habit of the “arrie” every morning and evening during 
the breeding season, to get into line and fly around the 
island before going out to sea for food at daylight and 
on returning from feeding at night. After mildly, but 
honestly expressing our surprise at this astonishing bird 
picture, judge of our amazement on landing to find the 
■whole north shore of the island, an area of ten miles in 
length and a -width varying from one to one and a half, 
literally swarming with a small aak,(PAfifem mieroceros) 
the noisy chattering of which from untold millions of 
awkward throats made all conversation between us in 
ail ordinary tone of voice, futile, and we simply gaped 
in astonishment, and curiosity deepened into amaze- 
ment as we silently walked up to our quarters in the 
Agent’s house. 
The “arrie” which breeds in such fabulous numbers 
on the bluffs of St. George’s Island, is a bird about the 
size of a small mallard duck; itpair.«ofi, and alternates 
in the labor of incubation, i. e. the male will ait on the 
egg,' or .stand over it properly speaking, while the female 
goes off" to feed, and both will share equally in caring for 
the chick. The arrie lays but a single egg, and e.xceed- 
ingly large in proportion to its body, fantastically col- 
ored and mottled: it is deposited plump on the bare rock 
■wherever the bird can perch or cling, frequently so well 
balanced that a slight touch would roll it to destruction 
on the rocks below, and yet the birds are alternately get- 
ting off and on thousands of such delicately noised eggs, 
and so carefully do they do so, that they seldom ever 
disturb the equilibrium of their unstable charges. 
The lofty basaltic cliffs that frown along almost the 
entire length of the shore line of this island, are so 
weathered that rows of narrow shelves rise one above 
the other closely from top to bottom, and on these sit or 
squat tlie arries, bolt upright, like so many wine bottles, 
and as thickly as they can stow themselves, side by side, 
keeping up all the while a loud, harsh grunting croak, 
the only note or sound that is made by them; they 
quarrel among themselves incessantly and in this occu- 
pation thuv will struggle ferociously several minutes to- 
gether under water. 
The morning after our arrival we walked out a short 
distance only, to the rear of the house in which we had 
passed the night, and the small auks, or “choochkies,” 
rose in such black swarms of countless thousands from 
the rocks and interstices around us and under our feet 
that they deafened us with their chattering and darkened 
the light of a bright sunshiny morning with their flying 
forms. They, too, laid but a single egg, which was in- 
variably deposited way down under the rocky shingle 
or boulders, and although bushels of these little while 
eggs were under our feet, yet it would require a hard 
day’s exertion to gather even a peck of them, so care- 
fully does the choochkie secrete in the rockj' crevices 
its nest, which, however, is but a mere depression in the 
sand or silt of the rock pocket, or else the bare stone 
itself: they were brave and fearless and would suffer us 
to approach to within almost reaching distance of 
them without showing the least timidil}\ their odd round 
heads with queer little winking wall eyes, bobbing 
about from side to side. 
Punctually at daylight during the breeding season on 
St. George’s Island the choochkies which have passed 
the night on their eggs, give this charee over to their 
mates, and come out into the light of morning from their 
holes and caverns of incubation, rise into the air in vast 
swarms and wing their way far out to sea in search of 
food, leaving the island apparently deserted by them, 
until their noisy return by evening, when each bird joins 
its mate for the night. There must be a good deal of 
free love among these little birds or else their bumps of 
locality are well developed, indeed, lor after mingling 
with millions of their kind all day miles away from land 
how promptly they seem to alight each one at its respec- 
tive crevice, which is almost entirely concealed by 
grass and sphagnum, where its mate gives evidence of 
its fond and joyous recognition of return, by a loud and 
harsh croaking note, the sound as it comes up and out 
from the hidden nests, strangely resembles that of the 
“ devil’s fiddle” which our street boys inflict upon us 
about one* a year. 
As we turned from the strange sight and retraced 
our steps it was suggested that some such rookery as this 
must have inspired the old saying of 
“ Birds of a feather flock together." 
Misb Nollt AiLBS of Napa, Cal., a maiden of twelve or thir- 
teen, ha; kilted more game with her small telescope rifle than any 
two hnnters in that region this winter. She made $30 on eqairrela' 
eaili last summer, getting only five centa apiece. At a shooting 
Btatoh last year she took so (many prizes that her beafdcd oppo- 
nents ruled her out of the ring. 
