14 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. i, 1910. 
work. Moreover, these men are of the forest 
and were used to destroy its usefulness. They 
would be glad of the chance to assist in restor¬ 
ing the forest to its former splendor and to 
better than its former condition. 
It seems to me that the big works of the State 
—good roads making and barge canal digging— 
should have a third work, that of reforestation. 
Wherever one goes through the State the hill¬ 
tops and sides show woods and wood lots. If 
every county in the State had a tree nursery 
from which landowners could get appropriate 
seedlings for their waste lands it would be only 
a few years when the wood lots would be as 
important commercially as the cleared tracts. 
The owners of cattle who now sell or kill off 
their stock because they have no water for their 
animals are the men who cut the trees and brush 
away from the headwaters of the springs and 
brooks. Thus the same problem confronts the 
farmer as confronts the woodsmen, villages and 
power developers on the Adirondack foothills. 
A very few acres of thick timber planted on the 
head of a dry ravine or around an old swampy 
place would restore dried up springs and supply 
many a farm with constant water. At least, the 
fishermen who this year found their favorite 
Adirondack trout streams drying up have oppor¬ 
tunity to consider the reasons why and their 
remedy. Raymond S. Spears. 
An Alaskan Relic. 
Minneapolis, Minn., Dec. 27. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: An immense tusk of ivory 9 feet 2 inches 
long and six inches in diameter has been placed 
in the museum at the public library. This tusk 
was one of a pair belonging to a prehistoric 
mammoth. It is broken off at both ends and 
J. W. Frazen, curator of the museum, believes 
it must have been twelve feet long. It weighs 
150 pounds. The tusk is full of cracks, whether 
from use in battle with some other prehistoric 
animal or from the grinding in the glaziers 
through the centuries is unknown. It was found 
ten degrees north of the Arctic circle in Alaska. 
Robert Page Lincoln. 
On a North Carolina Lake. 
Mattamuskeet Lake is an expanse of shal¬ 
low water and dry reefs some six miles wide 
by fifteen long, situated in the extreme 
eastern part of North Carolina. From the 
time “when the memory of man runneth not 
to the contrary” it has been noted for the 
thousands of geese and ducks that in winter 
feed and fatten on the roots of a peculiar 
grass that grows in the rich beach muck of 
these reefs. • After a dry season such as that 
of last summer and autumn, the water gradu¬ 
ally subsides, and these reefs become dry and 
firm; so much so, that a horse can be driven 
over them at a lively clip. The abundance of 
the food keeps the fowl in splendid condition 
from October to March, and imparts to their 
flesh a flavor as rich and delicious as the famed 
celery of Currituck. The shooting is over live 
decoys; either frcfm bush blinds erected before 
the fowl come, or from sink boxes near their 
feeding ground. 
I had long desired to enjoy some of this 
shooting, but being situated more conveniently 
to the Pamlico Sound shooting, I usually, when 
an opportunity presented, took my boat and 
decoys, and went to those broad marshes— 
with varying success—but this year I said to 
my brother and shooting pal, “Let us spend 
Thanksgiving on the lake,” and he agreed to 
do so. Accordingly, I wrote to a friend that 
we would be down on the 24th to try our luck 
at our favorite sport, fowl shooting. 
Wednesday morning dawned cold and rain¬ 
ing. We waited until near noon, but the storm 
continued. There were thirty miles of coun¬ 
try road lying between us and the goosing 
grounds, and the only means of reducing that 
distance was to face a “stinging northeaster.” 
We decided to make the trip. The duffle was 
soon loaded into the rig and we were off. It 
was not a very pleasant drive, but in just four 
hours we drove into Williams’ yard, and learned 
from his wife that he was out shooting. Hop¬ 
ing to get a shot, late in the afternoon we 
drove out to the blind—only half a mile from 
his house—and reached him just as the last of 
the decoys were being crated. When I saw 
him go to a bunch of brush a short distance 
away, and pull out twelve old “honkers” that 
had dropped to his gun during the day, I felt 
that we had come to the right place. We went 
back to the house, and when our horse was 
rubbed dry and made comfortable, we went in 
'to a warm, cheerful fire and soon were enjoy¬ 
ing Williams’ remarks on the chances for sport 
next day. Presently his wife announced that 
supper was ready, and it may be conjectured 
that we were ready, too. By the time that the 
feast was ended, we had quite forgotten our 
disagreeable drive and were ready for the pipe 
and more information “touching on and apper¬ 
taining to” the present indications for a good 
day’s shooting. More than once the familiar 
honk, honk of the flying geese brought me to 
the door, and I saw a big flock passing directly 
over the house, coming from the sound to the 
feeding grounds. What a babel of voices when 
they began to call to those that had come to 
the reef since we left! At different times dur¬ 
ing the night we could hear geese passing 
dose by. 
Before daylight next morning Mrs. Williams 
had prepared for us a nice warm breakfast, and 
we were eager to get to the box. Decoys 
were soon cooped and on the cart, and when 
the sun peeped over the blue woods at the 
east end of the lake, we were crouched in a 
sink box, with thirty-two live geese and eleven 
mallard duck decoys in front of us, each a 
splendid specimen of his kind and perfectly 
trained. We could now see a long dark line 
on the water about twelve hundred yards away, 
and soon we knew it was the lot of geese that 
had taken fright and left the feeding grounds 
when we approached to put out decoys. We 
had waited only a few moments when five 
geese rose from the main flock and came di¬ 
rectly toward us. The decoys stood and called 
perfectly. The geese approached, made two 
circles around, bent their wings and dropped 
on the water about thirty yards away. When 
they had walked clear to the decoys, we rose 
and let them have it, but only two remained 
as toll. Poor marksmanship; but we took it 
good-naturedly and resolved to do better with 
our next opportunity. 
Hardly had we crouched down when a brace 
of mallards came, and Pat made a beautiful 
double. Soon seven geese came and dropped 
some seventy-five yards outside. Having been 
warned by our host not to allow them to re¬ 
main under such circumstances, as other geese 
would be liable to decoy to them, we loaded 
with BBs and tried to coax our guns to get 
them at that distance. We got one with four 
shots. A brace of mallards had almost alighted 
on the box, but we had let them go. Soon a 
bunch of five mallards came, and we nailed three 
of them. A single goose was the next to fold 
his wings in obedience to the sharp crack of 
my little gun. Two more bunches of geese 
came, but had evidently been shot at from that 
or some other box, as they were very wary and 
refused to decoy. Later three came and we 
got a pair. 
Geese seemed to stop flying about 10 o’clock, 
and after that we had visits only from an oc¬ 
casional mallard or blackduck. While many 
charges went astray, we were still adding a 
few beauties to our bunch. The afternoon was 
calm with no birds moving, so we decided to 
stop for the day. 
Leaving the goose decoys at the stake for 
the morning shoot, we cooped the ducks and 
bunched our day’s kill, six honkers, eleven 
mallards and two blackducks, and I want to say 
that when they were ready to carry we were 
not looking around for more ballast. 
Next morning Williams was to go to the box 
with us. As we went out on the feeding 
ground, there seemed to be hundreds of geese 
all around, but they went off in the darkness. 
Not one of us had loaded his gun, and when 
we reached the decoys there was a wild one 
among them that allowed us to walk within 
twenty yards of him before moving. As soon 
as it was light enough to shoot, ducks began 
to decoy. Williams stood by and told us to 
crack them, which we did much better than 
