Sept. 15, 1906.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
417 
taining posts all over the north from Labrador 
to Mackenzie River and beyond, has cut down 
the local trade in furs and introduced arbitrary 
rates and precarious dealings, rendering trade 
on a small scale hazardous. In Yukon Terri¬ 
tory, the marten has recently migrated, owing, 
it is said, to the appearance upon the scene of 
unusual numbers of lynx. 1 his condition is 
probably only passing and temporary. Fur 
buyers seem to agree that the fur-bearing animals 
of the north, with the exceptions noted, are not 
‘playing out.’ Vast extents of territory still re¬ 
main approximately virgin and unexploited, and 
the Indians are proving surprisingly careful in 
preserving the game. 
"The Indians bring the skins to the various 
posts and exchange them for merchandise; it 
is all a matter of barter. The standard of value 
in some parts is a beaver skin, in others the skin 
of the red fox. In the interior of Alaska, the 
prices paid for furs and supplies are regulated 
by the price of the red fox or of the marten, 
called one skin. 
Extent and Value of the Industry. 
"London continues to rank as the principal 
fur market of the world, to which are shipped 
furs from Asia, including Siberia, Europe, and 
America. Subsidiary markets are Tacoma, St. 
Louis, Montreal, New York, Paris, Leipzig, 
Novgorod, and Kiakhta. In the world s fur 
trade, Alaska plays no insignificant part. 
“Lieut. Ivan Petrop, in his report (1880) on 
the population, resources, etc., of Alaska, esti¬ 
mated the market value (London) of the annual 
yield of furs in Alaska at $2,181,832, conserva¬ 
tively calculated, ‘which amount may be swelled 
a little by the arctic fur trade,’ of which he had 
no returns. According to Lieutenant Petrop, 
western Alaska alone in a year would make the 
following showing: 
Classes of fur. 
Number. 
Price. 
Value. 
. 4,500 
$100.00 
$450,000 
.100,000 
15.00 
1,500,000 
Land otter . 
. 2,500 
3.00 
7,500 
. 5,800 
3.00 
17,400 
Black fox . 
. 920 
30.0.) 
27,600 
Cross fox . 
. 2,560 
3.00 
7,680 
Red fox . 
. 11,400 
1.50 
17,100 
Arctic fox (blue). 
. 1,190 
4.00 
4,760 
Arctic fox (white). 
. 1,580 
3.00 
4,740 
Bear, black . 
. 100 
5.00 
500 
Bear, brown . 
. 711 
2.00 
1,422 
Mink . 
. 10,300 
.30 
3,090 
Marten (sable) . 
. 10,500 
3.50 
36,750 
Muskrat . 
. 6,800 
.10 
680 
Lynx . 
. 870 
3.00 
2,610 
Collection and Exportation. 
“The exportation of Alaskan furs for the 
twelve months ended June 30, 1903, amounted 
to $423,606; for the following year, $449,497, and 
for 1904-5, $494,764. Great quantities of furs are 
taken in Alaska, embracing those of the polar 
bear, black bear, brown bear, black wolf, white, 
red, blue and silver-gray foxes, badger, beaver, 
sables, and seals. It is known that Alaska has 
yielded great wealth to this industry, but the ex¬ 
tent cannot be stated with any certainty, as it 
has been the policy of the fur trader to con¬ 
ceal his operations, and the conditions of the 
trade are such that he is able to do so. 
“The annual collection of furs is a matter of 
ceaseless change. Fashion, fastidious and fickle, 
neglects the use of certain kinds of furs for a 
season; the market price of the pelt no longer 
repays the outfit of the trapper; the hunt is in¬ 
termitted, and in two of three years the animal 
regains its numbers and strength. Owing to the 
steady growth in the demand for furs as a wear¬ 
ing apparel in nearly all countries, including 
those in which they are worn as a protection 
against the elements, as well as in countries and 
climes where their use is dictated by fashion, 
and in consequence of the general prosperity of 
the people on this side of the Atlantic as well as 
in Europe,' and also as a result of the establish¬ 
ment of peace between Japan and Russia (the 
latter country being ordinarily a heavy con¬ 
sumer of furs), fur merchants appear fairly sat¬ 
isfied with the outlook, fearing no serious set¬ 
back. provided fictitious boom conditions and 
inflation do not interfere.” 
