288 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Feb. 23, 1907. 
THE TOP RAIL. 
Prof. John Hyslop writes me interestingly as 
follows: 
“I notice in the number of Forest and Stream, 
Feb. 9, that you anpear to have been greatly 
puzzled and mystified by observing in a case 
which you describe that the tide after falling for 
some time again commenced to rise and con¬ 
tinued to do so for a period, and at the end of 
this fell rapidly. 
“This account I saw copied into one of the 
daily papers, and it occurs to me that the phe¬ 
nomenon, which I have reason to believe, is not 
an uncommon one, may have much > general in¬ 
terest. I understand that the incident related 
is paralleled in other localities, not merely oc¬ 
casionally or rarely, but as a usual and every¬ 
day occurrence, and that it is a consequent of 
the configuration of the land adjacent to the bay 
or inlet where the peculiar action occurs. If 
outside such a place there is a main channel in 
which the ebb tide, coursing by the mouth of 
the inlet, is obstructed in its onward flow and 
deflected inward by the land forming a hook, 
precisely such action as you describe may be 
looked for. 
“A notable instance of this is in the harbor 
of Poole, situate on the English channel, to which 
my attention was called while on a short visit 
there in 1871. I have before me the pilot direc¬ 
tions for this harbor, and find Poole harbor has 
the advantage of the tide ebbing and flowing 
twice in twelve hours, which causes the tide to 
remain at a high level for three and a half 
hours. At spring tides after high water the 
tide recedes for two and a half hours, fall¬ 
ing about two feet; it then rises again six or 
eight inches, making what is called the second 
high water three and a half hours after the first; 
it then falls gradually for nearly three hours to 
the regular low water.” 
I have only this to add to Prof. Hyslop’s ex¬ 
planation, that the phenomenon I referred to has 
never been repeated, 'so far as I have knowledge, 
in the inlet referred to, and I am familiar with 
it at all seasons of the year. At every other 
time, so far as my observations have gone, the 
tides rose and fell with the usual regularity, these 
observations extending over several years. 
Neither wind nor freshet could have caused the 
“second flood tide.” 
T. M. D. Stevens, of Guilford, Conn., pro¬ 
pounds some interesting queries herewith: 
“I take quite an interest in the Top Rail, and 
having nothing to do, being laid up with the 
rheumatism, and having plenty of time to think 
over the many pleasant days spent with my dog 
and gun last fall, T thought I would write of a 
little incident that happened while out one day 
after partridges; it may interest some shooter 
who perhaps has had a like experience: 
“One bright, cool morning in November I 
started with a couple of friends, Frank and 
Dock, out into the woods. We followed an old 
road to a small swamp where we expected to 
find game. There was an old stone wall run¬ 
ning alongside of the road, and just before we 
got to the swamp there was another wall run¬ 
ning at right angles down alongside of the 
swamp. My dog Jim was hunting alongside of 
the road, sometimes over the fence. Fie came 
to the other wall and jumped upon it and stood 
weaving back and forth, evidently on a loose 
stone, trying to keep his balance. Dock said, 
‘Look at Jim.’ And we had both walked up to 
where the two walls came together when a par¬ 
tridge rose and started for the swamp, which was 
about twelve rods away, but she never reached 
there, for Dock and I fired at almost the same 
instant. I remarked to Dock that she must be 
badly cut judging from the feathers in the air. 
The dog picked up the dead bird and had got 
more than half way back to us when out went 
another from under the wall. 
“Our attention was all on the dog bringing- 
in the bird, but we got ourselves together and 
fired when the grouse was well down - to the 
swamp and had the satisfaction of seeing her 
turn on her side. We knew she was winged. 
ANTAGONISM OF INTEREST YET COMMUNITY OF 
OBJECT. 
