Nov. 25, 1905.] 
and the consequent damage, great, trapping or adver- 
tising the conditions in sporting papers will probably 
; result in reducing the numbers to normal. Of the 7-bo 
per cent, of fruit, grapes, as before stated, contribute 
I o.oi per cent. ; plants of the genus Rhus, mainly Rhus 
! divcrsi'.oba, 4.74 per cent., and miscellaneous fruit, prunes 
; and vaccinium, 2.85 per cent. The maximum quantity 
■ of fruit, amounting to 32.40 per cent, for the month, 
j was taken in December, after the grapes had been 
I picked. 
Grain. 
‘ The relations of the California quail to grain are of 
1 considerable economic importance. W. T. Craig, of 
San Francisco, writes to the Department of Agricul- 
i ture: “T have observed the quail enter a field of wheat 
I to the number of thousands, and had they not been 
[ driven away they would have destroyed the whole 
crop.” No other reports to the Biological Survey show 
the danger to grain from this quail to be so serious, 
but data at hand show that it does more or less damage 
: to germinating grain. Two quail shot by Walter E. 
! Bryant on a newly-sown grain field had eaten, respec- 
tively, 185 kernels and 210 kernels of barley. Barley 
is important in California, where it is grown for hay, 
for grain feed, and for beer making. There is, how- 
ever, much volunteer barley, which many species of 
birds feed on and thus do good rather than harm. It 
is probable that quail do little or no harm to barley at 
harvest time, and the waste grain that they subse- 
quently gather in stubble fields has no positive value. 
Of the yearly food of the 601 quail examined 6.18 per 
cent, was grain, divided as follows; Barley, 4.58 per 
cent.; wheat, 0.44 per cent.; corn and oats, 1.16 per cent. 
Leaves. 
In its habit of feeding on foliage the California quail 
differs from the bob white and resembles the ruffed 
: grouse. Such food forms 22.73 per cent, of the vegetable 
matter eaten. In February, w'lien the bobwhite is weath- 
ering blizzards, the California quail is enjoying balmy 
weather and feeding on browse to the extent of eighty 
per cent, of its food. Most of this browse consists of 
leaves of leguminous plants, principally clovers. Bur 
clover {Medicago denticulata) , a weed that grows in 
cultivated land and along irrigation ditches, appears to 
supply most of the forage. Alfalfa and clovers of the 
genus- alfalfa form most of the remaining leguminous 
green food. Next to legumes the finely divided leaves 
of alfilaria, or “filaree” {Brodiuvi), are important. Grass, 
dv.ckwc&d (Alsine media), the leaves of fern, geranium, 
oxalis, and groundsel-bush (Baccharts) also furnish for- 
age for the quail. W. W. Cooke reports that near Grand 
Junction. Colo., where the California coast quail has been 
introduced and thrives wonderfully, market gardeners re- 
gard it as a nuisance. 
Weed Seeds. 
Different seeds, largely of weeds, furnish the California 
quail 59-77 per cent, of its year’s diet. Legume,s contrih- 
iile 17.87 per Cent.; alfilaria, 13.38 per cent.; compo-Stbe, 
5.53 per cent. ; the spurge family, S‘8S pef cent., and mis- 
cellaneous plants 17.12 per cent. Leguminous seeds are 
liked best by the bird, and make up 17.87 per cent, of the 
seed diet for the year and 46.1 per cent, of its food for 
June. Bur clover yields abundance of seeds as well as 
forage. Its seed pod is peculiar, much elongated, beset 
with long, sharp spines, and spirally coiled into a round- 
ish bur. The quail swallows it whole, regardless of 
spines. This food is highly nutritious and is relished by 
stock as well as by birds and wild mammals. Seeds of 
closely allied plants, such as alfalfa, vetch, cassias, culti- 
vated beans and peas, and clovers of the geiiera_ Trifo- 
iiutn, Lespedesa and Melilotus also are in the quail’s list, 
as well as of locust and lupines, the latter taken in large 
quantities. They include the seeds of Lupinus nanus, L. 
micranthus and L. sparsMorus. Other leguminous seeds 
are eaten in great numbers, including a small bpn-like 
seed, Lotus glaber, which looks much like a miniature 
Frankf”rt sausage, and an unidentified, almost micro- 
scopic square seed, with a notch in its edge, possibly some 
species r.f birdsfoot trefoil. Nearly all of the leguminous 
plants that furnish the quail with seeds belong in the 
category of weeds. 
Seeds of weeds from other families of plants make up 
no' less than 41.89 per cent, of the annual food. Seeds 
of compositEE yield 5.55 per cent., such injurious weeds 
as thistles making up the largest part of this percentage. 
