624 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Nov. 16, 1912 
HON. J. K. FLEMMING, 
Surveyor-General, New Brunswick. 
The counties that furnish deer and turkey 
shooting are: Horry, Georgetown, Charleston, 
Berkeley, Colleton, Hampton, Beaufort and 
Jasper on the eastern side. Further inland there 
is good deer and turkey hunting in portions of 
Chesterfield, Darlington, Marion, Kershaw, 
Orangeburg, Williamsburg and Dorchester. 
In nearly all counties partridges (bobwhite) 
are abundant and the shooting is fine. The 
bag limit is twenty-five per day to each gun, 
and may be made whenever desired. The limit 
ought to be reduced. The same limit is on 
doves (turtle doves), and they furnish abundant 
sport. 
Woodcock abound in Horry county; in fact, 
they are more numerous there than in any lo¬ 
cality with which I am acquainted in the South. 
Snipe are found in abundance only after 
Christmas when they are returning to the breed¬ 
ing grounds. 
Shore birds are numerous anywhere on the 
coast line, and especially on the numerous sea 
islands, from fifty miles north of Charleston to 
the Savannah River on the south. 
Canada geese are still fairly numerous on 
Broad, Catawba and Saluda rivers. The greater 
snow goose is sometimes found. 
Of cottontail rabbits, opossums, gray squir¬ 
rels and fox squirrels and raccoons there is no 
limit. 
The nonresident license is $10.25, procur¬ 
able from" the clerks of courts in various coun¬ 
ties. 
Any holder of a shooting license is per¬ 
mitted to take out fifty partridges, fifty doves, 
fifty ducks, two deer, twelve woodcock and fifty 
shore birds. 
The present season has been an exception¬ 
ally good one for birds, as they have passed 
all vicissitudes and my wardens report decided 
increase in all kinds throughout the State. 
Deer suffered during last season with “black 
tongue,’’ but none has been reported this year, 
and in some sections farmers are complaining 
of damage done to crops by deer being too 
numerous. 
The river swamps on Santee, Peedee, Wac- 
camaw, Savannah and lower Edisto contain a 
good many black bear, and they are apparently 
increasing in numbers. There are a few ruffed 
grouse in the mountain counties. 
The winter climate of South Carolina is 
perhaps the most bracing in America, being 
neither too hot nor too cold, but with just 
enough champagne in the air to make the 
nerves tingle and to add proper zest to- sport. 
Good accommodation can be had cheap 
and strangers are welcome. No man who can 
find his way home when he is two miles away 
ought to have the slightest trouble in South 
Carolina. 
James I-Ienry Rice, Jr.. 
Chief Game Warden. 
New Hampshire. 
Concord, N. H., Oct. 20 .—Editor Forest and' 
Stream: Game conditions are better than last 
year. Partridge, woodcock, duck, shore birds, 
deer, rabbit, fox, bear, raccoon, etc., are found 
in this State in abundance. Shooting is good in 
all counties. 
Charles B. Clarke, 
Secretary Department of Fish and Game. 
An Odd Little Owl. 
BY CHAS. S. MOODY. 
Some years ago a gentleman discovered, deep 
in the wooded mountains of Central Idaho, an 
owl entirely unknown to science. It proved to be 
a tiny little owl, living deep in the wilds far from 
human habitations, so shy and retiring in its 
habits that it is small wonder bird students had 
overlooked it. The gentleman only succeeded in 
capturing a very few specimens, and these, to¬ 
gether with a full description of the bird, he sent 
to Washington, where all the ornithologists 
united in agreeing that it was a new species, and 
they called it Megascops flammeola idahoensis, 
which means that it has a round head and large 
eyes, is colored reddish brown, and lives in 
Idaho. While the head tells you that the owl is 
a megascops, it is far from being a screech owl. 
The bird would scorn to produce some of the 
unearthly sounds affected by the eastern screech 
owl, for no other purpose, I verily believe, than 
to scare boys out of their wits when they are sent 
to drive the cows up from the woods pasture of 
a late evening. 
