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THE CARIBOO.

AMERICAN GAME

IN ITS SEASONS.

BY

HENRY: WILLIAM HERBERT,

AUTHOR OF “FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD sports,” *Fisit AND FISUING,” “ WARWICK
WOODLANDS,” “MY SILOOTING BOX,” “THE DEER-STALKERS,” ETO, ETO,

“ILLUSTRATED FROM NATURE,

AND ON WOOD, BY THE AUTIICR.

NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET.
1853.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by
CHARLES SCRIBNER,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern Dis-
¥ trict of New York. ‘

Stereutyped and Priuted by
Cc. W. BENEDICT,
201 William Street, N. Y.

TO

Gatien Staley, Exy.,

OF PHILADELPHIA,

IN TOKEN OF REGARD AND ESTEEM,

THIS LITTLE VOLUME

Is RESPECTFULLY DEDIOATED,
BY AIS

FELLOW-COUNTRYMAN, FELLOW-SPORTSMAN, AND FRIEND,

HENRY WM. HERBERY,

Tue Crpars, January 10, 1858.

ILLUSTRATIONS

FAOING PAGB

FRONTISPIECE, = - = os = 1
THE MOOSE, 2° a S = : 45
WILD GOOSE, nr a - = - 58
MALLARD AND WIDGEON, = - rai
SNIPE, - = 89
BASS, = - - = = - 119
“AMERICAN TROUT, - = = 129
BRANT, - ce = = a 141
BAY SNIPE, 7 - = - = 187
SALMON, - = = S = <I 169
SS

‘WOODCOCK, = i = = 5 187

SUMMER DUOK, - = 203

vi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FAOING PAGE

COMMON DEER; - - i 221
BLUE-WINGED TEAL, - fs = 237
QUAIL, - ? - cs 258
BITTERN, - - 2 - = 266
RUFFED GROUSE, - i is Te ct 285

YELLOW PERCH,

1
1
'
1

800

CANVAS-BACK,

1
1
i}

i 819

WINTER DUCK, - - 832

ADVERTISEMENT.

Tus volume, which is now for the first time submitted
to the public in a connected form, is composed for the
most part of papers which have appeared from time to
time in the pages of Graham’s excellent magazine, under
the running title of “The Game of the Month.” It does
not profess to contain complete accounts of every species
of game, found or pursued within the wide limits of the
United States of America—that must be looked for in
works of wider scope and larger pretensions, whether by
the author or others.*

All that it aims at doing is to set some of the princi-
pal and most highly esteemed varieties before the gene-

ral reader, in a light and attractive style, with some

* IT may here mention, “ Hawker on Shooting,” American Edition, by
William T. Porter; “ Frank Forester’s Field Sports,” aud “ Fish and
Fishing,” by Henry William Herbert ; and “ Hints to Sportsmen,” by
E. L. Lewis; all of which works have found favor with the public, and
are admitted standards.

vill ADVERTISEMENT.

account of their specific distinctions and characteristics
in a zoological point of view; of their habits, haunts,
and migrations; and of their season in different parts
of the vast demesnes owned by the American people ;
not what is esteemed the most sportsmanlike and scien-
tific mode of pursuing, killing, and when killed, cooking:
them for the table.

The leading idea of the plan was to adopt for each
month in the year the finest, and most generally, favor-
ite species of game, with reference principally, as regards
season, to the Northern, Midland, and Northwestern
portions of the United States and Canada, though the
animals described are common more or less to all sections
of the country.

The somewhat rambling and irregular plan of the
series renders any apology for this or that species of
game wholly unnecessary, since, in the first place, it
never was intended to constitute a perfect natural history
of all the game, birds, beasts, and fishes of America,
but merely a series of sketchy papers; and in the
second, because the series is yet in progress, and when-
ever it may appear desirable, or be called for by public
favor, another volume or volumes may be from time to
time presented.

ADVERTISEMENT. ix

| The illustrations are all designed and drawn on wood
from nature, by the author, with two exceptions, “ the
Bittern,” and “the Yellow Perch,” which were copied
from correct representations, owing to the impossibility
of procuring specimens at the moment when they were
required. It is believed that they will be found correct
as zoological representations ; while the beautiful and
elaborate work of Messrs. Brightly and Devereux’s
gravers cannot fail to obtain the admiration it merits.

I have only to acknowledge my obligations to the
officers of the Lyceum of Natural History, in Philadel-
phia, and to Mr. Bell, the celebrated Taxidermist in New
York, for the facilities they have kindly afforded me in
obtaining specimens for this and former works; and to
submit my little work to the consideration of my friends
of the sporting world, and the larger circle of the read-
ing public.

r Henry Wm. Herpert.

January 10, 1853.

CONTENTS.

GAME IN WS SEASONS.

PAGE.
JANUARY.
Tue Carrpoo or AmERICAN RemnpEgr. Cervus Tarandus. - 17
FEBRUARY.
Tue Moosr Derr. Cervus Alces. - - < 45
Tun Witp Gooss. Anas Canadensis. - ee 58
MARCH.

Tue MaLLARD AND Wipcron. Anas Boschas. Anas Americana. "1

; APRIL.
Tue Amertcan Swiee. Scolopax Wilsonit. - - -~ - 89
Srrivep Bass. Labrax Lineatus.- - - 2 = * 119
MAY.

129

Tar Amertcan Trout. Salmo Fontinalis.

Tue Brent Goosz. Anas Bernicla. - - - + - 141

xii CONTENTS.

JUNE.
Bay Syirz. Hupsoniay Gopwit. Limosa Hudsonica. Tut Rep-
BREASTED Snipe, Scolopax Noveboracensis. - 157
Tue Satwon. Salmo Salar. - + - - 169
JULY.
Tue Woopcock. Scolopax Minor, sive Microptera Americana. 187
®
AUGUST.

Tur Summer Duck. Anas Sponsa sive Dendronessa. 203
Tue Common Deer. Cervus Virginianus. - - - 221
SEPTEMBER.

Tue Buvs-Wincep Tzst. Tue Green-Wincep Tray. Anas
Dicors. Anas Carolinensis. - - - 7 - 237
OCTOBER.

Tue Quaw. Ortyx Virgintonus.- - - - =~ - 258
Tue Birrerx. <Ardea Lentiginosa. - - - - 266
NOVEMBER.

Tue Rurrep Grouse. Tetrao Umbellu. - - -~ - 285

Tue Yettow Percy. Perca flavescens- + -= - = 300

CONTENTS.
DECEMBER.
Tur Canvas-Back. Anus Valisneria. -

Tue Winter Ducs. Fuligula Bimaculata

xiil

JANUARY.

Che Caribos.

THE AMERICAN REINDEER,

Cervus Turandus,

ARCTIC REGIONS—NEWFOUNDLAND TO NEW YORK.

THE CARIBOO.

AMERICAN REINDEER.— Cervus Tarandus.

Hasrrar; from Newfoundland, through all the British
provinces and possessions so far north as the artic seas,
to the northern part of the State of New York. The
Cariboo is not found south of the St. Lawrence, farther
west that the Black river, nor on the great lakes west-
ward of the Ottawa.

It is said that there exists several varieties of this
splendid stag in the extreme northern regions, though
they have not been defined even by the recent bold and
scientific explorers of those inhospitable climes.

I have, however, recently satisfied myself that there
are, if not in Canada, at least in Newfoundland, two dis-
tinct varieties of Cariboo, one vastly superior in size to
the other, and characteristically separated from the
smaller, by the form and structure of its horns. Of this
I am satisfied, by the examination of a pair of antlers,
lately exported from that curious and interesting island,
by my friend, Dr. Hugh Caldwell, which differs entirely
from those in my own possession, which furnished the
models for my frontispiece, and from many specimens

18 AMERICAN GAME.

in the office of the “Spirit of the Times,” all brought
from the same island, by the late Mr. Henry Palmer, of
New Brunswick.

The general characteristics of this huge deer, inferior
only in size to the Moose deer, Cervus Alus, of the same
regions, and to the Wapiti, Round Horn, or American
Elk, Cervus Canadensis, of the far west, differing and dis-
tinguishing it from all other animals of the same species,
are first: The peculiar structure of its horns, combining
the properties of the palmated and furcated structures.
Second, The length and looseness of its pelage, and the’
shortness of its tail, which rather resembles the scut of a
hare, than the long flag of a deer; and thirdly, The ex-
treme cleft of its hoofs and feet, extending up the pas-
terns, nearly to the fetlock joint. A structure to which
this animal owes its great facility in traversing the
treacherous snow drifts, is the unparalleled spread of its
hoofs and pasterns, the whole length of which rests on the
surface over which it bounds, when in full action, up to
the fetlock, supporting it where small-footed animals of
inferior size and weight would sink up to the belly at
every stride, and where man himself labors even with
the mechanical aid of snow-shoes.

In speaking of the color of the Reindeer below, as the
most grizzly and lightest colored of itstribe, I am not cer-
tain that I have not fallen into the error of assigning the
characteristic coloring of one, the Newfoundland var iety,
and possibly the winter coloring of that, as general

~

THE CARIBOO. 19

among the race. Mr. Wallop speaks of their “ dark-
brown hides,” and some Canadian sportsmen have ob-
jected to my description ; still I prefer letting what I
have written stand, since I wrote from actual inspection
of Newfoundland Cariboo skins ; and until I have seen
others of darker hue, must hold in absence of other proof
what I have seen to be true.

If the Cariboo of the other British provinces, and the
North-eastern States of America, differ in color from
those of Newfoundland, my too general statement may
perhaps tend to elicit farther information, by which the
numbers and distinctions of the several varieties may be
definitively attained. .

It is not a little extraordinary, that this magnificent
and noble species, which exists in considerable numbers
within two hundred miles of the spot where I sit writing,
in the Adirondack Highlands—I mean of New York—
which abounds in the north-eastern part of Maine,
swarms in New Brunswick and Newfoundland, and in-
deed everywhere North of the St. Lawrence and Ottawa,
to the extremest Arctic Regions yet penetrated by the
foot of man, should be yet less known to American
writers—even on the topic of Natural History—than
most animals of Central Asia, or the inhospitable wilds of
Southern Africa. It is not even determined—so little care
has been taken in examining or identifying specimens
whether it is one and the same, or a different species
from the Reindeer of the Europe-Asiatic continent; nor

20 AMERICAN GAME.

have any of its peculiarities been noted down, such as
the common indications of its stature, antlers, pelage,
and color, much less its anatomical and osseous structure,
so as to permit of any accurate comparison being drawn,
or decision arrived at. :

In proof of the loose way in which these self-styled
descriptions of rare animals are drawn, in books of
solemn pretension and supposed authority, I shall pro-
ceed to quote the following from the Encyclopedia
Americana—a work of which I can only say, that it is
equally profuse of needless information on subjects trite
to every Sophomore, and sparing of facts, such as require
research and are required by men of ordinary reading,
who will search its pages vainly for what on occasion
they may need to ask it. .

“ Reindeer”—says the authority. “These animals in-
habit the Arctic Islands of Spitzbergen, and the northern
extremity of the Old Continent, never having extended,
according to Ouvier, to the southward of the Baltic.
They have been long domesticated, and their appearance
and habits are well described by naturalists. The Amer-
ican Reindeer, or Cariboo, are much less generally
known; they have, however, so strong a resemblance to
the Lapland deer, that they have always been considered
to be the same species, though the fact has never been
completely established. The American Indians have
never profited by the docility of this animal, to aid them
in transporting their families and property, though they

THE CARIBOO. 21

annually destroy great numbers for their flesh and hides.
There appear to be several varieties of this useful quad-
ruped peculiar to the high northern regions of the Amer-
ican Continent, which are ably described by Dr. Richard-
son, one of the companions of Captain Franklin, in his
arduous attempt to reach the North Pole by land. The
closeness of the hair of the Cariboo, and the lightness of
its skin, when dressed, render it the most appropriate
article for winter clothing in the-high latitudes. The
hoofs of the Reindeer are very large, and spread greatly,
and thus enable it to cross the yielding snows without
sinking.”

And this—without one word of its height, weight,
color, or habitat—is the only information which the
Editor of the American Encyclopedia thinks proper to
give his readers—except a brief description of Dr. Rich-
ardson, about whom he seems to know a little, if he
knew nothing about Cariboo—concerning an animal,
which is killed almost annually within ‘fifty miles of
Albany, sold annually in Montreal, and in New Bruns-
wick and Nova Scotia almost as common an article as
venison, or Moose-meat during winter in the markets.

Would not any one suppose, on reading the above,
that he was dealing with the description of an animal,
which roamed only wastes untrodden by the foot of the
white man, save the adventurous explorers of the Arctic
Circles, and concerning which no information can be
gained by the ordinary naturalists of this country?

22 2 AMERICAN GAME.

Cuvier and Richardson, and Audubon’s stupendous
work are not attainable by general readers, or even
ordinary writers of cities; to those of the country they
are utterly inaccessible—but to Encyclopadists, and to
men who sit down to reproduce great works on Natural
History, who choose to consult them, they are perfectly
and easily open; and there is no shadow of excuse for
those who profess to teach others, yet refuse to learn
themselves.

Had the writer of the above worthless trash thought fit
to compare Dr. Richardson’s description of the Cariboo,
which it seems he had read—and which, like all that
singularly able naturalist’s descriptions, is doubtless as
minute as correct—with Cnvier’s description of the
Reindeer, he might have pronounced as easily as he
could whether two and two makes four or five, whether
the American and Europe-Asiatic deer are identical or
different. Godman, in his “Quadrupeds of North
America,” though a little more definite than Dr. Leiber,
is scarce less bold and brief. Dr. Dekay, whose la-
mented life has recently been brought to an untimely
close, though he suspected it to be a denizen of
New York, was not fully assured of the fact, and there-
fore has not, I think, described it in his Fauna of that
State. ‘

I have myself, unfortunately, no immediate access to
either Richardson or Cuvier; nor even to any well estab-
lished work on the Animals of Northern Europe. But

THE CARIBOO. 23

I have seen a large herd, in my youth, of ‘the Lapland
Reindeer, which, with their Esquimaux attendants, were
exhibited many years ago in London; previous to a
futile attempt at naturalizing them in the Highlands
and Western Isles of Scotland; and have a fair general
remembrance of the animal. I possess antlers of the
Cariboo, which hang in my hall, and which are accu-
rately portrayed in the wood-cut; I have handled
twenty times the hides of this great deer; and I have
daily opportunities—in the office of my friend, W. T.
Porter, of the Spirit of the Times—to examine the pre-
served heads and legs of even finer specimens than my
own. I have also letters, private, and writings pub-
lished, of a New Brunswicker,-who has killed the Cari-
boo fifty times, and had opportunities of seeing the
European Reindeer, at the Zoological Gardens in London,
long since myself. I can, therefore, form avery fair con-
jecture at the identity or non-identity of the species. At
least, I can give some particulars of structure, stature, and
pelage of the American Cariboo, which will enable oth-
ers to judge, who are better posted.up than I, in the pecu-
liarities of the Lapland Reindeer. And first—I will pre-
mise that although I have never seen the Cariboo in
life, or in his native woods—which I trust to do before
the snows of the next March shall have melted—the
wood-cut illustration of this number is so closely made
up from measurements of the various parts, heads, ant-
lers, legs and hides of the animal, that I believe it to be

24 AMERICAN GAME.

as nearly correct as any likeness can be, which is not
taken from an especial individual of the race.
“In the first place—as to the stature of the Cariboo, I
was long ago struck by the statements of the New
Brunswick writer, ‘“ Mzapows,” alias Mr. Barton Wal-
lop, alluded to above, which may be found in Porter’s
edition of Hawker’s Field Sports, p. 326-333—“ The
Cariboo of this country are very like the Reindeer, only
a little larger”—and again—“ As this is the first time
you have seen a Cariboo trail, you will observe it is
much like that of an ox, save that the cleft is much
more open, and the pastern of the animal being very
long and flexible, comes down the whole length on the
snow, and gives the animal additional support.”
Arguing on this statement, in my “Field Sports,”
knowing Mrapows to have seen both animals, that they
must be distinct, I pointed out that no one could dream
of comparing a Lapland Reindeer’s track to that of an
ox, any more than to that of an elephant; and observed
farther, that the Lapland Reindeer is not a larger, but,
to my recollection, a smaller animal than the common
American Red-deer, Cervus Virginianus of Naturalists.
This coming casually under Mr. Wallop’s‘eye, he wrote
to me, in full confirmation of my opinion, that he had
recently seen Lapland Reindeer in the Regent’s Park
Zoological Gardens, and wished to amend his former
dictum, by saying, that the Cariboo is at least one-third
taller than the Lapland deer, and otherwise larger, and

THE CARIBOO. 25

in other respects very different. Also that the Lapland
animal is not taller than the British stag, or the Ameri-
can Common Deer, or, if at all, very slightly so.

Now, to come to my own observation, verified by
measurement. The Cariboo antlers in my own possess-
ion, not an unusually large pair, measure as follows :

Extreme width from tip to tip, one foot four anda
half inches. Length of curvature of antlers, from root
to tip, two feet three and a half inches. Direct height,
twenty-three inches. Breadth of the palmated brow
antlers, eight inches. Length of do., eleven inches.
Breadth of upper palm, eight inches. Length of do.,
twelve inches. Girth at the root of antler, five and a
half inches. At insertion of upper prong, four inches.
Number of prongs at the tips, unequal—three and two.
At the upper palms, three. On the lower palms, seven
processes, including the principal point.

Compare with this, the measurements of the antlers
of a very fine specimen of fhe common American deer,
Cervus Virginianus.

Extreme width from tip to tip, cleveninches. Length
of curvature along the back of antlers from root to tip,
two feet andhalf an inch. Direct height, fifteen inches.

Observe, however, that the greater curvature in the
horns of the American deer, while it causes a larger
comparative measurement, leaves a vast excess in height
and show to the Cariboo.

In the Cariboo, moreover—see cut—the structure of

2

i

26 AMERICAN GAME.

the horns is directly the reverse of that of any other
palmated-horned animal I ever remember to have seen ;
as the Moose, the English Fallow-deer, and to the best
of my recollection the Europe-Asiatic Reindeer. In
both the former of these animals, the broad palms form
the extreme upper tips; while the lower spurs and brow
antlers are round prongs; and, to the best of my mem-
ory, the Reindeer has no very conspicuous palms at all.

In our common deer, again, contrary to any other
deer I have ever seen—except a very noble nondescript
specimen recently sent from Calcutta to the Spirit of
the Times—the main branch of the antlers curves for-
ward over the brow, offering the main defenses, the true
brow antlers being mere erect prongs; while all the
tines are posterior to the main branch.

In the American Elk, and in the British Stag, or Red-
deer, and in all other round-horned deer I ever saw, the
main antlers rise erectly, with a slight backward curve,
the brow antler and all the other tines springing from
it anteriorly, and forming the true weapons for the ani-
mal’s defense.

The Cariboo, therefore, presents a curious combination
of the round-horned and palmated-horned deer, in the
first instance ; and of the usual, and Anjierican, round-
horn structure, in the second. First, it has the round,
pointed tips and sharp, round prongs of the round-horned
deer above, with the flat, leaflike blades of the pal-
mated-horned deer below. And, secondly, it has the

THE CARIBOO. 27

forward curve at the tips and backward prongs, above,
of the American round-horn, with the terrible brow
antlers and forward tines of the usual structure below.

Lastly, it differs from all in this—that its brow antlers,
instead of dividing with an outward curve over and
without each eye, close with a straight inward inclina-
tion, until the tips almost meet, nearly in the centre of
a brow.

Once more, as to size, there are the leg, with hoof,
pastern and cannon-bone of an ordinary sized Cariboo;
and the leg, with hoof, pastern and cannon-bone of an
extraordinarily large-sized American deer, and as such
selected, hanging side by side in Mr. Vorter’s office.
The limb of the Cariboo is considerably more than one-
third superior in size to that of the common deer, and is
fully equal to that of a yearling heifer of the very larg-
est stature, and from its peculiar structure, being cleft
nearly the full length of the pastern to the fetlock-joint,
would evidently leave a much larger track.

I have seen and ridden aged thorough-bred horses of
fourteen and a half hands—four feet ten inches high—
whose limbs were in all respects inferior to that of this
superb specimen of the deer tribe; and right confident
am I, from observation of several of their heads, their
hides and hoofs, that from fourteen and a half to fifteen
hands will be found to be the average height of the
Cariboo. Ifthe Lapland Reindeer ever exceeds thirteen
it will be surprising to me. While on this topic, how-

28 AMERICAN GAME.

ever, I will beg the first Canadian or Nova Scotian
hunter whose eye this may meet, to furnish me with the
full statements of height, weight and measurement of
any Cariboo he may be so fortunate as to kill, or to have.
killed, during the present winter. Readers of Graham
will find in the February number of the year 1852, a
correct and spirited representation of the antlers of the
English Red-deer ; and, if they will look forward to the
months of February and August of this volume, they
will find those of the Moose and American Deer, de-
signed by myself from the life, which will far more
easily convey the comparison which I desire to draw,
than written words.

As regards the nature of the pelage, or fur, for it is
almost such, of the Cariboo, so far from its being, as the
wiseacre of the Encyclopedia states, remarkable for
closeness and compactness, it is by all odds the loosest
and longest haired of any deer I ever saw; being, par-
ticularly about the head and neck,so shaggy as to ap-
pear almost maned.

In color, it is the most grizzly of deer, and though
comparatively dark brown on the back, the hide is gen-
erally speaking, light, almost dun-colored, and on the
head and neck fulvous, or tawny gray, largely mixed
with white hairs.

The fiesh is said to be delicious; and the leather made
by the Indians from its skin, by their peculiar process,
is of unsurpassed excellence for leggins, moccasons or

TUE CARIBOO. 29

the like; especially for the moccason to be used under
snow-shoes.

As to its habits, while the Lapland ox Siberian Rein-
deer is the tamest and most docile of its genus, the
American Cariboo is the fiercest, fleetest, wildest, shy-
est and most untameable. So much so, that they are
rarely pursued by white hunters, or shot by them, ex-
cept through casual good fortune; Indians alone having
the patience and instinctive craft, which enables them
to crawl on them.unseen, unsmelt—for the nose of the
Cariboo can detect the smallest taint upon the air of
anything human at least two miles up wind of him—and
uususpected. If he takes alarm and start off on the run
no one dreams of pursuing. As well pursue the wind,
of which no man knoweth whence it cometh or whither
it gocth. Snow-shoes against him alone avail little, for
propped up on the broad, natural snow-shoes of his long,
elastic pasterns and wide cleft clacking hoofs, he shoots
over the crust of the deepest drifts, unbroken; in which
the lordly moose would soon flounder, shoulder deep, if
hard pressed, and the graceful deer would fall despair-
ing, and bleat in vain for mercey—but he, the ship of the
winter wilderness, outspeeds the wind among his native
pines and tamaracks—even as the desert ship, the drom-
edary, outtrots the red simoon on the terrible Zahara—
and once started, may be seen no more by human eyes,
nor run down by fleetest feet of man, no, not if they
pursue him from their nightly-casual camps, unwearied,

30 AMERICAN GAME.

following his trail by the day, by the week, by the
month, till a fresh snow effaces his tracks, and leaves the
hunter at the last, as he was at the first of the chase ;
less only the fatigue, the disappointment and the folly.
Therefore, by woodsmen, whether white or red skinned,
he is followed only on those rare occasions when snows of
unusual depth are crusted over to the very point at
which they will not quite support this fleet and power-
ful stag. Then the toil is too great even for his vast
endurance, and he can be run down by the speed of men,
inured to the sport, and to the hardships of the wilder-
ness, but by them only. Indians by hundreds in the
provinces, and many loggers and hunters in the Eastern
States, can take and keep his trail in suitable weather—
the best time is.the latter end of February or the begin-
ning of March ; the best weather is when a light, fresh
snow of some three or four inches has fallen on the top
of deep drifts and a solid crust; the fresh snow giving
the means of following the trail; the firm crust yielding
a support to the broad snow-shoes and enabling the
stalkers to trail with silence and celerity combined.
Then they crawl onward, breathless and voiceless, up
wind always, following the foot prints of the wandering,
pasturing, wantoning deer; judging by signs, unmistak-
able to the veteran.’ hunter, undistinguishable to the.
novice, of the distance or proximity of their game, until
they steal upon the herd: unsuspected, and either finish
the day with a sure shot and a triumphant whoop; or

THE CARIBOO. 31

discover that the game has taken alarm and started on
the jump, and so give it up in despair.

One man perhaps in a thousand can still-hunt, or
stalk, Cariboo in the summer season. He, when he has
discovered a herd feeding up wind, at a leisure pace
and clearly unalarmed, stations a comrad in close am-
bush, well down wind and to leeward of their upward
track, and then himself, after closely observing their
mood, motions and line of course, strikes off in a wide
circle well to leeward, until he has got a mile or two
ahead of the herd, when very slowly and guardedly, ob-
serving the profoundest silence, he cuts across their
direction, and gives them his wind, as it is technically
termed, dead ahead. This is the crisis of the affair; if
he give the wind too strongly, or too rashly, if he make
the slightest noise or motion, they scatter in an instant,
and away. Ifhe give it slightly, gradually, and casu-
ally as it were, not fancying themselves pursued, but
merely approached, they merely turn away from the re-
mote danger, and instead of flying, feed. away from it,
working their way down wind to the deadly ambush, of
which their keenest scent cannot, under such circum-
stances, inform them. If he succeed in this inch by
inch he crawls after them, never pressing them, or draw-
ing in upon them, but preserving the same distance still,
still giving them the same wind as at the first, so that he-
creates no panic or confusion, until at length, when close
upon the hidden peril, his sudden whoop sends them

32 AMERICAN GAME.

headlong down the deceitful breeze upon the treacher-
ous rifle.

Of all wood-craft, none is so difficult, none requires so
rare a combination as this, of quickness of sight, wariness
of tread, very instinct of the craft, and perfection of
judgment. When resorted to, and performed to the ad-
mniration even of woddmen, it does not succeed once in a
hundred times—therefore not by one man in a thousand
is it ever resorted to at all, and by him, rather in the
wantonness of wood-craft, and by way of boastful experi-
ment, than with any hope, much less expectation of suc-
cess. ay

For once, in my illustration, the trick has been played,
and the game wins—the whoop is pealing on the wind
beyond the dark, sheltering pines and hemlocks—the
herd is scattered to the four winds of heaven—but the
monarch of the wilderness, the prime bull of the herd,
bears down in his headlong terror full on the ambushed
rifle.

Lo! with how brave a bound he clears that prostrate
log. But the keen eye of the woodman is upon him;
another moment, and it shall glare along the deadly
rifle; the sharp, short crack shall awake the echoes of
the forest, and ere they shall have subsided into silence,
the pride of the woods shall have gasped out his last
sigh on the gory green-sward.

But this you will say is fancy—scarcely fact. Be it
so. What follows shall be fact, not fancy. For I shall

THE CARIBOO. 33

beg leave to quote a few pages from Porter’s Hawker by
that “ Meadows,” whom I have already mentioned—since
his is the best description of this noble sport extant ;
since to reproduce it, giving his thoughts in my own
altered words were worse than plagiary ; and since, if it
meet his eye, he will be rather pleased than hurt that I
have winged his words into a wider field, and to a larger
audience than he at first addressed them.

Iwill premise only, that “ Howard,” who figures as the
hero, is a New Brunswicker, in New Brunswick ; “Mea-
dows,” the narrator, an English tyro visiting his friend in
the province; Sabatisie, a Micmac Indian, henchman and
guide of Meadows; and Billy, last not least, Howard’s
pet bull-terrier. Scene, daybreak! they have issued
from the camp close to the hunting-ground where the
Cariboo are supposed to “won”—as Chaucer would have
written it—when lo! quoth Meadows—

“ After a hearty meal, every thing being ready, we
mounted our snow-shoes and marched. The first golden
rays were just struggling through the gray East, and
dispersing the thick mist which hung over our camp, as
I strode forth on my first Cariboo hunt, my heart leaping
in anxious anticipation, and my nerves strung by the
healthy atmosphere. We proceeded in silence, and had
ample time to observe the lonely grandeur of the sur-
rounding forest; the death-like stillness enlivened only
by the cheerful chirp of the active ground-squirrel, or
the loud boring of that most beautiful of woodpeckers,

34 AMERICAN GAME.

the Hid. We crossed Cariboo tracks at every step, but
still the Indian proceeded, his quick eye glancing at
every trail. After about an hour’s walk, we found our-
selves ascending a steep mountain. Here the Indian
came to a halt: in a low tone he told us that we were
now near the Cariboo ground, this being the warm side
of the hill, and good feeding ground; cautioning us to be
quiet, we again advanced, but had not gone far before
we came to a trail that the Indian said was only made
last. night. Sabatisie chose the outside track of the herd,
to take the wind—which, having followed about three
miles, brought us to where the Cariboo had rested during
the night. Tom placed his hand on the damp snow, and
remarked that the Cariboo had not been up much before
us, and could not be far off.

“Rifles were now examined, and fresh caps put on—
Billy secured by a cord to Howard’s belt. The tracks
from the resting-place of the Cariboo branched off in
every direction; and the Indian leaving us, took a cast
round, some distance, and having ascertained the direc-
tion the herd had taken, he returned, and we cautiously
followed him. I now perceived that at the bottom of
the tracks the snow was a deep blue, and quite soft; we
were therefore quite near the game. Sabatisie halted
and took off his snow-shoes that he might proceed with
less noise. Howard beckoned me to him, and in a low
whisper said—‘ Do exactly as you see me do—follow

THE CARIBOO. 35

close upon my track, and do not for your life make the
slightest noise—we are close on them!’

“Sabatisie and Howard now slung their snow-shoes
on their backs: to prevent the crackling of the crust,
the Indian with his fingers broke the snow before him,
and placing his foot in the hole he made, quietly ad-
vanced—Howard putting his in the track the Indian had
left, I mine in Howard’s. By this means we proceeded
without the slightest noise; and as our movements were
simultaneous, we should to a person in front appear as
one body. Our situation was anything but agreeable,
up to the waist in snow. The trail became every mo-
ment more fresh, and the eagle eye of our sagacious
guide pried far into the depths of the forest in front.
Suddenly he cast himself at full length on the snow, and
remained so long in that position that I innocently thrust
my head out of the line to see what was the matter; but
the Indian glared at me with anger and contempt, and
Howard’s sign recalled my senses. In front, the wood
being quite open, Sabatisie had seen the Cariboo, and
now made for a large pine to shelter his approach. His
movements, as he dragged himself along on his belly in
the snow, were snake-like; and we followed, endeavoring
as far as possible to imitate his very interesting contor-
tions. At last I caught sight of the game. They were
a large herd of 18 or 20—some rubbing the bark from
the branches—others performing their morning toilet,
licking their dark-brown, glossy jackets, and combing

36 AMERICAN GAME.

them with their noble antlers. All appeared uncon-
scious of the approach of their most deadly foes, save
one noble bull, the leader of the herd. He seemed sus-
picious—with head erect, eyes darting in every direction,
ears wagging to and fro, and nostril expanded, he snuffed
the breeze. Upon this splendid creature the Indian kept
his eye, never venturing to move, save when the head
of the Cariboo was turned away. “Inch by inch we ap-
proached the tree. Oh! the agony of suspense I suf-
fered in those few minutes!

“ At length we reached our shelter. No time was
lost. Howard signed to me to single out a Cariboo,
while he took the noble leader, which was about 100
yards distant—the Indian reserving his fire. We sta-
tioned ourselves each side of the tree, and our rifles
exploded almost at the same moment. Springing wp to
see the effect of my shot, I was pulled down by the
Indian; what was my astonishment to see the bull
Howard had fired at, stamping the snow and gazing
around, with fire and rage in his eye, in search of his
hidden enemy. As I looked at his formidable antlers,
his majestic height, and great strength—a thought of
our helpless situation crossed my mind. The Indian
now rested his gun quietly on the tree, and took a long,
steady aim—the cap alone exploded with a sharp crack!
Quick as lightning the bull discovered our ambush, and
with a loud snort made directly for us.

Defence or re-
treat against such a foe, in our situation, up to the waist

THE CARIBOO. 387

in snow, was almost impossible. In another bound the
antlers of the enraged beast would have been in my
side, when our gallant little dog dashed forward and
seized the bull by the muzzle. Sabatisie and Howard
were busily employed putting on their snow-shoes ; and
I endeavored to do the same, but with little success.
The dog had luckily checked the beast, but he was no
match for the enormous strength and wonderful activity
of his adversary. Tossing his head, the Cariboo beat
the poor little fellow on the snow and against the tree,
till I thought every bone was broken. Finding this of
no avail, the bull reared, and with his fore-legs dealt
such a shower of quick and powerful blows, that I ex-
pected to see the dog drop every minute. While the
Cariboo was in this position, the Indian approached him
behind and endeavored to hamstring him. But the eye
of the bull was too quick; wheeling like lightning, he
made a rush at Sabatisie which must have been serious,
but was avoided by his falling flat on his face, the Ca-
riboo passing over him and wounding his back. Mean-
while Howard had loaded, but his rifle having become
wet, he could not discharge it. The violent exertions of
the Cariboo had by this time broke the hold of the dog,
and the furious beast now turned to the prostrate Indian
—but before he could reach his prey, the dog was again
at his head, checking, but not stopping his mad career. .
Sabatisie on his knee received the shock, and at the
moment grasping the bull by the antlers, brought him

38 AMERICAN GAME.

down ; when Howard sprung forward and plunged his
knife to the hilt in the breast of the Cariboo. With a
last mighty effort, the noble creature dashed the Indian
in the air, and the next moment his own strong limbs
were quivering in death.

“From the commencement of this burst, I confess, I
was a little agitated—so much so, that I had not coolness
sufficient to tie on my snow-shoes, or load my rifle; but
let not any blame me until they themselves have had*
the pleasure of being placed in the same delicate situa-
tion, up to the waist in snow, and one of those emperors
of the deer tribe dancing round.in mad fary, threatening
instant annihilation. On examination, we found How-
ard’s ball had taken effect just behind the shoulder, and
would have caused death in a short time. -

“<Hillo! old boy, are you hurt? said Tom Howard,
seeing the Indian still on his back.