PRESERVATIOX. OF WOODCOCK. 
BY CHARLES LINDEN. 
The enactment of all laws aim at direct benefits which 
acme thereby to society; game laws are no exception. 
■Without the enforcement of these, game would soon be- 
come extinct, as it is subject to active pursuit by the 
hand of man in all well settled districts. Provisions 
are therefore miwle in virtue of which our birds are 
protected at the time of theii breeding, partly to pre- 
vent their being driven for safety to more remote dis- 
tricts, partly from the common sense reflection that a 
number of individuals spring spontaneously, as it were, 
from the agency of a fe-w parent birds. These views 
have been extended to vast armies of migratory visitors 
which, like our common Wilson snipe and many spe- 
cies of wild duck, have long ago forsaken their once 
tenanted breeding haunts in our Middle and Northern 
states, for the vast, undisturbed solitudes of the North- 
west. We would suppose that the utmost jealousy 
would be manifested in taking care of what few resi- 
dent breeders we still have, but it is nevertheless a 
strange and curious anomaly, that in the place of pro- 
tection, our game laws actually foster extirpation. 
This applies in some measure to our ruffed grouse, but 
more conspicuously to the favorite of all trae lovers 
of sport, the woodcock. A correct knowledge of the 
habits of this bim renders an elaborate recapitula- 
tion unnecessary as this may be found in any of the 
many books of reference or by perusal of a periodical 
which like Rod and Gcn is exclusively devoted to this 
branch of correct knowledge. For the purpose only 
of pointing out curious inconsistencies I diverge to 
a few facts which methinks should have influenced 
our law givers to a different course of action. 
The woodcock arrives with us in March, some- 
times as early as the 10th. from his southern retreat. 
1 saw once a flock of 8 individuals in a snow storm 
on the 13th day of that month. The worms which 
come surprisingly quick to the softened surface, under 
the influence of the Spring sun, seem to afford just 
enough nourishment until the better supply in April and 
May. The outskirts of woods, rather elevated, half 
neglected clearings of stump lots, or second growth 
woods, are his favorite breeding grounds, where he 
raises his brood. As the season advances and dry 
weather checKs the supply of food along these higher sit- 
uated little rills, the rich bottom lands, overgrown with 
alder and willow, are now resorted to, and then we may 
find a brood, here and there, close together, until the 
fore part of July, unless an unusually hot season has ne- 
cessitated a second shift, in which case the hunter at the 
opening of the season will have to alter his tactics, and 
choose a different field from the one he may have had in 
his mind to hunt over as virgin ground. The latter end 
of .luly is marked by a tendency of these little flocks to 
scatter, and finish their moulting seasbn in seclusion, 
a circumstance which has caused many strange sur- 
mises as to a partial summer migration, since they can- 
not be found in their accustomed haunts, and must be 
diligently hunted in order to make up a fair bag. 
Higher, and often perfectlj' dry lands are then their 
chosen retreats, where they may roll on the rough or 
sandy soil to rid themselves of the irritation accom- 
panying the feverish condition during which they lose 
their feathers. This state of affairs lasts until the latter 
end of September, somewdiat influenced by later or 
earlier autumns, extending, however, hardly bejmnd the 
2.5th of that month. 
The little shady fringes of wdllow and poplar bord- 
ering our cornfields, whether these be high or low, are 
now exchaneed for forest or brier patch, and the 
bird rapidly attains to its full growth. If frosts are 
early, very fine birds may be obtained as early as the 
first of October; as a rule, however, but few are in per- 
fect plumage before the 10th. We may be sure of four 
or five weeks good shooting, extending from the 20th of 
September to about the 4th day of November, after 
which date a fair bag is an exception to the rule. 
