March 8, 1913 
FOREST AND STREAM 
305 
Ducks Wintering North. 
OwEGO, N. Y., Feb. 24 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: Since the spring and winter shooting 
of wildfowl has been closed in New York State, 
a great many ducks and even geese winter about 
the spring water lakes and streams in Central 
New York and the southern tier counties. 
The severe winter of 1912, however, closed 
up many of the lakes and streams which seldom 
freeze, thus shutting off thousands of ducks 
from their feeding grounds. These were obliged 
to collect in large numbers in the small open 
spring holes where, in their half-starved condi¬ 
tion, they became an easy mark for the pot 
hunters. The State officials were on the job, 
however, and secured many convictions for this 
illegal killing. As the ducks were in such large 
numbers, and the open water so small, the food 
was soon exhausted, and perhaps all would have 
starved in this section had it not been for the 
American Game Protective and Propagation As¬ 
sociation, the Tompkins County Fish and Game 
Protective Association, the Owego Rod and Gun 
Club and others. 
Members of these game protective associa¬ 
tions purchased food and saw that the birds 
were fed regularly until the water opened. The 
notable places where this work was done were 
Cayuga Lake near Ithaca and the Susquehanna 
River near Owego. 
In these places thousands of ducks were fed 
and no doubt thousands were saved from starva¬ 
tion. The birds got to look for their food daily 
like a flock of chickens, and became so tame 
they would even eat while food was being dis¬ 
tributed. 
This winter has been so very open, there 
has been no need for feeding the birds, as there 
is plenty of food in the open water. While the 
ducks are pretty well scattered, it is pleasant to 
note that there are many more wintering with 
us than usual. Among them are nearly every 
variety that visit us at any time of the year. 
Yesterday I saw a lone goose flying low over 
the village of Owego and in the direction of the 
river. I afterward learned that there are quite 
a number on the river near here. 
In the afternoon I took a walk along the 
Owego Creek and the Susquehanna. I saw a 
large number of ducks. Among these were 
mallards, blackducks, hooded mergansers and 
sheldrakes. The mallards and blackducks were 
feeding in pairs in the little coves along the 
banks, which proves without a doubt that they 
are already mated. 
One pair of blackducks came flying very 
close to me, the drake talking softly to his mate, 
and I wish I could have known what he was 
saying. They settled within a few feet of me, 
the drake alighting. At this moment his mate 
looked my way, saw me, took fright, and flew 
up the river. The drake could not understand 
this, and he quacked angrily. The duck soon 
answered him from up the river, and must have 
told him of his danger, for he left the water 
suddenly and joined his wife. 
The gunners along the Susquehanna River 
rarely get an opportunity to shoot ducks, as they 
nearly all skip us on the Southern migration. 
The sportsmen are pretty well educated to 
the fact that ducks should not be killed in the 
winter or spring, and are willing to go to a 
distance for their shooting or forego it alto¬ 
gether in order to protect the ducks properly. 
It is only when legislation is proposed such 
as Long Island is now asking for that a certain 
element here clamors for the same privilege. 
The better class of sportsmen, however, are 
very much opposed to winter or spring shoot¬ 
ing in any part of the State, and have entered 
a strong protest against the Long Island bill. 
P. S. Farnham. 
The Hair Rope Myth. 
BY CHARLES STUART MOODY. 
The role of the iconoclast is never an en¬ 
viable one. The man who upsets ancient beliefs 
and demolishes hoary-headed superstitions must 
expect the anathema of the unthinking. Those 
timid souls, for instance, who fatuously stretch 
a hair rope about their bed at night when in a 
rattlesnake country, under the blissful belief that 
the bristles on the rope will tickle his snake- 
ship’s belly and discourage his desire to occupy 
the same bed with the sleeper, will be pained to 
learn that their precaution is useless. A 
moment’s reflection, however, will probably serve 
to convince them that were a hair rope adequate, 
all keepers of reptilian collection need do would 
be to stretch a hair rope around their charges 
and thus avoid the manufacture of expensive 
cages. 
