March 18, ign.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
411 
were steep and so numerous that it was almost 
impossible to cover much country. The entire 
country was of red volcanic rock formation, 
covered with a scanty growth of vegetation con¬ 
sisting of sparse grass and a large number of 
ironwood and palo verde trees. In the North 
these would have been classe.d as bushes rather 
than trees, but they served as food for the 
sheep and also afforded a certain amount of 
cover for the game. Throughout the sheep 
country also, there were a large number of 
bisnagas, the well known barrel cactus, which 
grows like a small, very thin keg, being as large 
around as a telegraph pole and from one to 
five feet high. The outside is covered with a 
network of long and very sharp spines, looking 
and feeling very much like surgeon’s needles. 
The inside is a hard green pulp and is often 
eaten by the sheep for the sake of the moisture 
in contains. On Valdez we found a number of 
places where the bisnaga had been almost eaten 
up. Captain Funcke said that this had been 
done by the rams, which smash the bisnaga 
with their horns and then eat out the inside. 
Later on we had this confirmed by finding the 
spines of the bisnaga buried in the cracks of 
the horns of the large rams. 
After examining two or three bisnagas which 
had been eaten by sheep, we started across the 
mesa and went down into one of the gulches, 
and were traversing a narrow ribbon of sand 
which lay at the bottom, when just as Eleno 
was about to step over a stick, he started and 
jumped back, saying something in Spanish. I 
knew at once that it must be a snake, and 
looked over the stick at the sand but saw 
nothing. Eleno pointed again, and I then saw 
a large rattlesnake, lying asleep in the sand, 
where I had been looking. He looked so much 
like the sand that I had not seen him even 
when I looked right at him, and if I had been 
in front 1 would certainly have stepped on that 
snake. Eleno tapped my rifle barrel and said, 
“Boom, boom,” with a note of inquiry in his 
voice. “No boom, boom,” I replied; “borego 
vamose.” So Eleno cut a long ironwood stick, 
sharpened one end to a fine point, and then 
poising it exactly over the center of the rattle¬ 
snake’s head, drove it down and pinned the 
snake to the ground. The reptile immeditely 
sounded its rattle with full force, but it was too 
late, and in a minute or two it ceased. I cut 
the rattles and put them in my pocket, and we 
continued down the canon. 
This was certainly a disturbing experience, as 
THE RED TANAKA. 
Eleno had come within an ace of stepping on 
the snake. Before that I had had confidence 
that if I looked for a snake I would not step 
on one, but after seeing the way that rattler 
matched the sand, I felt no certainty about 
anything. About a mile beyond we climbed up 
out of the gulch and at once saw half a dozen 
mountain sheep feeding on the mesa a quarter 
of a mile away. We examined them carefully 
with the glass, but they proved to be ewes. 
Eleno was very anxious to have me kill one 
of them for meat, as we had no fresh meat in 
camp, but I refused, as it seemed to me that 
the killing of a ewe of a species so rare as 
the mountain sheep was inexcusable. Eleno 
could see no sense in this whatever, and as he 
later explained to Louis, who translated it to 
me, ewe meat was just as good as ram meat, 
and that was all there was to it. I think 
throughout the rest of the trip he regarded me 
as a mild and harmless lunatic. However, as 
I would not shoot a ewe, there was no help for 
it and Eleno was forced to do without his fresh 
meat for the time being. We sat down under 
a small palo verde tree to get in the shade, 
ate lunch and drank most of the water in the 
canteens which we carried. Presently the sheep 
caught sight of us and trotted off across the 
mesa, which took them straight away from our 
camp, and after they disappeared we struck 
across the top of Valdez Mountain, climbed 
down to the desert below and got into camp 
about four o’clock. J. G. M. and Captain 
Funcke were already in, having seen nothing 
during their hunt. We had supper and turned 
in soon after six o’clock. 
About eight o’clock, being unable to sleep, I 
was lying on my back watching the stars, when 
I heard the tinkle of a bell coming from the 
desert, and soon after Captain Funcke’s other 
outfit came in. It consisted of two sportsmen, 
a cook called Mr. Dunne and Eleno’s brother 
Jose. They had been out for six weeks and had 
secured five rams, though none of them was 
very large and two of them were so small that 
they should not have been shot. They had also 
killed two or three ewes. One of their rams 
was a very small one and had been killed only 
a couple of days before, so that they gave us 
some fresh meat. They also took letters out 
for us, which we were very glad to have a 
chance to send. Under the circumstances, 
therefore, I do not feel that I have a right to 
give their names, though I have very little 
respect for so-called sportsmen who will shoot 
ewes. They were going the next morning, and 
Eleno and I got breakfast and left camp by 
seven o’clock, long before they were prepared 
to start. 
Perhaps a Pileafed Woodpecker. 
Roanoke, Va., March 8 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: I notice in Forest and Stream for 
March 4 a note on the ivory-billed woodpecker, 
taken from the Sun and quoting Graham Burn¬ 
ham, who says in part: “It is the largest type 
of the woodpecker species in the world, etc., 
and is now found only in eastern Oklahoma 
and remote portions of Florida.” His descrip¬ 
tion tallies exactly with what I have always 
known in years past as Indian hen, woodcock, 
squaw hen. He is mistaken when he says it is 
only found in Oklahoma and Florida. I live 
about twelve miles west of the Blue Ridge 
Mountains in Roanoke county, Virginia, and 
have always lived in the county. Have seen 
lots of these birds in my past life. On my 
home place in my boyhood days and up to 
fifteen or eighteen years ago, I believe I have 
averaged seeing one or two, two or three times 
a week. Since then the timber has nearly all 
been cut around my home, and of course the 
Indian hen has disappeared from that section. 
Since then, hunting the mountains from four to 
ten miles west of my home for pheasants and 
turkeys, I have several times heard and seen 
them and believe they are quite as plentiful as 
ever. I killed one or two long ago, but would 
not think of doing so now, but am sure I could 
get one, although they are the shyest of all the 
woodpecker family. 
Mr. Burnham’s description fits the squaw hen, 
or woodcock, correctly, but I never knew the 
name was ivory-billed woodpecker until quite 
recently. 
Last fall, while hunting the mountains west of 
my home, I saw one of the squaw hens, but as 
usual, it was a long way off; it was flying at 
the time and its red-crested head showed 
brilliant in the morning sun. If it would be of 
interest to you, I will very gladly drop you a 