M. inariniana has the largest seeds. Ninety of these had 
been eaten by a quail shot by F. E. L. Beal at Haywards, 
Cal., Aug. 15, 1903. The seeds of the bur thistle are 
smaller and have a hook at one end and a set of spines 
like a paint brush at the other. Ihey are, perhaps, most 
liked of all composite seeds. From 500 to 800 are often 
eaten at a meal. The destruction of this seed is highly 
beneficial, for the bur thistle is troublesome to farmers. 
Wild carrot, tar weed, wild lettuce, mayweed and marsh 
elder furnish most of the remaining seeds of composite 
plants. Tar weed is a favorite source of food, and one 
stomach, collected at Watsonville, Cal., by J. S. Hunter, 
contained 700 of these seeds. Another stomach, from 
the same place, held 2,000 tiny seeds of dog fennel, or 
mayweed. 
From seeds of plants belonging to the spurge fanv.ly 
come 5.85 per cent, of the annual food. Spurges, particu- 
larly Croton setigerus, commonly known as turkey mul- 
lein, are a staple with the California quail as with most 
other seed-eating birds. ■ So fond are the quail of turkey 
mullein that their crops are often completely distended 
with the seeds, sometimes from 500 to 900 to a bird. Tur- 
key mullein is a prostrate plant covered with a whitish, 
■ woolly pubescence, and often used by the Indians to 
poison fish. Seeds of alfilaria, which is both a weed and 
a forage plant, are eagerly sought. They are . lance- 
shaped, furnished with a long, elaborate, corkscrew awn 
. ending in a thin spine. They burrow into sheep’s wool 
and eVen pierce the skin. The alfilaria is one of the few 
seeds of the West that all seed-eating birds consume. 
The plant is very abundant in California, and the quail 
often eats from i.ooo to 1,600 of the little corkscrevv seeds 
at a meal. It affords 13-38 per cent, of the year’s food, 
and 26.70 per cent, of the June diet. 
Seeds of miscellaneous weeds comprise 17.1! per cent, 
of the annual food. Among the species included are pig- 
; FOREST AND STREAM. 
weed, rough pigweed and black mustard — especially ob- 
noxious in grain fields — and the closely related weed, wild 
radish. Seeds of shepherd's purse and of other crucifer- 
ous plants are included in common with silene and the 
chickweeds. Geranium seeds are so much relished that 
often 300 to 400 are eaten at a time. Two closely related 
plants, miner’s lettuce {Montia perfoliata) and red maids 
(Calandrinia- mensiesii) , bear minute shiny_ black seeds 
that often are eaten by the thousand. The little seeds of 
red sorrel and curled dock are occasionally taken in al- 
most as large numbers. Seeds of chess, a serious grain 
pest, are relished, and hundreds of the grain-like seeds 
of the grass known as “poison darnel” appear in crops 
examined. Macoun, quoting Spreadborough, states that 
in British Columbia, where it winters successfully, the 
quail finds shelter in severe weather under the broom, 
wliich in places grows abundantly and yields seed for 
subsistence. 
The quail feeds also at times on mast. A. K. Fisher, in 
the western foothills of the Sierra Nevada, the last of 
July, found both young and adult quail eating young 
acorns. Small quantities of sedge seeds and of dodder are 
eaten, the latter plant being a destructive parasite on 
leguminous forage crops. The miscellaneous seed list in- 
cludes also- stick seeds, buttercup, bind weed, plantain, 
ribgrass, painted cup, mountain lilac and black wattle. 
In the mountains of Lower California the food supply 
determines the breeding time of birds. If there is not 
enough rain for a good supply of seeds the coveys of 
quail do not break up into nesting pairs but remain in 
coveys throughout the summer. If the season is wet and 
the winter rains promise abundant food the birds mate 
in March and begin nesting immediately. 
Food of the Young. 
The food of young birds differs from that of the 
parents, as has already been remarked of the bobwhite, 
but the difference is less marked with the California quail. 
Stomachs of thirty-two young of the western birds, from 
ore-fourth to one-half grown, have been examined. They 
were collected from the middle of July to the middle of 
September. The food was composed of 3.4 per cent, of 
ar.imal matter and 96.6 per cent, of vegetable matter. 
Thirty-nine adult birds shot in the same period had eaten 
almost entirely vegetable food, since only 0.6 per cent, of 
animal food appeared in analysis. Had the young birds 
been collected when newly hatched, undoubtedly a larger 
proportion of insect food would have been found. The 
3,4 per cent, of insect food mentioned consisted of beetles, 
o. I per cent.; bugs, 0.2 per cent.; grasshoppers, 1.3 per 
cent., and ants, 1.8 per cent. 