With so correct a knowledge of arrival, moulting- 
season, departure, and shift of ground of this other 
wise so secluded bird, it is not surprising that every 
corner of woodland and every stream, every bird’s patch 
is almost as familiar to the sportsman, as the numbers 
and names of streets to a letter carrier, and if we assume 
that the number of sportsmen as shown by accumula- 
tion of periodicals, consumption of apparatus, bung- 
ling game laws, increases, we cannot suppose a corres- 
ponding ratio in the increase of birds, the legitimate 
aim and object'of the avocation of the hunter. Since 
we, cannot hope for a revivaLof’ those palmj’' days, 
when as we are assured, a man could easily bag in a few' 
hours in proper season as many birds as he desired, we 
may at least devise means, whereby to insure the survi- 
val of as large number as possible in order to afford 
still, here and there, a fair prospect of a da 3 '’s good 
sport. Is this prospect attained bj’ fixing such a day, 
as the 4th day of July, to inaugurate the hunting sea- 
son? Why not extend it with the same reason to the 
ruffed grouse, which, although then smaller, is so 
much more numerous ? If the jirivilege of breaking 
the long rest from the spring snipe shooting is the argu- 
ment, it would hold good in one ca.se as well as the 
other. Railroad and private conveyances will carry 
out on this day at most, everybodj" who has learned to 
use gun and dog, market-shooters and other illegal 
marauders included, of which last two classes there is 
now almost an excess over the number of true devotees 
to sport for its own sake. Statistics are still wanting, 
but it is not hazardous to assert that on this day alone, 
and many more in the hot month of July, thousands of 
birds fall victims to the gun. Neither is this wholesale 
slaughter confined to straggling individuals, the entire 
brood is generally exterminated, particularly when it 
has not yet forsaken the sheltering cover of the quiet 
dark alder patch, where it imagined safety from all in- 
trusion. What can and must be the final result of such 
warfare? Can we reverse arithmetic and predict accu- 
mulation? Sooner or later not a woodcock will be 
found, where even now a bag of thirty or more may be 
made, and the sporting associations of America will 
enjoy the honor of being the verj' instigators and pro- 
moters of a code of laws, against which all common 
sense and knowledge rebels. How strange to view indi- 
vidual doings, ways and means, which are in the long 
run calculated to injure principally themselves, for the 
bird in an economical point of view, or as an indispen- 
sable table luxury is of no viitual consequence. Its 
chief value will ever associate itself with the difficul- 
ties we encounter to find its retreats, and the just honor 
and appreciation awarded to its most successful 
pursuer. 
The numbers and size of it are not calculated to allow 
every family of the land the privilege of gracing their 
table and regaling a choice and discriminating guest, 
but such as are good connoisseurs of game or fish will 
certainly verify the assertion, I'lat there are certain 
periods when game is in season. We know that cold 
water is favorable to the flavor of many fishes which 
are at other times perfectly worthless, and the same law 
applies sweepingly to our feathered tribes. The wood- 
cock while growing utilizes all food for this sole pur- 
pose, and no adipose tissue, which we call his fat, can 
be collected. There w-ould be, perhaps, intermission to 
this state, when the bird has attained average size, as he 
does in August and September, if the moulting season 
could be postponed. But as this occurs at that very 
time, and reduces b}’ its feverish accompanj'ing condi- 
tions the bird again, we could not then invite the gour- 
mand to draw comparisons between the flavor of this 
bird or a young partridge. Thus the time when he has 
attained his prime condition for the table, must be nar- 
rowed in up to the point when he is fairh' past moult- 
ing, finds plenty of supply still in unfrozen grounds, 
and shows a disposition to grow fat, a necessitj- to him 
in view of his journey ahead, ■which taxes all his vital 
energies, as he has to depend on fortuitous supplj'. 
This period lasts from the 6th of October to the begin- 
ning of November, and a bird in good condition then 
outweighs in flavor all which have ever been killed any 
where in July or August. 
The subject is now happily agitated, the monstrous 
incongruity of existing rules has forced itself upon the 
attention of every lover of field sports and of nature, 
and I hope sincerely that immediate step.s may be taken 
by all sporting clubs in the country to revise the clause 
pertaining to the time when ■u'oodcock may be legally 
killed. As it is framed now, it confers merelj' a benefit 
on the greedy, rapacious horde of market shooters, who 
avail themselves only too gladly of the opoorlunity to 
exterminate from our woods and willow fringes the fa- 
vorite of every true lover of sport. Self-interest alone, 
which looks to enactment of laws promoting the enjoj’- 
ment of the very man who is the main agent in framing 
them, commands a speed}' repudiation of such a nox- 
ious clause. If any of the many readers and support- 
ers of The Rod and Gun agree with these personal 
views, I wish they would join in the general anathema 
and thereby confer a benefit on the much pursued, 
helpless and half-fledged July bird, as well as on those 
whose real delight consists in a stray chance tomissnow 
and again the vigorous, sw'ift-flying pride of the bag 
and board. 