Being interested in birds, I naturally be¬ 
came interested in this one as soon as I read 
about its discovery, and, living on the borderland 
of the country where it had been discovered,’ 
determined to know more of it from actual ob¬ 
servation. I learned much about the dwarf 
screech owl, as it is called, and the knowledge 
came purely by accident. One summer, in com¬ 
pany with a number of my Nez Perce Indian 
friends, I encamped on the Lochsaw branch of 
the Clearwater River in the dense cedar, pine and 
hemlock forests of Central Idaho. My attention 
was attracted to a clear bell-like note which 
came ringing through the still air at sunset. The 
sound was unlike any bird note I had ever heard 
and still I was sure it was produced by a bird, for 
it had a certain avian quality unlike the vibrant 
tones of a quadruped. You grow to know bird 
sounds from those of the animals by a certain 
something impossible to define, yet quite char¬ 
acteristic. I was unable to locate the twilight bell 
ringer. Tread as softly as I might, no sooner 
had I entered the forest than the sound ceased. 
I might seat myself on a fallen log and remain 
still as the log itself, yet all was silence save the 
rustle of a poaching weasel among the dried 
leaves, or the murmur of the night wind in the 
treetops. No sooner, however, had I returned 
to camp than the sound came again, now here, 
now there, a weird baffling ventriloqual note 
breathing the very spirit of the somber cedars. 
I was several days before I knew the author 
of those beautiful clear tones. I questioned the 
Indians, but they were unable to tell me, so I 
was forced to find out for myself. There was 
a mountain meadow of some few rods in extent 
not many miles from where we were encamped, 
and this meadow and the small stream flowing- 
through it had been pre-empted by a small colony 
of beavers. I watched this meadow in the hope 
that I might surprise the artisans at work. It 
was growing dusk one evening and I had arisen 
from my place of concealment to return to camp, 
when right above my head came the elusive bird 
sound. I sank back quietly and strained my eyes 
to see the bird. Soon it came again, then an¬ 
other from a different point, then another, and 
another. In a short time a tiny owl slipped silent¬ 
ly out of the forest and perched on a dead limb 
just at the edge of the meadow, where the last 
rays of the setting sun shone full upon him. It 
was the long sought for dwarf screech owl. The 
little bird turned his head from side to side 
watching the marshy ground below, then ruffled 
his feathers, sat up straight, cocked his head and 
uttered the bell-like note, a single tone like the 
striking a silver bell. The marsh was peopled by 
innumerable green frogs that sat on the half 
submerged logs and croaked the evening through 
in unison. These frogs were the object of the 
owl’s visit. He swept down, alighted on a half 
sunken log, walked out it for a distance, lifted 
an unsuspecting frog and returned to the dead 
limb. I was struck with a singular fact. The 
owl did not swoop down upon the frog as do 
most birds of prey, but caught it from the 
ground. All about the marsh the owls were 
calling and dark forms were flitting across the 
open space until it grew too dark for me to see. 
The season was too late for nest hunting, 
but I never forgot the owls, and one spring 
early found me again in the mountains. Owls 
nest early, sometimes before the snows are gone, 
and I reasoned that the little owl was no excep¬ 
tion to the rule. Nor was it. Contrary to my 
expectations the dwarf owl was strangely silent. 
The deep toned hooting of the great horned owl, 
singing his love song, rang through the woods 
day and night, but never once did I hear the note 
of the little fellow. After several days’ close 
watch I saw a pair of them slipping through the 
dark timber, watching me anxiousty from the 
covert of some deeply umbrageous cedar. Their 
anxiety convinced me that their nest was near. 
A half hour’s search revealed a woodpecker hole 
in a tall fir snag that stood on an open hillside 
above the cedar forest. I “shinned” up this snag 
at the cost of a pair of badly torn trousers, gazed 
down into the dark cavity and saw six milk- 
white eggs about the size of robin’s eggs, re- 