“<‘ Cariboo sartain bery strong, grunted the poor
fellow. His back was much lacerated. ‘Brother cut
some gum, and soon be well,’ said Sabatisie.

“Howard gathered some balsam formed by the sap
running from the bark of the fir-tree, and spreading it
on a piece of his handkerchief, formed a strong adhesive
plaster—staunching the blood, he placed it on the
wound.

“< And now, Meadows, what has become of your
game—think he is hit ?

“«Yes, by Jove, I'll bet my rifle to a pop-gun he is—

THE CARIBOO. 39

for see, Billy has settled down on his track, and is in
chase.

“*On with your snow-shoes, and away !—the track
with the blood will be plain as a van wagon—if you
come up with the Cariboo, do not fire unless you are
sure to kill. I must stop and see if the Indian is much
hurt, and swab out my rifle—but I will soon overtake

¢ you—away now!’

“So urged, I started off, and found large drops of
blood on the track the prime little dog had taken. As I
proceeded, I saw the strides of the Cariboo were shorter,
and he had been down several times. As I pressed on,
in great hopes of overtaking the game before Howard
came up, I observed the Cariboo had made for the valley,
and after a sharp walk of an hour, I came to the stream,
which was open. Here I lost the track, but saw the
marks of the dog down the stream—these I followed,
and soon heard the baying of the dog. As I proceeded,
the river was every moment more rapid. After a sharp
turn the stream was compressed between two huge cliffs,
and rushed down a water-gap, forming a cascade of nearly
one hundred feet. To the very verge of the fall the
river was open; but over the fall itself there was a thin
coating of transparent ice, which clung to the perpen-
dicular cliffs on each side of the narrow gap, forming a
gauze-like veil. The towering cliffs around were covered
with a frosting of ice; and from the stunted pines which
clung to the barren rock, hung myriads of fantastic

40 AMERICAN GAME.

icicles. At the foot of the fall, the blue water rushed
out, dashing the white foam many feet in the air; and
through the thick woods which overhung the cascade,
‘the sun cast his rays upon the gorgeous prospect, making
every object throw forth a thousand brilliant shades,
and the glittering ice which encircled the fall was so
transparent, that the blue water could be seen beneath
dashing furiously down, as if enraged at restraint. Not
ten feet from the verge of the fall, on a rock in the
centre of the river, stood the wounded Cariboo. The
water around him was fearfully rapid—one false step
would carry him under the ice, and down the fall. On
the bank stood the dog: my first care was to secure him,
as he appeared ready every. instant to make a spring
that must have been fatal. The Cariboo had chosen a
most admirable place of retreat; nothing living could
approach him with safety. On each side the perpen-
dicular cliffs towered many feet over his head—before
him the roaring torrent, and behind the ice-bound cata-
ract. After feasting my eyes on this wild and romantic
scene, I approached as near the fall as the rugged cliff
would permit. The Cariboo saw me, and with glaring
* eye-balls he shook his branching antlers in impotent
rage, presenting to my rifle his broad front, as in defi-
‘ance. I am not ashamed to say I was happy.when I
glanced at the rapid water and rugged cliff between me
and my devoted prey; for I have no doubt, had it been

in his power he would have soon shortened the distance :

THE CARIBOO. AL

between us—and after what I had so lately witnessed, I
had no very great desire (seeing I was not as yet a perfect
harlequin on snow-shoes,) to play the same game over
again with my friend on the rock. To put an end to his
wishes and my fears, I presented. My ball took effect
directly in his brain, and he quietly dropped into the
stream, leaving me master of the jeld. The next mo-
ment I could see, through the transparent ice, his glossy
hide gliding down the cascade.”

Amiable reader, thus it was that “Meadows” slew his
first Cariboo; and thus, pray for me, that I may kill
mine, or ere a year be flown. IfI do, believe me, I will
try to tell you how I did it, as well—better I may not
tell you—as Meadows. And so, until next month, fare

you well!

IL

FEBRUARY.

The Moose,

Cervus Alces,

NORTHERN WILDERNESS, BEYOND THE OTTAWA; NEW-
FOUNDLAND TO NEW YORK,

r ‘

Che Canadx Goose---CHily Goose,

Anas Canadensis,

NORTH AMERICA, ARCTIC REGIONS, MOUTHS OF THE
MISSISSIPPI.

THE MOOSE DEER. Cervus dlee.

THE MOOSE DEER.
erwus Alees.

Tus gigantic deer, the largest of all the deer tribe, and
which is distinguished from all others not only by the
magnificence of its dimensions, but by the fact that it is
the only one of the genus which is uncouth in its form,
ungraceful in its attitudes, and awkward and ungainly
in its action and. gait, is identical in every respect with
the Elk of Europe, no distinction being discernible on
the closest examination. It must, however, on no ac-
count be confounded with the great Wapiti Deer, or
American Elk, Cervus Canandensis, as it is in every
respect different and distinct. The Moose-deer, which
derives its name in the vernacular from its appellation
in the Algonquin tongue, mzsz, is entirely a Northern,
and more especially a North-Eastern animal, being most
abundant in the British Provinces of Nova Scotia and
New Brunswick, in Maine, the northern part of New
Hampshire, and the Adirondack Highlands of the state
of New York, beyond which to the westward it is never
found south of the St. Lawrence, nor I think is there any
reason to believe that its range has ever extended far to

46 AMERICAN GAME.

the west of this limit or southward to the Atlantic coast.
In Lower Canada, on both sides of the St. Lawrence
below Quebec, and on the north side so far as to Mon-
treal, it is exceedingly abundant, but to the westward of
that city it is rarely if ever found south of the great
Ottawa river. A single Moose was killed during the
summer of 1849 by an Ojibwa. Indian on the Severn
river, which debouches into the north side of the great
Georgian Bay of Lake Huron, the skull of which I saw
myself, and it was asserted by the Indians generally,
that none of the race had been killed within the last
fifty years, at nearly which distance of time it was a
traditional belief that one had been killed, a straggler,
in the same vicinity. To the northward of this they
roam as far toward the pole as the forest region extends,
the Moose being, as we shall see when we come to speak
of his structure and habits, as much adapted to the
forest, as is the American Elk, or Wapiti, Cervus Cana-
densis, to the prairie.

The original limits of these two great deer would seem
to have been originally almost identical as to their
frontiers, the one beginning exactly where the other
ceases to exist, and the one being as remarkably a
western as the other is an eastern animal. The Elk was
found originally from the western regions of Pennsyl-
vania, if not throughout all the inland portions of that
state, through all the intermediate states, a little way
back from the sea-board, of Virginia, Kentucky, and

THE MOOSE DEER. Aq

Tennessee, in all of which it has now ceased to exist, to
the great prairie states of the west and the foot of the
Rocky Mountains, in many of which it is still found
frequently, although it cannot be said to abound until
you pass the Mississippi and even go beyond the cross
timbers. Why this deer ever received the title of
Cervus Canadensis, it is difficult to state, as I find no
indication of its ever having existed in Canada, but I
fancy it has arisen from a mistaken application of the
French term Orignal, or Elk, to this animal, which is
beyond doubt really applicable to the Moose, that
animal being, in fact, as I have observed, the Elk of
Europe, and having the flat palmated horns of that
species, whereas the Wapiti has the round branching
antlers of the red deer of Europe, Cervus Elaphus, to
which animal it bears a very strong analogy, and except
in its vast superiority of size, closely resembles.

The Moose is the largest of all the deer tribe, an old
bull standing full eighteen hands high at the shoulder,
or six feet common measure, while the cows do not fall
short of fourteen or fifteen. The fore-legs of this deer
are very disproportionately long as compared to the
hind legs, and the shoulder stands so much higher than
the rump, that at a casual glance you would suppose the

-animal to be standing wp hill. His neck is so short and
cumbrous that he cannot graze on the ground without
much difficulty, straddling his fore-legs very wide apart,
and even then gathering his food from a plain surface

48 AMERICAN GAME.

with great difficulty and even pain; he is not, however,
a grazing animal by nature, though he may resort to it
at times, from whim or for the lack of other means of
subsistence, but essentially a browser, for which mode of
feeding he is particularly adapted, being in a lesser~
degree of the same structure with the cameleopard,
although the latter is loftier and far more exaggerated
in the height of his foreparts, owing to the immense
altitude of the trees—a species of mimosa—which afford
his favorite nourishment. Further than this, the huge,
flexible, prehensile upper lip of the Moose, which he
uses nearly as an elephant does his trunk, is of great
service to him in collecting the leaves and tender twigs
of the birch and alder, which, with the tips of some of
the evergreens, are his choice dainties. In the summer
season, when the woods are alive with Pharaoh’s plague
of flies and musquitoes, which seem to devote themselves
with particular assiduity to the tormenting this great
giant of the wilderness, he delights to resort to marshy
pools‘and lakelets, where he wades out till his head is
barely above the surface, and lies there wallowing
deliciously all day long in the pure cold waters, safe
from his winged persecutors, and browses in security on
the floating leaves and buds of the water-lilies-and on
the aquatic grasses which he crops as he swims or wades
about at his pleasure.

The horns, for antlers they cannot correctly be called,
of the male are an enormous and apparently useless

THE MOOSE DEER. 49

apparatus, for the bull Moose fights principally with his
huge, deeply-cloven hoofs, which he handles with great
dexterity, and with which he can inflict very heavy
blows. They often weigh from fifty-six to sixty pounds
the pair, and present a flat palmated surface, intersected
upwardly by irregular ribs or ridges, each terminating
in a short snag or rounded point, one of which is added
every year until they attain their full stature. The
weight of these is enormous, and accordingly when the
auimal runs, which he does at a heavy, awkward,
shambling trot, he thrusts his nose high into the air,
with his short, sturdy neck pointed upward, so that the
horns are rested in some degree upon the back, partly it
may be supposed for the purpose of support, and partly
to avoid entanglement among the branches and thick-set
stems of the cedar-swamps which they most frequent.
These horns they shed annually in the spring of the
year, and annually renew, the surface being covered
with a soft velvet-like fungus, while they are young and
tender, and gaining hardness and consistency till in the
rutting season, which o¢curs in the latter sammer and early
autumn, they are perfect in size and formidable as wea-
pons of offence. At this period the bulls may be heard
roaring and bellowing throughout the mountain gorges of
the ranges which they frequent, in the evening espe-
cially, and in the early gray of dawn, and when they hear
the lowing of the cows they come crashing through the

forests with fierce and amorous heat; and if two rival
3

50 AMERICAN GAME.

sultans meet in the presence of a single sultana, woe to
the weaker, for he must neéds go to the wall after a
desperate conflict, fought out, as if by the knights of
old, in the presence of the queen of love if not of beauty,
whose caresses are to be the reward of the victor.

Of this propensity foresters take advantage in the sea-
son, by imitating the call of the cow Moose, which is
easily done by blowing a peculiar note through a com-
mon cows-horn, the end of which is partially immersed
in water, or on a trumpet made of birch or alder bark
for this very purpose by the Indians, who are great
adepts at its use, and rarely fail to extract a reply from
the bulls, and ultimately to lure him up within a few
feet of the circle of hemlock or cedar-boughs among
which they await his coming full of amorous fury and
proud defiance, with the ready gun, which soon levels
his branched honors in the dust.

It not unfrequently happens that two bull Moose will
be attracted by the same call, will bellow their responses
to it through the echoing ravines and gorges, and will
finally tear down through the rent and crashing under-
wood, and meeting with a roar of defiance do battle at
outrance in the presence of the ambushed enemy, who
watches for his advantage at every instant of the fray,
and rarely fails to bring down both of the competitors
for an imaginary fair one, by a cowardly and ignoble
triumph. And a magnificent spectacle it must be to
witness, alone and unassisted in the depths of the pri-

THE MOOSE DEER. 51

meval forest, in the gray and silvery moonlight, or in the
purple dawn of autumnal morning, the fierce and noisy
jousting of two of these great forest champions.

There is another mode of pursuing these great deer
during the summer season, when they wade into the
deep waters to eschew the myriads of flies, which is
spoken of with rapture by those who have enjoyed it—
that is, to make the ‘wilderness your home, your hemlock-
bed and bark-roofed camp your dwelling-place, and with
canoe, and rod, and rifle, stealthily to paddle along the
winding water-courses, keeping as much as possible
within the shadows of the shore, and under the protec-
tion of the overhanging branches, when you can often

teal up within easy gun-shot and bring them down with
one well-directed bullet. The liberty, the independence,
the rapturous excitement of this sort of life is entirely
indescribable; the delight with which you sleep in the
free, fresh, odoriferous air of the forest, with your soft,
elastic hemlock-bed—sure preventive of all rheumatic
pains—beneath you, and the blue vault, with all its
diamond stars above you; the zest with which you
enjoy the meal of fresh trout from the river, or sweet
digestible wild meat from the woods, the fruits of your
own prowess; the health, the-strength, the energy of
mind and body which you earn by your rugged toil, and
rude though savory food; the perfect sense of hardihood
and self-reliance, which you derive from thus owing
every thing that ministers to your enjoyment, to your

52 AMERICAN GAME.

own skill and manhood; then, with the splendor of the
American autumn weather, and ‘the gorgeous woodland
scenes which you must penetrate, these alone would pay
you for your toils; cares there are none in the woods,
nor anxieties, nor ailings, nor sorrows—for these, with
the ringing of door-bells at unseasonable hours, and the
advent of matutinal duns, not to be satisfied save with
the uttermost farthing, these are the growth of cities,
and the tormenters of the civilized and cockney gentle-
man, unknown to the forest, and set at easy defiance by
its hardy, happy inhabitant. Oh! give to others who
will it, the luxuries of city life, the costly banquets, the
rich wines, the fascinations of women, the maddening
excitement of play, the “ venerem, et plumas, et coenam
Sardanapali,” but give me my hemlock shanty for my
palace, my hemlock-bed for my couch of down, my rifle
for my mistress, and my trusty Indian for my comrade
and my guide ; and, winter or summer, scorching sun or
deep-piled snow, the wilderness, give me the wilderness.
“The life in the woods for me.”

When winter sets in cold and stern, then it is not the
Moose’s paradise—rather it is his anti-paradise, and the
winter of his discontent made glorious summer to his
adversaries, who then hug hope to run him down by
their strength of wind and limb, and to conquer him by
open force and no unmanly fraud or base deceptions.

Well aware that he cannot travel safely or feed easily
and plentifully, when his goings to and fro are converted

THE MOOSE DEER. 53

into painful floundcrings through deep snow-drifts, or yet
more painful plungings and breakings through the sur-
face crusted with glassy ice, when the trees on which to
browse are few and far between, no sooner do the first
snows begin to fall tham the Moose resort to one of two
plans, each equally ingenious and equally adapted to the
nature of the ground for which they are intended. If a
bull intends wintering by himself, as sometimes occurs,
wherefore we know not; he seeks out some hill, and
crosses and recrosses it a hundred times from summit to
base, and from base to summit, and then girdles it with
a hundred of parallels, intersecting the perpendiculars,
all of slowly made and deeply trodden foot-paths,
trampled down and beaten again, after each fresh suc-
ceeding snow-fall, till the whole snowy hill is cut up and
checkered into a net-work of firm, hard-trotted paths,
along which he can travel at whatever pace he lists,
whether lazily lounge along to browse on the succulent
shoots, or pounding away at his hard swinging trot, with
his wide-spread hoofs crackling at every track, in tull
flight from his pursuers, at a rate of eight or nine miles
an hour, with the advantage still of feeding as he goes,
snatching a juicy morsel from every favorite bush as he
dashes along.

When the Moose adopts this mode of wintering, unless
the party of hunters is sufficiently strong to post a num-
ber of persons on different stands along the Moose-paths
to intercept him as he tracks their labyrinthine ways, it

54 AMERICAN GAME.

avails little or nothing to attempt him; for having many
miles of hard-trodden paths on which to run, while his
pursuers cannot follow them on account of their narrow-
ness, but must blunder along their sides on snow-shoes,
with little or no chance of tracking him, since the paths
are so hard as to receive no impress from his hoofs, he
will keep on running, a half-mile or so ahead of pursu-
ers, without hurrying himself beyond his need till he shall
worry out the strongest hunter, and so escape shot-free.

The more usual method, however, for them to winter,
is by yarding, as it is termed, or collecting into small
bands or droves of greater or smaller numbers, but con-
sisting in general of one old bull, two or three
younger males, three or four cows, and the calves of
several years accompanying their dams—for it is not
usual for the young to quit the cows until they are two
or three years old—and then forming yards, or large
spaces, well and regularly trampled down so as to be
sunk between walls of snow several feet in height, con-
taining within their area trees and shrubs enough to
afford ample pasture for the herd during the whole con-
tinuance of the cold weather, and from these they never
stir until the return of soft spring-time and the melting
of the snows.

It may be well here to state, that, in the opinion
of many of the best naturalists and foresters of
this country, the two habits, alluded to above, as path-
making and yarding, are in truth accidental matters, and

THE MOOSE DEER. 55

the fortuitous result of circumstances, rather than any
peculiarities of instinct or sagacity in the animals to
which they are ascribed.

These persons contend that the net-work of paths, after
the manner described above, intersecting and checkering
whole mountain-sides, are naturally produced by the rov-
ing perambulations of the great deer; and are not made
by him, with any design of future facilities in obtaining
forage, but simply in the course of present search for it.

Farther, they declare that the yards are not formed, or
even used, as'‘a temporary winter habitation, from which
the animals do not wander during the continuance of
cold weather; but attribute their occurrence merely to
the unavoidable stamping to and of a family, or a small
herd, of these noble cervines, over the snowy surface of
some spot which has casually attracted them by the
abundance of succulent food offered by its underwood ;
and that they quit such places, from time to time, in
their ordinary rambles; and entirely, for another and
better place, so soon as its supplies are exhausted. This,
I regard, the truer and more philosophic view.

These yards are carefully hunted out by the Canadian
Indians, and the tidings are brought into the garrison
towns, and received with a perfect burst of enthusiasm
by the officers of her majesty’s regiments quartered there,
and having little to relieve the monotony of winter, ex-
cept curling or tandem-driving, unless when a chance of
a Moose-hunt raises a gay alarum.

56 ' AMERICAN GAME,

Rifles are hunted up, and bullets run, snow-shoes are
buckled on, and the green-horns excite great sport for
the old stagers, by kicking their own shins, and tumbling
on their own noses at every second stride. Blankets, and
baskets of provision, not forgetting the ammunition, the
spirit-flasks, the tobacco-pipes, and the tea-kettle, are
packed upon the tobogins, or Indian sledges, made of
light wood, to be drawn by the red-hunters through the
open forests, and then away for the wild, broad, bound-
less snow-clad wilderness—the hard tramp by day, the
blazing camp-fire, the leafy bed, the fragrant pipe, and
the flowing bowl at night, and the sleep as sound and as
warm beside the roaring pyre, with an untented heaven
above, and a temperature 40 degrees. below you, as
though it were taken in a silken chamber, pillowed on
down and canopied with velvet.

And now the yard is reached, and one, or perhaps two
deliberate and murderous shots are fired, and then away
through the treacherous snow-drifts, away over the de-
ceitful ice-crusts flounder the huge beasts at their speed
in mortal terror. Away, hard on their traces, flying on
fleet snow-shoes, follow the impetuous and shouting
hunters.

Sometimes for days that headlong chase endures, the
weary beasts and worn-out men, lying up or encamping,
perhaps not a quarter of a mile asunder, when light fails
them and they can run no longer, and with the break of
dawn renewing the wild career for life or death, for de-

THE MOOSE DEER. 57

feat or ignominious glory. That is no sport for boys or
striplings, but hard work for strong, stout-hearted men.
But the science and the pluck of man prevails in the
end; one by one the beasts are overhauled, the heaviest
first and the weakest, a rifle-shot, and a shrill ‘who-
whoop” announces the fall of the forest king—a slash
of the keen knife steeps the snow with his life-blood, and
away, away, over the crackling crust, with the keen win-
ter’s wind warming itself against your face, and your
heart thrilling with a rapture unknown to the laggard
loungers of city sidewalks, unsuspected by the sordid
and selfish voluptuary.

Such, friends, is the winter Moose-hunt of the Cana-
dian wilderness. Try it, friends, once, and my life on it,
each succeeding winter will find you rifle in hand, and
snow-shoe on foot, in the interminable forest northward
of Quebec, stretching thence on unbroken to the Arctic
seas—for verily it is the king of American field-sports.

THE CANADA GOOSE.

Anas .Canadensis.

Tus is the bird known universally throughout this
continent, as the Wild-Goose, and yet, although that is
not in truth his correct apellation, we do not in this
instance very particularly demur to it; since it is by
very far the most important of all the species of this
genus, which visit our shores. The term Wild-Goose is
properly applied to the Gray Lag Goose of Europe, which
is beyond any doubt the stock whence is derived the
common domestic goose of our barn-yards, and which
precisely resembles the tame bird, with the exception
that the ganders do not become white among the wild
fowl; on this, however, no distinction of origin can be
supported; for it is well understood that one of the con-
sequences of domestication, is that in the process of gen-
erations it converts animals, which are unicolored in their
natural state, to piebalds, dapples, and various new
colors, in their artificial condition.

The true name of this bird is the Canada Goose; a
title which was given to it under the impression that its

“S[sLopVUND svuY “ASOOD VAVNVO AHL

THE CANADA GOOSE. 59

breeding-grounds lay in that country, and in the vicinity
of the Great Lakes. Since the period, however, when
those provinces have become more thickly settled, more
observation has been bestowed on the haunts, habits, and
migrations of birds; and it is now well ascertained that,
although a few stragglers may breed in various seques-
tered spots both in the States and in the Canadas, all the
main hordes proceed still northward beyond the utmost
habitations of man, beyond the limits of the Arctic Cir-
cle, perhaps beyond the Pole itself, there to nestle and
rear the young in the untrodden solitudes, where no
breath of humanity has ever polluted the pure air, amid
the brief but delicious summer of the polar regions,
where they rejoice—to quote the eloquent words of Mr.
Giraud, in his birds of Long Island—where they rejoice
in ‘the absence of that great destroyer, rain, while the
splendors of a perpetual dry May render such regions
the most suitable to their purpose.”

The Canada Goose, though rare, is not unknown in
Northern Europe, or even in England, -where it is very
frequently domesticated as an ornament on artificial
lakes, within the bounds of parks and pleasure-grounds.
In unusually severe winters, it is sometimes killed on the
sea-coasts and on the inland lakes of Scotland, and
the north-eastern parts of England, though not in such
numbers as to constitute it an object of regular pursuit.
Nor is its flesh there considered a luxury, whether that
from change of climate and diet, it really becomes rank

60 AMERICAN GAME.

and unpalatable, or that whim and fashion in this case
rule the roast.

Certain it is that, here, it is one of our best sea-shore
wild fowl, me judice the very best; for its flesh is succu-
lent and juicy, never rank or fishy, not even sedgy, and,
when hung long enough in frosty weather, as tender as
the tenderest, even in the old ganders, which many per-
sons consider an abomination.

The breeding-grounds of the Canada Goose, have never
as yet been, and probably never will be ascertained oth-
erwise than negatively, as they lie, doubtless, beyond the
reach of man’s all-daring footstep, there being no point
however northerly, to which the bold discoverers of the
highest latitudes have penetrated, at which the Goose
has not been observed still wending his way northward,
ever northward. “They were seen by Hearne,” says
Wilson, in his American Ornithology, “ within the Arc-
tic Circle, and were then pursuing their way still farther
north. Captain Phipps speaks of seeing Wild Geese
feeding at the water’s edge.on the dreary coast of Spitz-
bergen, in lat. 80° 27’. It is highly probable that they ex-
tend their migrations to the Pole itself, amid the silent
desolations of unknown countries, shut out since the crea-
tion to the prying eye of man by everlasting and insu-
perable barriers of ice.”

Throughout the United States and the British provinces
from the Straits of Bellisle and the Gut of Canso east-
ward, to the Osage river westward; the biennial migra-

THE CANADA GOOSE. 61

tions of the Canada Goose are well known to all ob-
servant inhabitants; and at the close of autumn and the
opening of the spring, their vast phalanxes are seen
wending southward and northward, with the regularity
of the seasons themselves, cleaving the snow-laden and
misty air with the circular sweep of their heavy pinions,
aud opposing to the currents of the atmosphere the
arrowy point of their wedge-like formations, while the
hoarse “honk” of the leading gander, answered again
from the rear of the battalia, calls the attention of us
groveling earthlings to their immeasurable march,
steadily sweeping onwards thousands of yards above our
pigmy heads.

Of their spring flight, as they return from the mouths
of the Mississippi, from the great unfrozen lakes and
bayous of the southwest to their far northern homes,
thus eloquently sung their own appropriate poet laureat,
the well-beloved and long-lamented sportsman bard,
known wheresoever the staunch dog is followed, and the
true trigger drawn, as J. Cypress, Jr.

“ They come, they tear the yielding air with pennon fierce and strong ;
On clouds they leap from deep to deep, the vaulted skies along ;
Heaven’s light horse, in a column of attack upon the pole.

Was ever seen on ocean green, or under the blue sky,

Such disciplined battalia as the cohort in your eye?

Around her ancient axis let old Terra proudly roll,

But the rushing flight that’s in your sight, is that shall wake your soul.

’

62 AMERICAN GAME.

“ Hawnk! honk ! and for’ard to the nor’ard, is the trumpet tone,

What Goose can lag, or feather flag, or break the goodly cone

Hawnk ! onward to the cool blue lakes where lie our safe love-bowers ;

No stop, no drop of ocean brine, near stool or hassock hoary,

Our traveling watchword is ‘ our mates, our goslings and our glory!”

Symsonia and Labrador for us are crowned with flowers,

And not a breast on wave shall rest, until that heaven is ours.
Hawnk! Hawnk ! E—e Hawnk !”

And this, but with the smallest tincture of poetical
extravagance and license, is a fair and correct picture of
their vernal northward march; for although they do in
truth pay us of the midland seaboards a short visit so
goon as our sea bays are clear of ice, and do occasionally
“ stop,” and at great peril to themselves, “drop by stool
or hassock hoary,” still their spring sojourn with us is
of short duration. Early in April they collect. them-
selves in vast flocks, soar skyward, and breaking into
wedge-shaped phalanxes, headed by the strongest gan-
ders, which are hourly relieved by their comrades, so
that each of the males in his turn takes his share of
“arduous toil of breasting foremost the resistance of the
atmosphere, and opening the path for his followers.

Little stint they of force, little stay make they, unless
for necessary food and rest by night, or when bewildered
by dense fogs and unable therefore to steer northward,
more truly than the needle to the pole, until they reach
the northern shores of Lake Huron and the waters of
the Great Georgian Bay, where they remain for some
time. longer or shorter, according to the state of the

THE CANADA GOOSE. 63

season, and the gradual disappearance of the ice, afford-
ing, meantime, sport and subsistence to the Indians, who
paddle stealthily upon them in their birch canoes, or
shoot them from bough-houses constructed on points
which command their favorite feeding grounds in the
rice lakes and flats around the mouths of the N orthern,
the Wye, the Severn, and their neighboring affluents.
Thence, so soon as the ice disappears, they are up and
away, and are no more seen by the eyes of man, except
as they sweep across the marshy plains about the dis-
persed and distant forts of the fur companies, until in
October, they recommence their earlier voyagings, now
journeying southward with recruited strength and aug-
mented numbers, for now each noisy gander and his
mate are accompanied by two full-grown and full-feath-
ered goslings, and tarrying scarcely for a moment on
the great lakes, or in the inland waters, until they reach
their favorite autumnal haunts in the great south bay of
Long Island, and all along the inlets and lagoons of the’
Jersey shore, Squam Beach, and Barnegat, and the two
Egg Harbors, where they disport themselves, and revel
in the sheltered waters, and grow fat on the broad, ten-
der leaves of the sea-cabbage, a common marine plant
which grows about the stones and shells on the sea-
beaches, and on the roots of the sedges, which they are
constantly seen in the act of tearing up, and occasionally
make excursions to the inlets on the beach for sand dnd
gravel, until these inland bays are frozen over solidly

64 AMERICAN GAME,

with continuous ice, forbidding them to obtain their food,
and compelling them yet once again to take wing and
fly more southward yet, to where no frost nor north-east
tempest cometh.

During this visit it is that they afford the most sport
to the gunner, and that they are harassed, especially
about Long Island, by every poacher’s device and arti-
fice which can be devised to slay them, fairly or unfairly,
by man, wholly without consideration, and reckless that
the slaughter on their very feeding grounds is fast ban-
ishing them from regions where, with all their watchful
sentries out and on the alert, they are decimated hourly
by. volleys from unseen and unsuspected foes.

The worst, most murderous, and least sportsmanly of
all these artifices is “the battery,” an engine long but
vainly proscribed and prohibited by the New York Leg-
islatures, but still in use in all the Long Island waters,
though the shrewder, if not more honest or less poaching
Jerseymen, tolerate it not in their lagoons and inlets,
which still swarm with the fowl daily seen less and
less in the Long Island bays.

“The battery,” says a good writer in the Spirit of the
Times, “is formed of a deal box, about seven feet long,
three wide, and two deep; from the rim of this a plat-
form of board runs off at right angles, about six feet on
every side, and the interior is caulked to render it water
tight. This is moored on some shoal where the birds
are observed to be in the habit of resorting, and bal-

THE CANADA GOOSE. 65

lasted with stones until the platform merely floats upon
the surface of the water; this flat surface is then lightly
covered with sedge, so that at a very short distance
nothing but a small quantity of apparently floating weed
is discernible.”

Into this destructive machine, having arranged his
carved and painted wooden decoys, or “ stools,” around
it, the gunner descends with his guns, and lying flat on
his back, awaits, from before the first glimmer of dawn,
the arrival of the Geese on their feeding grounds, which
he butchers by scores or even hundreds, while they are
floating here and there feeding unsuspiciously. When
it is considered that on every shoal on which fowl can
feed throughout the Long Island waters, two or three of
these murderous contrivances are anchored, so that the
fowl can never feed in quiet—and at no other period
are fowl so jealous of disturbance as while feeding—
and that they are, moreover, constantly harassed at the
same delicate period by being shot at from sailing-boats,
running down among them before the wind, before they
are aware, it is no wonder that they should rise high
into the air, and deserting these inhospitable purlieus,
seek safer places, where, if they be shot at fiercely, and
compelled to run the gauntlet of innumerable fires, as
they fly to and fro from beach to feeding-ground, and
from feeding-ground to beach, they are at least allowed
to feed in peace and without molestation.

The mode practiced in the Jersey waters is this, and

66 AMERICAN GAME.

it is not liable to the objections brought against the for-
mer mode, while it affords sport sufficient to glut the
greediest sportsman, who shoots for sport, not for pot or
market.

Niches are cut in the mud-banks, or points, across
which the fowl fly from the beach to the feeding-grounds,
and vice versa; into these niches the Egg Harbor skiffs,
which the gunners use, are backed up, and in these,
their decks plentifully strewed with sedges, clad him-
self in dingy sedge-colored raiment, the fowler lies, with
his heavy guns expectant. His decoys are moored in
the water around him, and as they bob up and down
with the bobbing of the tide, they closely resemble a
real flock of fowl riding at anchor in the shallows.

Here, so soon as the saffron tints of morning begin to
steal upon the gray of the eastern sky, the hoarse honk !
of the gander reaches the latent gunrer’s ear—his quick
eye glances to the windward, and faint and far on the
bright dawning back-ground he discerns, dimly pen
ciled, the form of the anxiously desired wedge.

“ Aw-unk! aw-unk!” he sets up aloud the well-sim-
ulated cry, crouching down closer in his sedge-covered
egg-shell, and cocks his two ponderous single-barrelled
duck guns. “Aw-unk! aw-unk!” the leading gander
answers— Aw-unk ! E-e—awnk!”

Near by they come and nearer; now he can mark the
circular sweep of their vast oary pinions, and now they
spy the stools, and now they stoop toward them—then

THE CANADA GOOSE. 67

pause and hover, half suspicious—they are alarmed, they
seem about to turn. Oh! most exciting instant.

“ Aw-unk! aw-unk!” E-e—awnk!” That admirable
mimicry has now succeeded. They are decided—they
wheel—stoop—now—now—he can see their very eyes.
Up goes the heavy gun, and the loud roar, that harbin-
gers the flight of five oz. of BB, is as the knell to the
leading gander, and three that fly the next behind him.
Up starts the ambushed enemy, seizes his second piece,
sights it almost by instinct, and the flash and the roar
are simultaneous—and, “ By Heaven! it snows Geese!”
as I once heard old Jesse shout at Barnegat, on a day
when, with a trusty comrade, we slew us twenty Geese,
and well on to a hundred Black Duck, Scaup, and Brent
Geese. If this be not sport enough for sportsmen, why,
then, turn poacher, most ungentle reader, and earn the
malediction of all who love a fair field and fair play for
all things, whether they be fish, flesh, or fowl. ,

Here is a brief description of our bird. Look to the
wood-cut at the head of this paper, and see if you dis-
cern his “ very form and body,” if not his “age and pres-
sure.” Length of bill, from the corner of the mouth to
the end, two inches and three-sixteenths; length of
tarsi, two inches seven-eighths; length from point of bill
to end of tail, about forty inches; wing, eighteen inches.
Head and greater portion of neck, black; cheeks and
throat, white. Adult, with the head, greater part of
neck, primaries, rump and tail, black; back and wings,

68 AMERICAN GAME.

brown, margined with paler brown ; lower part of neck,
breast, and belly, whitish-gray; flanks, darker gray ;
cheeks and throat, upper and under tail-coverts, white ;
the plumage of the female rather duller.

Such, reader, is our Canada Goose, or American Wild
Goose, a game, bold bird in air and on water, a grand
bird on the board. Mine may it be, in both capacities,
to meet him soon and often, but especially at sunrise,
from the lee of some sheltered hassock to be greeted
with his resonant “ Aw-unk! E-e—aw-unk !” :

Il.
MARCH.

Che Wallarr.
Anas Doschas,

EUROPE; ASIA; CANADA; UNITED STATE3.

Che American Calidgeon.

