799 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 19, 1906. 

thereto by the company’s dogs and _ servants. 
Nearly all of them were shot on the north side 
of the lower Peace River. 
At that time the Indians of Forts McMurray 
and Smith always secured a number in autumn 
and winter. Having seen the skins of numerous 
prairie buffalo many years ago, and those of sev- 
eral of the woodland variety, I think the only 
marked difference I noticed was that the outer 
hair of the latter is darker in color, and the inner 
is of a finer, thicker and probably warmer texture 
than that of the former, while it is doubtful if 
the average “dressed beef” of either animal of the 
same age would materially differ in weight. 
In the winter of 1871-72 an Indian shot an 
albino example of the bison some thirty-five miles 
northwest of Fort McMurray. This skin was 
throughout of a faint yellowish-white color. I 
have been repeatedly assured bv Indians that the 
female very rarely has more than one calf at a 
birth. They have also said that in winters of 
deep snow wolves succeed in destroying some 
animals. They themselves have too often been 
guilty of unnecessary slaughter of bison under 
similar conditions, especially in former years. 
In the month of March, 1879. a small band of 
Chipewyan Jndians discovered traces of a herd, 
consisting of twenty animals of various ages, near 
the Birch Mountain, and the snow beine deep, 
they did not suffer even one to escape. None of 
the flesh, however, was wasted; all of it was 
consumed by the party. The company never ex- 
ported any Woodland bison skins for sale in Lon- 
don or Canada. Mr. P. Deschambeault remem- 
bers seeing in the early fifties of the last cen- 
tury two fine albino examples of the prairie buf- 
falo in possession of Chief Factors John Rowand 
and James G. Stewart, both of which had been 
secured on the plains of the upper Saskatchewan 
River. 
Penguins of the Antarctic. 
PROBABLY on the earth’s surface there is no 
more desolate and forbidding region than Vic- 
toria Land in the Antarctic. It is absolutely with- 
out vegetation, save a little occasional moss—a 
rocky, barren, snow and ice-strewn waste. Yet, 
here the penguin (Pygoscelis adelig) may be said 
to have made its home. 
Until recent years not much was known about 
this bird, but now thanks to hardy explorers we 
possess a pretty full knowledge of it. In length 
it averages twenty-nine inches, while its flippers 
or rudimentary wings are about eight and a half 
inches. In color, generally it is black above and 
snow white beneath, with a black band around 
its throat. But its most noticeable feature is its 
jet black eyes set in a white circle, which give it 
a certain sinister look. Its plumage is of the tex- 
ture of scales almost and so close-set as to afford 
no opening for the cold. Close set indeed it must 
be to resist the barbs of the Antarctic wind. 
So unfamiliar are penguins with man that Mr. 
Louis Bernacchi, of the Southern Cross expedi- 
tion, states that when he set out to examine a 
row of them sitting solemnly on the ice (this 
being their normal attitude) they appeared to be 
filled with as much curiosity as he and started 
to meet him half way. When they met the birds 
showed not the least sign of fear but walked 
around the explorer, examining him at all points 
and then, apparently satisfied, waddled back to 
their position on the ice. 
Before the Antarctic winter sets in the penguins 
migrate from Cape Adan, which appears to be 
their favorite haunt. They do not, however, go 
north of the circle, and the wonder is that they 
go as far as they do, seeing they have no wings 
to carry them. We may be sure that only the 
sternest necessity dictates migration in their case. 
About the end of October (it will be remembered, 
of course, that the Antartic winter corresponds 
with our summer) the migrants begin to return, 
at first in small groups, or files, but as the days 
advance their numbers grow to the proportions 
of an invading army. On they come, waddling 
over the ice, erect and soldier-like, but in places 
where the snow is thick they will fall upon their 
breasts and use their feet and flippers to propel 
them along. 
When Cape Adan is reached the wanderers 
scatter themselves over its rugged declivities in 
their tens of thousands and proceed at once to 
nest-building. This, it need hardly be stated, is a 
very simple operation, consisting merely of 
scratching a hole in the old guano and surround- 
ing 1t with pebbles. These latter, by the way, 
are a considerable source of trouble, for the birds 
love to steal from one another. A fight between 
the nest-building females is described as an ex- 
tremely comical affair, but when two jealous 
males set to, the business becomes serious and is 
suggestive (by reason of the action of the flip- 
pers) of nothing so much as a first-class “mill.” 
