Aug. 5, 1911.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
209 
you are always likely to come on one feeding 
in the vicinity. 
Windy weather makes deer more wild and 
nervous than ordinarily. They seem to realize 
the danger that attaches to the uproar which so 
effectually shuts out all suspicious sounds, and 
in consequence exercise the greatest vigilance. 
Yet with a gale blowing in your favor, you can 
sometimes compass their sharpened instincts 
and make a successful still-hunt. 
In the Adirondacks snow falls frequently dur¬ 
ing October, but is seldom deep enough to track 
by. Now that the law cuts off the fifteen days 
in November, there will be little hunting done 
in this line except that which is illegally prac¬ 
ticed. During the past years I have never been 
in the woods later than the end of October, 
and therefore know nothing about the condi¬ 
tions that govern still-hunting at this season. 
Old hunters have told me, however, that the 
snow should be soft and moist and about six 
inches deep. A light crust is as bad as a hard 
crust. It cracks sharply at every step, and no 
matter how much care is taken, the deer will 
generally hear you coming long before you 
can see him. 
There are three things to be remembered 
when you go still-hunting. First, as you start 
out note the direction of the wind and always 
keep it in mind; second, leave behind all un¬ 
necessary clothes, heavy boots and useless para¬ 
phernalia; third, unless you are a fairly good 
hunter and woodsman yourself, always take 
with you some one who knows the business, 
and make sure to follow his instructions. If 
you do this you will be successful and after 
several seasons of practice and experience in 
the woods, become a good still-hunter yourself. 
As the years pass and the limits on wild terri- 
The Wandering Albatross 
By WILLIAM D. CARPENTER 
[Illustrations adapted by the author, from sketches and photographs.] 
light, thirty-six hundred tons, fifty days out of 
Bayonne, N. J., on a passage to Japan, that we 
met our first wandering albatross. 
My log runs thus: “Oct. 17, 26° 46' south; 
32° 48' west. Course, south 18° east. Day’s run, 
127 knots. Light breeze from E. S. E. with fine 
weather and smooth sea. This morning Jack 
called me on deck to see my first albatross. 
By the time I came up I could only distinguish 
a white bird skimming close to the water far 
off toward the horizon. Again at sunset a gray 
one was pointed out that was perhaps a mile 
distant. These with flying-fish about!’’ 
Of the great tribe of tube-nosed sea birds or 
petrels, the nineteen or more species of alba¬ 
trosses now known to science constitute the 
birds of largest size. Indeed, even the great 
condor of the Andes, stretching nine feet from 
tip to tip, falls two feet short of the enormous 
expanse of the wandering albatross. The best 
known member of the family, because living in 
the direct path of the globe-trotting public, is 
the gony or black-footed albatross of the North 
Pacific; but the great southern ocean is head¬ 
quarters for albatrosses. 
C AN you look a pelican in the face without 
laughing? However, I am writing about 
albatrosses, not pelicans. I know the 
“Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner,” much of it by 
heart, so that I looked forward to meeting with 
the uncanny bird that soars above the mast¬ 
head and never tires. 
It was aboard the four-masted barque Day- 
*American usage seems to be without exception: 
Albatross; British authorities are equally one in using 
Albatros. 
SNOWY-WINGED ALBATROSS ON ITS NEST—KERGULEN 
ISLAND. 
tory draw constantly closer, we feel more and 
more strongly the need of game protection and 
the rigid enforcement of game laws. Recollec¬ 
tion of the history of the buffalo fills us with 
well-founded apprehension, and we sometimes 
wonder if all our North American fauna will 
not perish likewise. Should such be the case 
among the larger mammals, the Virginia deer 
HAULING A WANDERING ALBATROSS ABOARD. 
Drawn from a photograph by the author. 
would undoubtedly be the last species to suc¬ 
cumb, for as I have said before, more than 
others of his kind, he seems blessed with the 
faculty of self-protection. Let us hope, how¬ 
ever, that this may never come to pass, and that 
he will never be exiled from his old haunts. 
For what indeed would be the beauty of the 
great solitudes without this most noble of 
game animals. His very absence would be a 
reproach as shameful as that of the buffalo and 
passenger pigeon. Now is the time, therefore, 
to act, to take such measures as will guard his 
future welfare, so that the art of still-hunting 
may be practiced always to the benefit of health, 
endurance and manhood. 
From about 25° south latitudef to, according 
to Dr. Reichenow, the South Polar ice, these 
animate aeroplanes skim over the desolate ex¬ 
panse of water peopled with blowing whales and 
myriad other sea birds. Over this great south¬ 
ern ocean the winds, unobstructed by land, have 
a clean sweep around the world and heap up 
waves the largest observed by man. 
John Gould. Capt. F. W. Hutton and Dr. 
Husker have devoted much scientific attention 
to the flight of the albatross, which probably 
most nearly approaches the mechanical mono¬ 
plane. They are almost constantly on the wing, 
although in moderate weather they occasionally 
rest upon the water. For many consecutive 
minutes they will scarcely move the wings; 
rising and falling behind the stern of the ship 
and occasionally sweeping off to explore the 
surface of the surrounding sea. Professor 
Giglioli records a certain white albatross which 
in 1868 accompanied his ship for 3,500 miles.$ 
In the Auk of 1895 appeared this note by 
Frank M. Chapman: The museum of Brown 
University possesses a specimen of the wander¬ 
ing albatross (Diomedea exu'ans ) to which is 
attached this interesting label: 
“December 8th, 1847. Ship Euphrates, Ed¬ 
wards, New Bedford, 16 months out, 2.300 bbls. 
of oil, 150 of it sperm. I have not seen a whale 
for 4 months. Lat. 43 0 00' south. Long. 148° 
40' west. Thick, foggy with rain.” 
On the opposite side it reads: 
“This was taken from the neck of a goney, on 
the coast of Chili, by Hiram Luther, Dec. 20th, 
1847. In Lat. 45 0 50' south. Long. 78° 27' west. 
Taken out of a small bottle tied round the bird’s 
neck.” 
The shortest distance between Capt. Edwards’ 
position, about 800 miles east of New Zealand, 
and Capt. Luther’s position, off the coast of 
Chili in the vicinity of Juan Fernandez, is about 
3,400 miles. The bird, therefore, covered at 
least this distance in the twelve days which in¬ 
tervened between its release and capture. It is 
not probable, however, that it flew directly from 
one point to the other, but in coursing to and 
fro while searching for food it doubtless added 
hundreds of miles to its journey. Accompany¬ 
ing the label is a clipping from The Fraternal 
Union, Bristol, R. I., Dec. 16, 1875, in which 
it is stated: 
“Capt. Luther was master of the whaling 
barque Cachelot of Mattapoiset, Mass., and 
subsequently on the same voyage fell in with 
tRoughly, the latitude of Rio Janeiro, Pretoria and 
Brisbane. 
tThis is the first authentic reference to the snowy¬ 
winged albatross (Diomedea chionoptera'). 
SNOWY-WINGED ALBATROSS ON ITS NEST—KERGULEN 
BLUNDERING INTO LOG LINE. 