Anas Americana,

HUDSON’S BAY; CANADA; ATLANTIC COASTS.

TIIE MALLARD. Anas Boschas.
THE AMERICAN WIDGEON. Anas Americana.

THE MALLARD.

Anas Boschas.

THE AMERICAN WIDGEON.

Anas Americana.

Bors these beautiful ducks, perhaps, with the excep-
tion of the lovely Summer Duck, or Wood Duck, Anas
Sponsa, the most beautiful of all the tribe, are along the
seaboard of the Northern States somewhat rare of
occurrence, being for the most part’ fresh-water species,
and when driven by stress of weather, and the freezing
over of the inland lakes and rivers which they frequent,
repairing to the estuaries and land-locked lagoons of the
Southern coasts and rivers, as well as to the tepid pools
and warm sources of Florida, the Carolinas, Georgia,
Alabama and Louisiana, in all of which states they
swarm during the summer months.

On many of the inland streams and pools of New
York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and the Far West in
general, including all the bays, shallows and tributaries
of the Great Lakes, as well as all the lovely smaller
lakes of New York, especially where the wild-rice, or

42 AMERICAN GAME.

wild oat, zizania aquatica, is plentiful, they are found in
very great numbers, especially in the spring and sum-
mer time, nor are they unfrequently killed on the snipe-
grounds of New Jersey, around Chatham, Pine-brook,
and the Parcippany meadows on the beautiful Passaic,
and on the yet more extensive grounds on the Seneca
and Cayuga outlets, in the vicinity of Montezuma
Salina, and the salt regions of New York.

In the shallows of the lake and river St. Clair, above
Detroit, on the Liwviére wu Canards, and the marshes of
Chatham in Canada East, all along the shores of Lake
Erie on the Canadian side, especially about Long Point,
and in the Grand River, they literally swarm; while in
all the rivers, and shallow rice-lakes on the northern
shores of Lake Huron, which are the breeding-places of
their countless tribes, they are found, from the breaking
up of the ice to the ‘shutting up of the bays and coves in
which they feed, in numbers absolutely numberless.

The Mallard is generally believed to be the parent
and progenitor of the domestic duck, which, although
far superior in beauty of plumage and grace of form and
deportment, it very closely resembles; yet when or
where it was domesticated, is a question entirely dark
and never to be settled. It is certain that the domestic
duck was unknown to the Greeks and Romans, so late
as to the Christian era, although the paintings in the
Egyptian tombs demonstrate beyond a peradventure
that it was familiar to that wonderful people from a very

THE MALLARD. 13

remote period; and it is also known to have been among
the Chinese, who rear and cultivate them to a very great
extent. Indeed, it is, I think, in the highest degree
probable that the duck, in its domestic state, is an
importation into Europe from the East, where, as I
believe in every quarter of the globe, the Mallard is a
common and indigenous native of the fresh waters.

The Mallard, or Wild Drake, commonly known in the
Eastern States as the Green-head, westward as the Gray
Duck, and in Alabama as the English Duck, weighs
from thirty-six to forty ounces, and measures twenty-
three inches in length, by thirty-five in breadth.

The bill is of a yellowish-green color, not very flat,
about an inch broad, and two and a half long from the
corners of the mouth to the tip of the nail ; the head and
upper half of the neck are of a deep, glossy, changeable
green, terminated in the middle of the neck by a white
collar, with which it is nearly encircled ; the lower parts
of the neck, breast and shoulders are of a deep, vinous
chestnut ; the covering scapular feathers are of a kind of
silvery white, those underneath rufous, and both are
prettily crossed with small, waved threads of brown.
Wing coverts ash, quills brown, and between these
intervenes the speculwin, or beauty-spot, common in the
duck tribe, which crosses the wing in a transverse,
oblique direction. It is of a rich, glossy purple, with
violet or green reflections, and bordered by a double
streak of sooty black and pure white. The belly is of a

4
ae

4 AMERICAN GAME.

pale gray, delicately crossed and pencilled with number-
less narrow, waved, dusky lines, which on the sides and
long feathers. that cover the thighs are more strongly
and distinctly marked. The upper and under tail
coverts, lower part of the back and rump, are black, the
latter glossed with green; the four middle tail feathers
are also black, with purple reflections, and, like those of
the domestic duck, aré stiffly curled upward. The rest
are sharp-pointed, and fade off to the exterior edges
from brown to dull white. “Iris of the eye bright
yellow,. feet, legs and webs reddish orange, claws
black.

The female, and young male until after the first moult,
are very different in plumage from the adult drake, par-
taking none of its beauties, with the exception of the
spot on the wings. All the other parts are plain brown,
marked with black, the centre of every feather being
dark and fading to the edges. She makes her nest, lays
her eggs—from ten to sixteen in number, of a greenish
white—generally in the most sequestered mosses or bogs,
far from the haunts of man, and hidden from his sight
among reeds and rushes. To her young, helpless, un-
fledged family, and they are nearly three months before
they can fly, she is a fond, attentive and watchful parent,
carrying or leading them from one pool to another, as
her fears or inclinations direct her, and she is known to
use the same wily stratagems, in order to mislead the
sportsman and his dog, as those resorted to by the ruffed

THE MALLARD. 45

grouse, the quail and the woodcock, feigning lameness,
and fluttering as if helplessly wounded, along the surface
of the water until she has lured the enemy afar from her
skulking and terrified progeny.

The Mallard is rarely or never shot to decoys, or stools
as they are termed, since these are but little used except
on the coast, where this duck is, as I have previously
observed, of rare occurrence, although it is occasionally
found in company with the Dusky Duck, anas obscura,
better known to gunners as the Black Duck.

It is stated, however, by Dr. Lewis, in his clever work
entitled “ Hints to Sportsmen,” that, “like most of wild
fowl, the Mallard breeds in the far north, and makes its
appearance in the autumn, among the first of our ducks.
It is common throughout all our rivers and fresh-water
lakes, but is seldom met with on the sea-coast. As the
winter progresses, large numbers continue south, and
take up their abode among the rice-fields of the Carolinas,
where they become very fat and particularly palatable ;
their flesh at all times when the weather is not severe is
good, as they feed on vegetable matter in preference to
any other kind of food, and only partake of flesh when
they cannot obtain anything else.

“Mallards are easily brought within gunshot by
means of decoys used in the way already described
under the head of Canvass Backs. They are numerous
at times on the Delaware, and numbers are killed by
shooters hiding themselves in boats and in the reeds

46 AMERICAN GAME.

within range of their stool ducks, which are set out on
the edge of the reeds. They are fond of the seeds of the
wild oats that flourish so profusely on the flats of the
Delaware, and their flesh soon becomes delicate and
juicy.”

Of this statement I doubt not the correctness, although
what I have written above is founded on my personal
observation, having shot wild fowl in the United States
only on the Long Island and New Jersey shores, or the
inland rivers of the Atlantic coasts, and on the great
lakes, where decoy ducks cannot readily be procured.

In England and on the continent of Europe Mallards
are netted in great numbers in decoy ponds fabricated
for that purpose, a full account of which, with plans,
will be found in Beurich’s British Birds, vol. ii.; but as
this method is not adopted in the United States, it is
needless further to allude to it.

“Like the Dusky Duck,” says Mr. Giraud, in his very
clever and agreeable manual on the birds of Long Island,
“when pursued by the sportsman, it becomes shy, and
feeds at night, dozing away the day out of gun-shot from
the shore.

“arly in the month of July, 1837, while hunting
over the meadows for smaller game, I came upon a pair
of Mallard Ducks, moving slowly down the celebrated
‘ Brick-house creek.’ The thought occurred to me that
they were a pair of tame ducks that had become tired
of the monotony of domestic life, and determined on

THE MALLARD. at

pushing their fortunes in the’ broad bay. As I advanced
they took wing, which undeceived me, and I brought
them down. They proved to be an adult male and
female. From this circumstance I was led to suppose
that they had bred in the neighborhood. I made a dili-
gent search, and offered a sufficient bounty to induce
others to search with me—but neither nest nor young
could be found. Probably when migrating, they were
shot at and so badly wounded as to be unable to perform
their fatiguing journey, perhaps miles apart, and per-
chance only found companions in each other a short
time before I shot them.”

When the young birds are about three-fourths grown,
and not as yet fully fledged or able to fly strongly, at
which age they are termed jlappers, they afford excellent
sport over water-spaniels, when they are abundant in
large reed beds along the brink of ponds and rivers.
When full grown, moreover, when they frequent parts
of the country where the streams are narrow and wind-
ing, great sport can be had with them at times, by
walking about twenty yards wide of the brink and as
many in advance of an attendant, who should follow all
the windings of the water and flush the birds, which
springing wide of him will so be brought within easy
range of the gun.

The Mallard is wonderfully quick-sighted and sharp
of hearing, so that it is exceedingly difficult to stalk him
from the shore, especially by a person coming down

8 AMERICAN GAME.

wind upon him, so much so that the acuteness of his
senses has given rise to a general idea that he can detect
danger to windward by means of his olfactory nerves.
This is, however, disproved by the observations of that
excellent sportsman and pleasant writer, John Colqu-
houn of Luss, as recorded in that capital work, “The
Moor and the Loch,” who declares decidedly, that al-
though ducks on the feed constantly detect an enemy
crawling down upon them from the windward, will cori-
stantly, when he is lying in wait, silent and still, and
properly concealed, sail down upon him perfectly unsus-
picious, even when a strong wind is blowing over him
full in their nostrils.

For duck shooting, whether it be practiced in this
fashion, by stalking them from the shore while feeding
in lakelets or rivers, by following the windings of open
and rapid streams in severe weather, or in paddling or
pushing on them in gunning-skiffs, as is practiced on the
Delaware, a peculiar gun is necessary for the perfection
of the sport. To my taste, it should be a double-barrel
from 33 to 36 inches in length, at the outside, about 10
guage, and ten pounds weight. The strength and weight
of the metal should be principally at the breech, which
will answer the double purpose of causing it to balance
well and of counteracting the call. Such a gun will
carry from two to three ounces of No. 4 shot, than which
I would never use a larger size for duck, and with that
load and an equal measure of very coarse powder—

THE MALLARD. 59

Hawker’s ducking-powder, manufactured by Curtis and
Harvey, is the best in the world, and can be procured
of Mr. Brough, in Fulton Street, New York—will do its
work satisfactorily and cleanly at sixty yards, or with
Eley’s green, wire cartridges, which will permit the use
of shot one size smaller, at thirty yards farther. The
utility of these admirable projectiles can hardly be over-
rated; next to the copper-cap, of which Starkey’s water-
proof, central-fire, is the best form, I regard them as the
greatest of modern inventions in the art of gunnery.

Such a gun as I describe can be furnished of first-rate
quality by Mr. John Krider of Philadelphia, Mr. John,
or Patrick Mullin of New York, or My. Henry T. Cooper
of the same city, ranging in price, according to finish,
from one hundred to one hundred and fifty dollars, of
domestic manufacture ; and I would strongly recommend
sportsmen, requiring such an implement, to apply to one
of these excellent and conscientious makers, rather than
even to import a London gun, much more than to pur-
chase at a hazard the miserable and dangerous Birming-
ham trash, manufactured -of three-penny skelp or sham-
damn-iron, got up in handsome velvet-lined mahogany
cases, and tricked out with varnish and gimcrackery ex-
pressly for the American market, such as are offered for
sale at every hardware shop in the country.

The selling of such goods ought to be made by law a
high misdemeanor, and a fatal accident occurring by

‘80 AMERICAN GAME.

their explosion should entail on the head of the vender
the penalty of wilful murder.

The Mallard is found frequently associating in large
plumps with the Pintail, or Sprigtail; another elegant
. fresh water variety, the Dusky-Duck on fresh waters, the
Greenwinged Teal in winter to the southward, and with
the Widgeon on the western waters.

On the big and little pieces—two large moist savannas
on the Passaic river in New Jersey, formerly famous for
their snipe and cock grounds, but now ruined by the
ruthless devastations of pot-hunters and poachers—I have
shot Mallard, Pintail, and Black Duck, over dead points
from setters, out of brakes, in which they were probably
preparing to breed, during early snipe-shooting; but
nowhere have I ever beheld them in such myriads as in
the small rice-lakes on the Severn, the Wye, and the
cold water rivers debouching into the nortliern part of
Lake Huron, known as the Great Georgian Bay, and on
the reed-flats and shallows of Lake St. Clair, in the
vicinity of Alganac, and the mouths of the Thames and
Chevail Ecarté rivers.

I am satisfied that by using well-made decoys, or
stools, and two canoes, one concealed among the rice
and reeds, and the other paddling to and fro, to put up
the teams of wild fowl and keep them constantly on the
move, such sport might be had as can be obtained in no
other section of this country, perhaps of the world; and
that the pleasure would well repay the sportsman for a

THE AMERICAN WIDGEON. 81

trip far more difficult and tedious than the facilities af
forded by the Erie Railroad and the noble steamers on
the lakes now render a visit to those glorious sporting-
grounds.

Tur Amertcan Wineeroy, the bird which is represented
as falling headforemost with collapsed wings, shot per-
fectly dead without a struggle, in the accompanying
woodcut, while the Mallard goes off safely, quacking at
the top of his voice in strange terror, though nearly allied
to the European species, is yet perfectly distinct, and
peculiar to this continent.

It is thus accurately described by Mr. Giraud, although
but an unfrequent visitor of the Long Island bays and
shores :

“Bill short, the color light grayish blue; speculum
green, banded with black. Under wing coverts white.
Adult male with the coral space, sides of the head, under
the eye, upper part of the neck and throat brownish
white, spotted with black. A broad band of white, com-
mencing at the base of the upper mandible, passing over
the crown.” It is this mark which has procured the bird
its general provincial appellation of “ Baldpate.” “ Be-
hind the eye a broad band of bright green, extending
backward on the hind neck about three inches; the.
feathers on the nape rather long; lower neck and sides
of the breast, with a portion of the upper part of the
breast reddish brown. Rest of the lower parts white,
excepting a patch of black at the base of the tail. Under

4%

82 AMERICAN GAME.

tail covert the same color. Flanks brown, barred with
dusky ; lower part of the hind neck and fore part of the
back undulated with brownish and light brownish red,
hind part undulated with grayish white; primaries
brown; outer webs of the inner secondaries black, mar-
gined with white—inner webs grayish brown; secondary
coverts white, tipped with black; speculum brilliant
green, formed by the middle secondaries. Length
twenty-one inches, wing ten and a half. Female smaller,
plumage duller, without the green markings.”

The Widgeon breeds in the extreme north, beyond the
reach of the foot of civilized man, in the boundless mosses
and morasses, prodigal of food and shelter, of Labrador,
and Boothia. Felix, and the fur countries, where it spends
the brief but ardent summer in the cares of nidification,
and the reproduction of its species.

During the spring and autumn, it is widely distributed
throughout the Union, from the fresh lakes of the north-
west to the shores of the ocean, but it is most abundant,
as well as most delicious where the wild rice, Zizania
pannicula effusa, the wild celery, Balisneria Americana,
and the eel-grass, Zostera Marina, grow most luxuriously.
On these it fares luxuriously, and becomes exceedingly
fat, and most delicate and succulent eating, being almost
entirely a vegetable feeder, and as such, devoid of any
fishy or sedgy flavor.

In the spring and autumn it is not unfrequently shot
in considerable numbers, from skiffs, on the mud banks

THE AMERICAN WIDGEON. 83

of the Delaware, in company with Blue-winged Teal;
and in winter it congregates in vast flocks, together with
Scaups, better known as Bluebills, or Broadbills, Red-
heads, and Canvasbacks, to which last it is a source of
constant annoyance, since being a far less expert diver
than the Canvasback, it watches that: bird until it rises
with the highly-prized root, and flies off with the stolen
booty in triumph.

The Widgeon, like the Canvasback, can at times be
toled, as it is termed, or lured within gunshot of sports-
men, concealed behind artificial screens of reeds, built
along the shore, or behind natural coverings, such as
brakes of cripple or reed-beds, by the gambols of dogs
taught to play and sport backward and forward along
the shore, for the purpose of attracting the curious and
fascinated wild fowl within easy shooting distance. And
strange to say, so powerful is the attraction that the
same flock of ducks has been known to be decoyed into
gunshot thrice within the space of a single hour, above
forty birds being killed at the three discharges. Scaups,
or Blackheads, as they are called on the Chesapeake,
tole, it is said, more readily than any other species, and
next to these the Canvasbacks and Redheads; the Bald-
pates being the most cautious and wary of them all, and
rarely suffering themselves to be decoyed, except when
in company with the Canvasbacks, along with which
they swim shoreward carelessly, though without appear-
ing to notice the dog. .

84 AMERICAN GAME.

It has been supposed that Ducks in general, and the
Widgeon in particular, are of keen scent; and I am
more particularly induced to allude to this from the fact
of my finding the following in the work of Dr. Lewis,
who is usually so correct, that to point out an error of.
opinion is in no wise to detract from its credit or utility.

“The best weather for this sport”—paddling a punt
upon flocks of Widgeon—“ is a clear, windy, half moon-
light night,” says he, “provided the wind does not blow
from you, as the ducks may smell you; in fact, it is
always necessary to get to leeward of wild fowl of all
kinds, as their power of scenting is very great.”

That Dr. Lewis should have fallen into this error does
not at all surprise me, since it is one prevalent among
English gamekeepers, and American gunners and bay-
men alike. Such men, who are invariably excellent
observers of facts and judges of effects, and on whose
advice, not to attempt to advance upon flocks of wild
fowl feeding, down wind, either by land or water, it is
very well to rely, are for the most part indifferent dedu-
cers of causes; and I have rarely found one of either
class, on whose judgment concerning the cause of any
habit, instinct, migration, or movement, however well
established as a fact, the least reliance could be placed.

That this alleged fact, of wild fowl having the power
of scenting an enemy, is an error, has been distinctly
established by that excellent sportsman and judicious

THE AMERICAN WIDGEON. 85

writer Colquhoun, and my own observation fully con-
firms his assertion.

Wild fowl will not allow you, it is true, to creep on
them over land, or paddle upon them over water, down
the wind; but that is because the breeze bears down
the sound of your approach to their keen ears, not the
taint of your presence to their nostrils. If you are con-
cealed up wind of them, and preserve silence, they fly
or swim up to your ambush, perfectly fearless, and
unscared by your presence, which—had they any real
power of scenting at a distance—their sense of smell
would equally reveal to them, whether you were station-
ary, or in motion.

These birds, with their congeners, are also shot from
points, as at Carrol’s Island, Abbey Island, Maxwell’s
Point, Legoe’s Point, and other places in the same
vicinity about the Bush and Gunpowder rivers, while
flying over high in air; and so great is the velocity
of their fight when going before the wind, and such the
allowance that must be made in shooting ahead of them,
that the very best of upland marksmen are said to make
very sorry work of it, until they become accustomed to
the flight of the wild fowl. They are also shot occasion-
ally in vast numbers at holes in the ice which remain
open when the rest of the waters are frozen over; and
yet again by means of swivel guns, carrying a pound of
shot or over, discharged from the bows of a boat,
stealthily paddled into the flocks at dead of night,

86 AMERICAN GAME.

when sleeping in close columns on the surface of the
water. This method is, however, much reprobated by
sportsmen, and that very justly, as tending beyond any
other method to cause the fowl to desert their feeding |
grounds.

In conclusion, we earnestly recommend. both these
beautiful birds to our sporting readers, both: as. objects °
of pleasurable pursuit and subjects of first rate feeds.
A visit at this season to Seneca Lake, the Montezuma
Meadows, or that region, could not fail to yield rare
sport. 3

IV.
APRIL.

Che American Snipe.

Scolopaw Wilsonti.
THE ENGLISH SNIPE.

BRITISH PROVINCES; UNITED STATES; ARCTIC REGIONS
TO MEXICO,

Che Stripes Bass

Labraw Lineatus,

THE ROCK FISH.

BAY OF FUNDY TO THE CAPES OF THE CHESAPEAKE,

Scolopar Wilsonii.

THE AMERICAN SNIPE.

THE ENGLISI SNIPE.

THE AMERICAN SNIPE.
Scolopax Wilsoni.

THE ENGLISH SNIPE.

Ir is a singular thing, and one which elucidates the
great research necessary, and the extreme difficulties en-
countered, in the attempt to establish facts of natural
history with regard to birds of passage, that this beauti-
ful little bird, the general favorite of the sportsman and
the epicure, well known to all classes of men, and a vis-
itant, in some one of its closely allied varieties, of every
known nation, is still a mystery, as regards some of its
habits, and continues to bafile the inquiries of the most
learned and inquisitive ornithologists.

Its habits, the nature of its food, and therefore the ne-
cessities of its existence, render it an inhabitant of tem-
perate climates, and of regions in which the moist and
loamy soil, from which it derives its sustenance of small
worms, insects, and the like, is not frozen during the pe-
riod of its visitations so hard as to preclude its boring
with its delicate and sensitive bill for its semi-aquatic
prey of worms and larve.

* 90 AMERICAN GAME.

Still, as extreme cold prevents it from obtaining sub-
sistence, extreme heat would appear to be still less con-
genial to its tastes or temperament; for, whereas it lingers
in the north until autumnal frosts seal up the marshes
and the soft stream margins against its probing bill, it
flies from its winter quarters in the rice-fields of Carolina,
and Georgia, and the farther morasses of Texas and New
Mexico, the instant that opening spring admits of its
return to the fresh meadows and pure rivulets of the
north-east.

The winter quarters of this bird, then, are fairly ascer-
tained, ranging from Carolina southward until almost the
northern limits of the Tropics; thence, so soon as the
blue-bird begins to pipe in the apple-tree, the shad to
appear in the rivers, the willow-buds to turn yellow, and
the frogs to croak and chirrup, with us to the northward,
the snipe is seen everywhere, hurrying, according to the
progress of the season, singly, in whisps of ten or twelve,
or in huge flights, ever, ever, northwardly. In Mary-
land, in Delaware, in southern Pennsylvania and New
Jersey, he is wont to appear from the 1st to the 20th of
March ; in New York and New Jersey northward, from
the 15th of March to the 20th of April, remaining for a
longer or shorter period according to_the steadiness of
the weather, the state of the ground as regards wet or
drought, and the geniality of the season. In mild, soft,
temperate, moist seasons, with a prevalence of westerly
weather, he will linger with us into the lap of June; and

THE AMERICAN SNIPE. 91

in such seasons, more or less, he woos his mate, nidifi-
cates and rears his young among us, from the Raritan
and the Passaic northward and eastward to the Great
Lakes, and throughout Michigan, Wisconsin, probably,
and Canada West, up far into the Arctic Circles.

Still, those which breed with us in the United States,
and even in the Canadas, are but as drops of water to an
ocean, to those which rush on the untiring pinions moved
by amatory instinct to the far breeding grounds of Lab-
rador, Symsonia, and Boothia Felix, whither it is sep-
posed they resort to rear their young in hyperborean soli-
tude, thence to reissue, in the summer and the earlier
autumn, and re-populate our midland meadows.

In the neighborhood of Amherstberg, Canada West,
they appear very early; often in February of mild sea-
sons, alwaysin March ; and there may breed, and remain
until banished by severe cold. I shot one there myself
last autumn, the last bird of the season, very late in No-
vember, I believe on the 28th or 29th; and with the
plover, the Hudsonian godwit, and the Esquimaux
curlew, they were seen there this spring in the first days
of March.

Around Quebec, I have shot English snipe on the up-
lands, in fallow fields and rushy pastures—for the grass
in the morasses does not begin to shoot in those far north-
ern latitudes, so as to afford them shelter, until much
later in the year—in the end of April and the beginning
of May; but they arrive there only by small scattered

92 AMERICAN GAME,

whisps, or single birds, tarry a few short days, and flit
onward to their unknown destination.

This, then, is their mystery—that in no known land
are they perennial; in no ascertained region—so far as I
can learn—are they positively known to breed in the
vast concourses which must breed somewhere, in order
to supply the prodigious flights which issue yearly from
the northern regions of three continents, Europe,
America, and Asia, to fill the warmer countries, and to
be slaughtered literally by myriads, season after season,
without undergoing much if any visible diminution of
numbers.

Ever, in all places, in all countries, in all continents,
which they visit in spring, they are seen pressing north-
ward still, from March until May ; no one being able to
say here ends their tide of emigration, this is their chosen
resting-place.

Their breeding season is from the middle of May to
the beginning of July; on the 4th of which month I
have shot young birds, with the pin-feathers undeveloped,
as large as the parents—these birds having been hatched
on the ground whereon I killed them. Indeed, it is my
opinion, that all birds which tarry in our latitudes be-
yond the 10th of May, either do breed with us, or would
do so but for the persecution of the pot-hunter—all
which intend to steer farther north having departed ere
that time.

About the 15th of July the returning hordes, young

“THE AMERICAN SNIPE. : 93

birds and old together, full grown and in fine condition,
begin to reappear in the marshes of Quebec and its vicin-
ity, which may be said to be the extremest northern point
from which we have continuous and authentic annual
information of their appearance. At that time the
slaughter of the snipe on the marshes of Chateau Richer,
and of the islands farther down the St. Lawrence, is pro-
digious. There they linger until the frosts become so
severe as to drive them from their feeding-grounds,
which generally takes place early in September, from
which time, throughout that month, all October, and a
portion—more or less according to the season—of No-
vember, and even December, every likely swamp, mo-
rass, and feeding-ground of Canada West, of the western,
midland, and eastern states, from which they are not
persecuted and banished by the incessant banging of
pot-hunters and idle village boys, swarms with them, in
quantities sufficient to afford sport to hundreds, and a
delicacy io thousands of our inhabitants, if they were
protected from useless and unmeaning persecution, by
which alone they are prevented from being as numerous
among us as at any former period.

For I am well assured, that—unlike the woodcock,
which, breeding in our midst, and dwelling with us for
months at a time, is annually slaughtered while breeding,
hatching, or immature, and is thus in rapid progress
towards extirpation—the snipe, when unmolested in its
breeding-grounds, is not diminished in its numerical pro-

94. AMERICAN GAME.

duction, but is rendered scarcer in thickly settled -dis-
tricts, nigh to large towns, by incessant harrassing, which
drives it to remoter and securer feeding-grounds.

I do not mean by this, however, to assert that the abo-
lition of spring snipe-shooting would not be an advan-
tage—on the contrary, I am convinced that it would;
although well assured that no such measure can be hoped
at the hands of our legislators ; for, as the snipe ordina-
rily lays four eggs, the destruction of each one of the
breeders on their way northward, of course diminishes
the stock of the coming season by five birds.

So much for the times and places of the snipe’s migra-
tions. Of his appearance or characteristics—so well is
he known—it is almost useless to speak; it may, how-
ever, be well to observe that although commonly termed
the Eneuisu Sniex, our bird is a thorough native Ameri-
can, differing from the bird of Europe in being about
one inch smaller every way, and in having two more
feathers, sixteen instead of fourteen, in the tail. In
other minute, but still permanent, and therefore charac-
teristic distinctions, it differs from the Asiatic and An-
tarcti¢ snipes; although in their rapid, zigzag flight and
shrill squeak when flushed; in their irregular soaring
through the air in gloomy weather; in their perpendic-
ular towering and plumb descent, their drumming with
the wing-feathers, and bleating with the voice, during
the breeding-season, all the species or varieties so closely
resemble each other, that they are far more easily con-

THE AMERICAN SNIPE. * 95

founded than distinguished by the unscientific sports-
man.

The American bird has, however, two or three habits,
during early spring-shooting, which I have never ob-
served in the European species, nor seen noticed in any
work of natural history ; the first of these is frequenting
underwood and bushy covert abounding in springs and
intersected by cattle-tracks, and occasionally even high
woods, during wild, stormy, and dark weather, especially
when snow-squalls are driving; and this is a habit of the
‘bird meriting the attention of the sportsman, as in such
weather, when he finds no birds on the open and unshel-
tered marshes, he will do well to beat the neighboring
underwoods, if any; and if not, the nearest swampy
woodlands; by doing which he will oftentimes fill his
bag when he despairs of any sport. The second habit is
that of alighting, not unfrequently, on rail-fences, or
stumps, and even on high trees, which I think I can
safely assert that the European bird never does; and the
third is the utterance, when in the act of skimming over
the meadows, after soaring, bleating, and drumming for
an hour at a stretch in mid air, of “a sharp reiterated
chatter, consisting of a quick, jarring repetition of the
syllables, Aeh-kek-keh-kek-kek, many times in succession,
with arising and falling inflection, like that of a hen
which has just laid an egg.” *

There is no Jack Snivz in America, though many per-

* “Prank Forrester’s Field Sports of North America,” vol. i. p. 161.

96 AMERICAN GAME,

sons ignorantly and obstinately assert the reverse; the
true Jack Snipe being a northern bird of Europe: and
Asia, visiting the milder climates during the hard
weather. Itis an exact counterpart of the English Snipe,
only about one-half smaller; it never utters any cry on
rising, and rarely flies above one hundred yards, often
dropping within fifty feet of the muzzle of a gun just
discharged at it, although unwounded. The bird which
is here confounded with it, is the PecroraL Sanpprrer, a
bird about one-third smaller than the snipe, of a lighter
brown, with a short, arched bill, and a feeble quavering-
whistle. It is found indiscriminately on the sea-shore,
and in upland marshes; I have shot it from Lake Huron
to the Penobscot, and the Capes of the Delaware; it lies
well before dogs, which will point it, and is a good bird
on the table. It is known in Long Island as the “ Mea-
dow Snipe,” and the “Short Neck” in New Jersey, and
thence westward, as the “Fat Bird,” or “Jack Snipe,”
indiscriminately. It is not a snipe at all, but a Sand-
piper, Tringa Pectoralis.

The only other true snipe ascertained to exist in Ame-
rica, is the Rep-Breasrep Snirz, Scolopax Novebora-
censis, better known as the “ Dowrrcuer,” an unmeaning

name, adopted and persevered in bythe Baymen, or as
the “ Quail Snipe.” At Egg Harbor the gunners call it
the “Brown-back.” It is found only on the salt marshes,
and is never hunted with dogs, but shot from ambush
over decoys,

THE AMERICAN SNIPE. 97

It appears, then, that the coming and stay of the com-
mon snipe in our districts, in spring, is very uncertain
and dependent on the state and steadiness of the weather.
Some seasons, they will stay for weeks on the moist,
muddy flats among the young and succulent herbage,
growing fat and lazy, lying well to the dog, and afford-
ing great sport. Sometimes they will merely alight, feed,
rest, and resume their flight, never giving the sportsman
a chance even of knowing that they have been, and are
gone, except by their chalkings and borings where they
have fed. Again, at other seasons, they will lie singly,
or in scattered whisps on the uplands, in fallow fields,
even among stunted brushwood, lurking perdu all day,
and resorting to the marshes by night, leaving the traces
of their presence in multitudes, to perplex the sportsman,
who, perhaps, beats the ground for them, day after day,
only to find that they were, but are not.

This variance in the habit of the snipe it is, which
makes him so hard a bird to kill; for, although he is per-
plexing from his rapid and twisting flight to a novice, I
consider him, to a cool old hand, as easy a bird to kill as
any that flies. The snipe invariably rises against or
across wind, and in doing so hangs for an instant on the
air before he can gather his way ; that instant is the time
in which to shoot him, and that trick of rising against
wind is his bane with the accomplished shot and sports-
man, for by beating down the wind, keeping his brace of
dogs quartering the ground before him, across the wind,

o

t

98 AMERICAN GAME,

so that they will still have the air in their noses, he com-
pels the bird to rise before him, and cross to the right on
the left hand, affording him a clear and close shot, instead
of whistling straight away up wind, dead ahead of him,
exposing the smallest surface to his aim, and frequently
getting off without a shot, as it will constantly do, if the
shooter beats wp wind, even with the best and steadiest
dogs in the world. The knack of shooting snipe, as some
people who can’t do it choose to call it, is no other than
the knack of shooting quick, shooting straight, and shoot-
ing well ahead of cross shots—this done with a gun that
will throw its charge close at forty to fifty yards, with
14 oz. of No. 8 shot, equal measures of shot and of
Brough’s diamond-grain powder, will fetch three snipe
out of every five, which is great work, in spite of what
the cockneys say, who pick their shots, never firing at a
hard bird, or one over twenty paces away, and then boast
of killing twenty shots in succession. Verbwm sap.
The great difference of the grounds to be beaten in dift
ferent weathers; the difficulty in determining which
ground to assign to which day; the immense extent of
country to be traversed, if birds are scarce or wild, or if :
there are many varieties of soil, covert, and feeding in
one range, and the sportsman fail in his two or three first
beats in finding game, and therefore have to persevere
till he do find them, these, and the hardness of the walk-
ing in rotten quagmires and deep morasses, affording no
sure foot-hold, and often knee-deep in water, these it is

THE AMERICAN SNIPE. 99

which make successful snipe-shooting one of the greatest
feats in the art, and the crack snipe-finder and snipe-
killer—for the two are one, or rather the second depends
mainly on the first—one of the first, if not the first artist
in the line.

It is from this necessity of beating, oftentimes, very
extensive tracts of land before finding birds, and there-
fore beating very rapidly if you would find birds betimes,
that I so greatly prefer and recommend the use of very
fast, very highly-bred, and very far-ranging setters, to
that of any pointer in the world, for snipe-shooting in the
open—apart from their great superiority over the pointer
in hardihood, endurance of cold, powers of retrieving,
beauty and good-nature.

Of course, speaking of dogs, whether setter, pointer,
dropper, or cocking-spaniel, it is understood that we
speak of dogs of equal qualities of nose, staunchness to
the point, and steadiness at coming to the charge the
instant a shot is fired. No dog which does not do all
these things habitually, and of course, is worth the
rope that should hang him; and no man is worthy the
name of a shot or a sportsman, who cannot, and does not,
keep his dogs, whether setters, pointers, or cockers, un-
der such command that he can turn them to the right or
left, bring them to heel, stop them, or down charge them,
at two hundred yards distance if it be needful.

