92 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. is, 1910. 
It seemed incredible that the voices of the 
curlew could ring out so loud and sweet for 
such a distance, for it does not seem like a 
voice with great carrying power. In an hour 
or so the curlew were feeding all about us. 
I do not know for how many days they re¬ 
mained, as we had some exploring to do in the 
barren part of the mountains, and did not look 
for curlew again. Robert T. Morris. 
The “Wapiti” of the Crees. 
Okanagan Landing, B. C., Dec. 28.— Editor 
Forest and Stream: It has long been an ac¬ 
cepted fact that the correct name for the Ameri¬ 
can elk should be the Cree name wapiti, and 
this name has of late years been coming into 
general use. 
To my great surprise I learned last fall while 
hunting in Northern Alberta that the wapiti 
of the Crees is the white goat and their name 
for the elk is quite different. The name of the 
goat is really Wap-a-tick', the accent strongly 
on the last syllable in which the “k” is quite soft 
like the German *“ich,” so that the spelling 
“wapiti” fairly conveys the sound of the word. 
This simply means white sheep or white deer, 
the Cree name “atick” being common to both. 
The name for the goat is thus synonymous with 
the Chinook “snow mowitch” or white deer, the 
common appellation of the goat among the Brit¬ 
ish Columbia Indians. 
The Cree name for the elk is Wa-wa'-ska-saw; 
the caribou is a-tick'; the mountain sheep, a-si- 
ni-wa'-ti a-tick; the antelope, a-pit-a-tick'-os, the 
little “atick',” while strangely enough the com¬ 
mon deer of the region (mule deer) is called the 
“little moose,” a-pit-i-moos'-os, and the moose 
is the well known moos'wa. 
It would be interesting to obtain from north¬ 
ern fur traders a corroboration of the above and 
to know if these names are common to the whole 
Cree nation. My principal informant is Ed. 
Carey, of Andrew, Alberta, who is well quali¬ 
fied from his intimate knowledge ofl the Cree 
Indians, with whom he has traded all his life. 
It has always been rather puzzling to me why 
American naturalists have so strongly objected 
to the name “elk” which is not applied anywhere 
in America to the moose, its rightful claimant. 
A much worse misnomer is the American “spar¬ 
row hawk” which is accepted without cavil. 
American kestrel would be the natural cog¬ 
nomen, especially as there are two species of 
true sparrow hawks—Cooper’s hawk and the 
sharp-shinned. The latter is really the sparrow 
hawk par excellence, living as it' does on small 
birds which the poor little Falco sparverius only 
very rarely molests. 
While on the subject of elk, it may be interest¬ 
ing to some of your readers to know that there 
are considerable numbers of these fine animals 
south of the Saskatchewan River about sixty 
miles east of Edmonton, and I also heard re¬ 
ports of them north of the river. The law of 
Alberta enacts a close season until 1910, but 
little is done to enforce the law. Numbers are 
killed by settlers, and when skinned and cut up 
the carcasses cannot be told from moose except 
by an expert. 
The Scandinavian settlers are also offenders 
in this respect; the law tells them that the elk 
is protected, while there is an open season for 
moose. The latter animal is of course the one 
they know in their own land as elk, so they kill 
the protected animal while they leave the moose 
alone. One old Swede was quite indignant after 
describing the killing of what he called a moose 
when I told him the animal he had killed was 
an elk. He carefully described the round horns 
“not flat like an elk’s” and eventually brought 
down a pair of horns of Cervus canadensis from 
the roof of his cabin which he exhibited in all 
sincerity as proof of his innocence of breaking 
the game laws. Allan Brooks. 
A True Case of Instinct. 
West Park, N. Y., Jan. 7. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: My flock of buff Wyandottes are great 
pets, and their house being next to my work¬ 
shop, I have chances to watch them very often. 
Frozen chickweed is a favorite winter food 
with me, and I have often noticed that the 
hens will toss it about, throwing it over their 
heads and working hard to try to tear off a 
piece, instead of standing on it with their 
feet and so easily pulling it apart. It makes 
me nervous to see them “muggle” an under¬ 
taking so obvious. Now, in truth, the race of 
hens have always found their green food fast 
at one end, and so it has not become an in¬ 
stinct with them to stand on their food while 
pulling it apart with their bills, as is done by 
crows, hawks, eagles, owls, etc. 