The vegetable food of the young is much like that of 
the adult. In this case it consisted of leguminous seeds, 
18. 1 per cent.; alfilaria seeds, 18.5 per cent.; miscellaneous 
seeds, 54.4 per cent. ; browse, 6.6 per cent. ; grain, 0.6 per 
cent. ; and miscellaneous vegetable matter, 0.4 per cent. 
The Biography of a Bear. — X 
Late in the evening we reached an ideal camping 
ground, one of the most attractive nooks in the moun- 
tains that I have ever seen. This was the eastern 
boundary of the tamarack wilderness and the furthest 
extremity of the “dry lake.” Almost encircling us was 
a series of high peaks, their northern and western slopes 
covered with dense and tall forests. Between the sum- 
mits, the main forest and the open, level land there was 
a belt of tamarack about half a mile wide in its narrow- 
est place, while a wandering, sluggish little stream, as 
clear as crystal, and ice cold, drained the meadows and 
swales, upon which waved grass waist high. Here 
would be another chance for our horses. 
To make the place superlatively fascinating to us, we*: 
saw no evidences of its having been recently explored. 
There were deer tracks everywhere in the soft, wet 
ground; and they were the tracks of very large deer. 
We were in the range of the western species, known as 
the mule deer, which sometimes approaches the elk in 
size. Later, we found some bear tracks that were so 
large that we were not altogether certain that we cared 
for them particularly. We were of the opinion that 
some of these tracks, which looked to be about fourteen, 
inches in length, had been made too recently to _ be 
things for unrestrained delight, for the animals making 
them had evidently beconie too old and too tough for 
any peaceable use. We weren’t out after bears espe- 
cially, having one with us that kept us very well sup- 
plied in a way. As for the meat of these old fellows, a 
carcass would have been too much of a supply; besides, 
at this season the fur would be of little value; even if 
we had been after bears, I do not think either of us 
wanted them in such an out-of-the-way place and with 
such unreasonably large feet. Why, some of the fore- 
feet tracks were about the size of a plate, and the claws 
that impressed patterns in the mud must have been as 
long as our fingers and too sharp for any conceivable 
use we had for them. There were some other vital 
reasons for considering them unavailable. It is true 
Enochs frequently announced his intention to go out 
and bring one of these large bears into camp, Jaut we 
had learned to make allowances for his proclamations. 
Enochs was too deferential to Jack at certain times to 
impress us with anxiety as to his voluntarily disturbing 
any of the wild ones. There were some rocky gorges 
in our vicinity, where we satisfied ourselves that these 
ponderous animals had private apartments, and though 
Enochs was always upon the eve of calling in _ upon 
them, several years elapsed, and he omitted doing it 
until the incident was apparently closed. It is really 
astonishing how some of the opportunities we long for 
lose their fascination when they do present themselves. 
Later along we even moved camp to restrain ourselves 
from disturbing a bear that came to us in the night 
time. 
At the head uf the little stream, where the water 
oozed from springs that were almost geysers, we found 
an abandoned dairjc There were two or three log 
houses tumbling to decay, with racks and tables in some 
of them that had apparently been used as milk shelves, 
while several parts of a cheese-making contrivance were 
falling to pieces in a corner. A_s the place vvas fifty 
mileLor 50 from more than four or five people, this 
431 
location could never have been a good one from which 
to peddle milk — not even over such roads as we trav- 
eled. The milk would have churned itself to butter and 
the butter would have melted into oil, and even if the 
oil could have been saved, the scheme would have 
failed. Evidently butter and cheese had been made 
here as the staple product. 
At this time there was not the tinkling of a cowbell, 
the ’lowing of steer, nor the tracks of man or domestic 
animal in the region about us. All the signs of the 
wilderness indicated that the intrusion - of man here- 
abouts was a rare event. Such birds, squirrels and wild 
creatures as we saw were at first overpowered with 
astonishment and curiosity, and then they scurried away 
panic-stricken, to remain hidden and silent fpr a long 
time. The behavior of these wild creatures is a fairly 
accurate declaration of the status of a wilderness, but 
it requires no little experience and observation to inter- 
pret them correctly, for there are many stages of fright 
and alarm, and they manifest these in a variety of ways. 
The bird that makes the greatest outcry, or the animal 
that hurries out of sight with the greatest signs of panic 
are not those least familiar with the sight of man. In 
fact, the lizards of the rocks, the watersnakes, and fish 
themselves, all testify to the extent with which they 
have been favored with human interference. 