If these things, then, be equal, as they can be made
equal, though I admit a setter to be more difficultly kept

100 AMERICAN GAME.

in discipline than a pointer—the fastest setter you can
get, is the best dog for snipe-shooting; his superiority, in
other points, infinitely counterbalancing the greater
trouble it requires to break and control him. I am well
aware that it has been said, and that by authorities, that
the best dog over which to shoot snipe, is an old, slow,
broken-down, staunch pointer, who crawls along at a
foot’s pace, and never misses, overruns, or flushes a bird.

And so, in two cases, he is; but in one case, no dog is
‘just as good as he is, and in the other the argument is
one of incapacity to use what is best, and therefore is no
argument.

If birds are’so thick on the grounds, and so tame that.
you can fill your bag in walking over one or two acres at
a foot’s pace, a very slow pointer ¢s better than fast set-
ters—but no dog at all, your walking up the birds your-
self, which you can do just as quickly as the dog can, is
better than the slow pointer. Indeed, on very small
grounds, very thickly stocked, it is by far the most kill-
ing way to use no dog, but to walk up the birds.

Ifa man is so weak and infirm of purpose, or so igno-
rant of the first principles of his art, as to be unable to
control his setters, he must, I suppose, use a slow pointer ;
but it cannot matter what dog such a man uses, he
never can be a sportsman.

If there be a hundred birds lying, and lying well on
one acre of feeding-ground, the birds can be killed with-

THE AMERICAN SNIPE. 101

out a dog, or with a slow dog, as you will; any man who
can pull a trigger must fill his bag.

If there be a hundred birds scattered, wild, over five
hundred acres of ground, where are you with your slow
dog, or your no dog? Just no where. While you are
painfully picking up your three or four birds with your
slow pointer, your true sportsman, and slashing walker,
with his racing up-head and down-stern setters, will have
found fifty, and bagged twenty-five or thirty.

There are ten days in a season when birds are wild
and sparse, for one when they are congregated and lie
hard; andthe argument comes to this, that when birds
can be killed with ease, even without a dog at all, a slow
pointer is the best ; when they are difficult to find, and
hard to kill, even by a crack shot, the slow pointer is no
where, and of no use, while the racing setters will fill
the bag to a certainty.

For my own part, I can say to a certainty, that Ihave
had more sport, and killed more birds, by many, many
times, when birds have been widely scattered, and diffi-
cult to find, and when I have walked half or a quarter of
a mile between every shot fired, than I ever have when
birds have lain close, and jumped up at every pace under
my feet; and for a simple reason, that the places in
which birds so rise and lie, are rare and of small extent,
and the days on which they do so few and far apart.

Therefore I say, friend—tfor all true sportsmen I hold
friends—choose well thy day, when the air is soft and

102 AMERICAN GAME.

genial, the wind south-westerly, the meadows green with
succulent and tender grasses, and moist with the deposit
of subsiding waters—select thy grounds carefully ; in
such a time as I have named, the wide and open marsh
meadows; but if the wind be from the eastward, cold,
squally and snow laden, then try the bushy, briery brakes,
where cattle poach the soil, and the marsh waters creep,
or the verge of the meadows, under the lea of the maple
swamp, or at the worst the very grounds where you would
beat for woodcock in July—begin from the farthest wind-
ward point of thy beat, casting thy brace of setters off
from thy heel, to the right and left, and so often as they
have diverged one hundred yards, turning them with a
whistle and a wave of the hand, so that they shall cross
continually before thy face, down wind of thee, at some
thirty paces distant; and so persevere—if birds be plenty
and lie well, walking not to exceed two miles the hour;
if they be rare and wild, four miles, or by ’r lady! five, if
thou mayest compass it. If one dog stand, while the
other’s back is turned, whistle, that he shall turn his head,
then hold thy hand aloft, with one quiet “toho/” but no
shouting ; if he be broke, he shall stand like a carved
stone. Then walk up to the point leisurely, be sure that
thou go down wind, making a circuit if needs be, with thy
gun at half-cock, the ball of thy thumb on the hammer,
and the nail of thy fore-finger inside the guard, but not
upon the trigger. When the bird rises, cock your gun,
and down him! If thy dogs do their devoir, they shall

THE AMERICAN SNIPE. 108

drop to the charge unbidden; if they do not, raise thy
hand with an imperious gesture, and ery coolly and
calmly, * Down charge!” but however ill they behave,
nay, even if they run in and eat thy bird, move not till
thy gun is loaded; then calmly walk up to them, drag
them, pitilessly scourging them all the way, to the place
where they should have charged, and rate them in the
best of thy dog-language. I say “scourging them pidi-
lessly,” because that is in truth the merciful course; for
so one or two whippings will suffice, instead of constant
small chastisements and irritation, which spoil a dog’s
temper and break his spirit, without conquering his ob-
stinacy, or gaining the ascendancy over him.

Tf, on the contrary, they charge as decent dogs should
and do charge, so soon as thy gun be loaded, lift them,
with a * Hold up, good lads!” and cast them gently on-
ward, checking them with a “Steady, dogs!” if they
show disposition to be rash, until they point the dead
bird, if killed, or draw on him,ifrunning. Then, witha
“Toho! Steady!” walk to their point ; pick up the bird
under their noses, praising them the while, or bid them
“Fetch!” according to the circumstances of the case ;
but if they retrieve the bird without pointing him, or
even after pointing him, until told to “fetch,” let chas-
tisement not hide her head.

This, rest assured, friend, is the way to do it.

For the rest, whether thou wear fen-boots, or shoes and
trowsers, or, as I use, by deliberate preference, arch-

104 AMERICAN GAME.

boots, corduroy shorts, and leggins, suit thine own fancy ;
but let thy shooting-jacket be roomy on the chest and
shoulders, and well supplied with ample pockets. Let
thy gun be—for my choice—of 31 inches, 12 or 14 guage,
72 to 8 pounds. , Let thy powder be Brough’s diamond
grain, or John Hall’s glass—on no account any other—
thou mayest get it of Henry T. Cooper, in Broadway,
New York—thy shot, No. 8—thy caps Starkey’s central
fire, or Moore & Gray’s, or Westley Richards’—by no
means /rench, or Walker’s, the first of which fly, while
the latter are, I think, corrosive. Forget not to have in
thy pocket a dog-whip, a stout knife, a yard or two of
strong cord, a pocket-flask, replenished, as thou wilt, with
old Otard, or as I recommend thee, Ferintosh or Glenli-
vat whiskey—stick in the seam of thy waistcoat a strong
darning-needle, headed with sealing-wax, itisthe only true
and responsible gun-picker; and so, good sport to thee,
and health and temper to enjoy it!—as good sport, gentle
reader, as I trust myself to enjoy this coming week of
April, the rain-gods and the river-gods permitting, and
the nymphs remembering us, as their long time adorer,
in their kind orisons. .

The American Syirz, established by Wilson asa dis-
tinct species, is eleven inches long, bill inclusive, and sev-
enteen from tip to tip. Bill fluted, two anda half inches
long, the upper mandible the longest, terminating in a
highly sensitive nob, brown, tipped with black. The
crown of the head black, bisected lengthwise and bor-

THE AMERICAN SNIPE. 105

dered by three yellowish-white streaks. Above the eye
a dusky-brown line; neck and upper breast, pale dusky
brown, speckled with black and white; chin dirty white.
Back black, bordered with two white lines. Scapulars
velvety black, richly marbled with ferruginous, and
broadly edged exteriorly with white. Wings dusky,
all the feathers tipped with white, quills brown, exterior
quills edged with white. Upper tail coverts, ferruginous,
tipped with whitish and spotted with black. Tail black,
ended with a chestnut bar, tipped with white. Belly pure
white ; flanks white with dusky bars. Thighs, vent, and
under-tail coverts white. Legs and feet pale green.

It is worthy of remark that the American Snipe,
though neither webbed nor semipalmated, swims freely,
a fact which is, I believe, mentioned by no naturalist.

On the first occasion which made me acquainted with
this fact, I was standing on the verge of a narrow brook,
of some six or eight feet over, in the act of loading both
barrels of my gun, which I had just discharged, when
a snipe flushed by another of my party, flew over my
head, and pitched on an open spot of muddy soil, within
six feet of me, evidently not observing me, as I stood
motionless. I watched its actions and movements, for
afew seconds, as it pruned its ruffled feathers, walked
daintily about, picked up a worm or two, and finally, to
my great surprise, took to the water, swam cleverly
across the brook and ensconced itself in a tuft of rushes,

whence I shortly afterward dislodged and shot it.
he

106 AMERICAN GAME.

On the second occasion, I was shooting on the Chat-
ham meadows, in company with Mr. Nicholls, late of
H. M. 82d Reg’t. The birds were wild, the day windy,
and the ground too wet for birds to liewell. At last we
marked three down together in a small meadow, bor-
dered by a very broad fen ditch of eighteen or twenty
feet, and half that depth with clean cut. banks, nearly
perpendicular. There was nearly no covert on the
meadow. ;

Our setters drew up carefully—stood perfectly dead
when we saw them drop, looked wildly about for a mo-
ment, much puzzled at seeing nothing rise, then drew
on slowly and foot by foot, to the edge of the broad
dyke, where they again stood steadily. When we
reached the bank, the three birds rose, out of shot, in
the bare marsh beyond. In all they had run about three
hundred yards, besides swimming the brook. Previous
to seeing that, I should have fancied the birds had
taken wing, and beaten no further than to the water-
course. Now I should certainly cross it, and try, before
abandoning the game, whether the dogs could not make
them out on the farther bank.

To this, I annex an account of a veritable day’s sport,
which occurred precisely as it is here set down, to the
smallest incident, to the author, while shooting over a
superb brace of setters, purchased of that well known
sportsman, “ Dinks” of Amherstburgh, in company with
a crack shot and boon companion, now departed.

SNIPE-SHOOTING. 107

The scene was Short’s Landing, in the State of Dela-
ware, and on the noble river of the same name. The
place “ Robinson’s tavern”’—the time daybreak, on as
wild an April morning as ever woke in mingled hail-
squalls and sunshine.

Spring Snipxe-SnooTing.

‘“<Tf you please, sir, it’s taime to get oop,” said a cheer-
ful voice, with a most marvelous north-country burr, at
the best bed-room door of a small way-side tavern, in
the little State of Delaware, not many miles distant
from the noble river whence it derives its name.

“The deuce it is!” replied the lodger, in fine manly
ringing tones, although the speaker was but just awak-
ened. “I did not think that I had been in bed ten min-
utes. What time is it, Timothy, and how does the day
look ?”

“'T’ clock’s run doon; and it beant day,” replied
Harry Archer’s famous body servant, who was in one of
his literal moods, that morning, busying himself, as he
spoke, in stropping his master’s razors by the apology
for a light afforded by the home-made dip.

“Confound you, man, when will it be day then, and
how does the morning frame ?”* answered his master,

*To “frame,” in Yorkshire, signifies “ to promise,” “to give token

of becoming,” as “the puppy frames to be a good one.” “The day
Jrames to be fine.”

108 AMERICAN GAME.

himself adopting the Yorkshire phraseology, half in fun,
half in irritation, to meet his henchman’s compre-
hension.

“T’ sun’ll be oop iv half an hoor, amd, t’morn frames
vary badly.”

“ What—is it wet ? are we going to have arainy day ?”

“Nay! it’s not that weet; nor it beant going to ra-ain,
ay reckon. But it blaws raight doon, and ¢ sky’s as
red as blude amaist i’ ? east. It'll tak’ walking the day,
and shuting too, if think’st to mak’ a bag.”

“ Wasterly wind, Tim?”

“Norwest,” answered the varlet. “Noo, then, t’
razors is ready and t? hot wather; and t’ breakfast,
sooch as ’tis, itll ready i’ faive minutes. T’ other gen-
tleman, he’s been doon i’ t’ kitchen, boiling t? eggs hard
mair nor a quarter of an hoor.”

“ Hurrah ! then, away with you; and tell him I'll be
with him before they are hard.”

Nor was the boast an empty one, or unfulfilled, for
scarcely ten minutes had elapsed, before the rickety
‘staircase clattered beneath the ponderous hob-nailed
half-boots of the sportsman, and while his companion
was still superintending the preparation of the eggs
which were to furnish their luncheon, Harry entered
the breakfast room in full fig, corduroy breeches, leather
leggins, broad-skirted, many-pocketed shooting coat,
and wide-leaved felt hat.

“The top of the morning to you, Charley ;” said he,

SNIPE-SHOOTING. 109

as he came in, addressing the Baltimorean, who was
booted to the hip, ready for action. .

“The bottom of the night, rather ;” replied Charley
laughing. “It’s an awful state of society, when a fel-
low’s dragged out of bed by an insane Yorkshireman,
two hours before day-break, and made to get into his
boots, whether or no.”

“Tt must have been something of a job to get into
yours, I should think ; but Pll tell you what, if'we get
the birds into a bit of tussocky bog, where we shall find
them, if we find them anywhere to-day, you'll get out of
them, I fancy, a plaguy deal quicker than you got in;
for they'll stick fast as sure as mud’s mud—and the mud
there, or clay, rather, is better than any boot-jack.”

“The Lord’s will be done—” answered the other;

“at all events, I shall keep dry ten minutes longer than

you.”

“True, O king! Now, Timothy, take half that loaf of
rye bread, cut it into chunks, and give the dogs their
breakfast.”

“Which dogs are you going to take to-day, Harry ?”

“¢ Dinks’ and ‘ Bob’—the orange and white, and the
black and white Russian.”

“Dinks is the greatest beauty and Bob the greatest
brute I ever set my eyes upon.”

“Tf you don’t change your tune before night, you may
eat me. Any one can see that Dinksis by far the hand-

110 AMERICAN GAME,

somer, but Bob is the very best dog I ever pulled a trig-
ger over in my life. That’s all.”

“ But I thought you said they had never seen snipe.”

“T gaid they had never been hunted upon snipe, or
allowéd to point them. English-broke setters, are very
apt to be whipped off snipe, for it’s a horrid bore in
moor-shooting, to toil half a mile or better up hill to a
steady point, and. then instead of a pack of grouse, to
flush what Colquhoun calls a ‘ twiddling snipe.’ These
dogs were broke in England, and re-broke in Canada
West.” ,

“ And are there no snipe there?”

“So many, and they lie so hard, that dogs are useless.
On the regular snipe grounds, they walk them up.”

“ And how do you expect these dogs to point snipe
now ?” .

“T do not expect them to point snipe at first; but as
soon as they find we are shooting them, they'll point
them fast enough, I promise you.”

“You think so?”

“No. Iknowso. I would bet a hundred to five, if
I were a betting man, that before night they point, and
back, and find dead too, on snipe as steadily as ever you
saw dogs.”

“May be so; but it’s new to me. Do you mean to
say that good dogs will stand anything ?”

“T mean to say that good dogs can be broke to stand
on anything, or—nothing.”

SNIPE-SHOOTING. 111

“On anything! on any game you mean.”

“T mean, precisely, what I say—on anything. And
that is the reason why I checked you for shooting a
meadow-lark over them the other day, and why I am so
particular as to the ‘who’ I take out with me. If small
birds are killed indiscriminately with game, over dogs,
before many days you will have as dead points at larks
and brown thrushes, as at quail and ruffed grouse. If a
man shoots pigeons, larks, and black-birds, or even
reed-birds, for that matter, over my setters, he may do
so once, but he will have no second chance, I promise

you.”

“‘T expect to see these dogs of yours paragons. They
ought to be such, by all the trouble you take with them.
I know no one who insists so much on doing every thing
ship shape.” :

“They are good dogs. The best broke dogs, to my
mind, that I have seen in this country; but this is no
fair opportunity to judge them. Their forte is high fast
ranging for quail; and they are going to be tried to-day,
in ground, and upon game, such as they never have
seen. But come; you seem to have finished that abomi-
nable coffee, so we had better get under way at once.
It is a wild, bad morning, and the birds will scarcely
lie; and if we want to make anything like a bag, we
shall have to fag hard for it.”

Thereupon, without further words, the two friends
took up their guns and got under way; Timothy follow-

112 AMERICAN GAME.

ing, game-bag on shoulder and cudgel in hand, the two
setters, just released from the chain, gambolling about
in the highest spirits and most admirable condition, as
was evineed by the moist coolness of their jet-black
noses, and the silky gloss of their deeply feathered
coats.

“There is a piece of wild meadow here, Charley,”
said Archer, pointing across a pair of bars to the right,
“ which, before the banks were broke, and the tide got in,
used to be the first in the country for spring shooting.
There are a good many birds in it now, I dare say, for it
has got plenty of covert, and they will seek covert in
such a wind as this.”

“Let us try it, then, if you say so.”

“Tt is most infernal walking, but it wont do to stick
at trifles. So here goes,” and suiting the action to the
word, he strode across the fence, and at the first step
was mid-leg deep in a soft rust-colored sludge, half
semi-liquid mud and half semi-decomposed vegetable
matter. A few floundering strides through this Sirbo-
nian bog, brought them to drier, if not sounder ground,
which was, in truth, even harder walking than before,
as the soil was here so tenacious that it was difficult to
draw the leg out of the mire, into which it sunk ankle
deep. In places, this was covered by high reeds, stand-
ing wide apart, with splashes of shallow water covering
the surface, and here the bottom was harder; in others,
a rank, short, rushy grass, which had probably been

SNIPE-SHOOTING. 1138

burnt over, some two years before, grew thick and mat-
ted on the loose rotten soil, through which, every few
yards asunder, soaked little rills of nearly stagnant
water, indicated more by the blackness and ooziness of
theix muddy channels, than by any visible stream or
current.

The setters looked at one another wistfully, and then
at their master, as if they wondered what the deuce they
were expected to do in such ground as that, and when
at length in obedience to his “hold up, good lads!” and
the wafture of his hand to the right and left, they broke
off, and began to quarter their ground steadily and
beautifully, crossing each other in regular diagonal
lines; they did not beat at their usual dashing gallop,
heads up and sterns down, as they would have done,
had they been beating for quail, but felt their way, as it
were, gingerly and fearfully, keeping at a trot, though
they whipped their flanks all the time with their
feathery sterns, and often putting down their noses, as
if to seek for some strange trail or scent.

“Upon my lite! Harry,” said his friend, “if it were
not impossible, I should believe that those dogs know as
well as we do, that they are after some game to which
they are unaccustomed to day.”

“ Know it! of course they know it! Why, if we had
been upon stubbles, they would have ranged the whole
of this piece, before this time. Ha! Bob—toho!” he
exclaimed, as a snipe sprung directly under the black

114 : AMERICAN GAME,

dog’s nose, who went on without taking the least notice
either to stand or to chase—“Toho!” and at the word,
the staunch brutes both came to a stand, irresolute of
course, and uncertain, as a stand always must be, when
dogs do not know what they are upon, but still, without
a forward motion, after the word met their ears. But,
even as he shouted, Harry pitched up his gun to his eye,
literally drawing the trigger as it rose, so that it was
discharged the instant the butt struck his shoulder—for
-the bird had sprung wild, at least twenty yards off, in
the first instance, and the wind blowing very fresh, in
cold squalls, had gone away, as if ‘the devil drove,” di-
rectly in the teeth of the north-wester, zigzaging it with
all his wings, and reiterating his sharp squeak, as if in
triumph. But there was a quick eye, and nimble finger
behind, and a gun, that if held straight, was wont to tell
a tale; and when he had got some five-and-forty yards
away, the strength of the charge struck him full, and
sent him, doubled up like a rag, some six yards further
forward. At the report, as is very often the case, in
snipe shooting, a second bird, which would have skulked
and allowed them to pass him, jumped up within three
feet of Archer’s toe, and wheeling half round him to
get the wind, was cut down, completely riddled, before
he had flown ten paces. At the second shot, the mead-
ow seemed literally alive with birds, some thirty or
forty rising one by one, between the young men and the
dogs, most of them in front of the Baltimorean, and

SNIPE-SHOOTING. 115

going away, scape, scaipe, scaipe, scaipe, as who should
say, “deuce take the hindmost,” to the north-westward,
ever as they flew and squeaked, calking up fresh legions
over the wide flat, until there must have been above a
hundred snipe in the air at once.

At these, Charley did his work well, keeling a brace
over, very neatly, one of which fell within a yard of
Bob’s nose, who had gone down to charge without being
bidden, the moment the report of the first shot followed
the flash. The steady dog snuffed a little, and wagged
his tail, but did not stir, though to increase the tempta-
tion, the snipe, which was only wing-tipped, after turn-
ing some twenty consecutive somersaults under his nose,
made several ineffectual efforts to rise, springing four or
five feet into the air, and screaming “ scape,” a qui micue.

“ Wonderfully steady, indeed!” said Charley, in pro-
found admiration—wonderfully steady. But that was a
slashing shot of yours, that first one, Harry.”

“Yes! it was some, as Bill Porter would say. I
wanted to kill that chap for the dog’s sake, and would
not have missed him for a trifle. Ihad no idea there
were such a lot of them lying all around us. I never
saw so-many birds on the ground in my life; ifit were
a still, warm day, we should have rare sport. As it is,
we will make outa bag. All this has turned out capi-
tally. I would not be surprised, if you will give me five
minutes to work the dogs after my own fashion, to see
them stand the next bird, after we have retrieved these.”

116 AMERICAN GAME.

“Take your own time—I am ready. At all events, I
will say now that I never saw better-broke, or steadier
dogs.”

“ Now then, hold up, good lads,” cried Harry, waving
his hand to the dogs with a low whistle, and walking up
to them, he encouraged them, and cheered them, as he
made them find each one of the four dead birds, and
when found, let them scent and snuffle them as much as
they chose, and even mouth them gently. After that, he
laid them at a short distance before their noses, and cry-
ing “ toho !” made,them stand and back, several times in
succession. After this, he pocketed the birds, apologiz-
ing to his friend, as he came up, for having kept him
waiting.

“No need for an apology, Harry,” said he; “on the
contrary, [ am much obliged, for, like the dogs, I too
have been taking my lesson.”

“Well, forward, hold up lads!” and away they went
again, the dogs gathering courage as they drew, and
beating more boldly and carrying more head, as they
ranged forward, but still working much slower, and
more warily than they would havedone on quail. For
a while they found nothing, for all the birds had scat-
tered far and near, at the first disturbance of the feeding
ground. After a while, however, at the edge of some
tall flags in good springy feeding ground, Bob, who was
a little to the right, in front of Charley, dropped from
his canter into a slow trot, straightened his neck and

SNIPE-SHOOTING. 117

stern, and drew on in a straight line. “Look out, there
is a bird there !”

Scaipe ! scaipe! close under the dog’s nose he started,
and as he started, but not till then, Bob stood stiff. The
bird fell to Charley’s shot, was recovered, bagged,
and on they went, rejoicing. Five shots and no bird
missed.

The next rise was to Archer. Two snap shots, right
and left, birds which rose wide of the dogs. The first,
fell clean killed—the second, just grazed by the shot,
skated off, and pitched three hundred yards off. The
dead bird, Dinks pointed dead, in fine style, Bob back-
ing him. And twenty minutes after, the order was re-
versed, Bob finding the hurt bird, beautifully, and Dinks
backing eighty yards off. That bird took another shot,
but he came to bag. After that, all day long, the green
dogs worked like old hands, on their new game; before
afternoon, they were racing heads up and sterns down,
in their old fashion, and yet neither of them flushed
another bird all that day. Despite wind and weather,
the friends filled a heavy bag, and as they sipped their
peach brandy, by the fireside in the evening, Charley
said, laughing :—“ Well, Harry Archer, cowte gwil coute,
J will never doubt again, that well-broke dogs can be
made to point anything, or—nothing!”

“ And, is Bob a brute, now ?”

“ Dinks is the beauty, but Bob is the best; and that is

118 AMERICAN GAME.

not saying a little, for, on the whole, they ‘are the very
best brace I have ever seen together.”

“J thought that you would say so—and you have
had—”

“ A right good lesson on dog-breaking, so good night.”

‘snwULT wéquvT ‘SSVE AAdIULS AL

THE STRIPED BASS.

Labrax Lineatus.
THE ROCK FISH OF THE DELAWARE AND SOUTHWARD.

Tus noble and sporting fish, which is peculiar to the
continent of North America, was first, I believe, distin-
guished and defined by the late learned Dr. Mitchell,
of New York, though included by him in the division
Perea, in lieu of Labrax, to which jt has since been
more correctly attributed.

Dr. Smith, in his “Fishes of Massachusetts,” has
severely censured Dr. Mitchell for his distinguishing this
fish, and attaching to it his own name—pronouncing it to
“be a common tablé fish, known from time immemorial
all over Europe.” Dr. Smith, however, not Dr. Mitchell,
is the person in error; as the Striped Bass, Labrax Line-
atus, isa purely American fish, entirely distinct from the
common European Bass, Labrax Lupus, which very
rarely leaves the salt water, preferring to spawn in the
sea bays, rather than to run up fresh streams or rivers,

120 AMERICAN GAME.

though it is said to have been taken in the Tiber, between
the two bridges, by the ancient Romans.*

There is said to be a variety of this fish found in the
St. Lawrence, which is described as wanting the regular
distinctive lines of the Striped Bass, and is said to assume
amore spotty coloring; the spots, however, running in
regular lines, five above and five below the lateral line,
and somewhat resembling ancient church music, whence
it has been named by Lieutenant Colonel Smith, who has
done much for Canadian Icthyology, Zabrax Notatus.
The Striped Bass does not, it appears, run up the St.
Lawrence so far as Quebec; at least it is so stated by Dr.
Richardson, in his great work on Northern Zoology ; but
is commonly found, acccording to my friend, Mr. Pesley,
the accomplished fisherman and historian of those wa-
ters, in all the rivers of New Brunswick, which debouche
into the Gulf, where they afford fine sport with the large
scarlet Ibis fly, used for salmon-trout, with the smelt
as a trolling-bait, and with the clam, or a piece of lob-
ster—the latter a bait which I have never known to be
used in our waters, though from its similarity to crab,
which is in great request here at some seasons, its excel-
lence need not be doubted.

* Histoire des Poissons, cited by Richardson, Faunu Borcali Ameri-
cana. Ishould, however, entertain some doubt, if the identity of the
fish depends merely on the identity of the classic name, Lupus, with the
modern name—since the Latin Lupus is equally rendered Pike, which
is found in those waters. _

a

THE STRIPED BASS. 121

So far southward as the waters of the Chesapeake Bay,
they are found in abundance and of large size; and the
Falls of the Potomac is a much frequented spot for tak-
ing them. It is stated in “The American Angler’s
Guide,” that they are found also in the rivers and bays
of Florida. Such may be the case, though I have not
heard them named as southern fish, even so far as
Charleston Bay, to which Tautog have been recently intro-
duced, by friends of mine from that region of the United
States, while I have the sanction of that distinguished Ic-
thyologist, the late Mr. Dunbar, of New Orleans, for believ-
ing that few, ifany, of our northern species are common to
the southern waters, it being his decided opinion that the
Sheeps-head of the Gulf is a distinct fish from that of the
Atlantic coasts.

The Striped Bass is taken of all sizes, from a few
ounces, up to seventy or eighty pounds, which may be set
down as hismaximum weight. He is of the order Acan-
thopterygii, or thorny-finned fishes, having one or more
hard bony spines in advance of each of the soft-rayed fins.
Its gill-rays are seven in number; its dorsal fins consist
first of eight spines, second of one spine, thirteen soft
rays; the pectorals of sixteen soft rays; the ventrals of
one spine, five soft rays; the anal of three spines, twelve
soft rays; and the caudal of seventeen rays; the opercu-
lum serrated, suboperculum has two spines, partly con-
cealed by the membranes, no scales on the opercula.

The lateral line of the fish is nearly straight. It is
6 3

122 AMERICAN GAME.

~

covered with large scales of a metallic or nacrous lustre,
varying from reddish brown, with cerular and greenish
reflections on the back, to the brightest silver on the
belly. It has eight, or sometimes nine longitudinal lines,
the fourth of which corresponds with the lateral line,
the first four running through the whole length of the
fish, the others becoming fainter and gradually dying
away, as they extend towards the tail. Heisa severe fish
of prey and very voracious, and is accordingly equipped
with a very powerful system of teeth, and his tongue is
rough, like a file, with innumerable rows of small thorn-
like teeth. Of all species, which may properly be called
sea-fish, the Striped Bass is, perhaps, that which most
affects fresh waters, for at an early season in the spring,
so soon as, or almost before they are clear of ice, he
begins to run up the rivers in pursuit of the smelt, to
which he is a cruel enemy and persecutor, and of the shad,
which he follows assiduously to their spawning places,
making sad havoc with the roe of the latter. _

Either of these, therefore—the smelt or spearling, or
any very white and glistening fish, or even a piece of
polished pearl or tin as a trolling bait, or in squidding
with a hand-line—and the shad roe, potted and salted so
as to preserve it, and attached to the hook with a needle-
full of yellow silk, as a bottom bait, in rapid scours over
gravelly ground, will be found exceedingly fatal baits.
It is worthy of remark, however, that except in the
spring season, and in rivers up which shad and smelt

THE STRIPED BASS. 123

are known to run, or on serf beaches, and in sea bays, it
will be worse than useless to use either, especially the
latter.

In surfs, striped Bass will take the artificial squid,
mistaking it for the Spearling, Athernia Menidia, the
Sand-lance, or other small fry on which they feed; and
in tide ways, such as Hell-gate and the numerous pas-
sages in that vicinity, they are frequently taken in great
numbers, and of very large size, with that hideous ma-
rine reptile, the living squid.

In the early spring, and in general water, shrimp are
probably the most killing bait, shad roe excepted, for
rivers frequented by that fish. When crabs begin to
shed they may be used indiscriminately with shrimp;
the latter to be fished with from one to three feet from
the bottom, with a float and light sliding sinker. In the
early autumn, crab on the bottom is preferred by many
anglers ; and in some water the soft clam is very suiccess-
ful; but in swift streams, where the water is fresh, no
bait, to my fancy, equals any bright, glittering fish,
spearling, minnow, killy-fish, what you will, at the end
of a hundred yards of clever trolling-line, with a bottom
of good, round single gut, two swivels, a No. 1 Limerick
through the tail, and a small perch hook through the
lip, and askilful hand to keep him glancing through the
ripples, life-like, till a ten-pounder strikes him with an
arrowy rush, and whistles away some seventy yards of
line off your ringing click-reel, before you know what

124 AMERICAN ‘GAME.

yowre about—for he is a deuce of a run-away, is your
’ ten-pound Bass, when the barbed hook is in his jaws.
He has not so much resource as the Salmon, does not
often throw himself off the surface water, or strive to fall
on the tightened line and break it; neither have I seen
him run in often, if ever, upon the angler, or sulk at the
bottom. But I think his firstrush, if anything, is stronger,
and I am sure it is longer, than that of an equal salmon.
He will fight hard, for his time; but his time, providing
you keep a taught hand on him, make him work for
every inch of line, and mind not to let him smash you,

either against rocks on the bottom, or against piles or
stumps, the neighborhood of which he loves, and around

which he is sure to twist you if you let him, will not
be so long by twenty minutes, as a ten-pounder Salmon
on a fly, well played, with good tackle—without it you
have not a chance—and twelve minutes should have him
dead-beat, and halfdrowned, with the gaff in his glitter-
ing sides.

Fly-fishing is not certain for Bass; when they are in
the humor to take, however, they give fine sport; and in
a fine spring morning, with a dark ruffle on the water, it
is worth the while trying. A salmon rod will be re-
quired for this sport, with a reel, of course; a single-gut
bottom, and any large, gaudy lake-fly; but none is, I
think, so killing as that made by the Conroys, especially
for the Black Bass of the lakes, Gristes Wigricans, an

entirely different fish, peculiar to the St. Lawrence

THE STRIPED BASS. 125

basin, but equally killing for this his congener. It has
four large wings, two of the Scarlet Ibis, and two of the
Silver Pheasant, with a scarlet chentl body. On the St.
Lawrence it is sure death.

Of squidding at night with hand-lines as thick as your
little finger, and a live squid of a pound’s weight at the
end of it, I speak not; for, although in the Harlem
River, in little Hell-gate, and about Hog Island, the fifty
and sixty pounders are taken in that fashion, it is much
harder work than fine sport ; and, as is the case, I think,
with most game fish, the largest neither give the most
sport to the fisherman on the hook, nor to the epicure on
- the board. The gamest fish for the one, and the most
delicate for the other, is the fellow that runs from seven,
or, by’r lady, five to ten pounds weight, and he will
work you on the line, or please you on the platter.

Of that size, boil him, and serve him with anchovy or
shrimp sauce and the squeeze of a lemon; or roast him,
stuffed with bread-crumbs, suet, sweet herbs, lemon peel,
and oysters, and basted with anchovy-butter, and if you
don’t say he’s good, you may take my best rod and line.

If he’s a little fellow, score his sides, pepper and butter
him, and boil him—or, if you’ve a lot of them, with a
bunch or two of silver Passaic eels, pork, onions, pota-
toes, oysters, &c., cut them in chunks, and make a
chowder of them, with the oysters on top, and don’t
forget to throw in a pint of dry champagne when it boils
up, or to think of Frank Forester, after the first plateful.

After the striped Bass has had his own fun with the

126 AMERICAN GAMI.

smelt and shad-roe, in the spring, he disappears from
among us for a time, having run up nearly to the head-
waters of his breeding streams, where he may deposit
his ova in the clear, cold aérated waters, running limpid
over yellow sands and bright pebbles, which are the best
suited to the reproduction of his species.

Soon after he has performed this duty, he returns, far
less reduced, I know not wherefore, by the act of spawn-
ing, than other anadromous fishes; and, thereafter,
during the hot months of midsummer, and the earlier
part of autumn, he is to be found in the estuaries, and
the silver-flashing surges of our outer beaches, where he
is taken in great abundance by the amphibious popula-
tion of those regions, with the squid and hand line.

Later in the autumn, he again rushes up the rivers,
partly in pursuit of his prey, and partly, it is supposed,
from dislike to the tumultuous seas, produced by the
winter storms ; since it cannot be, as was once imagined,
in avoidance of cold that he winters in fresh water, for
it is ascertained that salt water maintains the highest
temperature. In the rivers, however, it is, or rather in.
the lagoons and shallow bays at their mouth, that he
passes the cold season, lying in a half torpid state on the
mud at the bottom; nor even here is he safe, at least in
northern regions, for Mr. Perley states that he is easily
distinguished in the shallow waters, through the clear,
newly-tormed ice, which is speedily cut through, and
friend Labrax fished up in scoop-nets by the Micmacs and
Milicetes, no slight addition to their frugal winter fare.

