April it, 1908.] 
FOREST AND STREAM- 
575 
Pictures of Game Birds and Waterfowl 
There is now on exhibition at Room 901, 
Mohawk Building, corner Fifth avenue and 21st 
street, New York, a remarkable collection of 
paintings and water color drawings of American 
game birds and waterfowl. 
These are the work of Mr. Geo. E. Lodge, of 
London, who for many months has been in this 
country studying our game birds and waterfowl, 
and who now exhibits the results of these studies 
in this very striking collection. Mr. Lodge is an 
artist, but he is also a keen sportsman and 
naturalist, and this combination gives an especial 
value and interest to his work. 
These pictures are remarkable for their art 
and their truth. Faithful in their portrayal of 
the birds and the situations which the birds fre¬ 
quent they appeal to the emotions through memory 
and imagination. Yet the mere representation of 
scenes and the dwellers among those scenes 
might well enough fail to arouse enthusiasm in 
the man untrained in art. Something more than 
mere representation is needed, and in these pic¬ 
tures that something is found in the extraordi¬ 
nary vitality which they possess. This does not 
mean that the birds are always shown in action. 
Often they are not; yet the most quiescent of 
them all—as for example the mallard sitting in 
the snow, the snipe under the bog, or the hawk 
huddled on its perch—is instinct with life. 
The subjects of these forty pictures are all 
birds and chiefly waterfowl. Most of them rep¬ 
resent American species and have been painted 
in this country, though three of the most strik¬ 
ing—a grouse moor with birds in flight, a flock 
of European widgeons taking wing to avoid an 
eagle, and a flock of mallards keeping to the 
water to escape an approaching duck hawk—- 
were painted in England, we believe. There is a 
group of Bobwhites, a pair of ruffed grouse at 
the drumming time, some portraits of northern 
hawks, and above all the wildfowl. 
Pictures so truly representative of winter 
scenes on Southern marshes have never before 
been seen in New York. Whether it be the 
group of swans resting on the ice during a 
freeze, or the wild geese in flight, or the group 
of mallards and black ducks feeding at the edge 
of a reedy pond, or the’ little flock of pintails 
at rest on the bank, the sportsman or naturalist, 
who has had the opportunity to observe, and has 
used those opportunities, cannot fail to acknowl¬ 
edge their absolute truth. But if this fidelity is 
striking, not less so is the appeal to the imagina¬ 
tion found in many of the pictures. There is 
mystery in the hazy dimness of the cold winter 
morning when the air is full of frost crystals 
and the reeds are lightly coated with white, and 
in the long lines of the distant flocks of birds 
half seen through the smoky air which suggest 
rather than portray the movements of the morn¬ 
ing flight. How full of feeling is the lone swan 
flying ^gainst a gray misty sky behind which the 
sun is shining, a picture that is thrilling in its 
dreary loneliness! 
Mr. Lodge shows in his paintings the sugges¬ 
tiveness and simplicity of expression employed 
by the Japanese. If certain details are often 
more carefully worked out than by them, yet 
what could more express the Japanese influence 
than the pictures of the goshawk, black duck and 
mallard, or geese over Currituck Sound? In 
the latter, one is reminded of that greatest of all 
Japanese impressionists, Sesshu, by the long line 
of flying birds, which in its simplicity so sug¬ 
gests multitudinous numbers and rapid flight. 
Mr. Lodge combines very happily composition 
and the poetic beauty of light and atmosphere 
with great strength of perception of the life and 
habits of the birds he paints. There is no un¬ 
certainty in these pictures; there is no search¬ 
ing for a means of expression by the mere put¬ 
ting together of lines. Mr. Lodge feels his sub 
jects, and expresses what he feels in a big and 
convincing way. His pictures are not mere rep¬ 
resentations ; they are beautiful paintings of liv¬ 
ing things. 
Wild Turkeys for California. 
San Francisco, Cal., March 28 —Editor Forest 
and, Stream: Most of the geese have already' 
moved northward and the snipe season will close 
on March 31. From that time on until July 15, 
when deer and doves come in, the hunters will 
have to content themselves with trapshooting. 
On March 14, fifty-six Hungarian grouse, 
which had been imported direct from Hungary, 
were liberated in the San Bernardino Moun¬ 
tains. This was all that were left out of the 
original shipment of eighty. San Bernardino 
county has also received a consignment of 300 
wild turkeys from Mexico. These arrived in 
good shape and it is believed that they will be 
able to take care of themselves. 