At length the eggs (two to each pair) are laid 
and the females take to incubating. Extraordi- 
nary to relate, during this process, or for a period 
of thirty-one days, absolutely no food is taken, 
but snow is frequently consumed: The first 
young appear during the second week in Decem- 
ber. They are quaint, dark, fluffy little crea- 
tures, but very greedy and grow rapidly. They' 
are fed exclusively on fish, or crustaceans, the 
only food precurable in the Antarctic. Is it not 
wonderful to think, in this connection, of the 
‘sagacity of the male in being able after returning 
from a fishing expedition, to identify his own 
seasons the limitless tundra, bathed in the soft 
sunshine of polar night and swept by the balmy 
breath of the south wind, blossoms into life and 
becomes an exquisite garden of wild flowers 
whose roots draw sustenance from a shallow sub- 
soil resting on everlasting ice. High up on the 
mountainside, half buried in deep green moss and 
shadowed by giant conifers, bleach the bones of 
sea monsters whose wandering spirits must cry 
out against such -strange surroundings. Active 
volcanoes are encompassed by broad _ glaciers 
which terminate in sandy wastes, where bloom 
and ripen the fragrant wild strawberry. These 
constitute but some of the strange features of 
this far away land, whose woods and waters offer 
untold attractions to naturalist and sportsman. 
Although they have been much studied, the 
bears of North America are still comparatively 
little known, Alaska gives us the polar bear, sev- 
eral brown bears, a black and more than one form 
of grizzly, but some years ago Dr. W. H. Dall, of 
the Smithsonian Institution, described—from 
skins seen in the hands of dealers—another bear, 
which of all North American forms is perhaps 
the least known. This is that commonly known 
as the glacier or blue bear (Ursus emmonsi Dall). 

GLACIER BAY. 
family amid such a colony? An idea of the size 
of the colony may be formed when it is stated, 
on the best authority, that the din created by it 
is like the roar of a vast multitude of people. 
By the middle of January nearly all the young 
birds have outgrown their downy coats and been 
seduced to the water’s edge and taught how to 
swim. For three or four months following they 
haunt every bay and head land, usually sitting 
idly with an expression of profound sadness. 
Can we wonder they are sad, seeing they are 
doomed to live amid such scenes? By all ac- 
counts the Antarctic in its crude horror of deso- 
lation simply beggars description. 
FRANK Moonan. 
The Blue Bear. 
STRANGE and mysterious has always been our 
subarctic province Alaska, whose secrets are only 
now beginning to be penetrated. A few short 
years ago, the hardy prospector with his ever 
faithful pick and pan following up the water 
courses in search of colors, or the frontiersman 
fleeing before the encroachments of civilization 
who had built his modest cabin by some quiet 
pool were the only ones who knew anything of it. 
Now, many traveled routes exist through this 
half-million square miles of wilderness, railroads 
have penetrated it and its secrets are being laid 
bare. 
In no other corner of the universe are grouped 
together so many contradictory natural wonders. 
Under the Arctic circle, during the short summer 
A complete specimen exists in the American Mu- 
seum of Natural History of New York city, and 
one in the National Museum at Washington. 
From these, from field notes collected, from per- 
sonal experience and from the testimony of native 
hunters, is drawn the following account: 
In size this bear is smaller than the black (U. 
americanus) as found in Alaska, averaging in 
length from tip of nose to tail about five feet, 
and never, to my knowledge, exceeding six feet 
and a half. The head is narrow rather than wide 
and is fairly long, and in facial lines resembles 
most nearly the black bear. The eyes are small, 
as are the teeth. The claws shade from a darker 
brown at the root to a translucent yellow at the 
point, and are strong and well curved, showing 
the animal’s ability to climb. The fore claws are 
somewhat longer and more delicately shaped than 
those of the hind foot. But it is in its pelage that 
this species is most remarkable with widely 
marked individual variation. In full season, the 
hair is of good length, either silvery white 
throughout, or at least the distal half is of this 
color, while the basal portion may shade through 
a bluish-white to a slaty black. The fine fur be- 
neath the coat of hair is often of a rich chestnut 
throughout. The back, from head to rump, the 
short ears, and the front portion of the feet and 
legs show. darker; in individual specimens, shad- 
ing from a bluish-white to a slaty bluish black, 
but the one very remarkable and ever present 
characteristic is a bright chestnut or rufous shade 
extending over the lower portion of the face and 
the cheeks. The muzzle is black. An average 