V.
MAY.

Ghe American Brook Grout,
Salino Fontinulis,

NORTH AMERICA; LABRADOR TO THE PACIFIC.

Che Brent Goose.

Anas Bernida.

Salmo Fontinalis

THE BROOK-TROUT.

THE BROOK TROUT.
Salmo Fontinalis.

Tus merry month of May is the month of all others
dear prescriptively to the trout-fisher. In England, it has
been for centuries admitted the sweetest and the fairest
month of spring; the month “where sweets compacted
lie, the union of the earth and sky.” ‘Poets have sung
it, and traditions hallowed it; and, from the old day,
when the hoary druids culled with their golden hooks
the sacred mistletoe, and the young maidens were astir
before the morning star, to gather maydew in the
flowery meadows, even to this hard, real, unideal nine-
teenth century, the month of May has a character of its
own, not with young lovers only, but with the world in
general, different from that of any other of the twelve
changeful cycles, and differently hailed of men.

In England, as I have said, it is the sweetest, with us
in America it is the first, I had almost said the only
month of spring. For, in our western hemisphere, the

winter hangs so heavily, and lingers so late into the
6% .

130 AMERICAN GAME.

lap of summer, that in. good truth, in some years, we
have no spring at all; and in the most favorable seasons
the fierce and cutting north-easters of March, with thei
whirling snow-drifts, their pelting hail-stones, and thei
incessant scud of inky storm-clouds, render it the mos
hateful month of all the twelve, and to invalids the mos:
terrible and fatal. April succeeds; and if one genia.
day, with a soft breeze from the southward or south.
westward, and a glimpse or two of watery sunshine, cal]
the willow-buds to bursting, and a few, the earliest.
meadow-blooms to blowing; waken thé whistle of the
blue-bird among the-apple-boughs, and the chirrup of
the frog from the morasses, the next is sure to follow,
loaded with sheeted mists sullenly sailing westward
before a soul-searching and ice-cold gale from Labrador
or Greenland, and the promise of the year is not only
deferred, but, it may well be, nipped outright, for that
the earth has reposed rash faith in the fair but false-
seeming visage of the skies.

But, with May, if there be any vernal weather coming,
we have it present. The fury of the east wind, if not
quelled, is broken; and we shall have green leaves
rustling into breezy life, and warblers busy in the
orchards, brown thrushes vocal in the woodlands,
swallows skimming the pools and twittering in the
eaves ;. and last, not least, trout flashing through the
glassy ripples, as they spring fast and frequent to clutch

*

THE BROOK TROUT. 131

the insect food which come forth now so plenteously to
sport their little day in the warm sunshine.

Along the Atlantic coast, indeed, on Long Island, and
to the eastward, where, in fact, alone on the Atlantic
coast of the United States trout prevail, fishing is per-
mitted by law, and practised by sportsmen, long before
this, the true month of the fly-fisher. In March it com-
mences on the Island, where formerly was the finest
trout-fishing perhaps in all the country; but where the
streams are now whipped so severely, that, in spite of
stringent regulations lately resorted to—too lately—in
the vain hope of preserving them, the run of fish are
declining in size year after year, and a good day’s sport,
is fast getting to be a thing little to be expected, scarce
even to be hoped for. In March, the trout will rarely
look at the fly, and they are caught at this season for the
most part with the float and red, or brandling worm; on
bright, warm days, however, they will at times take the
artificial fly, and it is remarkable that very early in the
season they will rise at a bright, gaudy fly, like nothing
in nature, which a month or two later they would prob-
ably reject with contempt. Two or three years ago, the
most killing early fly was a scarlet Ibis wing, scarlet silk
and gold twist body; but subsequently it has failed so
generally, as to have fallen into some sort of disrepute.
The flies especially recommended for this month, imita-
tions of the natural insects, are the red fly, blue dun,

-red spinner, great dark dun, cow-dung fly, March brown,

132 AMERICAN GAME.

or dun drake} and great red spinner; and any of these
are well-proved and successful flies in England; but in
this country the fact is, that even in the warmest regions
in which the American brook-trout is found, the natural
fly of any kind is scarcely on the water at all at this
season; and that one is just as likely as the other.
April brings the golden dun midge, the sand fly, the
stone fly, the grannom, or green tail, the yellow dun, the
iron-blue dun, the jenny-spinner, and the hawthorn fly.
The third, fourth, and fifth of which will be found very
tempting during the whole period of spring fishing; as
will also, or perhaps I should say, more so, the yellow
May dun, the black gnat, the downhill fly, the Turkey
brown, little dark spinner, yellow Sally, fern fly, or
soldier, alder fly, and green and gray drake, which may
be regarded as particularly, according to the doctrin-
aires, the flies of the month. I confess that I am not
myself a believer in the use of particular flies, for par-
ticular months or seasons, except as regards particular
waters; and, in fact, such an application is utterly
impossible in a country of the extent of the trout-fishing
region of North America ; where the months and the
very seasons differ by twenties and forties of degrees.
The trout-fishing region of North America may be said,
generally, to extend from, Nova Scotia and Lower
Canada, eastward to the feeders of Lake Superior on the
west, and from the extreme northern seas to the Atlantic
coasts, eastward of the Hudson. Westward of that

THE BROOK TROUT. 133

river, they are scarcely found south of the Alleghany
ridges, nor in the Western States south of the Great
Lakes, or west of Michigan, until we reach the Pacific
watershed.* Now, as this district extends over not less
than thirty-five degrees of longitude from east to west,
by fifteen of latitude from north to south, it must be
obvious that no general rules can be adopted which shall
be applicable to the whole of that vast tract. In the
British provinces, and Lower Canada, the rivers are not
clear of thick ice until the end of April or early in
May ; and in the western country, on Lakes Huron and
Superior, the season, if any thing, is later. On Long
Island, in May, trout-fishing is nearly at an end; on the
Callicoon, the Beaverkill, and the various tributaries of
the upper Delaware and Susquehanna, it is then begin-
ning, and is shortly after in its perfection. On the
superb lakes and streams of Hamilton county, New
York, and of the North Eastern States, June is the
month par excellence ; and probably, for those who can
endure the pest of the black fly and black midge, there
is no such fishing in the world, for extent of water, quan-
tity, and size of fish, and loveliness of scenery, as the
former locality can afford to those who are bold enough

* In the Western and Southern States several different fish, in nowise
connected with the trout, nor belonging to the same family salmo, are
known as trout. The fish so called from South Carolina, southward, is
a variety of the Squeteague or wheat fish, Ofolithus Carolinensis—that
misnamed trout in the West is a species of fresh water bass, or corvina.

-

134 AMERICAN GAME.

to defy the plague of flies, and rough it. At the Sault
St. Marie, the outlet of Lake Superior into Lake Huron,
where the St. Marie, a river above a mile wide, rushes in
a sheet of glancing and foaming rapids, down a descent
of some twenty-four feet in about a mile, literally alive
with the most magnificent brook-trout, by far the largest,
in the general run, of any taken in America, the season
does not begin until very late, and the fishing is not con-
sidered to be in its prime until September. The fish
here are of the finest quality, for size, beauty of color-
ing, and excellence of flesh. From two to three pound
may be considered, J think, as about the average run of
fish, but five and six pounders are by no means rarities ;
and it is on record that one fish a little exceeding ten
pounds, and many exceeding nine, were brought into
the American fort by the Indians, a premium having
been offered for a ten-pounder. These, I wish it to be
particularly observed, are not lake trout of any variety
—several species of which are found in the same waters
—but the genuine red-spotted brook-trout, with pink
sides and silver belly, and tricolored fins, white, black,
and red, when in high season. It differs in nothing,
‘except size and brilliancy of tints, both the result of
feeding and quality of water, from the famous Long
Island trout of Snedecor’s and Carman’s, or from the
small fry, scarcely bigger than minnows, which swarm
in every rocky basin of every mountain brooklet from

THE BROOK TROUT. 135

Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont, to upland Penn-
sylvania.

The fishing at the Sault St. Marie is difficult, because
itis practiced from that, to one unaccustomed to its use,
most ticklish of all vessels, a birch-bark canoe, poled by
an Indian up the foaming rapids, or guided down them,
and held steady from time to time in the most favorable
spots. Where, however, the angler is so well accustomed
to his conveyance as to be able to balance his body
without bracing it, and move his arms without danger
of upsetting the canoe, the sport is admirable, the scene
enchanting, and the fun vastly enhanced by the touch .
of romance and possibility of danger, which, however,
with a good Indian at the pole or paddle, amounts to no
more at most than a possibility. The best rod to use in
this powerful and tumultuous torrent is a tolerably stiff
fourteen foot fly-rod; the water isso much broken, that
tackle may be used which, from its coarseness, would be
quite out of the question in fine and clear waters; and
the most killing flies are large and moderately gaudy
lake flies. Such as are used on the Irish lakes I prefer
to the very fancy-colored flies which are often used on
the Hamilton county waters, and the very best assort-
ment of these I have ever seen, were tied by my friend
“ Dinks,” of Canada West, who has proved them mur-
derous in that locale.

It must, of course, be evident, that in a paper limited
in length such as this, it is utterly impossible to go at

136 AMERICAN GAME.

length into a subject so intricate and so full of details,
as the habits and nature of trout, their haunts, habita-
tions, and all the various devices for taking them which
have been invented by the ingenuity of man.

Of fresh water fish, they have been in all ages consid-
ered the best on the board; and, as fish of game, none
except others of their own family, such as the salmon,
the salmon-trout, the grayling, and one variety of the
lake-trout, are worthy of comparison to them; bold,
active, and fierce in pursuit of their prey, voracious in
their appetites, so cunning and quick-sighted that they
can be deceived only by the finest of tackle, and the
most exquisite imitations of the flies on which they feed
by preference ; so vigorous, determined and savage in
their resistance to the hook after being struck, that they
can be mastered only by a rare combination of science
and skill, of delicacy dnd firmness, of perseverance and
resources; the capture of the brook-trout with the arti-
ficial fly and single gut, or single horse-hair, which must
be had recourse to where the streams are fine and the
fish shy, is the very ne plus ultra, and has ever been so
indisputably admitted, of the anglers’ art. The imple-
ments are a light twelve-foot rod, very pliable and
springy, and bending on a strain, in an even curve from
the second joint to the tip—I prefer a solid butt, which
gives more power in leverage and resistance against a
strong run-away fish, and the spare tips can be carried
in the handle of the landing-net, or gaff—a good click

THE BROOK TROUT. 137

reel, by no means a multiplier, thirty lines of good hair,
or hair and silk line, with a casting line of the best gut,
about four and a half or five feet in length, and two or
three casts of flies, twisted round your hat, each having
a different fly for the dropper, to be changed, accordingly
as you find fish in the humor to rise.

My own favorites are the marlow buzz, better known
as the coch-a-bonddlue; silver-horns, black and silver
twist hackle, the green and gray drakes, the yellow
Sally, the downhill fly, woodcock wing, and red hackle,
the grannon, or green tail, the blue and yellow dun flies,
and almost any of the spinners. I am also rather par-
tial to the buzz-dressed, unwinged hackle flies of almost
any color, with red, green, black or yellow bodies, which
may be varied with gold or silver twist. Any of these
I can recommend by experience as killing flies ; I should
not omit the small black midge, which on some waters,
and in some states of weather, is a most killing lure to
wary fish, being very small, and requiring delicate tackle.
Where waters are much fished, and trout so much per-
secuted as to be very shy of rising, sport may sometimes
be had by fishing at twilight with a large white miller,
white hen’s wing, white chevil body and black head,
and as the largest and laziest, and, of course, fattest fish
rarely pursue their prey in the day time, but are on the
feed all night, if any sport is to be had at all in this
manner, it is nearly certain to be good sport.

Large trout-may be killed thus in the upper Delaware,

138 AMERICAN GAME.

along the line of the Erie railroad, where the country
people will tell you that there are go trout in the river,
though the small creeks are full of them. The truth is
the fish in the river are very much fewer in number, but
as much superior in size and weight. They who, like
me, prefer to kill a one, two or three-pounder to ten
dozen fingerlings of four or five ounces each, are advised
to try the miller by dusk or by moonlight, and if there
be a big fellow about, he is pretty sure to be-tempted.

The trout does not, when feeding, travel or swim in
shoals; he lies in wait in his own peculiar haunt, and
thence strikes at whatever he sees passing that tempts
his appetite. This haunt is generally in the neighbor-
hood of a stone or root, near the head or tail of a rapid,
in an eddy or swirl of the current, or in the broken wa-
ter caused by the division of a current above the head
of an island or shoal, and its reunion below it. Here
they lie with the head up stream, perfectly motionless,
not even wagging a tail or twinkling a fin, until their
object is in view, and then darting upon it with speed
that mocks the eye. They are insensible to sound, but
so quick of sight, and so wary that the mere shadow of
the rod projected across the water will prevent their
taking a fly, however hungry they “may be, and how-
ever skillfully the lure may be presented.

It is better to fish down stream, away from the sun,
and across the wind, if possible; but the three contin-
gencies are not always compatible. When a trout is

THE BROOK TROUT. 139

rising often, endeavor to drop your fly directly in the
centre of the circle where he bells up, and if it alights
lightly and gently on the water, he will pretty certainly
take it. If he takes it just as it strikes the water, or
just as it is leaving it, when you are withdrawing it for
another cast—that is, when your line is perfectly straight
and tight, he will hook himself; otherwise it is neces-
sary to strike him, which is done by a very slight inde-
seribable inward turn of the wrist; when he is struck,
the great secret of playing and killing him is to make
him fight his hardest for every inch of line you give him,
never to give him one which he does not take, and to
miss no opportunity, when his run is over for the mo-
ment, and he is weakened, to reel in as fast as you may
without overstraining ; always endeavor to carry him
down stream, as the gills are so closed by the action of
the water, and his breathing.is impeded. If he is mak-
ing for a stone or piles whereon your tackle would prob-
ably be broken, or down a fall, so that you must turn or
lose him, advance your butt, inclining your rod quite
backward over the right shoulder, so as to make him
take the full strain and leverage of the whole length of
your rod; when he is dead beat, draw him warily and
gently into the shoal water, or to your boat side, slip
your landing-net under, or your gaff into him, and he
is yours.

If he be above two pounds weight, stun him with a
blow on the head, crossing by a series of cuts parallel to

140 AMERICAN GAME.

the gills, at about two inches apart from head to tail,
cool him for ten minutes in a very cold spring, or on ice,
boil him in screeching hot salt and water, and eat him
with no condiment but salt and the squeeze of a lemon.

If he be under a pound, there is nothing for it but to
fry him, but remember to use neither butter nor lard,
which are abominations to the gnostic, but the best oil
of Aix, and see that the oil is seething and the pan crack-
ling hot before you put them in. Garnish with fried
parsley on a very hot dish; and in whichever way you
cook them, eat them—whenever you can get them, that
is to say, between March and September—in the north-
west you may substitute for the last November; on the
third of which month, last season, I discoursed sundry
in prime condition, at mine host Brown’s, on the Sault
St. Marie; and the taste is scarce out of my mouth yet.
T have tasted nothing like them since, or expect to do so
until next September, when, the wind and weather-gods
permitting, I hope to wet a line there; in the Fly-fisher’s
true Paradise. And may you have, whoever you be,
gentle reader, and wheresoever you throw the long line
and neat fly, such sport as I anticipate.

‘wwe souy “INVUE TL ' Asoo) INI AHL

THE BRENT GOOSE.

THE BRANt.—Anas Bernicha.

Tats beautiful and delicious wild-fowl, like several of
its congenors which breed within the limits of the Arctic
Circle, is common to both continents of Europe and
America, and is with us in the northern Atlantic states
perhaps the most numerous, and certainly the most
esteemed, whether as an object of sport or an article of
food, of the varieties of this family, which are common
upon our coasts. To the Canada Goose, or Wild-Goose,
as it is more usually termed, Anas Canadensis, it is uni-
versally, and not undeservedly, preferred ; although, in
my opinion, the former is itself entitled to a. far higher
place than is generally assigned to it among the water-
fowl of America. The Snow-Goose, Anas Hyperboreus,
and the White-Fronted Goose, Anas Albifrons, are so
rare that opportunities seldom occur of testing their com-
parative excellence. In England I once tasted the latter
fowl, and found it scarcely distinguishable from the Grey
‘Lag, or common Wild-Goose of Europe, Anas Anser,

142 AMERICAN GAME.

which in my opinion is inferior both to the Canada and the
Brent Goose; and though I have heard the Snow-Goose
highly lauded for its delicacy and juiciness, I believe we
shall do no injustice io any in declaring the Brant, facile
et nullo discrimine princeps.

It is worthy of remark that the habits of this bird are
greatly different in England and in this country, inasmuch
as there they.are stated “to spend the winter months in
the rivers, lakes and marshes in the interior parts, feed-
ing materially upon the roots and also the blades of the
long, coarse grasses, and plants which grow in the wa-

.” Were they are entirely marine birds, frequenting

ter.
the outer estuaries of the large rivers, the land-locked
lagoons or sea bays, which lie between our outer beaches
and the shores proper of the continent, for so many de-
grees of latitude along our Atlantic seaboard, and never,
so far as [know or have heard, entering our rivers proper,
or being ‘killed in any fresh inland waters. So
strongly is this peculiarity marked in the Brent Goose,
that when they leave their feeding-crounds to the
northward, compelled by stress of climate in winter, for
lower latitudes, and again when they take their depart-
ure for the Arctic regions, impelled

creandse *

Prolis amore, gravique cupidine nidificandi,

* By the affection for the young which they are about to rear, and
the urgent desire of nidification—Lucretius on Brent Geese.

THE BRENT GOOSE. 148

“they collect,” says Wilson, “in one large body, and
making an extensive spiral course, some milés in diame-
ter, rise to a great height in the air, and then steer for
the sea, over which they uniformly travel; often making
wide circuits to avoid passing over a projecting point of
land. In these aerial routes, they have been often met
with many leagues from shore, travelling the whole night.
Their line of march very much resembles that of the
Canada Goose, with this exception, that frequently three
or four are crowded together in front, as if striving for
precedency.” :

To such a length is this terror of the land passage car-
ried by the Brent Goose, that no doubt can be, I think,
reasonably entertained that, in order to avoid it, they
make the whole of their vast migration, to and fro, from
their breeding-places hither, and eéce versa, in direct con-
tradiction to the custom of their congenors, the Canada
Geese, which travel from point to point, in direct lines,
directed by an instinct certain as the compass, and travel-
ling the boundless wildernesses and vast inland waters
of the northern territories, and the cultivated regions
which intervene between those and their winter haunts
on the seashores of the Atlantic, with unrivaled speed
and unerring sagacity. A pretty certain proof of this is
to be found in the fact, that on the northern shores of
Lakes Huron and Superior, and-in the small rice lakes
adjoining them, although abounding in their favorite
food, the eel-grass, and frequented in myriads of millions

144 AMERICAN GAME.

by the Canada Goose, on the breaking up of the ice in
spring, and again at the setting in of winter, the Brent
‘Goose is unknown both to the Indians and to the white
settlers ; nor are they known about the yet more north-
erly forts of the Hudson’s Bay Company—short of the
Bay itself, where they abound—who regard the Canada
Goose as one of the principal, if not the chief article of
their subsistence. ~

The breeding place of the Brent Goose is very far to
the north, though not so far as that of the Wild-Goose,
which is supposed, not without reason, to rear its young
and pass the brief*days of summer of the Arctic Circle
in the regions of the Pole itself, while the Brent has been
found on its nests in Labrador, to the northward of Hud-
son’s Bay and in Boothia Felix. Here, fearless of the
ambushed gun, and the murderous battery, it revels dur-
ing a few short months in those to it delightful solitudes,
occupied with the charms of love, and the cares of rear-
ing its young. It does not, however, tarry long in its
northern asylum, as it is usually looked for in the Long
Island waters, and at Barnegat, Egg Harbor, and other
shooting stations on the Jersey coast, early in October,
and has been seen so early as the 20th of September. Its
* stay in these places is uncertain, depending very much on
the nature of the season, often remaining, if it be open
weather, during nearly the whole of the winter, while
on the contrary, if the bays are frozen early, it at once
towers aloft and takes its way southward. It seems, how.

THE BRENT GOOSE. 145

ever, to come southward continually by successive partial
migrations, until the freezing of the feeding-grounds
compel it to march southwardly.

The food of the Brant is principally the eel-grass, Zos-
tera Marina, wherever that favorite dainty of all the
aquatic tribes is to be found in plenty, and a broad-leaved,
bright green marine plant, called by the country people
sea-cabbage, which adheres to the stones on most of our
beaches. After these it never dives—although it is
remarkable that when wing-tipped it is the most dexter-
ous of the family, often going a hundred yards or upward
under water, and being therefore regarded as almost
impossible to kill,if not shot dead outright. At low wa-
ter it wades about incessantly, tearing up its favorite
vegetables by the roots, but neglecting to eat them until
they are floated away with the rising tide, when it does
not take wing, as most wild-fowl, but floats away idly in
long lines with its companions, in pursuit of its now
floating dainty, and fares sumptuously on the proceeds
of its previous industry. They are not unpugnacious
birds, being often seen fighting among themselves, and
beating the ducks away from their feeding-grounds ; their
ery is a hoarse, gabbling, honking sound, very different,
however, from the honk of the Wild-Goose, and by far
more difficult to imitate, and is said closely to resemble,,
when several hundreds are screaming together, the cho-
rus of a pack of hounds in full cry.

On their return from the south, with renovated powers,
og

‘

146 AMERICAN GAME.

in fall, lusty health, rejuvenated, and exulting in the ap-
proach of their summer love-making, they are in their
full perfection of plumage, and their utmost excellence
for the table. There is no Long Islander, and few Jer-
seymen, who are not fully awake to the preéminent merits
of 4 May Brant—for it is about the fifteenth of that
genial month, when they for the first time reappear
among us, the youth of the past year now in full adult
plumage, and not to be distinguished from the adults.
They tarry, however, at this period but for a few days,
ere they are again up and off to the northward; still so
eager are their pursuers at this season, that short as is
their stay the havoc made among them is yet not incon-
siderable.

At this season the Brant weighs about four pounds,”
and measures two feet in length from bill to tail, and
three feet six from tip to tip of the extended wings. The
bill is black, rather high at the base, the nostril medial.
The head, and the whole length of the neck, with the
exception of a white oblong patch on either side of the
throat, rich velvety black; front part of the breast cine-
rious brown, each feather broadly margined with grayish -
-white. The upper parts blackish brown, each feather
margined with lighter brown; sides gray, margined with
white ; abdomen and vent pure white; quills and pri-
mary coverts dark blackish gray. Rump and middle
tail feathers black, rest of the tail grayish white. Irides
hazel; legs dusky. The female is smaller than the male,

THE BRENT GOOSE. ‘4147

but not to be distinguished from it by any mark of the
plumage; the young birds have the wing quill feathers
broadly tipped with white, while in the old birds they
are purely black.

There is a variety of this fine goose, pretty well known
on Long Island, the true name of which is Hutchins’
Goose, or Hutchins’ Brant; it is somewhat smaller, and
in lieu of the lateral white throat patches, has a white-
gorget a good deal similar to that of the Canada Goose.

We now come to the modes of killing this delicious
bird, of which there are four; three of them, me judice,
utterly unallowable, cockney and pot-hunter like, and the
fourth unhappily the least profitable to the gunner,
although the Brent Goose has one habit which may be
used to some advantage in this the only legitimate mode.

That mode is the scooping out a niche from the muddy
side of some island, or point of hassock, kussick, or thatch,
as it is called in the bays, and therein mooring a skiff, or
Egg Harbor boat, with its decks heaped with trash and
sea-weeds, the gunner lying on his back therein, with his
two heavy guns prepared for a passing flock, and his
decoys scattered over the calm waters in front of him,
when’ if a fleck chancé to pass, and,-observing the
anchored deceits, wheel down to them, he is secure at
once of sport, and of after excitement in pursuing and
picking up the cripples. :

The disadvantages to this method are the following:
First, the Brant is on our waters a lazy, inactive bird,

148 AMERICAN GAME,

averse to rising on the wing, and rarely doing so unless
alarmed by a passing boat or the firing of a gun; and
this tendency is increased in consequence of its feeding
afloat at high water, without taking the wing at all,
while the other varieties of wild-fowl, as point after point
is successively submerged, are compelled to take wing,
and cross the points of hassock, or run the gauntlet of
the islands in going to or returning from his favorite feed-
ing place.

Second, the known aversion of this bird to pass over
or near points or islands, which is no less manifest in its
‘transits up and down the bay, than in its longer voyages,
for it may be said that it never when on the wing ap-
proaches the gunner’s ambush, or notices his decoys,
however temptingly they may ride and dip at anchor,
when near the land, unless they be jammed down by the
wind upon a leeward point, one of which is always se-
lected by the best gunners who have watched the direc-
tion of their morning transit, and who know how they
must return. This difficulty is but partially compensated
by the habit of the Brant of occasionally swimming in
among the stools, and so affording an easy and sure shot.
There is another fact, however, which, as I said above,
may be made directly subservient to this sport, and thus
it is—Brent Geese, while feeding, as they drift about at
high water, may be herded like so many sheep, and
caused to swim in any direction desired, and may be so
driven down upon the decoys, for which they are almost

THE BRENT GOOSE. 149

sure to make, by rowing round and after them slowly,
taking especial pains not to press their motions or crowd .
upon them so as to compel them to take wing, when of
course, all would be over. The confederate of the gun-
ner should therefore be wary and watchful, as well as
‘ skillful with the oar, and whenever he observes the fowl
he is driving, hurrying and getting anxious, and pressing
into one compact body, he must lie on his paddles en-
tirely, until he sees his game resume their feeding or
play, when he may again take the initiative. This,
well done, is sure to produce good sport, time, tide,
weather and good luck agreeing, without which, neither
in Love, War, or Brant Shooting can success be looked
for.

Let me commend this method to my friend, the true
and honorable sportsman, who would rather return home
at night weary and cold, and with an empty bag or boat,
than come loaded to his gunwale with booty obtained by
any indirections, such as those which I shall be forced
to name hereafter, though with maledictions on the
inventors, and disgustful contempt for the practicers of
them, as methods of Brant-murdering.

Let me remind the sportsman that this kind of shoot-
ing is practiced in very cold weather, in a motionless and
cramped attitude, and depriving him of the chance of
warming his limbs with exercise. He must, therefore, be
well and warmly clad, or he shall not be able to shoot

150 AMERICAN GAME.

tolerably, much less to enjoy himself or win renown, let
the flocks fly as full and frequent as they will.

The following dress I have found the best—those may
sneer who will, but I think, and they will find, when
their fortieth year brings crippling rheumatism, that itis
wisdom at all times to be as comfortable as one may, and
that it is no mark of manhood, but rather of very ‘con-
temptible folly, to lie cold and shivering, for the want of
a few precautions which may be easily taken, and will
make you as much at your ease as may be, in a Dela-
ware skiff or Egg-Harbor pig-box.

First, over your ordinary under-clothes wear a stout
pair of Canada-gray cloth trousers; over these a pair of
long worsted stockings, and over these again long pliable
Canadian boots. A red flannel shirt, and above that a
guernsey, with what waistcoat and shooting-jacket you
will, and over all an oil-skin coat, as near as may be of
the drab color of the sedge and hassock ; on your head a
woolen night-cap, and above it a gray tow hat; and—
though your rig may terrify into convulsions a young
New Yorker, with ends to his white choker longer than
the yard-arms of a first-rate—take my word for it, it will
not scare Brant, Goose, or Red-Head from your stools,
and it will keep ‘you , with the aid of a modicum of
cogniac, Jamaica, or Ferintosh, as your taste may incline,
cozy and good-natured, while your friend, who is too
manly to take counsel, is as cold and as cross as whatever
is most frigid and most fiendish.

THE BRENT GOOSE. 151

I recommend—for reasons why, too long here to set
forward,—see my Field Sports, vol. IL., p. 119—the use of
two single guns of 16 lbs. weight, 42 inch barrels and 5
guage, in preference to any double-barrel guns on earth
for this shooting. They should be made without ribs,
pipes or ramrods—a loose loading-rod, which is a clean-
ing-rod also, lying in the boat when in use, being adopted
as a substitute. This should be made with a joint at ex-
actly the léngth of the gun-barrel, so that it can be car-
ried within it when travelling ; the upper joint about 6
inches in length, screwing into the other, and fitted with
a knot at the top, like a pistol-charger, may be carried in
the pocket when in locomotion. Such a gun will carry
402. of BB, or twenty-five buck-shot, without jar or recoil ;
use equal measures of shot and Curtis and Harvey’s duck-
ing powder, to be procured of Brough, Fulton-street}
New York—and coarse felt punched wadding, and you
will do your work at eighty, ay, by’r lady! or one hun-
dred yards, and you will not repent you of following my
counsel.

The murderous modes, which I have so strongly repro-
bated, and to which I shall devote but a few words, are,
first, the anchoring batteries, as they are called, shallow
coffin-like boxes, supported by wide horizontal brims
lying level on the surface of the water, covered with
sand and shells, and exactly resembling a bit of bare shoal,
upon the shallows whereon the fowl feed. Decoys are
placed around, and an attendant waits in a skiff to secure

152 AMERICAN GAME. =

the cripples and drive up fresh flocks, while the gunner
lies perdu literally under water, until he starts up to do
bloody execution.

The evil of this method, (of the other two, which I
shall barely name, as they are far less practiced, one, I
believe, only at one point,) is, that fowl, when constantly
harassed and disturbed on their favorite grounds, while
in the act of feeding, will rise high into the air
and desert the places in which they are so wantonly

“tormented forever; whereas they may be peppered at
day by day for years, and decimated as they fly to and
fro without connecting the idea of the persecution with
the feeding grounds, and without increasing in shyness or
decreasing in numbers.

The second unsportsmanly and slaughterous plan is
running down upon them before the wind under sail,
while on their feeding grounds, which is easily done, as
the fowl appear wholly unable to distinguish the rate of
a sail-boat, and let it run closely in upon them before
they willtake wing. The havoc thus made is prodigious ;
the consequences as above, the permanent and entire de-
sertion of the spots where such brutalities are practiced.
The last is akin to these. It is a necessity to the Brant
to sand and dust themselves occasionally, and probably
to obtain small gravel-stones to aid their digestion, and
they have regular sanding places, as they are termed, to
which they punctually and constantly resort. This habit
observed, the pot-hunter digs his hole in the sand-hill,

THE BRENT GOOSE. 153

watches his time, and counts his slaughter by flocks, at
shots. Like the owner of the goose with the golden
eggs, he will find too late that he has killed his people as
Nero wished to do, at a single blow. Legislation has
been tried, against all these three cowardly iniquities,
and of course tried in vain. It rests to see what incul-
cating a spirit of sportsmanship may do; but I am little
sanguine, seeing that true sportsmanship, like the game
it fain would, but cannot, protect, decreases year by
year—many of those who boast themselves sportsmen,
and here an I would I could name names, doing deeds
the foullest pot-hunter would shrink from, and holding
themselves as high as ever in their own esteem, though
lower than the lowest in the judgment of the judicious.

Be this, however, as it may be, the only hope is in the
efforts of the honorable sportsman, and so let him hope-
ful ever of the best, hold the helm steady, steer on
through squall or hurricane, and never—whatever be-
tide—never give up the ship!

q*

JUNE.

Che Aed-breasted Snipe.

Scolopaw Novel oracensis.

ROBIN SNIPE, QUAIL SNIPE, DOWITCHER.
THE HUDSONIAN GODWIT.

Limosa Hudsonica,

RING-TAILED MARLIN.

NORTH AMERICA; LABRADOR TO THE GULF.

Che Salmon,

Salmo Salar.

LABRADOR; BRITISH PROVINCES; STATE OF MAINE,

Limosa Hudsonica,

THE HUDSONIAN GODWIT.

TIE ‘RED-BREASTED SNIPE. Scolopax Noveboracensis.

THE SNIPE.

THE HUDSONIAN Gopwir.—Limosa Hudsonica.
Vulgo. RING-TAILED MARLIN.

THE RED-BREASTED SNIPE.—Scolopax Noveboracensis.

Vulgo. ROBIN-BREAST, QUAIL SNIPE, DOWITCHER.

Unver the general, and very incorrect appellation of
Bay Snipe, and sometimes of Plover, the sea-shore gun-
ners, and city fowlers who accompany them for pleasure,
are wont to include many totally distinct and different
families of waders, each containing several varieties, and
all, though in some sort connected, entirely dissimilar in
characteristics, plumage, cry and flight, as well as in
some peculiarities of habit. ;

Of these families, the most remarkable are the Curlew,
numenius ; the Godwit, limosa ; the Sandpiper, tringa ;
the Tattler, totanus ; the Plover, charadrius ; the Snipe,
scolopax ; the Turnstone, strepsilas ; the Sanderling, ca-
lidris ; the Avoset, recurvirosta ; and the Stilt, hemanto-
pus ; all of which at some period of the year are visiters
or temporary inhabitants of some portion of the Atlantic

158 AMERICAN GAME.

shores of North America, from the Bay of Boston to the
Balize.

In the tepid waters of Florida, the great bay of Mobile,
the sea lakes of Borgne and Pontchartrain, and all along
the muddy shoals and alluvial flats of the lower Missis-
sippi, these aquatic races dwell in myriads during the
winter months, when the ice is thick even in the sea
bays of the Delaware and Chesapeake, and when all the
gushing streams and vocal rivulets of the Northern and
Middle States, are bound in frozen silence. In the
spring, according to the temperature of the season, from
the middle of April until the end of May, these migra-
tory tribes begin to visit us of the northern shores, from
the Capes of the Chesapeake, along all the river estua-
ries, sea bars, lagoons, and land-locked bays, as they are
incorrectly termed, of Maryland and Delaware, the Jer-
sey shores and the Long Island waters, so far as to
Boston Bay, beyond which the iron-bound and rugged
nature of the coast deters them from adventuring, in the
great flights with which they infest our more succulent
alluvial shores and sea marshes.

