Nov. 30, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
703 
he almost had the whole affair down when we 
came upon the scene. Now, of course, we had 
to cure him of that, for it is certain that if we 
allowed him to go on, this amusement would be 
one of his regular features. My companion on 
the moment prepared a cure, but it rather 
shocked me at first, and I would have none of 
it, but, finally, I gave in. The idea was to heat 
the wire line at a certain place in between left 
bare. Thus when the crow came along he 
would burn his soles and teach him never to 
step on a wire again. This was done, and from 
a covert we watched proceedings with bated 
breath. Arrived at the heated place he bal¬ 
anced himself and walked across, or endeavored 
to walk across, when, of a sudden, he darted 
into the air. turned three or four times wildlv. 
and came to- earth with a string of expletives, 
disgracing the stillness of the summer day. A 
more surprised bird I never hope to see, and 
his eyes fairly protruded out of his head. He 
looked around as if to say, “Now what do you 
think of that!” Did he pull down any more 
clothes? No! No, he didn’t like that amuse¬ 
ment ever therafter, and if a wire was thrust at 
him he would flap away with an angry, shocked 
cry that was torn from his heart. Instinct, 
coupled with a distinct remembrance, had had 
its play. 
Summer waned along and fall came with its 
changing leaves, and that stillness that seems to 
forebode some great calamity; September 
slipped away and October came with all her 
golden grandeur, and the sighing winds that 
crept through the woods and were spent out on 
the fields. The birds were going South; now 
and then the robin bands would fly by. Dicky 
seemed to feel it all, and some strange thing 
took place that we could not understand, for 
then we were nothing more or less than mere 
humans. Dicky had never essayed a great 
flight. Once we had feared he would leave us, 
but we had clipped his wings, very little. But 
now they were grown out again. Dicky sat 
out there on the big pole looking up into the 
skies and seemingly listening—listening. He 
did not seem to see us, and nothing we could 
do had any effect upon his mood. We knew it 
was no use. But one day as he sat thus, I re¬ 
member it was one waning afternoon, a flock 
of some twenty crows passed over with much 
cawing. Dicky answered back. Again the 
calls, and, as if beckoned. Dicky rose, fluttered 
a couple times in the air. and then took his 
course after the band. Further and further 
away he dimmed, and soon caught up with the 
others and fell in behind; straining our eye¬ 
sight we saw them vanish against the face of 
the heavens, and lastly, nothing at all remained 
but a pleasant memory. 
FIGHTING THE BIGGEST GORILLA. 
Wheeling round, says a writer in the De¬ 
cember Wide World Magazine, the gorilla 
dashed away at its top speed through the tall 
grass, the natives in hot pursuit. Like beaters 
they drove the animal toward their village, and 
with loud shouts endeavored to give the alarm 
to those remaining there. The gorilla, more 
agile than the hunters, increased his lead some¬ 
what, but was obliged to go straight on, for 
already the cries of the natives scattered 
through the plantation were heard on all sides. 
The great brute leapt toward a little path, but 
was quickly obliged to abandon it, on perceiv¬ 
ing new enemies coming toward it. Breaking 
through some thick bushes, which hindered its 
pursuers for a moment, the animal passed quick¬ 
ly over a small river and climbed up the op¬ 
posite bank with great rapidity, in spite of its 
huge bulk. Though streaming with perspira¬ 
tion, the blacks were none the less resolute in 
the chase, for they felt sure of victory, and that 
the destroyer of their crops was at last to pay 
for his misdeeds with his life. 
Continuing its headlong course, the gorilla 
descended a slope and suddenly appeared at the 
extremity of the village, where the huts, built 
of red earth, extended in parallel lines along a 
slight ridge, at the top of which is the chief’s 
dwelling. At the sight of the hideous monster 
the women ran screaming into- their huts, the 
children fled after them, uttering loud cries, 
the goats and fowls scattered on all sides, and 
the dogs barked with rage. In the midst of 
this pandemonium of noise the few men present 
rushed for their arms and prepared to do battle 
with the common enemy. 
The struggle promised to be severe, for in 
its flight the beast had armed itself with a big 
branch, torn from a tree, as thick as a man’s 
arm. 
With this club, brandished in his powerful 
fist, he held the most audacious at bay. Spears 
whistled continuously through the air as the 
hunters closed up, but the beast avoided them 
with amazing skill, meanwhile trying to- force 
its way through those who barred the path. A 
bullet struck it in the thigh; it staggered, but 
did not drop. Grinding its teeth in rage, it 
struck the nearest native a smashing blow on 
the head with its great club. He dropped like 
a log, his face badly cut, and was hurriedly 
picked up and dragged away by his comrades 
before the gorilla could damage him further. 
By this time there was a circle of men 
round the animal—yelling, hurling spears, and 
firing their guns—while the gorilla darted and 
whirled this way and that, striking out furiously 
with its club. The uproar was indescribable. 
Suddenly a shot, fired wildly, struck one of the 
hunters in the arm and shattered it. He fell 
with a cry of pain, and the gorilla, rushing in 
upon him, tore savagely at his back. The man 
was in deadly peril when another native, coin¬ 
ing quite close, shot the brute in the left side, 
whereupon it released its victim and fell. From 
all sides there was a rush to finish it, but in a 
last effort it arose, whirling its club and champ¬ 
ing its .jaws—the incarnation of brute ferocity. 
As it stood there a spear, cleverly aimed, hit it 
near the heart, while at the same moment a 
bullet struck it above the left eye. Mortally 
wounded at last, the monster dropped dead. 
INSECTS THAT PLAY MUSIC. 
“Many of the little folk of the field and 
forest have fine musical instruments, and play 
on them night and day for three or four months 
of the year,” says a writer in the Woman’s 
Home Companion. “The long-horned grass¬ 
hopper, or true katydid, is the leader of the 
band. He has two sets of wings, the outer 
ones used for flying, the inner ones making up 
the bow and fiddle. Near the base of these 
inner wings is fastened a set of strong veins. 
When he moves them so that the veins on each 
wing rub together it makes a funny little wiry 
sound, and that is what is called ‘grasshopper’s 
fiddling.’ 
“Our common little green grasshopper is 
another fine player. His fiddle is attached to 
one wing, and he uses his hind leg for a bow. 
On this leg is a line of little beadlike lumps, 
from each of which grow a number of fine 
hairs. When Mr. Grasshopper draws this leg 
back and forth over his wings, his lovesongs 
trill out on the summer air. His poor little 
mate tries hard to make the same kind of 
music; she goes through the same motions, but 
can never produce a single sound. 
“Another first class fiddler is the cricket. 
His tune is loud and shrill. One tune by night, 
one by day, is his rule. He has even been 
known to change his note when the clouds 
darkened the sun for a while in the day. Some 
insects beat little drums when they want to 
make music. The seventeen-year locust has two 
tiny drums fastened to his abdomen. They are 
fixed firm and tight, and to each one is at¬ 
tached a strong muscle which the insect can 
tighten or relax at will. It makes a sound 
something like beating on a tin pan, and will 
drown out every other musical note of the 
summer day.” 
The Northwest has a grain crop in sight 
more than 35,000,000 bushels larger than any 
other on record. And yet some people have been 
trying to persuade us that the country is going 
to the dogs. 
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POINTERS FOR SALE 
The two thoroughly broken pointers, “Maxim’s Dan" 
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