What the race of hens has not learned to do 
by instinct apparently individual hens cannot 
learn. How long, do you suppose, would it 
take the race of hens to learn to stand on their 
food while eating it, provided all the food fed 
to the hens was in a form that made standing 
on it necessary? Judging by the intelligence 
of hens and by the tenacity with which they 
cling to acquired instincts, neither you nor I 
would be here when they had acquired this 
new instinct. 
This is a true case of instinct, distinct from 
habit or reason. Julian Burroughs. 
Another White Robin. 
Cambridge, Mass, Jan. 2.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: I am an interested reader of Forest 
and Stream, especially in all natural history 
articles. In regard to the issue of Dec. 4 last, 
I read with interest the article “Autumn 
Robins,” by Will W. Christman, on the white 
robin he saw. Last year, in April, I was in 
Bedford, Mass., staying at a friend’s house. 
I take an interest in all birds, and so does 
Mrs. Simonds, my friend. I went out with her 
daughters, about my age, to look for birds. I 
saw a whitish bird in a tree and the girls said 
it was a white robin. They ran back to the 
house and brought out Mrs. Simonds to see 
the bird. She pronounced it a white robin. 
It exactly answers the description given by 
Will Christman and that of Mrs. McCaul, of 
Dec. 25. Later William Brewster of Cam¬ 
bridge, came out to Bedford to see the bird. 
He also pronounced it a white robin. In the 
Agassiz Museum in Cambridge, there are three 
or four specimens of white robin. Mr. Brew¬ 
ster has written many books on bird life. 
I am only eleven years old, but-an interested 
reader of Forest and Stream. My father won 
the $25 prize last year with his story, “A Still 
Hunter’s Memories.” 
Wainwright Merrill. 
Our Cover Picture. 
Seattle, Wash., Dec. 27. —Editor Forest and 
Stream: I am sending you a photograph taken 
at East Sound last summer. It is of “Betsy,” 
the Irish setter, of whom I wrote you last year, 
telling of her being a “reporter.” The fawn was 
one that the boys caught while they were work¬ 
ing on the new road to the summit of Mount 
Constitution on Oreas Island, near which East 
Sound is situated. Betsy had no milk at the 
time, as her last pups were two years old, but 
she would allow the fawn to suck at will. 
H. M. Gow. 
Habits of the Hedgehog. 
The hedgehog, that butt of juvenile rustic 
horseplay, is the possessor of tastes which, like 
Sam Weller’s knowledge of London, are “ex¬ 
tensive and peculiar.” Scorning fastidiousness, 
it can make a hearty meal of nearly any insect, 
and is one of the few vertebrates which can 
tackle the repulsive cockroach. For effectual 
extermination of beetles and crickets it is as 
useful as a mongoose among the rats, but it is 
not generally known that it has a partiality 
toward snakes and adders. The methods it em¬ 
ploys for the attack are interesting. Having 
come upon the adder it goads that reptile to 
the offensive and at the first dart immediately 
rolls into a ball. The adder is then left to attack 
the spines, in which encounter it naturally comes 
off second best. After a while, when the 
hedgehog feels that his antagonist has ex¬ 
hausted his power, it once more opens out and 
makes a bite at the adder’s back, thereby break¬ 
ing its spine. It then proceeds to crush the 
whole of the reptile’s body by means of its 
powerful jaws, and after that it is said to start 
at the tail and devour its prey. 
Of eggs the hedgehog is also very fond, 
thereby giving just cause to keepers and farm¬ 
ers to destroy it on sight. Cases have been 
known where hedgehogs actually forced the hen 
pheasant off her nest and then proceeded to 
demolish the contents. There is. a tradition 
among country people to the effect that the 
hedgehog will suck the milk from cows, which 
certainly shows strong aversion to the hedge¬ 
hog, but eminent naturalists scout the idea, 
their explanation being that it is the heat of the 
cow whjch attracts the hedgehog, the cow’s 
dislike being no doubt caused by unpleasant 
contact with the prickly spines. Hedgehogs 
are invulnerable to most of their enemies except 
man, although the wily fox has been known to 
get the better of them occasionally.—The 
Scotsman. 
A Dangerous Weapon. 
Two Irishmen were out hunting, with one 
gun between them. The man with the gun saw 
a bird on a twig and took careful aim at it. 
“For the love of heaven, Mike!” shouted the 
other hunter, “don’t shoot! The gun ain’t 
loaded.” 
“I’ve got to!” yelled Mike. “The bird won’t 
wait!”—Saturday Evening Post. 
The Forest and Stream may he obtained from 
any newsdealer on order. Ask your dealer to 
supply you regularly. 