Advices from Mendocino county state that 
some fatal disease has appeared among the deer 
in that region. Lee Riggs, of Ukiah, reports 
having found eight carcasses on his ranch with¬ 
in the last few weeks. 
The Juego Land and Water Company, a new 
hunting club, has been incorporated at Santa 
Ana, Cal., and has secured forty acres of hunt¬ 
ing land in that vicinity. A. P. B. 
Chickadee Notes. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
On thawy mornings we invited the chickadees 
to breakfast with us. The window was raised 
and cracked nuts and meat crumbs were placed 
on the inside sill. In the birds came, one at a 
time, of course, for chickadee etiquette forbids 
that two should eat together from the same dish 
or pick at the same bone. With what a cheerful 
“Day-day-day” the first caller saluted us! The 
chickadees did not immediately eat the food on 
these occasions, but assisted by nuthatches, car¬ 
ried it out and hid it in the rough bark of the 
dooryard elm or in crevices about the veranda. 
The chickadee’s notes are usually happy, often 
liquid and thawy, in spite of “winter and rough 
weather.” Their plaintive, tender phee-be whistle 
is the only exception. Most observers place this . 
note in their spring records. I listen for it on 
the bright winter days that frequently precede, 
a deep snowfall. If the day is a weather breeder 
the birds know it. On the coldest morning this / 
season I heard them whistling mournfully in the 
orchard. “Knee-de-ep, knee-de-ep,” they seemed 
to say. It was melancholy and prophetic. 
Will W. Christman. 
The Forest and Stream may be obtained from 
any newsdealer on order. Ask your dealer to 
supply you regularly: 
A Long Chase. 
Boston, Mass., March 20. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: Following close on the heels of a big 
gray fox, running for five days and nights, cov¬ 
ering a distance of probably 200 miles through 
the woods and along the sandy shores of Cape 
Cod, only to have the fox escape by wearing him 
out, is the record of a hound four years old, one 
of three valuable dogs that a party of hunters 
recently took with them to hunt foxes in the 
woods at Wellfleet. 
The dog chased the fox, or perhaps several 
foxes—for it may have switched off from one 
to another in its travels—and did not show up 
after starting the fox. After waiting for hours 
for the dog to return the hunters went back to 
the village expecting the dog would give up the 
chase. Night came on and they became alarmed, 
fearing the dog had been lost. 
A local gunner who accompanied the fox 
hunters into the woods, said he would find the 
dog and ship him home the next day. Inquiries 
were made through the villages, but no one had 
seen the dog and it appeared as if he must have 
been drowned in crossing the swamps on the 
thin ice. At the end of five days a dog was seen 
following a big gray fox through the village of 
East Wareham. The man who saw the fox as it 
limped through his backyard rushed into the 
house for his gun. As he came out he saw a 
hound limping along and vainly trying to bark; 
the fox had disappeared and the dog, which 
could hardly stand, dropped in its tracks nearly 
dead from exhaustion. The man gave the dog 
food and drink in small quantities and in a few 
days it seemed to be all right. On the collar was 
the name of the owner, to whom the man wrote, 
and in a few days he came after it. It was then 
learned that the dog started the fox in Wellfleet 
and for five days and nights had been chasing. 
He had been seen chasing the fox at Ellisville, 
on the shores of Cape Cod bay, and near White 
Island in the cranberry district, he had crossed 
the harbors and rivers and had given up when 
nearly dead in East Wareham. 60 miles from 
where the hunt was started'. It was said, “The 
dog was a mere skeleton and the fox seemed as 
if he had been running for a month.” 
There are instances on Cape Cod where dogs 
have followed foxes for days at a time, but none 
of the old gunners remember any such perform¬ 
ance as this one. Cape. 
An Ohio Quail Hunt. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
For several years quail have been scarce in 
the Miami Valley, yet each year the number of 
hunters increases, and no wonder, for where can 
be found a cleaner, nobler sport than hunting, 
whether the game be great or small? I envy 
not .the soul of the man who cannot enjoy a day 
afield with dog and gun. among the brown 
Stubble fields or leaf-carpeted forests. 
One bright morning late in November, 
Charlie and I, with our two dogs, set out for 
a try at the Bobwhites. I knew where 
a covey had been staying in a dense 
thicket about a mile from town, but we 
could -not find them. We covered another mile 
of territory, but not one quail could we find. 
Finally the old dog came to a stand in a large 
clover field. Charlie went up, raised the birds 
and killed one. The other one flew to the far 