_ With the end of May, with the exception only of a few
loitering stragglers, wounded, perhaps, or wing-worn,
which linger after the departure of their brethren, they
have all departed, steering their way, unseen, at immense
‘altitudes, through the trackless air, across the mighty
continent, across the vast lakes of the north, across the
unreclaimed. and almost unknown hunting-grounds of

THE SNIPE. 159

the red man, to those remote and nearly inaccessible
morasses of the Arctic Regions whither the foot of man
has rarely penetrated, and where the silence of ages is
interrupted only by the roll ‘of the ocean surf, the thun-
derous crash of some falling iceberg, and the continuous
clangor of the myriads and millions of aquatic fowl, .
which pass the period of reproduction in those lone and
gloomy, but to them secure and delightful asylunis.
Early in the autumn, or, to speak more correctly, in the
latter days of summer, the Bay birds begin to return in
hordes innumerable, recruited by the young -of the sea-
son, which, not having as yet indued the full plumage
of their respective tribes, are often mistaken by sports-
men and gunners, unacquainted with the distinctions of
natural history, for new species. During the autumn,
they are much more settled and less restless in their
habits than during the spring visit, when they are im-
pelled northward by the irresistible estrwm, which at
that period stimulates all the migratory birds, even those
reared in confinement and caged from the nest, to get
under way and travel, whither their wondrous instinct
orders them, in order to the reproduction of their kind
in the localities most genial and secure.

Throughout the months of August and September,
they literally swarm on all our sand-bars, salt meadows,
and wild sea-marshes, feeding on the beaches and about
the shallow pools left by the retiring tide, on the marine
animalcule, worms, aquatic insects, small crabs, minute

160 AMERICAN GAME.

shell-fish, and fry; after this time, commencing from the
beginning of October, they move southward for winter
quarters, although some species tarry later than others,
and some loitering individuals of all the-species linger
behind until they have assumed their winter garniture,
. when they are again liable to be mistaken for unknown
varieties. ;

Of these misnamed Bay Snipe, the following are the
species of each family most prized by the sportsman and
the epicure, all of which are eagerly pursued by the
-gunner, finding a ready sale at all times, although, me
judice, their flesh is, for the most part, so oily, rank and
sedgy, that they are rather nauseous than delicate or
palatable. Much, however, depends on the state of
their condition, the nature of the food on which they
have fattened, and localities in which they feed; and
to some persons the very flavor of which I complain
as rank, sedgy and fishy, appears to take the guise of an
agreeable haut gout.

The Red-breasted Sandpiper, Zringa Icelandica,
known on the Long Island waters, among the small
islets of which it is very abundant, as the “ Robin
Snipe,” by which name it is generally called, owing to
the resemblance of its lower plumage to that of the Red-
breasted Thrush, or Robin, Zurdus migratorius, of this
continent. In autumn this bird assumes a dusky gray
upper, and white under plumage, and is then termed
the “ White Robin Snipe.” in point of flesh it is one of

THE SNIPE. 161

the best of the Shore-birds. It is easily called down to
the decoys by a well simulated whistle, and is conse-
quently killed in great numbers. :

The Red-backed Sandpiper, Zringa Alpina, generally
known as the “ Black-breasted Plover.” It is a restless,
active and nimble bird, flies in dense bodies, whirling at
a given signal; and at such times a single shot will fre-
quently bring down many birds. In October itis usually
very fat, and is considered excellent eating. In its
autumnal plumage it is generally known to fowlers as
the “ Winter Snipe.”

The Pectoral Sandpiper, Zringa pectoralis. This is a
much smaller, but really delicious species, particularly
when killed on the upland meadows, which it frequents
late in the spring and early in the summer, and on which
I have killed it lying well to the dog, which will point
it, while spring snipe-shooting. On Long Island it is
known as the “Meadow Snipe,” or “Short Neck;” on
the Jersey shores, about Ege Harbor, where it sometimes
lingers until the early part of November, it is called the
“Fat Bird,” a title which it well merits; and in Penn-
sylvania, where it occurs frequently, is often termed the
“ Jack Snipe.” It is these blunders in nomenclature,
and multiplication of local misnomers, which render all
distinctions of sportsmanship so almost incomprehensible
to the inhabitants of distant districts, and so perplexing
to the youthful naturalist. During the autumn of 1849
I killed the Pectoral Sandpiper in great numbers, to-

162 AMERICAN GAME.

gether with the. American Golden Plover, Charadrius
Marmoratus, and the Black-bellied Plover, Charadrius
Helweticus, on the marshes of the Awa Canards river,
near Amherstberg, in Canada West, in the month of
September, and a month later at Montgomery’s Pool,
between lakes Sincoe and Huron.

Of the Tattlers, three only are in repute as shore-birds,
the best of the species, the Bartramian Tattler, Zotanus
Bartranvius, better known as the “Upland Plover,”
which is, in fact, with scarcely an exception, the most
delicious of all our game-birds, being a purely upland
and inland variety, and as such never, or but extremely
seldom, shot on the coast.

These three are,

The Yellow-shanks Tattler, Zotanus Flavipes, vulgo,
* the lesser yellow legs”—a bird, in my opinion, of very
indifferent qualifications for the table, but easily decoyed,
and readily answering the fowler’s whistle, and there-
fore affording considerable sport.

The Telltale Tattler, Zotanus Vociferus, vulgo, “ great-
er yellow legs,” a less numerous species than the former,
and more suspicious. Its flesh, when it feeds on the
spawn of the king-crab, or “ Horse-shoe,” is all but un-
eatable, but later in the season it is in better condition,
and is esteemed good eating. A few are said to breed in
New Jersey. In the neighborhood of Philadelphia, where
these birds are shot in great numbers on the mud-flats
of the Delaware from skiffs, with carefully concealed

THE SNIPE. 163

gunners, stealthily paddled down upon them till within
close shooting distances, these birds are termed “ Plo-
vers,” and the pursuit of them plover-shooting ; of course
wrongfully. :

The last of this family is the Semipalmated Tattler,
Totanus Semipalmatus, universally known as the “ Wil-
let,” from its harsh and shrill ery, constantly repeated
during the breeding season, the last note of which is
thought to bear some resemblance to that sound. Itisa
swift, rapid and easy flyer, and. though rather shy when
in exposed situations, can be allured to the decoys.
When in good order the flesh of the Willet is very pal-
atable, although uot so greatly esteemed as its eggs,
which really are delicious.

Next to these come the Godwits, two in number,
known by the unmeaning title of Marlin.

The great Marbled Godwit, Zimosa Fedoa, the “Mar-

lin.”

This bird, though not very abundant, is a regular
visitant of the seashores and bays in the spring and au-
tumn. It is very watchful, and will permit of no near
approach, unless some of its fellows are killed or wound-
ed, when it will hover over the cripple, with loud, shrill
cries, affording an easy opportunity of getting several
barrels in succession into the flock.

And the Hudsonian Godwit, Zémosa Hudsonica, or
the “ Ring-tailed Marlin,” is a still rarer and smaller
variety than the last, of very similar habits and of equal
excellence in flesh. It is far more common in the Mid-

164. AMERICAN GAME.

dle States than in the Eastern districts, and is abundant
in the wild and barren lands far to the northward. I
have seen it shot, likewise, on the swamps of the Aus
Canards, to which I have already referred. This is the
larger of the three birds, lying uppermost, in the group,
at the head of this article; it was sketched from a fine
specimen shot on the Delaware in the month of May.
It is thus described by Giraud in his excellent work on
the Birds of Long Island :

“ Bill, blackish brown,-at base of lower mandible yel-
low; upper parts light-brown, marked with dull-brown,
and a few small, white spots; neck all round brownish-
gray ; lower parts white; largely marked with ferrugi-
nous ; basal part of tail-feathers and a band crossing the
rump, white. Adult with the bill slender, blackish-
brown toward the tip, lighter at the base, particularly at
the base of the lower mandible ; a line of brownish-white
from the bill to the eye; lower eyelid white. Throat
white, spotted with rust color; head and neck brownish-
gray ; lower parts white, marked with large spots of
ferruginous; under tail-coverts barred with brownish-
black and ferruginous ; tail brownish-black cast, a white
band at the base; a band over the rump ; tips of primary
coverts and basis of quills white; upper tail-coverts
brownish-black, their basis white; upper parts grayish-
brown, scapulars marked with darker spots; feet bluish.
Length fifteen inches and a half, wing eight and a half.

Among the various families of birds, which are all

THE SNIPE. 165

known, as I have stated, by the general title of Bay
Snipe, there is but one Snipe proper, and that is one of
‘the most numerous, and perhaps the most excellent of
the tribes.

The Red-breasted Snipe, Scolopax Moveboracensis—
the “ Dowitcher,” the “Quail Snipe,” the “Brown
Back.”

A brace of these excellent and beautiful birds are
depicted as thrown carelessly on the ground, under the
neck of the Ring-tailed Marlin in the preceding sketch.

This bird has the bill of the true snipe, Scolopaw Ame-
ricanus, excepting only that the knob at the tip of the
upper mandible of the bill is less distinctly marked. The
spring plumage of this bird, in which it is depicted
above, is on the upper parts brownish-black, variegated
with clove-brown, and light reddish-brown, the second-
aries and wing-coverts tipped and edged with white.
Lower parts bright orange colored ferruginous, spotted
with dusky, arrow-headed spots. The abdomen paler.
The tail-feathers and upper-tail coverts alternately bar-
red with black and white; the legs and feet dull yellow-
ish green.

“ At the close of April,” says Mr. Giraud, “the Red-
breasted Snipe arrive on the coasts of Long Island. _ In-
vited by a bountiful supply of food, at the reflux of the
tide, it resorts to the mud-flats and shoals to partake of
the rich supply of shell-fish and insects which nature in
her plenitude has provided for it. As the tide advances,

166 AMERICAN GAME.

it retires to the bog meadows, where it is seen probing
the soft ground for worms. In the spring it remains
with us but a short time.’ Soon after recruiting it obeys
the unerring call of nature, and steers for the north,
where it passes the season of reproduction. About the
middle of July it returns with its young, and continues
its visit during September, and if the season be open,
lingers about its favorite feeding grounds until the last
of the month.”

The specimens from which the above sketch is taken,
were procured on the Delaware so late as the latter part
of May; but it must be remembered that this spring,
1850, was unusually late and backward.

This snipe associates in large flocks, is very easily
whistled, flies in dense and compact bodies over the de-
coys, and is so gentle that, after half the flock has been
cut down by the volleys of the lurking gunner, the re-
mainder will frequently alight, and walk about demurely
among their dead companions and the illusive decoys,
until the pieces are reloaded, and the survivors deci-
mated by a fresh discharge.

Even when feeding on the open mud-flats, the Red-
breasted Snipe is so tame as to allow itself to be ap-
proached by the sportsman, with little or no address, run-
ning about and feeding perfectly unsuspicious, until its
enemy has come within short range, when it springs
with its tremulous cry only to be riddled with. the shot
of the close discharge.

THE SNIPE. 167

The other of these birds worthy of the most attention
-are,

The Sanderling, Calidris Arenaria, which, though
very small, is fat and excellent.

The Black-bellied Plover, Charadrius . Helveticus,
“ Bull-headed,” or “ Beetle-headed Plover,” a shy bird,
but frequently whistled within gunshot. On the coast
it is apt to be fishy, but when shot inland, and on upland
pastures, of superior quality.

The American Golden Plover, Charadrius Marmora-
tus, “the Frost bird;” a very beautiful species and of
rare excellence when killed on the upland, where it is
found more frequently and more abundantly than on the
shore.

The Long-billed Curlew, numenius Longirostris,
“Sickle-bill,” a large, coarse-flavored bird, easily de-
coyed.

The Hudsonian Curlew, numentus Hudsonicus, “ Short-
billed Curlew,” or “ Jack Curlew.” Similar to the lat-
ter in all respects, although smaller in size.

And last, the Esquimaux Curlew, numenius Borealrs,
“the Futes,” the “Doe Bird.” This bird feeds princi-
pally on the uplands, in company with the golden
plovers, and on the same food, videlicit, grasshoppers,
insects, seeds, worms, and berries. Its flesh is delicate
and high flavored. It breeds far to the north and win-
ters far to the south of the United States, residing with
us from early in August until late in November.

168 AMERICAN GAME.

With this bird, although there are numerous other
smaller species, the list of these tribes may be held
complete.

From the commencement of the present month until
late in the autumn, anywhere along the coasts and bays
of the Northern and Middle States a bag may readily be
filled to overflowing with these varieties by the aid of
good decoys and skillful whistling, or of a skiff paddled
by a cunning fowler; a gun of 8 to 10 pounds weight, of
12 guage, with two oz. of No. 5 shot, and an equal
measure of powder, will do the work. But when the
work is done, comparatively the game is worthless, and
the sport, as compared with upland shooting, scarcely
worth the having.

Salmo Salar

THE SALMON.

THE SALMON.

Salmo Salar.

Tas glorious fellow, who is admitted on all hands to
be the very king of fishes, as regards personal beauty,
strength, agility, and speed, as regards excellence upon
the table, and as regards the sport he gives to the vigor-
ous and skillful angler, is in this month in his prime of
health, vigor, and perfection, in all those waters of the
United States and British Provinces, wherein he still
exists. Within the limits of the former, on the Eastern
or Atlantic side of the continent, those waters are
confined to a few of the noble and limpid rivers in the
State of Maine from the Kennebec, eastward, and to one
or two large streams of Northern New York emptying
into the St. Lawrence. In the British Provinces of New
Brunswick and Canada East, all the waters, whether
emptying into the Bay of Fundy or the Gulf of St.
Lawrence, are literally alive with this noble predatory
fish, to such an extent that an accomplished fly-fisher,
temporarily resident in the first-named province, “ offer-

ed in 1850 to back himself, for any reasonable amount
8

170 AMERICAN GAME.

of bet, to kill with his own hand, three hundred salmon
in that river’—the N episiguit discharging its waters
into Bathurst Harbor—“ during the month of July next
ensuing.” I quote from a letter of my friend Mr. Perley,
the able and enterprising author of the “Sea and River
Fisheries of New Brunswick,” who adds, on his own
account, “ and with any reasonable luck as to weather,
would readily win his bet. He took last season, before
breakfast one day seventeen salmon; and I have heard
of thirty being taken in a day by indifferent fishers.”

Think of this, ye ambitious spirits, who casting deftly
the long line and the winged deceit, pride yourselves on
basketing your dozen or two of half-pound trout at
Snedecor’s or Carman’s on. the south side! Think of
this—thirty salmon in a day with the fly, and that by
indifferent fishers! Of a truth, the Nepisiguit, the Ris-
tigouche, and the Miramichi, must be the paradise ter-
restrial, or aquatic rather, of the fly-fisher; nor is it so
hard a region of attainment, for from Boston the good -
steamer Admiral plies weekly to the city of St. John,
and thence, on application to the good sportsman whose
name I have recorded above, the pilgrim in pursuit of
piscatorial glory, shall be right easily, and with a oo
will, forwarded upon his way.

But to return from this brief though not impertinent
digression, although the salmon is so well known to all
the dwellers of cities on the Atlantic coast as to require
no description, yet for the benefit of inland sportsmen,

‘

THE SALMON. 171

and those especially, who, residing on the Susquehanna
and the southern rivers generally, fancy that they possess
the salmon, in the glass-eye, or pike-perch, I shall
proceed to insert a brief description of this beautiful
glory of the rivers of all northern latitudes, alike on the
Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and on the northern seas of
Europe.

The salmon, fresh run from the sea, on his first
entrance into the estuaries of the fresh rivers, up which
he runs to deposit his spawn—of which more anon—is
perhaps the most perfect in shape of all animals, and the
most exquisite model of marine architecture in existence.

The proportions of one in perfect condition, and a
large fish, are thus given by Sir Humphrey Davy, him-
self an eminent and eager fly-fisher, as well as a great
naturalist and philosopher—the length 38} inches—the
circumference 21 inches, and the weight 22 lbs.

The head is small and sharpened, the body thence
increasing gradually to about two-fifths of its length, at
which point its girth is the greatest, with lines as shapely
and a curvature as evenly and gracefully swelling as
those of the entrance of the fleetest ship that ever
walked the waters. Thence aftward, like the run of the
same vessel, it tapers far more rapidly and sharply, the
narrowest point being at four-fifths of its whole length,
beyond which its broad, flat, deeply forked tail, the
rudder at once and propeller of this wonderful animated
rnachine, expands to a width all but equal to that of the

172 _ AMERICAN GAME.

broadest portion of the body. The consequence of this
exquisitely beautiful conformation is a combination of
vigor, swiftness, and power of resistance to the element
in which it exists equal to that of any known animal.
The dart of the salmon in pursuit of its prey,.or its
arrowy rush, on feeling the sting of the barbed hook, is
comparable to nothing but the velocity of the swallow
in the air. He runs up any rapids, it matters not how
swift, or steep, or strong, of the mightiest rivers; with
scarce an effort ; he leaps all obstacles, whether of mill-
dams or natural water-falls, not exceeding thirteen feet
in perpendicular height, as easily as a trained hunter
tops a quickset hedge; and, what is perhaps the most
astonishing proof of his wonderful muscular strength,
he can retain his station, head on in the teeth of a cur-
rent, against which the strongest swimmer would not
presume to struggle, motionless for many minutes
together, at the end of which a slight and scarcely per-
ceptible sweep of the powerful tail gives him, without
sending him forward, the power of retaining his position,
as before, for a similar interval of time.

When fresh from the sea, the upper part of his head,
and all his body above the lateral line, are of a deep
cerulean blue, almost black along the ridge, and mellow-
ing downward into lustrous, pearly azure on the sides,
the lower parts and belly glitter like burnished silver,
and the whole fish appears, when -newly taken from the
water, to be cased in such silver and enameled mail, as

XN

THE SALMON. 173

we read of as worn by the tragic heroines of Tasso’s or
Ariosto’s poetry.

A few irregular black spots scattered along the back
and upper regions of his sides seem to set off by the
contrast the brilliancy of his general coloring.

The structural peculiarities of the salmon, by which
he is distinguished from all other families, are his sharp,
strong, hooked teeth, and the number and formation of
his fins. These latter are in number seven, exclusive of
the tail—two dorsals, on the ridge of the back, the
posterior of the two being a mere fatty appendage; two
pectorals, immediately behind the gills ; two ventrals on
the sides of the belly about midway the length of the
fish ; and one anal, midway between the ventrals and
the under origin of the tail. The peculiarity in their
formation is that they are all supported by soft-branched
rays, as they are called, in opposition to the sharp and
thorny spines, which are found more or less numerous in
the dorsals, ventrals, and anals of many other families
of fish—as the perch, the bass, and others, one of which
is the fish known as the Ohio or Susquehanna salmon,
but correctly named the pike-perch, or yellow sandre.

By the number and quality of his fins, therefore, the
salmon family may be readily distinguished from all
others; no other family having the hinder fatty dorsal
fin.

By the number of rays in the several fins, the true
salmon, or sea salmon, may be known from the others

174 AMERICAN GAME.

of his family, as the salmon-trout, or sea-trout, the
spotted, or bruok-trout, the several varieties of lake-trout
peculiar to the great inland waters of this country, and
the many other more distantly connected species which
it is unnecessary here to enumerate, though it may be
well to state that the White fish of the lakes, the Otsego
bass, the smelt, and the capelinn, are all of this family.
These fin rays in the true salmon are as follows: in
the first dorsal, 15—second dorsal, 0—pectorals, each.
14—ventrals, each, 10—anal, 18—caudal fin, or tail, 21.
I have been more particular in dwelling on these par-
ticulars, because I am well aware that there are many
good sportsmen throughout the country in the habit of
miscalling many fishes, from ignorance of the true dis-
tinctive marks, who will gladly receive information
which, as a general rule, can only be. obtained from
costly scientific works, out of the reach of the mass of
men, and entirely unattainable in remote inland districts.
A little attention to these distinctions would soon put an
end-to all the confusion now arising from the application
of the same names to entirely different fishes in different
sections of the country; even as a little attention to the
habits and seasous of the finny, no less than of the
feathery and fur-clad tribes, would tend at least to pre-
vent their indiscriminate and cruel destruction at seasons
when they are busy in the work of reproduction, and
when, as it would seem by a special dispensation of
Providence, they are unfit for the food of man.

THE SALMON. 175

The salmon, properly speaking, is neither a salt-water
nor a fresh-water fish ; a change from one to the other,
at different seasons of the year, being in his natural
state necessary to his existence, and in any state to his
greatest perfection. The salt water and the food which
they therein obtain, the spawn, namely, and eggs of
crabs, and other crustaceous fishes, are necessary to him
for the recruiting and reinvigorating his system after the
exhaustion consequent on spawning; and to these he is
supposed to owe his great and rapid growth, the deep
ruddy color, and the exquisite flavor of his flesh.

The fresh water of clear, cold spring-fed rivers is
necessary to him for the reproduction of his species, as
it is now a proved and recognized fact, that the spawn,
or eggs, of the salmon cannot be hatched or brought to
lite except in the highly aérated waters of clear, quick-
running, shallow, fresh streams.

If the upper parts of all the rivers in the world could
be closed against the salmon, as in most of our own
rivers they are by dams and weirs, the salmon would
cease to exist at all, as they have ceased to exist.in those
rivers whence they are now excluded, but wherein they
once abounded, us the Delaware, the Hudson, and the
Connecticut, and thousands of others, even to the outlets
of the small lakes of central New York, where they
were once common. ;

In July the salmon begin freely to enter the estuaries
of the breeding rivers, and after remaining for some

176 AMERICAN GAME.

weeks about the point where the tide turns, and salt and
fresh water alternates, as if to acclimate themselves to
the change of temperature, proceed up to the very head-
waters of the streams they frequent, and there, in the
gravelly bottoms of the shallow rivulets, deposit their
egos, to be matured and ripened by the effects of the air
and sunshine. Thencé they descend to the sea again, to .
recover health and vigor for the ensuing season, but on
their descent they would not be recognized for the same
fish which ascended in the previous autumn, as they are
now lean, flat-sided, big-headed—owing to the diminu-
tion of the body—dingy-colored, and utterly unfit for
food. A male salmon, which from his length, should
have weighed 11 lbs., in condition, being killed in this
state, was found to weigh 44 lbs. Yet in this miserable
and useless state, as well as on the very spawning beds,
when in the actual performance of their natural and
paternal duties, this noble fish is ruthlessly and wantonly
massacred to the gradual annihilation of the species,
and to the extinction not only of an admirable and
athletic sport, but of a considerable source of national
wealth, and a valuable branch of domestic and foreign
trade.

Now it is by no means necessary, either to abstain
from taking salmon, in almost unlimited quantities at
the proper season, that is to say, while they are running
up the rivers in summer and early autumn, provided
only that the whole channel is not obstructed by stake-

THE SALMON. 177

nets, or to abolish mill-dams in toto, in order to prevent
the destruction, and even insure the abundance of this
noble fish in the waters whence it is so rapidly disap-
pearing. Only abstain from killing it on the spawning-
beds, when it is in the act of reproducing its kind, or
when it is returning to the sea, weary and weak, and
unfit for food—only compel, by strictly enforced law,
every mill-dam owner to attach to his weir or dam, an
apron, or sloping descent, of an angle not exceeding 45°,
twelve feet in width, over which the water shall flow in
a volume of one foot depth, and the fish will speedily
be found in as great abundance as ever, in. all those
waters from which he has not as yet wholly disappeared.
Even in those where he is now extinct I believe that he
could, be reproduced by the importation of small fry,
and if reproduced, of course, preserved to any extent by
the enforcement of proper laws. While on this subject,
I would state, that greatly to the credit of the supervi-
sors of that county, an act has been passed containing
all the provisions above mentioned, with regard to the
Salmon River, in Oswego county, I believe, in the State
-of New York; and I trust that the example thus set
will be followed, with reference to the Oswego itself,
and the Seneca, Cayuga, and Skaneateles outlets, in
which case salmon would be once more taken in the
heart of the Empire State, and instead of depending on
Maine and New Brunswick for her supplies of salmon,

New York would ere long be enabled to supply her
8*

178 AMERICAN GAME.

sister cities on the seaboard with this high-priced and
favorite dainty. It is singular that in the United States,
where so much attention is given to every other‘form of
industry, every other source of national wealth, so little
has been paid to that very valuable resource, the sea and
' river fisheries.

But now to turn from the fish to the fishing. This
sport is attainable on all salmon rivers above tide-water,
or at about the meeting of the fresh and salt, by the
sportsman, during the whole of the month of July and
of August, and on some waters in the earlier part of Sep-
tember. There are but two ways of taking the salmon
with the hook usually practiced by sporting fishermen,
and one of these even rarely as compared with the other
—the best, most scientific, most orthodox, and most suc-
cessful, is casting with the artificial fly; the second,
which will often kill good fish when the water is too
foul, after heavy rains or freshets, to allow their rising’ to
the fly, and at the meeting of the salt and fresh, is spin-
ning or trolling with the minnow, the young trout in its
parr state, the smelt, or the sand launce, occasionally in~
deep, still pools, the salmon will take a hook heavily
shotted, and baited with two large dew-worms; and
always and infallibly it will greedily seize one baited
with its own roe potted and preserved with salt.

The former of these methods is, however, slow, uncer-
tain, tedious, and inferior both as to sport and success to
any of the rest. The latter is so deadly and unerring

THE SALMON. 179

that it is regarded, by all true brothers of the rod and
reel, in the same light as shooting birds on the ground
would be by a genuine shot, as a pot-hunting, if not
poaching device, unworthy of the sportsman.

I do not of course speak of kistering or spearing
salmon, as that is an iniquity which can only be per-
formed when the fish are spawning, practiced therefore
neither by the true sportsman, nor the fair trader, but
only by the greedy, wanton, destructive, cruel brute,
who slaughters neither for legitimate sport nor for profit,
but merely for the wanton love of slaughtering. Nor do
I speak of net fisheries, whether stake-net or seine, for
these are the methods of capturing salmon for gain, not
for sport or pleasure.

It is a singular thing that very little is known of the
true food of the salmon; for so rapid is their digestion,
that when taken their stomachs are always found empty,
with the exception of a small quantity of yellowish fluid ;
but it would seem quite certain that while in fresh water
it must consist principally, if not entirely, of small fish,
for the natural water flies, which are the favorite food of
trout and of themselves also when in their infancy, before
they have visited salt water, they do not condescend to
notice on their return to the rivers.

For what they mistake the large gaudy artificial sal-
mon flies, at which they rise so greedily on their first
advent into fresh water, it is impossible to conjecture ;
since there is nothing under heaven to which they bear

180 AMERICAN GAME. _

even a distant resemblance. Sir Humphry Davy conjec-
tures that they may be actuated by a vague local recol-
lection, on returning, as they always do, to the identical
rivers in which they were bred, from the sea, where
they have been feeding on a totally different prey, of
the water-flies which in their childhood they were used
to take on the surface, and therefore looking to the sur-
face for their food, strike at the first thing they see bear-
ing a remote resemblance to a winged insect.

The implements necessary to the salmon fly-fisher are
a powerful two-handed rod, of sixteen to eighteen fget in
length, composed of ash, hickory and lancewood, or
spliced bamboo, with a solid butt fitted with a spike—
whereby to fix it in the ground erect while changing
your flies or the like—a large click reel, on no account
a multiplier, a hundred vards of hair line, a casting line
of the stoutest, roundest and most even salmon gut, and
a book of salmon-flies—the numbers, colors and varieties
of which are endless.

As good as any, to my mind, is the peacock upper
and bluejay under wings, gay silk body, red hackle
legs, and bird of Paradise tail; but the truth is, that
almost anything large and gaudy will take salmon, if
deftly and skillfully dropped at the exact time, and in
the exact place. If they will not take one they will
another, and the which is which must be discovered by
experiment.

The brighter and stiller the water, the smaller and

TH® SALMON. 181

more grave colored should be the fly, as a general rule.
Where the river is foul, or the current much broken,
foamy and rapid, the fly can hardly be too large, or too
gaily colored. ,

For the rest, no writing can teach a man howto throw
a fly, how to strike a fish when he has risen, or how to
kill when he has struck him ; practice, patience, perse-
verance, and coolness are the great requisites, and the
best way of learning is to accompany a good fly-fisher
to the brook-side, to observe and study his motions, and
by example more than by oral instruction to acquire his
method, and by deg@ees approach his skill.

I suppose hardly any one would attempt to use the
double-handed rod, or attempt salmon, who had not first
learned to throw a cast of flies from the light rod, and
- succeeded in hooking a trout. I will therefore merely
observe, for the benefit of the trout fisher who makes
his first essay on salmon, that it is not advisable, as in
trout fishing, to keep the fly dancing as it were and hoy-
ering on the surface, but to let it sink a little way, pull
it back with a slight jerk not quite out of water, and
then let it sink again, and so on until your cast is finish-
ed, and you lift your fly for another. Again, when a
salmon has risen at your fly, you need not strike near so
quickly, and you must strike much more strongly and
sharply than at a trout. Colquhoun, in his capital book,
“The Moor and the Loch,” recommends that the sal-
mon be allowed to turn before striking him, and I

a Or eee Ears

182 AMERICAN GAME.

think the advice sound and good. When he is struck
you must make him fight for every inch of line you give
him, holding him very hard, but of course giving rather
than letting him break you, until he becomes exhausted ;
if he plunges to the bottom and sulks, you must arouse
him by stirring the water with a pole or pelting him
with pebbles, for your “only chance of killing him de-
pends,” to borrow the words of Davy’s Salmonia, “‘ on
his being kept constantly in action, so that he may ex-
haust himself by exercise.”

When he is wearied out,when he turns up his broad,
bright side exhausted on the surfac®, let your assistant
pass the sharp, hooked gaff carefully under him, and
strike it home by one cool, steady, upward jerk, and he
is yours. Myself, I prefer to gaff in the solid muscular
tail, behind the ventral cavity, as affording the best hold ;
but many good sportsmen prefer to strike in the shoulder.
as giving more command of the fish—so that he i:
gaffed, however, it matters not much where, for he is
pretty certainly ashore a moment afterward. I may
as well here mention that while on a visit in Troy
recently, I was shown a new spring or click gaff, which
must unquestionably supersede the old hook. It is
easy of management, unerring, and can be handled with
success by the most awkward country lad, and every
sportsman knows how often he is annoyed by the clum-
siness of an assistant who merely grazes a beaten fish,
and goads him into fresh fury, perhaps causing his event-

THE SALMON. 183

ual loss, and eliciting naughty words from the not then
gentle fisherman.

And now, kind reader mine, I have told you swhither
to pass in pursuit of your sport ; I have told you, so far
as tell I can, how to rise, how to strike, how to kill, how
to land your fish.

Now I will tell you how to cook him—eat him, I doubt
not, you can without my teaching.

As soon as he is out of water stun him with a heavy
blow on the head; then with a sharp knife crimp him,
that is, gash him to the bone on both sides with a num-
ber of parallel transvere cuts, parallel to the line of the
gills, at about two inches asunder ; hold him up by the
tail and let him bleed; cool him for ten minutes in the
coldest spring or running water you can find at hand;
carry him to the pot in which your salt and water—
nearly strong enough to bear an egg—must be boiling
like mad; in with him, and let him boil quantum suff.
Then serve him up, with no sauce save a few spoonsful
of the water in which he was cooked, and if you please,
the squeeze of a lemon, or, better yet, a lime—but, “ an
you love me, Hal,” eschew the lobster sauce, and the
rich condiments, as Reading, Worcestershire or Soy, for
he is rich enough without, and they will but kill his
natural flavor, and undo his delicacy.

And so adieu, and good luck to you! Take my ad-
vice, and when night cometh you may boast that you
have fished well, and dined supremely.

184. AMERICAN GAME.

I may here add, for the information of whom it may
concern, that my friend, Captain Peel, better known as
Dinks, a famous sportsman and salmon fisher, has hired
the exclusive fishing of one of the finest salmon rivers in
Canada West, on which a good fisherman may bag from
six to twenty well-fed fish per diem. The river affords
admirable fishing for six or seven rod, is carefully pre-
served by Captain Peel, who keeps a regular game-
keeper on it; and is easily accessible from Quebec.

Captain Peel makes up a party to go thither and fish
annually, furnishing all appliances and means to boot,
lodging, after forest fashion, in comfortable shanties ;
board of the best that can be obtained, including excellent
port, sherry, and bottled ale; boats, men, everything in
short, rods only excepted, that is requisite to the genu-
ine sportsman, at the very small price of $120 per month.

The scenery of the Lower St. Lawrence is magnificent,
the climate delicious, the fishing the finest in the world. |
The expense is ridiculously cheap as compared with the
inducements offered, nor can I imagine a more delightful
or cheaper mode of passing a couple of summer months
than any sportsman can obtain by addressing Captain
Peel, Amherstburg, Canada West.

Che Americnn Woodcock.

Scolopaw Minor,

THE BLIND SNIPE; MUD SNIPE, &c.

DURING THE SUMMER—CANADA TO VIRGINIA.
DURING THE WINTER—SOUTHERN STATES TO MEXICO

‘vunnsomp niadosny ‘“$OOOMOOM NVOISAKY AL

THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK.
Scolopax Minor.

Tux American Woodcock, Scolopax minor, or, as it
has been subdistinguished by some naturalists, from the
peculiar form of its short, rounded wing, the fourth
and fifth quills of which are the longest, Microptera
Americana, is, as the latter title indicates, exclusively
confined to this hemisphere and continent. It is much
smaller than its European namesake, being very rarely
killed exceeding eight or nine ounces in weight, and
sixteen inches in extent from tip to tip of the expanded
wings; whereas the European cock averages full twelve
ounces, being often found up to fifteen, and measures
twenty-five or twenty-six inches.

In general appearance and color they bear a consider-
able affinity each to the other; the upper plumage of
both being beautifully yariegated, like the finest tortoise-
shell, with wavy black lines on a rich brown ground,
mottled in places with bright fawn color and ash-gray ,
but the breast and belly of the American bird are of a
deep fulvous yellow, darkest on upper part and fading to

188 AMERICAN GAME.

a yellowish white at the vent, while its ‘European
congener has all the lower parts of a dull cream color,
barred with faint dusky waved lines, like the breast
feathers of some of the falcons.