It would prove interesting could we trace 
the origin of the “hair rope myth.” Who first 
advanced the idea that a rattlesnake would not 
cross such a rope lying on the ground? I can 
recall a time when I had implicit faith in the 
remedy. True, I had never tried it, not being 
afraid of snakes, but some wise person told it 
to me, and I never presumed to question it. My 
credulity had its first severe jolt when traveling 
across a country infested with rattlesnakes in 
company with a band of Indians. Their picket 
ropes, pack ropes, in fact all their cordage was 
of hair woven by the Indian women. If there 
were virtue in the hair rope stunt, beyond ques¬ 
tion the Indian would know it and make use 
of it. They did not, however, nor did any of 
them report a crotaline bedfellow. My next jolt 
was on the same trip. My cayuse (a cayuse is 
an Indian bred horse) was picketed near the 
canon rim of the Columbia River, a country 
where an industrious man can go out and gather 
a mess of rattlesnakes in fifteen minutes. On 
my way out to fetch in my mount I saw a large 
aldermanic rattler lying on a flat rock sunning 
himself. “Now,” thought I, “is the opportunity 
to test the hair rope.” I loosened the picket 
rope, tied the horse by the halter to a sage brush, 
and coiled the rope around the rock and around 
the snake. I stood off some distance and threw 
rocks at the snake until he awoke and protested 
against the disturbance, slid off the rock and 
crawled unhesitatingly over the rope. 
On the assumption that “one swallow does 
not make a summer,” I took occasion to try the 
experiment again. The result was the same; 
the snake did not tarry, but got him hence. 
I sincerely regret being obliged to deprive 
people having a dread of snakes of their con¬ 
solation, but candor compels me to insist that 
a twine string would be as effective and far less 
bulky. It is a popular belief that nothing de¬ 
lights a rattler more than to occupy the blankets 
with a human being. I have spent several years 
on the Western cattle ranges, and not a few in 
Western military camps, in localities where rat¬ 
tlesnakes were common, yet I have the first in¬ 
stance to find of where a snake crept into bed 
with a person. The rattlesnake is of a some¬ 
what retiring disposition and does not court 
human society to the extent of looking up one 
for a bedfellow. In the old cattle days it was 
not unusual to find a rattlesnake curled up in 
the warm ashes upon arising in the morning. 
The presence of the serpent there could be ac¬ 
counted for not on the assumption that he was 
seeking human companionship, but that he came- 
along during the night hunting a warm place tO' 
roost, found the hot ashes and bunked downi 
exactly as he might have curled up on a sun- 
warmed rock or bed of sand. 
During our recent military march across the 
country east from San Diego, Cal., it was not 
unusual to get up in the morning and find ai 
“sidewinder” occupying the tent. During this 
march, however, the enlisted men slept in shelter 
tents on the ground and none of them reported 
an uninvited guest. 
While I have been compelled to take away 
the fancied protection of the hair rope, the 
devotees of that device may console themselves 
that the chances of a rattlesnake getting into bed 
with them are about one to infinity. 
The Louisiana Bird Season. 
New Orleans, La., March 5. — Editor Forest 
and Stream: Hunters here and throughout 
Louisiana, after a winter of good shooting, are 
putting in their time now on teal and snipe.. 
Feb. 28 was the last day of the open season on. 
most species of game birds and animals, but 
fishing is coming in in fine style, and will last 
until the shotgun and rifle season opens again 
in the fall. The season on trapping closed: 
Feb. I. 
The game birds to which the protection of 
the law is extended after March i are doves,, 
woodduck, river and sea duck, geese, brant, rail, 
curlew, plover, Florida duck, black mallard and 
quail. The Conservation Commission is taking 
special pains to enforce the game laws this year 
and prosecutions of all violators seem certain. 
The season on woodcock and seagulls closed' 
Feb. I, and there is a ban on the killing of 
prairie chickens, killdeer, pheasants and wild! 
turkey hens until December, 1915. The only 
game birds which may be killed now, and these 
only until April i, are wild turkey cocks, teal 
duck, sandpipers and snipe. The closed season 
for all game birds except the red-wing black¬ 
bird, which is considered “game” down here, 
goes into effect April i. 
Spring snipe shooting is a feature of out¬ 
door life in this section, the fields are turning 
green, the air is balmy and the sun just warn> 
enough to make it a joy to be alive and afield. 
H. H. Dunn. 
To our mind, says the Yarmouth (Mass.) Register, 
there is no class of reading so fascinating as that which 
deals intimately with the life and habits of the denizens 
of the wilds. The energetic beaver is one of these in¬ 
teresting creatures. This wonderful animal is almost 
human in its intelligence. “The Tenants of the Iron 
Barrier” in last week’s Forest and Stream, will give 
you a close view of the beaver’s activities. It is written 
by Robert Page Lincoln. This old-established and pop¬ 
ular weekly keeps its place in the front rank of publica¬ 
tions devoted to outdoor life. No sportsman’s reading, 
table is complete without Forest and Stream. 
