206 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Feb. 17, 1912 
A Great Temptation. 
scorn of her ditch theory. She couldn’t for the 
life of her see why men being there in the day 
time shou.d affect mink who came out at night, 
especially when the two d.tches looked so mucii 
alike, and were only half a mile apart. Accord¬ 
ingly, while Jim was away on a visit to the 
Cherry Hill line, down to Phi lips’ ditch she 
went. There, she knew it! Under the shelving 
bank were prints of agile paws. Sis followed 
them craftily while hope surged high within 
her. Once her foot slipped off a root into s’x 
inches off icy water, but her excitement was so 
great that she only said "Ouch!’’ and went right 
on. Presently another set of tracks joined the 
hrst, then a third, and the mingled trail led 
straight to an old willow tree. Ah! there be¬ 
tween the roots was the entrance to the den. 
Sis inspected it with sparkling eyes, and then :n 
a minute caught sight of a second entrance a 
yard away. 
" ‘No mink wou’d frequent a place like that,’ ’’ 
she mocked gleefully, “but they do, Jimmy, my 
boy; there’s mink, mink, lashin’s of mink!’’ 
She reached home breathless and giggling at 
the joke she had on Jim. On Jim, who knew 
so much. Jim was home again, too. “The deuce 
you say!’’ he exclaimed when she burst upon hhn 
with the news, and he started off on a run, 
traps swinging and clashing. She tailed behind, 
arriving at the ditch some minutes after he did. 
He was gravely regarding the mink tracks. 
“Well, Jimmy?’’ she chirped, nearly bursting 
with pride. 
“This trail runs right up to Phillips’ barn,” 
he said. “There’s a hole under the stable, and 
I sa.w one of the beggars duck into it.” 
“Oh, Jim, how tame they must be! We can 
probably catch them all and then you can buy 
that fly-rod, too, and—what’s the matter?” Jim 
was leaning against the willow tree, shaking with 
laughter. “Oh, Sis,” he gurgled, “don’t you 
know a rat track yet?” 
But there’s no relying on a femhiine sense of 
humor, and when a girl takes a joke as Sis d el 
this time, there’s only one thing to do, unless 
she’s some other fellow’s sister. J’m roared at 
her. “Oh, brace up! It doesn’t matter. It’s 
all right! We’ll get the canoe; I caught two 
big fellows at Cherry Hill.” 
Colorado School of Forestry. 
In the Ranger course of the School of Fores¬ 
try, Colorado College has achieved a distinct 
success. This course has attracted a large body 
of men from the National forests of Colorado 
and Wyoming. With six weeks of field work, 
including studies of the growth and develop¬ 
ment of forest trees and mapping and estimat¬ 
ing timber; the course has been of the greatest 
practical value. Forest service experts on prob¬ 
lems of forestation, grazing, the management of 
Rocky Mountain forests and forest fire protec¬ 
tion, have given liberal assistance. 
The aim has been to give the rangers train¬ 
ing to enable them to co-operate more fully in 
the technical problem of forestry that appear 
constantly in connection with the administration 
of the National forests. The success of the 
course this year means that it will be a perma¬ 
nent feature of the School of Forestry.—Colo¬ 
rado Springs Gazette. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Last November, while living in my little 
brush hut on Oakledge Tract in Northeastern 
Connecticut, I took down the old .32-20 single¬ 
shot—the rifle that I have used for more than 
twenty-five years—and started for the woods 
just back of the cabin, intending to get a couple 
of squirrels for the next day’s dinner. 
Following a path along the brook side I got a 
glimpse of a big squirrel above a limb near the 
top of a very large and tall chestnut tree. As‘ 
the little animal was very slow about showing 
enough of his anatomy for a fair shot. I just 
dropped upon one knee and watched and waited. 
Presently I heard a splash in the water just 
below and behind me. Turning to look, I was 
greatly surprised to see a full-grown buck stand¬ 
ing near the bank broadside to me and less 
than thirty yards away. And what a splendid 
target he was! Rising carefully, I cocked my 
rifle, put it to my shoulder and aimed directly 
at his heart. Just then a thought came to me, 
and saying to myself, “Lyon, if you pull the 
trigger there’s a hundred-dollar fine awaiting 
you,” I lowered the rifle and stood watching 
him. 