It has generally been believed that the large cock
of the Eastern continent is never found in America; and
all analogy would go to strengthen that belief, for neither
of the birds range on their respective continents very far
to the northward, whereas it is those species only which
extend into the Arctic regions, and by no means all of
them, that are common to the two hemispheres. Some
circumstances have, however, come recently to my know-
ledge which lead me to doubt whether the large woodcock
of the Eastern hemisphere does not occasionally find its
way to this continent, although it is difficult to conceive
how it should do so, since it must necessarily wing its
way across the whole width of the Atlantic, from the

-shores of Ireland or the Azores, which are, so far as is
ascertained, its extreme western limit.

A very good English sportsman resident in Philadel-
phia, who is perfectly familiar with both the species and
their distinctions, assures me that during the past winter
a friend brought for his inspection an undoubted English
woodcock, which he had purchased in the market; it
weighed twelve ounces, measured twenty-five inches
from wing +o wing, and had the cream-colored barred

preast which I have described. The keeper of the stall
at which this bird was purchased did not know where it

THE AMERIOAN WOODCOCK. 189

had been killed, but averred that several birds had pre-
viously been in his possession, precisely similar to this
in every respect. It is not a little remarkable that the
same gentleman who saw this bird, and unhesitatingly
pronounced it an European cock, was informed by a
sporting friend that he had seen in Susquehanna county
a cock, which he was satisfied must have measured
twenty-five inches in extent, but which he unfortunately
missed. There is likewise, at this time, in the city a
skull and bill of a woodcock of very unusual dimensions,
of which I am promised a sight, and which, from the
description, I am well nigh convinced is of the European
species.

It is possible that these birds may have been brought
over and kept in confinement, and subsequently escaped,
and so become naturalized in America; and yet it is
difficult to conceive that persons should have taken the
trouble of preserving so stupid and uninteresting a bird
as the woodcock in a cage, unless for the purpose of
transporting them from one country to another in order
to the introduction of new species.

This might be done very easily with regard to some
species, and with undoubted success ; and it has greatly
surprised me that it has never been attempted with
regard to our American woodcock, which might unques-
tionably be naturalized in England with the greatest
. facility; where it would, I have no doubt, multiply
extraordinarily, and become one of the most numerous

190 AMERICAN GAME.

and valuable species of game, as the mildness of the
winters in ordinary seasons would permit the bird to
remain perennially in the island, without resorting to
migration in order to obtain food.

The woodcock and snipe can both be very readily
domesticated, and can easily be induced to feed on bread
and milk reduced to the consistency of pulp, of which
they ultimately become extremely fond. This is done at
first by throwing a few small red worms into the bread
and milk, for which the birds bore and bill, as if it
were in their natural muddy soil.

In all countries in which any species of the woodcock
is found, it is a bird essentially of moderate climates,
abhorring and shunning all extremes of temperature,
whether of heat or of cold.

With us, it winters in the Southern States from Vir-
ginia, in parts of which, I believe, it is found at all sea-
sons of the year, through the Carolinas, Georgia and
Florida to Louisiana and Mississippi, in the almost
impenetrable cane-brakes and deep morasses of which it
finds a secure retreat and abundance of its favorite food,
during the inclement season, which binds Up every
stream and boggy swamp of the Middle and New
England States in icy fetters.

So soon, however, as the first indications of spring
commence, in those regions of almost tropical heat, the
woodcock wings its way with the unerring certainty of
instinct.evhich guides him back, as surely as the magnet

THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK. 191

points to the pole, to the very wood and the very brake
of the wood in which he was hatched, and commences
the duties of nidification. ,

I am inclined to believe that the woodcock are already
paired when they come on to the northward; if not,
they do so without the slightest delay, for they unques-
tionably begin to lay within a week or two after their
arrival, sometimes even before the snow has melted from
the upland. Sometimes they have been known to lay so
early as February, but March and the beginning of
April are their more general season. Their nest is very
inartificially made of dry leaves and stalks of grass.
The female lays from four to five eggs, about an inch
and a half long, by an inch in diameter, of a dull clay
color, marked with a few blotches of dark brown inter-
spersed with splashes of faint purple. It is a little
doubtful whether the woodcock does or does not rear a
second brood of young, unless the first hatching is
destroyed, as is very frequently the case, by spring
floods, which are very fatal to them. In this case, they
do unquestionably breed a second time, for I have
myself found the young birds, skulking about like young
mice in the long grass, unable to fly, and covered with
short blackish down, the most uncouth and comical look-
ing little wretches imaginable, during early July shoot-
ing; but it is on the whole my opinion that, at least on
early seasons, they generally raise two broods } and this,

192 AMERICAN GAME.

among others, is one cause of my very strong desire to
see summer woodcock shooting entirely abolished.

Unless this is done, I am convinced beyond doubt,
that before twenty years have elapsed the woodcock will
be as rare an animal as a wolf between the great lakes
and the Atlantic sea-board, so ruthlessly are they perse-
cuted and hunted down by pot-hunters and poachers, for
the benefit of restaurateurs and of the lazy, greedy
cockneys who support them. There is, however, I fear,
little hope of any legislative enactment toward this
highly desirable end; for too many even of those who
call themselves, and who ought to be, true sportsmen,
are selfish and obstinate on this point, and the name of
the pot-hunters is veritably legion. Moreover, it is to be
doubted whether, even if such a statute were added to
our game-laws, it could be enforced; so vehemently
opposed do all the rural classes, who ought to be the
best friends of the game, show themselves on all occa-
sions to any attempt toward preserving them, partly
from a mistaken idea that game-laws are of feudal
origin and of aristocratic tendency ; and so averse are
they to enforce the penalties of the law on offenders,
from a servile apprehension of giving offense to their
neighbors.

At present, in almost all the States of which the wood-
cock is a summer visitant, either by law or by prescrip-
tion, July is the month appropriated to the commence-
ment of their slaughter; in New York the first is the

THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK. 193

day, in New Jersey the fifth, and in all the Middle
States, with the single exception of Delaware, where it
is deferred until August, some day of the same month is
fixed as the termination of close time. Even in Dela-
ware the exception is rendered nugatory, by a provision
permitting every person to shoot on his own grounds,
whether in or out of season, in consequence of which
the birds are all killed off early in June.

It may now be set down almost as a rule, that in all
the Atlantic seaboard counties, and, indeed, every where
in the vicinity of the large cities and great thorough-
fares, the whole of the summer hatching is killed off
before the end of July, with the exception of a few
scattered stragglers, which have escaped pursuit in some
impenetrable brake or oozy quagmire which defies the
foot of the sportsman; that few survive to moult, and
that the diminished numbers, which we now find on our
autumn shooting-grounds, are supplied exclusively by
the northern and Canadian broods, which keep success-
ively flying before the advancing cold of winter, and
sojourning among us for a longer or a shorter period, ere
they wing their way to the rice-fields of the Savannah,
or the cane-brakes of the Mississippi.

If my method could be generally adopted, of letting
the fifteenth day of September, after the moulting season
is passed, and when the birds are beginning again to
congregate on their favorite feeding-grounds, be the
commencement of every sort of upland shooting, with-

9

194 AMERICAN GAME.

out any exception, the sport would be enormous; the
birds at that season are in full vigor, in complete plu-
mage, in the perfection of condition for the table, and
are so strong on the wing, so active and so swift, that no
one could for a moment imagine them to be the same
with the miserable, puny, half-fledged younglings, which
any bungling boy can butcher as he pleases, with the
most miserable apparatus, and without almost as well as
with a dog, during the dog-days of July.

The weather is, moreover, cool and pleasant, and in
every way well-suited to the sport at this season; dogs
-have a chance to do their work handsomely and well,
and the sportsman can do his work, too, as he ought to
do it, like a man, walking at his proper rate, unmolested
by mosquitoes, and without feeling the salé perspiration
streaming into his eyes, until he can hardly brook the
pain.

But no such hope existing as that state legislatures,
dependent, not on rational but on brute opinion, should
condescend to hear or listen to common sense, on
matters such as game laws, are we, or are we not, to
abandon our plan, to sacrifice our knowledge and
enlightened views on this subject to obstinate ignorance ;
or shall we not take the better part, and decide, accord-
ing to Minerva’s lesson in Tennyson’s magnificent
Enone,

- For that right is right to follow right
Where wisdom is the scorn of consequence.

THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK. 195

We shall resist and persist ; at least I shall—I, Frank
Forester, who never in my life have killed a bird out of
season intentionally, and who never will—who am com-
pelled by sham sportsmen, cockney and pot-gunners to
shoot woodcock in July; who have been invited, times
out and over again, to shoot cock on men’s own ground,
and therefore within the letter of the law, in New Jersey,
Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland, before the
season ; who have ever refused to take the advantages,
which every one takes over me; and who still intend to
persist, though not to hope, that there may be sense
enough, if not integrity, among the legislatures of the
free states, to prevent the destruction of all game within
their several jurisdictions.

As the thing stands—and by the thing I mean the law
—woodecock are to be shot on or about the first day of
July ; and if, dear reader, you try to shoot any where
within fifty miles of New York, or twenty-five of Phila-
delphia, much later than the tenth of June, I am inclined
to think that you will find wonderfully little sport;
before the season, do not fire a shot, if you will take my
advice ; if poachers will violate the law, and the law will
not enforce itself against poachers, abstain from becom-
ing a poacher yourself, and do not shoot before the
season fairly commences.

At this period of the year woodcock are almost inva-
riably found in the lowlands ; sometimes, as, for instance,
at Salem, in New Jersey, and many other similar locali-

196 AMERICAN GAME.

ties along the low and level shores of the Delaware, in
the wide, open meadows, where there is not a bush or
brake to be seen for miles; but more generally in low,
swampy woods, particularly in maple woods, which have
an undergrowth of alder; along the margin of oozy
streamlets, creeping through moist meadows, among
willow thickets; and in wet pastures trampled by cattle,
and set here and there with little brakes, which afford
them shade and shelter during the heat of the day.

Of the latter description is the ground, once so famous
for its summer cock-shooting, known as “the drowned
lands,” in Orange County, New York, extending for
miles and miles along the margins of the Wallkill and
its tributaries, the Black Creek, the Quaker Creek, and
the beautiful Wawayanda. Many a day of glorious
sport have I had on those sweet level meadows, enjoyed
with friends long since dispersed and scattered, some
dead, untimely, some in far distant lands, some false-
and some forgetful, and thou, true-hearted, honest, merry-
brave, Tom Draw; thou whilom king of hosts and
emperor of sportsmen, thou, saddest fate of all, smitten,
or ere thy prime was passed away, by the most fearful
visitation that awaits mankind—the awiul doom of
blindness! never again shall I draw trigger on those
once loved levels—the railroad now thunders and
whistles close beside them, and every man and boy and
fool, now sports his fowling-piece ; and not a woodcock
on the meadows but, after running the gauntlet of a

THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK. 197

hundred shots, a hundred volleys, is consigned to the
care of some conductor, by him to be ‘delivered to Del-
monico or Florence, for the benefit of fat, greasy
merchant-princes; and if it were not so, if birds,
swarmed as of yore in every reedy slank, by every alder-
brake, in every willow tuft, the ground is haunted by
too many recollections, rife with too nfany thick-suc-
ceeding memories to render it a fitting place, to me at
least, for pleasurable or gay pursuits.

But, as I have said before, summer cock-shooting on
the Drowned Lands of Orange County is among the
things that have been—one of the stars that have set,
never to be relumed, in the nineteenth century ; and the
glory of {the Warwick Woodlands” has departed.

In Connecticut, in some parts, there is very good
summer cock-shooting yet; and also in many places in
the neighborhood of Philadelphia, in the rich alluvial
levels around the Delaware, the Schuylkill, and their
tributary rivers ; but the sportsman, who really thirsts for
fine shooting—shooting such as it does the heart good to
hear of—must mount the iron-horse, whose breath is the
hissing steam, and away, fleeter even than the wings of
the morning, for Michigan and Llinois and Indiana, for
the willow-brakes of Alganac, and the rice-marshes ot
Lake St. Clair; and there he may shoot cock till his
gun-barrels are red-hot, and his heart is satiate of bird-
slaughter.

It is usual at this season to shoot cock over pointers or

198 AMERICAN GAME.

setters, according to individual preference of this or that
race of dogs; for myself, of the two, I prefer the setter,
as in cock-shooting there is always abundance of water
to be had, and this rough-coated, high-strung dog can
face brakes and penetrate coverts, which play the
mischief with the smooth satiny skin of the high-blooded
pointer. '

In truth, however, neither of these, but the short-
legged, bony, red and white cocking-spaniel, is the true
dog over which to shoot summer woodcock ; and no one,
I will answer for it, who has ever hunted a good cry of
these, will ever again resort either to setter or pointer
for this, to them, inappropriate service.

The true place for these dogs is the open plain, the
golden stubble, the wide-stretching prairie, the highland ,
moor, where they can find full scope for their heady
courage, their wonderful fleetness, their unwearied
industry, and display their miracles of staunchness,
steadiness, and nose.

In order to hunt these dogs on ie you must unteach
them some of their noblest faculties, you must tame
down their spirits, shackle their fiery speed, reduce
them, in fact, to the functions of the spaniel, which is
much what it would be to train a battle charger to bear
a pack-saddle, or manage an Eclipse into a lady’s
ambling palfrey.

The cocking-spaniel, on the.contrary, is here in his
very vocation, Ever industrious, ever busy, never rang-

THE AMERICAN WOODCOOK. 199

ing above twenty paces from his master, bustling round
every stump, prying into every fern-bush, worming his
long, stout body, propped on its short, bony legs, into
the densest and most matted cover, no cock can escape
him.

See! one of them has struck a trail; how he flourishes
his stump of a tail. Now he snuffs the tainted ground ;
what a rapture fills his dark, expressive eye. Now he is
certain ; he pauses for a moment, looks back to see if
his master is at hand; “ Yaff! yaff!” the brakes ring
with his merry clamor, his comrade rushes to his aid
like lightning, yet pauses ever, obedient to the whistle,
nor presses the game too rashly, so that it rise out of
distance. Up steps the master, with his thumb upon the
dexter hammer, and his fore-finger on the trigger-guard. °
Now they are close upon the quarry; “yaff! yaff!
yaft!” Flip flap! up springs the cock, with a shrill
whistle, on a soaring wing. Flip flap! again—there are
a couple. Deliberately prompt, up goes the fatal tube—
even as the butt presses the shoulder, trigger is drawn
after trigger. Bang! bang! the eye of faith and the
finger of instinct have.done their work, duly, truly.
The thud of one bird, as he strikes the moist soil, tells
that he has fallen ; the long stream of feathers floating
in the still air through yonder open glade, announces
the fate of the second ; and, before the butt of the gun,
dropped to load, has touched the ground, without a word
‘or question, down charged at the report, the busy little

200 AMERICAN GAME.

babblers are couched silent in the soft, succulent young:
grass. Loaded once more, “Hie! fetch!’ and what a
race of emulation—mouthing their birds gently, yet
rapturously, to inhale best the delicate aroma, not biting
them, each cocker has brought in his bird, and they and ~
you, gentle reader, if you be the happy sportsman who
possesses such a brace of beauties, are rewarded ‘ade-
quately and enough. ;

For. the rest, a short, wide-bored, double-barrel, an
ounce of No. 8 shot, and an equal measure of Brough’s
diamond-grain, will do the business of friend micrcptera,
as effectually, at this season, as a huge, long, old-fashion-
ed nine-pounder, with its two ounce charge; and it will
give you this advantage, that it shall weigh less by three
pounds, and enable you to dispense with a superfluous
weight of shot, which on a hot July day, especially if
you be at all inclined to what our friend Willis calls
pinguitude, will of a necessity produce much exudation,
and some lassitude.

Vill.
AUGUST.

The Coos Back; ov Summer Duck,

Anas, sive Dendronessa Sponsa,
‘

THE UNITED STATES; CANADA TO MEXICO.

Che American Beer,

Cervus Virginianus,

AMERICAN CONTINENT—NEW BRUNSWICK TO MEXICO.

‘

Anas Sponsa,

K, OR WOOD DICK.

c

THE SUMMER DU

THE SUMMER DUCK, OR WOOD DUCK.
Anas Sponsa.

Tuts lovely species of the most beautiful of the whole
Duck tribe, is peculiar to the continent and isles of
America, being familiarly known through almost every
portion of the United States, and according to Wilson,
common in Mexico and the West India Islands. In
Florida it is very abundant, as it is, more or less, on all
the fresh waters so far north as the interior of the State
of New York; in the colder regions, to the north-east-
ward, though not unknown, it is of less frequent occur-
rence than in more genial climates.

Its more correct title, “Summer Duck,” is referable
to the fact, that it is not, like most of the Anatides and
Fuligule, fresh water and sea ducks, more or less a bird
of passage, retiring to the fastnesses of the extreme north,
for the purposes of nidification, and rearing its young ;
but, wherever it abounds, is a permanent citizen of the
land, raising its family in the very place where itself was
born, and not generally, if undisturbed, moving very far

204 AMERICAN GAME.

from its native haunts. I think, however, that in the
United States it is perhaps better known under its other
appellation of Wood Duck ; and I am not prepared to
say, although the former is the specific name adopted by
all naturalists, that the latter is not the better, as the
more distinctive title, and applying to a more remarka-
ble peculiarity of the bird. For it, alone, so far as I
know, of the Duck family, is in the habit of perching
and roosting on the. upper branches of tall trees, near
water-courses, and of making its nest in the holes and
hollows of old trunks, overhanging sequestered streams
or woodland pools, often at a great height above the sur-
face of the water.

The Summer Duck is the most gayly attired of the
whole family ; it has, moreover, a form of very unusual
elegance, as compared with other ducks; and a facility
of flight, and a command of itself on the wing, most un-
like to the ponderous, angular flapping of the rest of its
tribe, wheeling with a rapidity and power of pinion, ap-
proaching in some degree to that of the swallow, in and
out among the branches of the gnarled and tortuous pin-
oaks, whose shelter it especially affects.

. From two very fine specimens, male and .female, now
before me, I take the following description :

Drake, in full summer plumage. Length from tip of
bill to tip of tail, 21 inches. Length of wing, 9 inches.
Bill, 11-5inch. Tarsus, 14. Middle toe, 2 inches. Body
long, delicately shaped, rounded. Head small, finely

THE SUMMER DUOK. 205

crested ; neck rather long and slender. Eye large, with
golden-yellow irides. Legs and feet orange-yellow, webs
dusky, claws black. Plumage soft, compressed, blended.
Bill orange-red at the base, yellow on the sides, with a
black spot above the nostrils, extending nearly to the
tip ; nail recurved, black.
The colors are most vivid. The crown of the head,
' cheeks, side of the upper neck and crest changeable, va-
rying in different lights, from bottle-green, through all
hues of dark blue, bright azure, purple, with ruby and
* amethyst reflections, to jet black. From the upper cor-
ner of the upper mandible a narrow snow-white streak
above the eye runs back, expanding somewhat, into the
upper crest. A broader streak of the same extends
backward below the eye, and forms several bright streaks
in the lower part of the crest. Chin and fore throat
snow-white, with a sort of double gorget, the upper ex-
tending upward a little posterior to the eye, and nearly
reaching it, the lower almost: encircling the neck at its
narrowest part. The lower neck and upper breast are
of the richest vinous red, interspersed in front with small
arrow-headed spots of pure white. Lower breast white,
spotted with paler vinous red; belly pure white. Scap-
ulars, and lower hind neck, reddish brown, with green
reflections. Back, tail-coverts and tail black, splendidly
glossed with metallic lustre of rich blue-green and pur-
ple. Wing-coverts and primaries brown, glossed with
blue and green, outer webs of the primaries silvery

206 AMERICAN GAME.

white ; secondaries glossy blue-black. A broad crescent-

shaped band of pure white in front of the wings, at the
edge of the red breast-feathers, and behind this a
broader margin of jet black. The sides of the body
rich greenish yellow, most delicately penciled with nar-
row close waved lines of gray. On the flanks six dis-
tinct semi-lunated bands of white, anteriorly bordered
with broad black origins, and tipped with black. The’
vent tawny white, the rump and under tail-coverts dark
reddish purple.

The duck is smaller and duller in her general coloring,
but still bears sufficient resemblance to the splendid
drake to cause her at once to be recognized, by any
moderately observant eye, as his mate.

Her bill is blackish brown, the irides of her eyes hazel
brown, her feet dull dusky green. Crown of her head
and hind neck dusky, faintly glossed with green, and
with the rudiments of a crest; cheeks dusky brown. A
white circle round the eye and longitudinal spot behind
it. Chin and throat dingy white. Shoulders, back,
scapulars, wing-coverts, rump and tail brown, more or
less glossed with green, purple and dark crimson. Pri-
maries black, with reflections of deep cerulean blue and
violet; outer webs silvery white. Secondaries violet-
blue and deep green, with black edges and a broad white
margin, forming the speculum or beauty spot. Upper
fore neck, breast, sides and flanks deep chestnut-brown,
spotted in irregular lines with oval marks of faint tawny

THE SUMMER DUCK. 207

yellow; belly, vent and under tail-coverts white, flanks
and thighs dull brown.

The young males of the first season are scarcely dis-
tinguishable from the ducks.

The Summer Duck breeds, in New York and New
Jersey, according to the season, from early in April until
late in May; in July the young birds are not much infe-
rior in size to the parents, though not yet very strong on
the wing. I well remember on one occasion, during the
second week of that month, in the year 1836, while out
woodcock shooting near Warwick, in Orange county,
New York, with a steady brace of setters, how some
mowers who were at work on the banks of the beautiful
Wawayanda, hailed me, and, pointing to a patch of per-
haps two acres of coarse, rushy grass, told me that six
ducks had just gone down there. I called my dogs to
heel, and walked very gingerly through the meadow,
with finger on the trigger, expecting the birds to rise
very wild; but to my great surprise reached the end of
the grass, on the rivulet’s margin, without moving any
thing.

The men still persisted that the birds were there; and
so they were, sure enough; for on bidding my setters
hold up, I soon got six dead points in the grass, and not
without some trouble kicked up the birds, so hard did
they lay. It wasa calm, bright summer’s day, not a
duck rose above ten feet from me, and I bagged them all.
They proved to be the old duck and five young birds of

208 AMERICAN GAME.

that season, but in size the latter were quite equal to the
mother bird.

I consider the Summer Duck, at all times rather a less
shy bird than its congeners, though it may that it is ow-
ing to the woody covert which, unlike others of its tribe,
it delights to frequent; and which perhaps acts in some
degree as a screen to its pursuer; but except on one
other occasion I never saw any thing like the tameness
of that brood.

The other instance occurred nearly in the same place,
and in the same month, I think, of the ensuing year. I
was again out summer cock shooting, and was crossing a
small, sluggish brook, of some twelve or fourteen feet
over, with my gun under my arm, on a pile of old rails,
which had been thrown into the channel by the hay-
makers, to make an extemporaneous bridge for the hay
teams; when on a sudden, to my very great wonder-
ment, and I must admit to my very considerable fluster-
ation likewise, almost to the point of tumbling me into
the mud, out got a couple of Wood Ducks from the rails,
literally under my feet, with a prodigious bustle of wings
and quacking. If I had not so nearly tumbled into the
stream, ten to one I should have shot too quickly and
missed them both; but the little effort to recover my
footing gave me time to get cool again, and I bagged
them both. One was again the old duck, the other a
young drake of that season.

In the spring, the old duck selects her place in some

THE SUMMER DUCK. 209

snug, unsuspicious looking hole in some old tree near
the water edge, where, if unmolested, she will breed
many years in succession, carrying down her young
when ready to fly, in her bill, and placing them in the
water. ‘The drake is very attentive to the female while
she is laying, and yet more so while she is engaged in
the duties of incubation ; constantly wheeling about on
the wing among the branches, near the nest on which
she is sitting, and greeting her with a little undertoned
murmur of affection, or perching on a bough of the same
tree, as if to keep watch over her.

The following account of their habits is so true, and
the anecdote illustrating them so pretty and pleasing,
that I cannot refrain from quoting it, for the benefit of
those of my readers who may not be so fortunate as to
have cultivated a familiar friendship with the pages of
that eloquent pioneer of the natural history of the woods
and wilds and waters of America, the Scottish Wilson,
who has done more for that science than any dead or liv-
ing man, with the sole exception of his immortal suc-
cessor, the great and good Audubon; and whose works
will stand side by side with his, so long as truthfulness
of details, correctness of classification, eloquence of
style, and a pure taste and love for rural sounds and
sights shall command a willing audience. Speaking of
this bird he says—

“Tt is familiarly known in every quarter of the United
States, from Florida to Lake Ontario, in the neighbor-

210 AMERICAN GAME.

hood of which latter place I have myself met with it in
October. It rarely visits the sea-shore, or salt marshes,
its favorite haunts being the solitary, deep, and muddy
creeks, ponds and mill-dams of the interior, making its
nest frequently in old hollow trees that overhang the
water.

“The Summer Duck is equally well known in Mexico
and many of the West India Islands. During the whole
of our winters they are occasionally seen in the states
south of the Potomac. On the 10th of January I met
with two on a creek near Petersburgh, in Virginia. In
the more northern districts, however, they are migratory.
In Pennsylvania the female usually begins to lay late in
April, or early in May, Instances have been known
where the nest was constructed of a few sticks laid in a
fork of the branches; usually, however, the inside of a
hollow tree is selected for this purpose. On the 18th of
May I visited a tree containing the nest of a Summer
Duck, on the banks of the Tuckahoe River, New Jersey,
It was an old, grotesque white-oak, whose top had been
torn off by a storm. It stood on the declivity of the
bank, about twenty yards from the water. In this hol- °
low and broken top, and about six feet down, on the soft,
decayed wood, lay thirteen eggs, snugly covered with
down, doubtless taken from the breast of the bird.
These eggs were of an exact oval shape, less than those
of a hen, the surface exceedingly fine grained, and of
the highest polish, and slightly yellowish, greatly resem-

THE SUMMER DUCK. 211

bling old polished ivory. The egg measured two inches
and an eighth by one inch and a half. On breaking one
of them, the young bird was found to be nearly hatched,
but dead, as neither of the parents had been observed
about the tree during the three or four days preceding,
and were conjectured to have been shot.

“This tree had been occupied, probably, by the same
pair, for four successive years, in breeding time; the
person who gave me the information, and whose house
was within twenty or thirty yards of the tree, said that
he had seen the female, the spring preceding, carry down
thirteen young, one by one, in less than ten minutes.
She caught them in her bill by the wing or back of the
neck, and landed them safely at the foot of the tree,
whence she afterward led them to the water. Under
this same tree, at the time I visited it, a large sloop lay
on the stocks, nearly finished; the deck was not more
than twelve feet distant from the nest, yet notwithstand-
ing the presence and noise of the workmen, the ducks
would not abandon their old breeding place, but contin-
ued to pass out and in, as if no person had been near.
The male usually perched on an adjoining limb, and
kept watch while the female was laying, and also often
while she was sitting. A tame goose had chosen a hol-
low space at the root of the same tree, to lay and hatch
her young in.

“The Summer Duck seldom flies in flocks of more
than three or four individuals together, and most com-

212 AMERICAN GAME.

monly in pairs, or singly. The common note of the
drake is peet, peet ; but when, standing sentinel, he sees
danger, he makes a noise not unlike the crowing of a
young cock, oe eek-/ oe eek! Their food consists princi-
pally of acorns, seeds of the wild oats, and insects.”

Mr. Wilson states, as his opinion, that the flesh of this
lovely little duck is inferior in excellence to that of the
blue-winged teal. But therein I can by no means coin-
cide with him, as I consider it, in the Atlantic states,
inferior to no duck except the canvas-back, which is ad-
mitted facile princeps of all the duck tribe. The Sum-
mer Duck is in these districts probably the most grami-
nivorous and granivorous of the family, not affecting fish,
tadpoles, frogs or field-mice, all of which are swallowed
with great alacrity and rejoicing by the mallards, pin-
tails, and other haunters of fresh water streams and
lakes.

On the great lakes of the west and north, where all
the duck tribe feed to fattening on the wild rice and wild
celery, zizania aquatica and balisnertia Americana, no
one species is better than another, all being admirable ;
but in the course of an autumn spent on the northern
shores of Lake Huron and the rivers debouching into it,
and thence north-westward to Lake Superior, I do not
remember seeing any specimens of this beautiful bird,
though I feel sure that it cannot but exist in those waters,
which are in all respects so congenial to its habits.

Another peculiarity of this species, which I have

THE SUMMER DUCK. 213

repeatedly noticed, when it has not been disturbed by
any sudden noise or the pursuit of dogs, is thus neatly
touched upon by Mr. J. P. Giraud, Jr., the enthusiastic
and accomplished ornithologist of Long Island, whose
unpretending little volume should be the text book of
every sportsman in the land who has a taste for any
thing beyond mere wanton slaughter.

“Often when following those beautiful and rapid
streams that greatly embellish our country, in pursuit of
the angler’s beau ideal of sport, have I met with this
gayly-attired duck. Asif proud of its unrivalled beauty,
it would slowly rise and perform a circuit in the air,
seemingly to give the admiring beholder an. opportunity
of witnessing the gem of its tribe.” :

The Summer Duck is very easily domesticated, if the
eggs be taken from the nest and hatched under a hen,
and the young birds become perfectly tame, coming up
to the house or the barn-yard to be fed, with even more
regularity than the common domestic duck; nay, even
the old birds, if taken by the net and wing-tipped, will
soon become gentle and lose their natural shyness.

In the summer of 1843 I had the pleasure of seeing a
large flock of these lovely wild fowl perfectly gentle,
answering the call of their owner by their peculiar mur-
mur of pleasure, and coming, as fast as they could swim.
or run, to be fed by his hand.

This was at the beautiful place of the Hon. Mahlon
Dickinson, formerly a member of General Jackson’s cabi-

214 AMERICAN GAME,

net, not far from Morristown, in New Jersey, which issin-
gularly adapted for the rearing and domesticating these
Jere natura ; since it has, immediately adjoining the trim
and regular gardens, a long and large tract of beautiful
wild shrubbery, full of rare evergreens, and interspersed
with bright, cool springs and streamlets feeding many
ponds and reservoirs, where they can feed, and sport, and
breed, as undisturbed as in.the actual wilderness; while
the adjacent country being all tame and highly culti-
vated, they have no inducement to stray from their
abode.

Beside Summer Ducks, Mr. Dickinson had at the
period of my visit, Dusky Ducks, better known as Black
Ducks, Green-winged Teal, Golden-eyes, and, I think,
Widgeon; but the Summer Ducks were by far the’
tamest, as the Dusky Ducks were the wildest of the com-
pany. I should long ago have attempted to naturalize
them on my own place, but that a large river, the
Passaic, washing the lower end of my lawn and garden,
from which it would not be possible to exclude them, I
have felt that it is useless to attempt it, the rather that
there is a large patch of wild-rice immediately adjoining
me, which would tempt them to the water, whence they
would drift away with the current or the tide, and be lost
or shot in no time.

The best time for shooting and for eating these fowl is
late in October, when the acorns and beech-mast, of both
of which they are inordinately fond, lie thick and ripe

THE SUMMER DUCK. 215

on the woodland banks of the streams and pools they
love to frequent. And this reminds me of a little sketch,
illustrative of their habits, taken down almost verbatim,
from the lips of a right good fellow, and at that time a
right good sportsman also; though now, alas! the un-
timely loss of the inestimable blessing of eyesight has
robbed him, among other sources of enjoyment, of that
favorite and innocent pastime—the forest chase:

“ Are there ‘many Wood Ducks about this ‘season,
Tom?” asked Forester, affecting to be perfectly care-
less and indifferent to all that had passed. “Did you
kill these yourself?”