Shooting Season in Town. 
From the New York Evening Post. 
There is something in the autumn atmosphere 
which affects certain men in a very singular way, 
and at this time a person of delicate feeling will 
be careful not to pry too closely into the precise 
significance of their actions. 
For example, early in the month, a well-known 
single gentleman of sixty was observed breakfast¬ 
ing at his club, an undeniable gun-case on the 
floor by his side, and a war-worn pointer with 
broken tail and shot-fringed ear attached to the 
back of his chair. His posture was square and 
upright, there was a noticeable decision in the 
way he disposed of his bacon and eggs, and when 
accosted he returned very crisp replies. It was 
naturally supposed that he was off for Charlotte 
county, Virginia, where seventeen years pre¬ 
viously he had experienced the joy of shooting 
quail. He had recounted this experience the 
night before, and it was known that for seventeen 
Novembers he had not failed to mention the 
pleasure it had afforded him. So at last he was 
off for Charlotte county, and would return, it 
was hoped, with some fresher anecdotes of the 
field.' 
But indiscret investigation revealed the fact 
that actually the old boy was bound no further 
than to Riverdale on the Hudson, where he was 
to pass Sunday with a devout female friend. 
Phenomena of this sort are very common at 
about this season of the year, and thoughtful 
observers have discerned in them the symptoms 
of a specific malady having characteristics of in¬ 
fection. It steals upon the town as insidiously 
as the grip or puffed sleeves, and strikes those 
who are predisposed to its attacks. Predispo¬ 
sition in some cases—and these are generally the 
most interesting—comes apparently from some 
slight indulgence, at some time past, in actual 
shooting; but there is also a well-recognized 
form of the malady which lays hold of those who 
have never done any shooting at all. This last 
is acquired, under favoring conditions, by con¬ 
tact with shooting-men, and is communicated 
through the ear. The conversation of shooters 
who are closely confined to town during the sea¬ 
son is known to become exceedingly virulent. 
The vicinity of a group of them when so con¬ 
fined is decidedly what in English grouse-driving 
slang is called a “hot corner” ; listening to them, 
you have .a lively impression that that great 
sportsman, the Maharajah Tlmleep Singh, has 
come to town with several of his largest “bags,” 
or indeed, Tartarin of Tarascon with trunks; 
belief is irresistible that there is better shooting 
within a stone’s throw of Madison Square than 
there has ever been in any more rural region. 
The society of shooting-men when in this state is 
highly favorable to the propagation of the malady. 
But the complaint thus communicated affects 
only the young and is perfectly curable. It 
amounts tp little more than a nameless longing, 
a wish that they hardly dare to own. In obstinate 
cases, some physicians prescribe the purchase o-f 
a gun. Depletion of the pocket-book has a lower¬ 
ing effect upon the system, adverse to the prog¬ 
ress of fever, and when, as a consequence of 
his dealings with the gun-man, the youth has 
passed through a severe winter in a spring over¬ 
coat, he may be regarded as quite safe against 
any recurrence of the trouble. At the climax of 
his brief illness, he will probably find it neces¬ 
sary to take his gun down-town with him in a 
canvas bag, carefully concealing it under the 
office-desk, and mounting guard over the spot 
on a high stool. At favorable moments during 
the day he will exhibit it to chosen friends, and 
explain his intentions with regard to it, thereby, 
very possibly, communicating a mild secondary 
form of the disease. The lingering virus thus 
oozes from his system. As for the gun, after 
standing the wear and tear of a number of shoot¬ 
ing seasons in town, decorating a succession of 
hall bedrooms, and having its merits thoroughly 
discussed in all the neighboring beer-haunts, it 
may be looked for with some confidence in the 
window of. one of those strange, silent shops on 
sidelong avenues, which no one is ever seen to 
enter or leave, reposing in the companionship of 
a dingy lace parasol, violins, fans, and a German 
flute, interspersed with watches and jewelry. 
