Forest and Stream 
Terms, $3 a Year. 10 Cts. a Copy. 
Six Months, $ 1 . 50 . 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, JULY 17, 1909. 
j VOL. LXXIII,—No. 3. 
I No. 127 Franklin St., New York. 
A WEEKLY JOURNAL. 
Copyright, 1909, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. 
George Bird Grinnell, President, 
Charles B. Reynolds, Secretary, 
Louis Dean Speir, Treasurer, 
127 Franklin Street, New York. 
THE OBJECT OF THIS JOURNAL 
ill be to studiously promote a healthful interest 
outdoor recreation, and to cultivate a refined 
•Iste for natural objects. 
—Forest and Stream, Aug. 14, 1S73. 
STREAM POLLUTION. 
To freely use the light of the sun, the pure 
a of heaven and the uncontaminated waters 
tit flow from the earth is supposed to be the 
Dthright of American citizens, present and 
iDspective. Yet the man, woman or child who 
i‘S in thickly clustered communities receives 
) little of the first two, while citizens all over 
1 land have to take their chances of getting 
tr of the third. Those who go without light 
u. air do so of their own free will, but it is 
n so with the water. 
lS a result of increasing population the 
t arns are more and more used as sewers and 
rpghs to carry away refuse, and with two re¬ 
ps; one that the native life of the waters is 
msurably destroyed, the other that the health 
Those who drink the water from these streams 
ipdangered. The matter is one of develop- 
nt and increased population. In England, 
bnce and other old world countries it long ago 
s^med importance, with the result that steps 
t e taken to dispose in some other way of 
ejage, waste from factories and other refuse 
eetofore turned into streams. This, while 
mg at first for the expenditure of consider- 
b capital, in the end is cheaper, for it saves 
rlife in the waters and protects the health 
f;he dwellers along the streams. In France 
He exists a league, whose work is educational, 
> ombat the pollution of rivers. 
:arcely any subject demands more study 
i; this by the Commission for the Conserva- 
o of National Resources. Present methods 
■(causing more and more deaths and have de- 
ryed or driven away the fish and other life 
xi many streams, thus destroying profitable 
Castries and depriving the public of a cheap 
i'wholesome food that they formerly enjoyed. 
I". Arnold E. Ortmann recently read before 
(American Philosophical Society an important 
Tr on the destruction of life in the fresh 
a r streams of Western Pennsylvania, point- 
gout that it is not generally realized how far 
elife in these streams has been injured by 
development of industries there. The fresh 
or fauna constitutes a part of the country’s 
Tral resources. Fishes, turtles, mussels and 
lr fresh water animals have an economic 
E and since all creatures found in the fresh 
a ' r are mutually dependent upon each other, 
the causes which lead to the destruction of any 
of them should be removed. Of these causes 
the most serious are direct destruction by man, 
pollution of the streams, and the so-called im¬ 
provement of the rivers—the building of dams, 
preventing the ascent of fish, or the taking away 
of the water for various purposes. The most 
important cause of destruction is the pollution 
of the water. In the region specifically referred 
to, coal mining and the oil industry contribute 
chiefly to the destruction of the animals inhabit¬ 
ing the fresh water. 
The matter is one of supreme importance and 
must be considered by all classes of citizens. In 
some localities it is merely a nuisance; in others 
an economic injury; in others an actual menace 
to life. Sooner or later the country must reckon 
with and provide for it. The work of studying 
the subject and learning how to remedy the 
danger should not be too long postponed. 
MID-SUMMER SIGNS. 
It seems as though we had but just ceased 
to grumble about the late spring with its ex¬ 
cessive rains and lack of sun, and now mid¬ 
summer is upon us and signals of approaching 
autumn are in view. 
The hay fields, but yesterday thick standing 
and green, now shorn, lie brown under the 
torrid sun. Where then a deer or an elk might 
have lain hidden, now a robin can be seen a 
hundred yards away. Over much of the land 
the tall yellow grain which bent and billowed 
before the summer breezes has fallen and is 
being hauled to the thresher. The streamers 
of the well grown corn rustle with a creaking 
sound as the wind' steals over the weed-clean 
field and stirs the pale green leaves. 
The birds hatched in spring and early sum¬ 
mer are abroad taking their first lessons of life. 
Robins and chippies and gong sparrows and 
other familiar friends have more than doubled 
in numbers; the crows are more noisy than ever 
and from each company of the black rascals 
encountered is heard the call for food of the 
ever hungry young. In swamp or woodland the 
mother grouse practices her successful arts to 
lure away from her tender brood man or dog 
that unexpectedly approaches them; while in 
the open lots the quail—more simple but not 
less earnest—show equal anxiety about their tiny 
young. 
The deep dark green of mature frondage has 
overspread woodland and swamp, and the leafy 
curtain hides all beyond. Where in winter one 
could see for fifty yards through gray stems 
and branches, now the vision is limited to arm’s 
length. 
So the season has marched along. Yet now 
appear signs more tangible and more sure. 
Swallows are roosting on the telegraph wires, 
sure evidence of approaching departure for the 
South. Blackbirds are gathering in flocks and 
resorting to the wet meadows where wild rice 
and other plants will soon mature their seeds. 
The crowns of the chestnut trees are whitened 
with feathery blooms, forerunners of the brist¬ 
ling burrs, which with the coming of the first 
sharp frosts, will send down showers of glossy 
nuts for the behoof of squirrels and partridges 
and happy children. 
Ever since the end of last winter all things 
have been growing. Now comes the season of 
ripening, to end in maturity, to be followed by 
the season of rest, and so the annual cycle 
repeats itself. 
The blossoming of the chestnut tree gives us 
sure warning that autumn is near. 
After Mr. Shiras’ “Silver-Tip Surprises” was 
in type, there appeared in a monthly maga¬ 
zine of large circulation a story entitled “Flash¬ 
lighting Grizzlies,” in which the author de¬ 
scribes his experiences in photographing grizzly 
bears in the timber, and illustrates the story 
by flashlight pictures. The coincidence of the 
appearance of this story at this time is inter¬ 
esting, for although the precise locality where 
his bears were photographed is not directly 
stated, it was evidently in the Yellowstone 
Park and adjacent, to the hotels, and it is clear 
also that the bears photographed were for the 
most part on the way to the hotel garbage piles. 
It thus brings up the precise question on which 
Mr. Shiras has expressed his views. The pic¬ 
tures and the accounts of the actions of the 
bears are interesting. The methodical way in 
which they pass up and down the trails from 
the higher lands to their feeding grounds be¬ 
hind the hotels shows their semi-domestication, 
which gives the photographer every opportunity 
to take interesting pictures. 
R 
Although the severe drouth which has pre¬ 
vailed for several weeks in the Middle Atlantic 
States has been favorable to the hatching and 
rearing season of game birds, trout streams are 
again in grave danger of drying up. In the 
South there has been much rain; in the middle 
West the rivers are out of their banks and 
threaten to rise above the high marks of 1844 
and 1903; in the Southwest there have been 
many severe storms. Truly there is a vast 
stretch of out-of-doors in the United States, 
subject to the various moods of Nature. 
K 
Our cover picture this week depicts a silver- 
tip grizzly bear in his native haunts. While it 
has no connection with Mr. Shiras’ story, it 
might well serve as a study of the grizzly which, 
after its painful encounter with the flashlight, 
was engaged in trying to puzzle out in its own 
way what it was that actually happened. 