Presently he turned and stood facing me. 
Wasn’t he a beauty, though, and what a splendid 
pair of antlers! Again cocking the rifle and 
putting it to my shoulder I took careful aim at 
his forehead, not with any intention of shoot¬ 
ing, but just to see how it would seem to take 
a shot at such noble game. 
After standing and facing me a moment the 
buck turned, trotted back and forth along a 
worm fence, then, with the greatest ease, he 
jumped over into the adjoining lot and trotting 
off, was lost in the woods. 
Again looking up into the big chestnut I saw 
the squirrel and dropped it with a shot through 
the head. Going a little further I saw another 
gray near the top of a big pine, which came 
down with a well directed shot through the 
body. Then with the two I went back to the 
hut, dressed them, and next day had a fine 
fricassee for dinner. 
Two days from then, after having packed my 
suit case preparatory to taking the journey to 
my home in Asbury Park, N. J., and having a 
little time to spare, I took a walk through the 
woods near where I had seen the buck, and saw 
a doe among the laurels. It was a full grown 
one and did not seem the least bit afraid. It 
leisurely trotted off to a nearby swamp. 
There were quite a number of deer around 
there during last summer and fall, as they 
trimmed my garden truck quite closely. Every 
day I saw many deer tracks of all sizes around 
there and especially around a water hole near 
the spring just back of the hut. A doe and two 
half-grown fawns seemed to make their home 
nearby, and they were beauties, too. 
Gray squirrels were more than ordinarily 
plentiful, probably owing to the extremely large 
crop of acorns, chestnuts and shell-bark hickory 
nuts. In the early season I found two partridge 
nests near the cabin, one having seventeen eggs 
and the other fifteen. In the former, all except 
one of the eggs were hatched, and in the latter, 
every egg hatched. During the season not a few 
rabbits were seen and one good-sized covey of 
quail. In the fall several gunners, including my¬ 
self, got goodly sized bags of game on and 
around Oakledge. A. L. L. 
An Unconscious Bluff. 
Kettle Falls, Wash., Feb. z—Editor Forest 
and Stream: On the 13th of the present month, 
while I was watching the flight and the work 
of a flock of cedar birds in the orchard, three 
robins came and alighted in an apple tree within 
five rods of the door. This appeared note¬ 
worthy in a locality further north than Quebec, 
Canada. 
Our coldest weather so far this winter was 
17 degrees below; for one night only. 
A few days ago a teamster near town saw a 
lynx—my neighbor insists that the brute was a 
“link”—cross the road in front of his team, and 
upon his reporting the matter in the village a 
party of hunters with lanterns and dogs took 
the trail and wallowed bravely through the snow 
in search; but up to date that link in the chain 
of wild life remains unbroken. 
Last night at 10 o’clock, while yet wife and I 
remained awake, what was probably the same 
creature turned himself loose and for a dozen 
times gave his peculiar cry in the road in front 
of the house within a hundred yards. Of 
course, it was then dark as pitch and useless to 
try for him. 
My savage house dog—as he could not back 
entirely through the closed door behind—bravely 
faced the night prowler, and from the porch 
hurled defiant challenge; thoughtfully omitting 
to step out and shake hands with the inquisitive 
stranger. It was the first lynx I have heard in 
years. 
If readers will pardon the garrulity of an old 
man, I will tell of an adventure with one of 
these animals in Western Iowa more than fifty- 
six years ago. I am not quite sure that this 
was not written for the paper many years since; 
but it is worth telling twice, as it illustrates 
the fact that animals differ in disposition, 
strangely at times. 
A neighbor lad of about my own age reported 
that on coming home in the dusk of evening 
from a deer hunt, a big lynx, whose shadowy 
form was just distinguishable in the gloom of 
approaching night, crowded so close on his 
heels that he turned and shot at the brute; re¬ 
loaded his rifle and again finding the animal en¬ 
tirely too close behind, again fired at it, and not 
until almost home did the savage thing dis¬ 
appear. 
His story caused some merriment in the little 
settlement, yet the more thoughtful ones, who 
knew Tom to be a cool, determined lad, with a 
lot of frontier experience, began wondering if so 
cowardly a creature had really meant to attack 
the boy. 