But the other type of the trouble, which is 
acquired by previous indulgence in shooting, is 
quite another matter. It is unfailingly recurrent. 
With the first light frost, the predestined victim 
feels it gradually stealing upon him, and knows 
that all his strength will avail nothing to resist 
its subtle advances. By November the mind of 
the poor suffrer is suffused with a kind of au¬ 
tumnal haze. He tells you that he means to 
"get a week’s shooting this season,” without 
any realizing sense of what the words convey. 
He asks you, pathetically enough, if you are so 
situated that a present of birds would be agree¬ 
able to you. Calling on him of a Saturday even¬ 
ing. you find him in the act of cleaning a gun, 
assisted by his children, who sequester the rags 
and fall into the hot water. His eye has an un¬ 
natural lustre, and his color is high. It is easy 
to see that at the mement you enter he has just 
flushed another covey. Do not at such a time 
commit the error of pressing to be informed if 
this preparation is for Carolina or Havre de 
Grace. On the contrary, let your conversation 
take on a reminiscent tone, and lead away from 
the critical present to the storied past. Inquire 
with effusion if this is positively the identical 
weapon with which he wiped the judge’s eye in 
the fall of ’71. Induce him, if possible, to re¬ 
peat the tale. Remark how imperceptible has 
been the improvement in firearms* since the days 
of Patrick Mullins, and ask him what is the 
least sum he would take for his gun. In short, 
do everything to avoid the painful crisis which 
at this stage is sure to result from any contact 
with actuality. 
If this course is carefully followed by those 
about him, the patient should go on well. On 
the morrow, when others are at church, he will 
steal away with the family setter, who wears a 
large bow of blue ribbon at the throat and has 
been thoroughly broken to girls on Fifth avenue, 
and will pass some time in his sympathetic so¬ 
ciety. They are both filled with a .sense of the 
perversity of things, and a common home-sick 
yearning is in the heart of each. In the more 
secluded upper reaches of the park they will, 
when the policeman is not looking, slip across the 
unnaturally verdant lawn, past where stands the 
single naked maple, its yellow garments all upon 
the ground, toward the gray and tan, smoky blur 
of underwood; along its side they linger and 
sniff and listen for the whirr of wings. On his 
return it is apparent that a change has set in for 
the better. He is peevish and impracticable as 
is the case in convalescence. At lunch he makes 
appalling assaults upon the slender fabric of so¬ 
ciety, and breathes fire and slaughter upon the 
wretched customs of city life. By no means 
oppose the arguments by which he conclusively 
proves that aggregations of more than two or 
three human beings to the square mile are hot¬ 
beds of corruption. Nature, whose promptings 
are always healthy, dictates that he be left alone. 
Night will supervene, and Monday will find him, 
not, to be sure, of such sound mind that his 
heirs should respect his will, but probably suffi¬ 
ciently rational for his ordinary avocations. 
Such is about the course of things in the milder 
cases, while in others the characteristics of hal¬ 
lucination are as pronounced as in the instance 
of the single gentleman first mentioned. A 
noticeable feature of the malady is this same 
tendency to seize most violently just these elderly 
bachelors whose solitary habits and romantic 
turn of mind lay them peculiarly open to its 
assaults. It is one of these who annually, at 
this season, assures the writer that woodcock 
have not yet left the island of Manhajtan, and 
that a “very good bag” can be made in the “mo¬ 
rasses” between Edgecombe Road and the Hud¬ 
son River. He believes, also, that quail visit the 
patches of the market-gardeners near 150th street 
and the Boulevard, and means to “put his dog 
in there” with the owner’s consent, tie is 
naturally a source of anxiety to his friends until 
the winter is well advanced. 
But the troubles of bachelors can never be so 
interesting as those of married men, and it is 
desirable to note the effect of the shooting sea¬ 
son in town upon the martial relations. Actual 
shootino- excursions are a well-known cause of 
strain. The man at such times so evidently pre¬ 
fers his men, his dogs, his guns, his coat, his 