One of the log huts mentioned was comparatively 
intact, and in it there was a rough stone fireplace; but 
the hut was so small that a table, a bench and a rough 
pole bunk about filled it. Moreover, it was too much 
occupied by chipmunks, mice and possibly by snakes, to 
be inviting.. We utilized it, however, for a cook house, 
and stored our provisions in it, after carefully boxing 
them up. A few rods away we selected a little knoll of 
dry ground and set up pur tent there for our sleeping 
quarters. We found plenty of dry swamp grass to make 
splendid mattresses, and carpeted the ground in and 
about the tent. Arranging a camp implies a great deal 
of fussy work, and by the time we had ours done to 
our fancy, we were a little beyond comfortable exhaus- 
tion, but felt better after supper. 
From our tent we had an entrancing view of the 
mountains and forest, as well as of the upper end of the 
dry lake, which in reality was more or less wet and 
swampy, enough so to remain green and fresh through- 
out summer. As we sprawled about upon our well 
upholstered bedding,- watching the last gilding of the 
purple summits, the .sky colors, the shadows of ap- 
proaching night settling lower and deeper and darker 
in the canons and hollows, and when we could faintly 
see distant things in the tall grass at the edge of the 
meadow which we believed to be deer — possibly bear 
here and there — we smoked our pipes and felt about as 
well pleased and optimistic as people ever feel. Here 
was a field for sport, adventure, and for all the spice we 
were likely to need in the way of danger, if we sought 
it sincerely. Suddenly it occurred to me that this must 
be the floating meadow; that this was not a dry lake, 
but a lake blanketed over with prostrate forest and 
swamp growth, the accumulation of centuries. As I 
gazed at it, I saw, or imagined I saw, that it undulated 
with long, almost imperceptible, swells and subsidences! 
This was surely a lake. 
With the first rays of the sun the next morning, I 
found myself exploring that part of the meadow vrhich 
seemed most accessible. I had provided myself with a 
tamarack pole twenty feet in length and sharpened at 
one end. I went out upon the layers of matted swamp 
grass and sounded about until I found a yielding spot, 
and I sank the pole, point first, by continued prodding. 
After, getting it down through the matted growth of 
reeds and grass several feet, the pole suddenly slipped 
through my hands and sank to its full length without 
further resistance; it was in water, and there was no bot- 
tom within its reach! I barely succeeded in recovering 
the pole, and when withdrawn, it was as cold as a huge 
icicle; but I was too much excited to notice that. I ran 
for the camp, and after a hasty breakfast, during which 
I aroused Enochs and Dick to enthusiasm, we all set 
out with an ax and a shovel for my discovery. 
We set to work immediately, chopped the sod away 
and dug a hole with the shovel about four feet square. 
After getting through the sod, we found a tangle of 
water-soaked poles and logs, which we had considerable 
difficulty in getting through. At last we uncovered a 
patch of water which proved as clear as glass, but to 
look down into it it had the bluish tinge that indicated 
great depth. We sank the pole down, down as far as we 
could reach by lying down and reaching to our shoul- 
ders in the water — there was no bottom! As we lifted 
the pole out again we laid it crosswise over the hole, 
and bending down close to the water, I tried to see to 
the bottom. I could see downward many feet, but no 
bottom was visible-nothing but the reflection of our 
own faces and forms, of which our wide hats were the 
main featiire. 
We next walked about, and jumping up and down, we 
could feel the yielding and heaving undulation dis- 
tinctly. We realized that here, sure enonugh, was a 
covered lake, perhaps miles in extent and of unknown 
depth. We had begun to get excited, and when we re- 
turned to the hole we had made and saw the swirl of a 
big fish break the surface of the water, we set off at a 
run for tackle and bait. We could find no grasshoppers, 
so we hastily sliced some small strips of venison, got 
our tackle and hurried back to the skylight we had cut 
in the roof of our lake. Our continued trampling about 
the edge of the hole had caused the sod to sink into the 
water, and it was now submerged, so that to get near 
enough for satisfactory operations we had to collect 
more poles and make a crib platform over the hole. 
We worked like bcEivers, and it was wonderful how 
much we accomplished and the size of the poles that we 
managed in our enthusiasm and excitement to get into 
that crib, carrying many of them a considerable dis- 
tance. When all was ready, we dropped in our baited 
trout lines, with great expectations. For a moment or 
two there was no response from the depths below; 
then, almost at the same instant, each of us received the 
thrilling shock of a strong strike. I twitched my line 
sharply and felt the unmistakable sensation of being 
fast to a big one. It sulked an instant, and then shot 
away and downward, and the snell snapped from the 