“When this bird started the dog stopped and 
watched it, then went down to the swamp with 
the dead bird in his mouth. When he got to the 
edge of the swamp he laid the bird down very 
carefully and started into the swamp after the 
winged bird. We loaded up and waited a few 
minutes. He came out of the swamp with the 
winged bird and brought it to me, for he will 
net bring a bird to any one else. I took it and 
pinched its neck and put it in my pocket. Then 
the dog went and got the first bird and brought 
it to me. 
"Did the dog know that the first bird was 
dead and could not get away, and that the other 
was only winged and could get away? Did the 
dog use any reason, or did it just happen so? 
I claim he used reason. I would like to hear 
from some of my brother shooters about what 
they think of it.” 
* 
Few people think nowadays, said an old New 
\ orker, of how this island looked 400 years ago. 
Now one sees nothing but brick and stone, and 
hurrying people. There are three stories of 
transportation lines, piled one upon another, and 
houses from fifteen to thirty stories high. It is 
hard to look back to> the time before the white 
man sailed up the bay. Then New York island 
was forest clad, with wide meadows facing the 
bay and the rivers, and perhaps with little open 
parks among the woods on the higher land. Of 
course, there must have been plenty of game here ; 
deer, bear and turkeys; and springs and ponds 
with brooks running down to the salt water in 
all directions. 
Why, I myself can remember when we used 
often to see quail and woodcock not so very far 
from where Central Park is now, and when the j 
herons used to breed in a patch of woods which 
stood in blocks now covered with big apartment 
houses. The ponds in which boys used to go ! 
fishing, and about the edge of which woodcock 
were sometimes started, have long been filled up. 
But underneath this big city the springs still 
pour out their floods and the brooks still run to 
the salt water. It is the memory of this fact 
that prompted the delightful poem on Minetta 
Brook, a buried stream in New York city which 
from time to time comes to light in the course 
of building operations. The poem appeared re¬ 
cently in the New York Times: 
MINETTA WATER. 
(The Song of the Buried Stream.) 
Deer-hoof dint and moccasin print 
Stamped the moss that rimmed my flow; 
Adder’s tongue and fragrant mint 
Grew—where nothing now may grow; 
Dragon flies in shimmering schools 
Reveled here, an airy rout; 
Minnows rilled my dimpled pools; 
Through my rapids flashed the trout. 
Gone the hunter, fled the deer; 
All the birds I loved are flown; 
Men have hid my waters clear 
Under piles of rigid stone. 
Men have tombed my silver springs; 
Yet, within the sunless caves 
All unheard my torrent sings, • ♦ 
All unseen I pour my waves. 
Mocking, delving, deep I lurk, 
What! they dream my fount is dry? 
Lo! I ruin all their work. 
Mortal, they; but deathless, I. 
Let them hold their gloomy day! 
I that laugh shall rule at last. 
\\ hen the massive walls decay, 
Y\ hen the towers to earth are cast, 
1 shall flash a clearer sun, 
I shall lure my birds again; 
Deep in bloom my streams shall run 
Through the crumbled homes of men. 
-—Arthur Guiterman. 
“Did you ever try tying your own trout flies?” 
asked the man with the gun. 
“Yes,” answered the man with the rod, “but 
it wasn't any use; they were no good.” 
“How was that?” 
“Well, you see, wild ducks’ feathers are the 
best. So when I went shooting I saved some 
ducks' feathers, and later used them in tying 
my flies. 
"When I tried the flies in the spring and the 1 
trout wouldn’t touch them, I thought maybe it 
was because I was using the feathers of salt¬ 
water ducks in a fresh-water trout stream. But 
my fishing partner got onto the trouble all 
right. You see, the stream had been heavily 
stocked with German trout and they had driven 
out all the native trout.” 
“Well, what had that to do with it?” 
"Everything. The hooks, you know. I had 
used American made hooks. My partner j 
bought some materials and tied up a dozen flies 
and we went out and caught the limit. I 
couldn’t account for it, until I found the wrap¬ 
ping off the hooks that my partner had bought. 
It was labeled, ‘Made in Germany.’ ” 
Grizzly King. 
