June 8, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
723 
From Eastern City to Western Forest 
Chapter IV.—Our Small Neighbors 
By ERION 
sustaining food. Italian soldiers do this at 
maneuvers. 
^ =i! * * 
Campers are fond, especially in their city or 
suburban dens, of accumulating souvenirs of 
their journeyings. These mostly relate to arms, 
trophies of the chase, angling, etc. But I never 
knew one to harbor a collection of these curious 
keepable-for-years tent-life foodstuffs of the 
nations—of the greatest interest to one’s 
friends, but whose belief is often sorely taxed 
on being told that a stone-like plaque is a high 
grade of compressed tea, or that a piece of 
blackish “mineral” can be developed into a 
juicy salmon-steak. So on through the lot, it 
is a collection of food mysteries. My own den 
collection of these useful foods is fairly elabo¬ 
rate, yet represents only a portion of the sum 
total. Any reader interested, who desires to, is 
welcome to look them over; and could himself 
form a collection by getting around among the 
foreign importers of any of our big cities. 
I have thus told about some of the outdoor- 
life food conveniences of other races, yet have 
only touched on a tithe of them—just “scratched 
the surface,” so to write. However, a represen¬ 
tative selection has been made, enough to give 
an idea that the subject is a big one, and that 
“we Americans don’t know everything.” Many 
conveniences met with abroad are not imported 
by foreign merchants into this country; for on 
repeated inquiry I have failed to get many 
articles required for illustration, as the biltong 
of the Afrikander; the dried banana-bread of 
tropical America; the compressed raisin-bread 
of Central Asia; the barley hardtack of North 
Europe; the whole-leaf, stone-like green tea 
slabs or plaques of Nippon, and many others. 
If it is found that these outdoor-life concen¬ 
trated or condensed foods of the nations arouse 
the readers’ interest, the subject may be taken 
up again later; also, briefly, various of the un¬ 
known camping-out conveniences, articles and 
“wrinkles” of tent-lifers of other climes. 
New Publications. 
H.vkper’s Guide to Wild Flowers, by Mrs. Caro¬ 
line A. Creevey. Harper & Brothers, New 
York. Price, $1.75 net. 
Mrs. Creevey, the author of “Recreations in 
Botany” and “Flowers of Field, Hill and 
Swamp,” has now given us a book in which much 
space is devoted to flower identification by means 
of color. They are also considered in relation 
to their habitats and according to season. The 
volume is based on the new classification adopted 
in the seventh edition of Gray’s Manual, pub¬ 
lished in 1908, and embodies tbe decisions of the 
Vienna Congress of 1905. A chapter on Vines 
and Shrubs is also included. It is adapted for 
use as a field book. Features of the illustrations 
are eight colored plates. 
The Mystery of Golf, by Arnold Haultain. The 
Macmillan Co., New York. 249 pages, 50 
cents net. 
This book is in its second edition, and for 
the very good reason that it tells the story of the 
game of golf interestingly and comprehensively 
to the player and the non-player. It is decidedly 
well written and a thorough treatise. 
P REVIOUS chapters have told of leaving the 
crowded city, of finding a distant home 
among wooded hills, of the autumnal up- 
rush of salmon to their spawning beds, of chance 
human visitors to our ranch, and so forth. This 
chapter has to do with visitors of another sort. 
We came to the Pacific wilderness in pursuit 
of life, liberty and happiness, just as the ances¬ 
tors entered the Atlantic wilderness from Europe 
two or three hundred years ago. And like those 
ancestors of ours and yours we brought necessity 
with us; necessity, that blessing which prevents 
men from dawdling their lives away. Being 
busy every day and all day with what are called 
practical duties, we have little or no time for 
scouring the woods, either for study or adven¬ 
ture, but there is abundant time and ample op¬ 
portunity for observing many small neighbors— 
the creatures that live in field and wood—for 
these things do not have to be hunted. They 
come voluntarily, exploring everything, and tak¬ 
ing most careful note of what they see, hear, feel 
and smell. The larger animals are quick to learn 
the danger lines, established by humanity; lines 
which are never crossed. The smaller animals, 
being less discriminating, perish in great numbers. 
The destruction of encroaching animals ought 
to be tempered with mercy and guided by knowl¬ 
edge. Some killing is necessary, but it should 
be humane. And, curiously enough, as human 
intelligence increases, the slaughter of animals 
becomes less and less imperative. To spare the 
life of a skunk, for instance, is to rid one's 
premises of scores or hundreds of mice, for the 
skunk is a mouser. 
I began wrong with the skunks at the ranch; 
that is, by fearing them. Before the cabin was 
finished they used to come into our bed rooms 
at night, and it was like having spooks about 
us. But they never did harm. 
One night during a skunk raid or period of 
visitation the little visitor was plainly seen by 
lamp light. The hour was near midnight. It 
moved about the floor like a black shadow, but 
presently withdrew. An hour later there was 
a commotion in the poultry house, and I was 
there in a few minutes with gun and lantern, 
prepared for action. Half a dozen hens had 
been pushed off the roost and were on the floor, 
but not one was hurt. As each hen had dropped 
she had squalled out in fright, and had thus 
given the alarm. The skunk was in a nest when 
I arrived, looking for eggs or for mice. No 
damage had been done, but I nevertheless killed 
the intruder and made a bad mess of it. Some 
six of the animals were shot or trapped before 
that year’s visitation came to an end. 
Then came the deer mice, or maybe the deer 
mice were there first, and the skunks in pursuit 
of them. At any rate, the mice were legion, and 
I had weeks and months of work in getting rid 
of them; work that the skunks would have per¬ 
formed for me had they been let alone. 
It is now clear to me that skunk slaughter is 
not only unnecessary, but actually a mistake. 
My dwelling house and poultry houses have long 
since been made practically vermin proof, and 
we have never yet lost a fowl or chick by e ther 
skunk or weasel. More than that, I have been 
at close quarters with skunks a number of times 
by day and by night, and they have never acted 
on the offensive. Their horrid odor is strictly 
WE FOUND NEST OF PARTRIDGE EGGS. 