“There was a sight on them a piece back, but they’re
gittin’ scase—pretty scase now, I tell you. Yes, I shot
these down by Aunt Sally’s big spring-hole a Friday.
I'd been a lookin’ round, you see, to find where the quail
kept afore you came up here—for Pd a been expectin’
you a week and better—and I’d got in quite late, toward
sundown, with an outsidin’ bevy, down by the cedar
swamp, and druv ‘them off into the big bog meadows,
below Sugarloaf, and T[’d killed quite a bunch on them
—sixteen, I reckon, Archer; and there wasn’t but
eighteen when I lit on em’—and it was gittin’ pretty
well dark when I came to the big spring, and little Dash
was worn dead out, and I was tired, and hot, and thun-
derin’ thirsty, so I sets down aside the outlet where the
spring water comes in good and cool, and I was mixkin’
up a nice, long drink in the big glass we hid last sum-

216 AMERICAN GAME.

mer down in the mud-hole, with some great cider sper-
rits—when what should I hear all at once but whistle,
whistlin’ over head, the wings of a whole drove on ’em,
so up I buckled the old gun; but they’d plumped down
into the crick fifteen rpd off or better, down by the big
pin oak, and there they sot, seven ducks and two big
purple-headed drakes—beauties, I tell you. Well, boys,
I upped gun and tuck sight stret away, but just as I was
drawin’, I kind o’ thought Pd got two little charges of
number eight, and that to shoot,at ducks at fifteen rod
wasn’t nauthen. Well, then, I fell a thinkin’, and then
I sairched my pockets, and arter a piece found two green
cartridges of number three, as Archer gave me in the
spring, so ] drawed out the small shot, and inned with
these, and put fresh capson to besarten. But jest when
Td got ready, the ducks had floated down with the
stream, and dropped behind the pint—so I downed on
my knees, and crawled, and Dash alongside on me, for
all the world as if the darned dog knowed; well, I
crawled quite a piece, till I’'d got under a bit of alder
bush, and then I seen them—all in a lump like, except
two—six ducks and a big drake—feedin’, and stickin’
down their heads into the weeds, and flutterin’ up their
hinder eends, and chatterin’ and jokin’-—I could have
covered them all with a handkercher, exceptin’ two, as I
said afore, one duck and the little drake, and they was
off a rod or better from the rest, at the two different
sides of the stream—the big bunch warn’t over ten rods

THE SUMMER DUCK. Q17

off me, nor so far; so I tuck sight right-at the big
drake’s neck. The water was quite clear and still, and
seemed to have caught all the little light as was left by
the sun, for the skies had got pretty dark, I tell you;
and I could see his head quite clear agin the water—
well, I draw'd trigger, and the hull charge ripped into
*em—and there was a scrabblin’ and a squatterin’ in the
water now, I tell you—but not one on ’em riz—not the
fust one of the hull bunch; but up jumped both the
others, and I draw’d on the drake—more by the whistlin’
ot his wings, than-that I seen him—but I drawed stret,
Archer, any ways ; and arter I'd pulled half a moment I
hard him plump down into the crick with a splash, and
the water sparkled up like a fountain where he fell. So
then I didn’t wait to load, but ran along the bank as
hard as I could strick it, and when I'd got down to the
spot, I tell you, little Dash had got two on ’em out afore
I came, and was in with a third. Well, sich a cuttin’
and a splashin’ as there was you nivir did see, none on
you—I guess, for sartin—leastwise I nivir did. Vd
killed, you see, the drake and two ducks, dead at the
first fire, but three was only wounded, wing-tipped, aud
leg-broken, and I can’t tell you what all. It was all of
nine o’clock at night, and dark as all out doors, afore
I gathered them three ducks, but I did gather ’em;
Lord, boys, why ’d stayed till mornin’, but I'd a got
them, sarten. Well, the drake I killed flyin’ I could n’t

find him that night, no how, for the stream swept him
10

218 AMERICAN GAME.

down, and I[hadn’t got no-guide to go by, so I let hom
go then, but I was up next mornin’ bright and airly,
and started up the stream clean from the bridge here,
up through Garry’s back-side, and my bog-hole, and so
on along the meadows to Aunt Sally’s run—and looked
in every willow bush that dammed the waters back,
like, and every bunch of weeds and brier-brake, all the
way, and sure enough I found him, he’d been killed
dead, and floated down the crick, and then the stream
had washed him up into a heap of broken sticks and
briers, and when the waters fell, for there had been a
little freshet, they left him there breast uppermost—and
I was glad to find him—for I think, Archer, as that shot
was the nicest, prettiest, etarnal, darndest, long, good
shot, I iver did make, anyhow; and it was so dark J
could n’t see him.”

Many of his friends and mine will recognize the char-
acter, to whom I allude, as he figures largely in the
pages of “The Warwick Woodlands,” from which the
above extract is taken, of “ My Shooting-box,” and the
other sporting scenes of Frank Forester, wherein nothing
good or generous or kind is related of Tom Draw, that
does not fall far short of the reality.

Before closing this article, I will correct an error into
which I perceive I have inadvertently fallen in the first
page of it, wherein I said that this duck, alone of the
family, has the habit of perching, roosting, and nesting
on trees.

THE SUMMER DUCK. 219

I should have said alone of the American family ; for
I find a note by Mr. Brewer, the last editor of Wilson,
annexed to his article on our bird, which I prefer to
subjoin instead of merely making a verbal alteration,
since I doubt not many others are in the same error, who
will be glad to be corrected in detail. It appears, as.
will be seen below, that, although there are no European
tree-ducks, nor any other American, there is a family of

_ Asiatic and African congeners of our Summer Duck, for
which an especial name has been proposed, though not
as yet generally adopted. I might add that the present
Latin name of our bird, anas sponsa, signifies, being
interpreted, the bride duck, from the rare elegance of its
form and beauty of its plumage—a pretty name for a
pretty creature.

“These lovely ducks may be said to represent an
incessorial form among the anatidw; they build and
perch on trees, and spend as much time on land as upon
the waters; Dr. Richardson has given this group, con-
taining few members, the title of dendronessa from their
arboreal habits. Our present species is the only one
belonging to America, where it ranges rather to the
south than north ; the others, I believe, are all confined
to India. They are remarkable for the beauty and
splendor of their plumage, its glossy, silky texture, and
for the singular form of the scapulars, which, instead of
an extreme development in length, receive it in the con-
trary proportion of breadth ; and instead of lying flat, in

220 AMERICAN GAME.

some stand perpendicular to the back. They are all
adorned with an ample crest, pendulous, and running
down the back of the neck. They are easily domesti-
cated, but I do not know that they have been yet of
much utility in this state, being more kept on account
of their beauty, and few have been introduced except to
our menageries; with a little trouble at first, they might
form a much more common ornament about our artificial
pieces of water. It is the only form of a Tree Duck
common to this continent; in other countries there are,
however, two or three others of very great importance
in the natural system, whose structure and habits have
yet been almost entirely overlooked or lost sight of.
These seem to range principally over India, and more
sparingly in Africa; and the Summer Duck is the soli-
tary instance, the United States the nearly extreme
limit, of its own peculiarities in this division of the
world.”

With this note I close this paper, expressing only the
hope that the bird -will become more largely domestica-
,ted ; as no more beautiful adornment can be conceived
to the parks and shrubberies of gentlemen, such more
especially as possess the advantages of small inland
rivulets, or pieces of ornamental water, whether natural
or artificial.

Cervus Virginianus,

THE AMERICAN DEER.

THE AMERICAN DEER.

Cervus Virginianus.

Tus beautiful and noble animal, formerly so abundant
in every part of the United States, from the Great Lakes
tothe ocean, and from the eastern boundaries of Maine
to the southern limit of their vast empire, is peculiar to
the continent of America, and differs entirely from each
of the three European species, with two of which it has
been at times confounded, and even more markedly
from all the African and Asiatic varieties.

The deer of Europe, and of Great Britain in particular,
from which country we have derived most of our sport-
ing propensities and traditions, and I might add all our
sporting nomenclature, consist of three very distinct
species. These are, first, the Red Deer, which is now
found only in the Highlands of Scotland, with the
exception of a few in Somerset and Devon, and the
extreme western wilds of Ireland. The male of these is
known as the Stag or Hart, and the female as the Hind.
This is a magnificent and imposing creature, handsomer

222 AMERICAN GAME,

even and more stately than our deer, with branched
antlers exactly similar to those of our great western Elk,
though of inferior size. :

Second, the Fallow Deer, the species usually kept ina
semi-domesticated state in the parks of the nobility and
gentry, both as an ornament to the scenery, and as an
article of luxury for the table. This is a beautiful and
graceful creature, far less stately than the Red Deer, or
the denizen of our forests, but slightly and symmetrically
moulded, and the very beaw ideal of grace and airy
motion. It has flattened or palmated horns, about mid-
way in form between those of the Moose and Cariboo, or.
American Reindeer, though, of course, proportionally
smaller. In color, the Fallow Deer differs materially
from all the other species, and is itself by no means
uniform, some individuals being almost black, and others
nearly white; the majority are, however, beautifully
dappled, and some pied, with tints of brown fawn color
and yellowish white.

The Fallow Deer is not believed to be indigenous to
Great Britain, nor indeed to Europe, being, I imagine,
of oriental origin ; nor is it found any where in a state
of nature or at large; being confined exclusively in
parks or chases of more or less extensive range, often
including large tracts of forest land; and it has been
observed that the wilder the character of the park, and
the more broken and forest-like the nature of the soil,
especially when it produccs heather or fern in abun-

THE AMERICAN DEER. 223

dance, the wilder and more gamy is the flavor of the
venison.

The third variety is the Roe, a native of all the wilder
and more broken forest regions of Great Britain, both
north and south, though they are few in number as
compared with either of the other species. They are
much smaller than the Red or Fallow Deer, of a uniform
reddish-brown color, and are distinguished by small erect
horns, with a single prong in front. Of the two last
species the male is known as the buck, the female as the
doe.

The American Deer‘in size, color, the branched for-
mation of its antlers, and the character of its flesh, most
nearly resembles the Red Deer of Europe, but is clearly
distinguished from that animal by some peculiarities in
its structure and by the shape of its horns. In the
European Red Deer, the direction of the main stem of
the antlers is directly backward, all the branches or
prongs springing from the anterior side and pointing
forward, the lowest on each side, or brow antler, which
is the principal defense of the animal against his natural
enemies, the wolf and dog, bending forward and down-
ward on the outer side of the brow and eye.

In the American Deer, the main stem at first inclines
backward for about half its length, but then turns for-
ward with a bold curve, and terminates in a sharp
deflected point, all the prongs, which are sometimes
themselves bifid, and even trifid, arising from the poste-

224 AMERICAN GAME,

rior side, and arising from it in a forward and upward
direction. The only exception to this is the brow antler,
a short erect spike, which arises from the inner and
anterior surface of the principal stem.

In color the American Deer is generally of a reddish-
brown, or fulvous tint, darker above, and pure white on
. the chin, throat, belly, and inside of the forelegs, the
upper:parts being more or less diversified with cinereous
gray, or bluish hairs. These become more numerous
during the summer, and in the autumn, and during the
winter the whole animal assumes a grayer tint. The
ears are margined with dark brown, and are white
within, the upper side of the tail is of the same color
with the upper parts in general, and is white below.
The hoofs are jet black.

The female is smaller than the male, and hornless, but
otherwise resembles him exactly ; the fawns are beauti-
fully spotted with irregular white spots on a fulvous or
tawny ground. The male is generally known as the
buck, and the female as the doe; though, for my own
part, I consider from their greater analogy to the Euro-
pean Red Deer than to any other variety, that Hart and
Hind would be the more correct and sportsmanlike
nomenclature. This is, however, at best but a subordi-
nate matter, and need not be insisted on, especially until
the graver and more important errors in sporting nomen-
clature, among the birds and fishes especially, have been
corrected.

THE AMERICAN DEER. 225

The deer has usually but one, never more than two
fawns at a birth. In the southern parts of the State of
New York these are for the most part dropped in May
and June, but further north, somewhat earlier in the
year. During the rutting season the males are bold and
extremely pugnacious among themselves, although not
like the Red Deer capable of attacking men without
provocation. The ery of the deer when alarmed is a
quick, tremulous whistling sound, accompanied by a
stamp of the foot; when mortally wounded they will at
times utter a faint bleat like that of a young calf.

In its habits the American Deer is, for the most part,
except in the vast prairies of the West, a wcodland
haunter, as, according to Catallus, was the deer of Greece
and Asia Minor, which, in his comprehensive and
picturesque compound he describes as sylvicultrix, the
haunter of the woodlands, and in this respect it differs
from the Red Deer of Great Britain, which prefers the
difficult and craggy mountain-tops, or the far-extended
downs covered with waving heather to the dark pine
woods of the Scottish Highlands, or the beautiful oak
coppices of Devonshire.

__By law the killing of the American Deer has gene-
rally been restricted in most States to the months between
August and December, both inclusive, but so rapid is
the progress of annihilation going on with these beauti-
ful animals that in some counties of New York the only

months during which it is lawful to take them, are Sep-
10*

226 AMERICAN GAME.

tember, October, and November. All legislation, how-
ever, on the subject of game preservation would seem to
be hopeless, so long as the whole tone and spirit.of the
popular mind of the masses is regulary set against their
enforcement. Nothing, indeed, is more singular or more
‘to be lamented than the strange perversion of intellect
which seems to have come over the whole body of the
white settlers of North America, whether of Canada,
New Brunswick, the Atlantic States, or the far West,
leading them to wage incessant and merciless war on
every wild animal, whether of fur, fin, or feather,
slaughtering them at all times, and in. all places, in
season and out of season; when their flesh is nutritive
and delicious, when it is utterly unfit for the food of
man; when their peltries or feathers are commercially
valuable, when they are worthless; slaughtering them
wantonly and recklessly for the mere love of slaughter,
and often leaving their carcases to decay in the depths
of the forest, until they are becoming all but extinct, as
in a few years they unquestionably will, unless sounder
views shall hereafter prevail. The willful waste and
wanton annihilation of the buffalo in the West; the
knocking on the head of the deer, in New York and
Pennsylvania, with clubs, by snow-shoe mounted ruffians,
during the deep snows of winter, when their flesh and
hides are alike valueless—and that literally by tens of
thousands ; and the sweeping the spawning beds of the
salmon with the seine, and persecuting the spent and

“ THE AMERICAN DEER. 297

worthless fish with spear and torch, till they have disap-
peared from their most favorite rivers in the British
Provinces, are all forms of this same wanton, wicked, I
had well nigh said fiendish spirit, which is really a char-
acteristic, as I have observed, of the white settler of
every part of America.

It is an absurdity to say that the spread of civilization
and culture has destroyed the game, for it is a well-
known fact that game of all sorts increases in the very
same ratio in which cultivation increases, if left unmo-
lested in their seasons of reproduction, nesting, spawn-
ing, or tending their helpless young, so long as a suffi-
ciency of woodland is left to afford them shelter.

In Scotland, the Red Deer, which are strictly pre-
served, so far as the prohibition to kill them out of
season goes, but neither fed, tended, nor herded, are and
have been for years rapidly on the increase; and it
would probably be within the mark to say that there are
at this instant fifty times as many Red Deer in the small
space to the northward of the Highland line, thar in all
the States between Maine and the Delaware. In the
eastern and northern parts of Maine, they are still plen-
tiful despite the sedulous efforts of the lumber-men to
annihilate the race, and the occasional devastation of the
wolves. In the northern parts of Vermont, Massachu-
setts, and Connecticut, a few are still to be found, though
they are but as individuals compared to the vast herds
which were wont to roam those green glades and wild

228. AMERICAN GAMI.

mountain pastures. -With the exception of a few on
Long Island, in the northern counties, and about the still
wild banks of the Delaware, in New York, they are
already extinct. In New Jersey, with a small wretched
remnant of the once as abundant heath-hen, prairie-fowl,
‘or pinnated grouse, a few straggling deer may still be
found in that remote and little traversed region called
from its prevailing growth, the pines, lying along the
Atlantic coast. Elsewhere they exist not. To the west-
ward of Pennsylvania, and through the South, even so
far as Texus and New Mexico, through the West to the
Rocky Mountains, and northward through both the
Canadas, they are still abundant, and will continue so, it
may be expected, for .some years to come—in the
Canadas and the Southern States especially, where the
laws for their preservation are rigidly enforced, and
where the greater number of educated men and gentry
settled throughout the rural districts, have produced
some effect on the mind of the masses as regards the
wholesale and useless extinction of game out of season.

The modes of pursuing and taking this fine animal,
whether for pleasure or profit, are almost innumerable,
but of these almost all partake of the poaching or pot-
hunting system too much to obtain from me more than a
mere passing notice.

The first and most generally practiced of these is what
is variously called driving, or stand-hunting, in which
the shooters are placed on the circuit of a certain tract

THE AMERICAN DEER. 229

of woodlands, each one at the debouchure of a deer-path,
upon some lake, streamlet, or road which it may chance
to intersect, while the interior of the circuit is beat by
drivers and hounds, which force the deer from the tract
by one or other of the paths; and than this, although it
has, I know, its passionate votaries, I can conceive no
duller, more poacher-like, or iess exciting sport—if sport
it must be called.

The standing shivering, or sweltering for hours, as it
may chance to be in August or in December, at a run-
way, perhaps not once hearing the hounds even at a
distance from morn till dewy eve; perhaps catching for
a moment the volume of their cadenced cry, only to
hear it die away in the distance until the crack of a
remote rifle tells you that the deed is done, and that not
unto you is the doing of it; perhaps, if you have the
very best luck of it, hearing the cry come nigher, nigher,
swelling momently on the ear, hearing the bushes
shaken, and the dry sticks crackling under a rapid foot,
and then to complete the whole, seeing a great, timid,
trembling, helpless beast driven up to within ten feet of

‘the muzzle of your shot-gun or rifle, which, after whist-
ling or bleating at him to compel him to stop short in
his tracks and stand motionless as a mark for your buck-
shot practice, you incontinently butcher in cold blood.

Yet a more scurvy mode than this, of deer-hunting, is
practiced by night, under the name of fire-hunting, in
two different ways, either by floating and paddling in

230 AMERICAN GAME.

canoes along the margin of streams and brooks to which
the deer come down to feed, having a light elevated in
the bows upon a plank which partially conceals the
person of the shooter—or by walking stealthily through
the woods with a fire-pan supported by a staff, and filled
with blazing light wood knots, carried before you by an
assistant, close in whose wake you crawl along, with
ready gun, prepared for secret murder. Seeing the
mysterious lights through the glimmering twilight of the
woods, the timid deer stands at gaze half curious, half
fascinated, until the strong reflected light falling on the
balls of his distended eyes, makes them glare out like
balls of fire, and enables his dastardly associate to point
“the deadly tube directly at the centre of his broad fair
brow between them, and so to slay him unsuspecting.
Worse yet, indeed worst of all, where all are bad and
base, is the practice borrowed from the Indian, who
killing not for sport but for necessity, not to gratify the
hunter’s gallant zeal, but to supply his wigwam with
food for its inmates, at all times killed from ambush,
and never discharging an arrow but when he wassure of
killing—is the practice, I say, of lying in ambush by
some salt-lick, or spring to which the deer comes down
to drink, and, well concealed to the leeward of his path,
to shoot him down without difficulty, as without excite-
ment.
The more legitimate modes—the only modes to which
I think the true sportsman will resort—are deer-stalking,

THE AMERICAN DEER. 231

or as it is called still-hunting, in the north—hunting the
Hart manfully and gallantly with fleet horses, and a cry
of well-matched and tuneful fox-hounds, with the blythe
view halloa, and the cheery blast of the key-bugle, with
the chivalric sportsmen of the sunny south—and last,
not least, coursing him with a leash of fleet greyhounds,
or, better yet, a leash of the tall, wire-haired, rough-
coated deer-hounds of the Scottish Highlands, over the
wild and verdant prairies of the West.

The first of these methods is the only one, which the
rough, craggy, and mountainous character of the forest-
land frequented by deer in the Northern States, which
horses cannot for the most part traverse at all, certainly
not at speed, will allow the hunter to adopt; and if it
lack the maddening excitement of galloping over bush,
bank, and scaur, taking bold leaps, and striding irresist-
ible over ravine or gully, over fallen tree or rough rail-
fence, with the fierce music of the hounds stirring your
brain almost to madness, it requires at least so many
qualitiés of skill and science, such quickness of eyesight, °
such instinctive calculation of causes and effects, such
Indian-like power of following the faintest trail, of
detecting by the displacement of a yellow leaf, by the
disordered foliage of a broken bush, or the broken bark
on a frayed sapling, whither and when, and at what pace
the object of pursuit has passed that way, that by the
consciousness of, and confidence in your own self-power,
~ self-energy, and self-sufficiency to all emergencies, that

232 AMERICAN GAME.

it must be considered as a sport, and as one of a high
and noble order. To these advantages again are to be-
added the wild and glorious haunts of nature into which
it leads our vagrant footsteps—the springs, fitted to be
the baths of brighter nymphs than any of those who
trod immortal, Dryads or Oreads of Delia’s train, by
which we eat our frugal meal, and with which we qualify
our temperate cups—the high and liberal mountain-tops,
visited by a clearer and more lustrous sunshine, fanned
by a purer and more exhilarating air, than any known to
the sleek citizen, to which we climb, led by the fierce
excitement of pursuit; and then the ruddy watch-fire
silently blazing in the depths of the mysterious wilder-
ness before the bark-roofed shanty, before the hemlock
bed, which shelter and console us after the long tramp
and the hurried chase—the awakening to the cries of the
early birds, in the fresh gray of the awakening dawn,
the delicious bath in the clear basin of the mountain-
torrent, the woodman’s morning meal of trout or venison,
cooked by the glowing embers, and eaten with no better
condiments than appetite and exercise and health may
furnisli—all these—all these are the delights which add
so inspiriting a charm to the North Country still-hunt,
and half tempt the dwellers of pent cities to abandon
the culture, the luxury, the companionship, and the civ-
ilization of gentlemen, for the more congenial toils and
more inspiriting delights of the woodman’s life.

THE AMERICAN DEER. 233

That is an aspiration: which all men, who have tasted
of the freshness, the originality, the primitive elastic
vigor of the woodland life, untrammeled by no formule,
fettered by no false and absurd conventionalities, a life
emphatically of men, desire to taste again—yearn after
it, how eagerly, when debarred from it by the hateful
necessities of business—and, when they return to it,
after years of desuetude, greet it as old men would greet
renewed manhood, or exiles restored home. This is the
feeling which is so instinct of life, and sunshine, and
breezy freshness in the writings of the earlier and more
original of England’s poets—which prompted one great
Roman to cry mournfully, “ O rus, O rus, quando ego te
aspiciam,” and another to admit half apologetically, as
if it were in some sort a reproach, “ /lumina amem et

> and in all breasts a

sylvas mutosque inglorius ammnes ;”
something of this hunter’s spirit, under one form or
other will burst perennial, until we go whither the weary
are at rest, and the wicked cease from troubling. And
a good spirit it is, in moderation, and good to be
indulged—and so up with the forest chaunt.

So it is—yet let us sing

Honor to the old bowstring !
Honor to the bugle horn! \
Honor to the woods unshorn !
Honor to the Lincoln green !
Honor to the wocdman keen!

234 AMERICAN GAME.

and health, and joy, and success still increasing to the
bold, the fair, the gallant hunter, as all ill-fortunes and
most foul reverses to the disloyal pot-hunter, the low and
sordid poacher of whatever land he be!

ix
SEPTEMBER.
Che Green-GHinged Ceal.

Anas Cardinensis,

Che Dlue-GHinged Teal.

Anas Discors,

CANADA; BRITISH PROVINCES; UNITED STATES,

‘suoosig soupy "TAAL CIONIM-SATE FHL
-sysuaupoup souy “TALL GQTONIM-NATUD AHL

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL.

Anas Carolinensis.

THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL.

Anas Discors.

In this present month, the sport of duck-shooting on
the inland streams, rivers, and lakelets, may be held to
commence in earnest, as contrasted to the pursuit of the
same tribes on the outer bays, estuaries, and surf-banks.
‘About the end of September, and thenceforth through
this and the next ensuing month, according to the varia-
tions of the’seasons, and the longer or shorter endurance
of that delicious time, the most delicious and most gor-
geous of the whole American year, known throughout
this continent as Indian Summer, the Mallard, and the
two beautiful species which we have placed at the head
of this article, begin to make their appéarance on the
little lakes of the interior, and in the various streams
and rivers which fall into them, and thence downward to
the Atlantic seaboard.

In the vast northern solitudes of the great lakes of the
northwest, in all the streams of Upper Canada, even to

238 AMERICAN GAME.

the feeders of Lake Superior, and throughout the western
country so far south as Texas, and northward to the
Columbia and the fur countries, the Blue-Winged Teal
breeds, literally by myriads. Throughout the great
lakes, it is abundant in the early autumn, becoming
excessively fat on the seed of the wild ‘rice, with which
the shallows of all these waters are overgrown, and being
deservedly esteemed as one of the best, if not the very
best, of the duck tribe. But it is the first of its race to
remove from the wild, limpid waters, and wood-embo-
somed rivers of the great west, to the seaboard tide-waters,
taking the inland water-courses on their route, rarely
visiting the actual sea-shores, and proceeding on the
occurrence of the first frosts, for they are singularly sus-
ceptible of cold, to the Southern States, where they swarm,
especially in the inundated rice-fields of Georgia and
South Carolina, during the winter months.

The Green-Winged Teal, which is the nearest con-
gener, and frequently the associate of the Blue-Wing,
has a far less extensive range, so far as regards its breed-
ing-grounds, in as much as it never, so far as has been
satisfactorily shown, has nidificated or produced its
young south of the great lakes, nor even there in great
numbers, its favorite haunts for the purposes of repro-
duction, being the extreme northern swamps and wooded
morasses, almost up to the verge of the arctic circles.
It does not come down on its southward migration, at
nearly so early a period of the autumn as its congener,

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 239

being less susceptible of cold, and tarrying on the Great
Lakes till the frosts set in with sufficient severity to pre-
vent its frequenting its favorite haunts with pleasure, or
obtaining its food with facility. It is rarely or never
seen in the Middle States during the summer, but is
tolerably abundant during the autumn on all the marshy
lakes and pools, and along the shores of all the reedy
rivers from the Great Lakes downward to the sea-board,
though, like the last named species, it is purely a fresh-
water duck, never frequenting the sea-shores or salt-bays,
finding no food thereon with which to gratify its delicate
and fastidious palate, which, eschewing fish, the larve
of insects, and the lesser crustacw, relishes only the
seeds of the various water plants and grasses, the tender
leaves of some vegetables, and more especially the grain
of the wild rice, Zizania panicula effusa, which is its
favorite article of subsistence, and one to which may be
ascribed the excellence of every bird of air or water
which feeds on it, from the Rice-Bird and the Rail, to
the Teal, the Canvass-Back, and even the large Thick-
Billed Fudigula, closely allied to the Scoter, the Velvet
Duck, and other uneatable sea-fowl of Lake Huron,
which are scarcely, if at all, inferior to the Red-Heads
of Chesapeake Bay, the Gunpowder, or the Potomac.
On the Susquehanna and the Delaware, both these
beautiful little ducks were in past years excessively
abundant, so that a good gunner, paddling one. of the
sharp, swift skiffs peculiar to those waters, was certain

240 AMERICAN GAME.

of filling his boat with these delicious ducks within a few
hours’ shooting. Both of these species are rather tame
than otherwise, the blue-winged bird more particularly
which has a habit, on the lower waters of the Delaware
especially, of congregating on the mud in vast flocks,
sunning themselves in the serene and golden light of a
September noon, so careless and easy of approach, that
the gunner is frequently enabled to paddle his skiff
within a few yards of them, and to rake them with close
discharges of his heavy batteries. At times, when the
tide is out, and the birds are assembled on the flats out
of gunshot from the water’s edge, the thorough-going
sportsman, reckless of wet feet or muddy breeches, will
run his skiff ashore, several hundred yards above or
below the flock, and getting cautiously overboard, will
push it before him over the smooth, slippery mud-fats,
keeping himself carefully concealed under its stern until
within gunshot, which he can sometimes reduce to so
little as fifteen or twenty yards, by this murderous and
stealthy method. The Green-Winged Teal is much. less
apt to congregate, especially on shore, than the other,
and consequently affords less sport to the boat-shooter,
keeping for the most part afloat in little companies, or
trips, as they are technically called, very much on the
alert, and springing rapidly on the wing when disturbed.
They, and the Blue-Wings also, fly very rapidly, dodging
occasionally on the wing, not unlike to a wild, sharp-
flying Woodcock, and when they alight, darting down-

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 241

ward with a short, sudden twist among the reeds or
rushy covert, exactly after the fashion of the same bird.

The commoner and, in our opinion—where these birds
are abundant either along the courses of winding drains
or streamlets, or in large reedy marshes, with wet soil
and occasional pools or splashes—far the more exciting
way of killing them is to go carefully and warily on foot,
with a good medium-sized double-gun, say of eight to ten
pounds weight, and a thoroughly well broke and steady
spaniel, to retrieve and occasionally to flush the birds,
which will sometimes, though rarely, lie very hard. A
good sportsman will frequently, thus late in the autumn,
when the mornings are sharp and biting, and the noons
warm and hazy, but before the ice makes, pick up, on
favorable ground, his eight or nine couple in a day’s
walking, with a chance of picking up at the same time a
few Snipe, Golden Plovers, Curlew, or Godwit; and this,
in onr mind, is equal to slaughtering a boat load by
sneaking up in ambush to within twenty yards of a great
company, whistling to make them lift their heads and
ruffle up their loosened plumage, so as to give easy
entrance to the shot, and then pouring into them at half
point-blank range, a half pound of heavy shot.

“In the southern States they are commonly taken,”
says Wilson, in “vast numbers, in traps placed on the
small dry eminences that here and there rise above the
water of the inundated rice-fields. These places are

strewed with rice, and by the common contrivance
11

242 : AMERICAN GAME.

called a figure four, they are caught alive in hollow
traps.” This we, of course, merely mention as illus-
trative of the habits of the bird; for, of course, no sports-
man would dream of resorting to so worse than poacher-
like proceeding. The mode described by the eloquent.
pioneer of American natural history, is probably prac-
tised, for the most part, by the negroes for the supply
of their masters’ table, and furnishing their own pockets
with a little extra change, and is not used by the plant-
ers as a means of ‘sport or amusement. It must be
remembered, also, that Wilson, than whom there is no
writer more to be relied on in matters which he relates
of his own knowledge, and as occurring in his own days,
must often be taken cum grano salis, as to the numbers
of birds slain in this way or that within a certain time—
things which he records, probably, on hearsay, and on
which—we are sorry to say it—even good sportsmen,
men who on any other subject would scorn to deviate
one hair’s breadth from the truth, will not hesitate to
draw a bow as long and as strong as Munchausen’s.
Again, he writes of times when sporting was but little
pursued, otherwise than as a method of procuring supe-
rior food for the table, or for the purpose of destroying
noxious vermin and beasts of prey; when the rules of-
sportsmanship were little understood and as little re-
garded ; and, lastly, when game abounded to a degree
literally inconceivable in our day—although we have
ourselves seen, with sorrow, the diminution, amounting

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 243

in many regions around our large cities almost to ex-
tinction, of all birds and beasts—nay, but even fish of
chase, within the last twenty years. We must be care-
ful therefore not to charge exaggeration on a writer who
beyond a doubt, faithfully recorded that which he him-
self saw and enjoyed in his day; which we might see
likewise and enjoy in our generation, and our children
and grand-children after us, if it were not forthe greedy,
stupid, selfish, and brutal pot-hunting propensities of our
population, alike rural of the country and mechanical ot
the cities, which seems resolutely and of set purpose
bent on the utter annihilation of every species of game,
whether of fur, fin, or feather, which is yet found within
our boundaries.

In my opinion, the common error of. all American
fowlers and duck shooters, lies, in the first place, in the
overloading the gun altogether, causing it to recoil so
much as to be exceedingly disagreeable and even pain-
ful and in the same degree diminishing the effect of the
discharge ; for it must never be forgotten that when a
gun recoils, whatever force is expended on the retro-
gressive motion of the breech, that same force is to be
deducted from the propulsion of the charge. In the
second place, he erroneously loads with extremely large
and heavy shot, the result of which is, in two respects,
inferior to that of a lighter and higher number. First,
as there will be three or four pellets of No. 4 for every
one pellet of A or B in a charge, and, consequently, as

244 AMERICAN GAME.

the load is thereby so much the more regularly distrib-
uted, and so much the more likely to strike the object,
and that in several places more, in the ratio of three or
four to one, than could be effected by A’s or B’s.
Second, as the flesh will constantly close over the wound
made by a small shot, so as to cause the bleeding to go
on internally to the engorgement of the tissues and suf-
focation by hemorrhage; whereas the wound made by
the large grain will relieve itself by copious bleeding,
and the bird so injured will oftentimes recover, after
having fallen evento the surface of the water, or lain
flapping, as it were, in the death-struggle on the blood-
stained sand or grassy hassocks. This fact has been well
noticed, and several examples adduced to prove its
truth, by Mr. Giraud, in his exceedingly clear and
correct, though to our taste, far too brief volume on the
“ Birds of Long Island.”

For my own use I invariably adopt for all the smaller
species of duck—as the two varieties of Teal, the
Summer Duck, the Golden Eye, and the Buffel-headed
Duck, Anates, Carolinensis, Discors, Sponsa, and Fuli-
gule, Clangula, and Albeola—the same shot which is
generally used for the various birds known on our shores
and rivers as bay-snipe, viz: No. 4 or 5—the latter best
for the Plovers, the former for duck, whether in large or
small guns. In this relation I may observe that, on one
occasion—the only one, by the way, on which I ever
saw a green-winged teal in the summer season—I killed

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 945

a couple of these beautiful birds, right and left, while
woodcock shooting, in Orange County, New York, with
No. 8shot. They sprang quite unexpectedly from behind
a willow bush, on the Wawayanda creek, and I dropped
them both quite dead, somewhat to my own astonish-
ment, and to the utter astounding of Fat Tom, who
witnessed it, into the middle of the stream, respectively
«+ twenty and twenty-five yards distance. Until I recov-
ored them I supposed that they were young wood ducks,
but on examination they proved to be young green-
winged teal, of that season, in their immature plumage.
This must have been in the last week of July or the first
of August—it was many years since, and as at that time
I kept no shooting diary, I unfortunately am unable to
verify the exact date. The birds must, I conclude, have
been bred in that vicinity, by what means I cannot con-
jecture, unless that the parent birds might have been
wounded in the spring, and disabled from completing
their northern migration, and that this, as is sometimes
the case with the minor birds of passage, might have
superinduced their breeding in that, for them, far south-
ern region. In corroboration of this I may add that, in
the spring of 1846, a couple of these birds haunted a
small reedy island in front of my house, on the Passaic,
to so late a day in summer—the 29th, if I do not err, of
May—that I sedulously avoided disturbing them, in the
hope that they would breed there. This I yet think
would have been the case but for the constant disturb-

246 AMERICAN GAME.

ance of that lovely river throughout the summer by
gangs of ruffianly loafers, with whom the neighboring
town of Newark abounds beyond any other town of its
size in the known world, boating upon its silvery surface
day and night, and rendering day and night equally
hideous with their howls and blasphemies.

Before proceeding to the description of these birds it
is well to observe that it will be found the better way,
in approaching them, as indeed ad?Z wild fowl, to work,
if possible, up wind to them; not that wild fowl have
the power, as some pretend, of scenting the odor of the
human enemy on the tainted gale, as is undoubtedly the
case with deer and many other quadrupeds, but that
their hearing is exceedingly acute, and that their heads
are pricked up to listen, at the occurrence of the least
unusual sound, and at the next moment—Aey, presto /—
they are off.

The little cut at the head of this paper, for the spirited
and faithful execution of which the author and artist
must be permitted to return his acknowledgments to his
_ friend, Mr. Brightly, represents a favorite feeding-ground
of the various tribes of water fowl, as is indicated by
the large gaggle of geese passing over, from right to
left, and the trip of green-wings alighting to the call of
a clamorous drake in the background. On a rocky spur
of the shore, in the right foreground, is a male Green-
Winged Teal, in the act of springing, with his legs
already gathered under him 3; and, still nearer to the front

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 247

of the picture, on the right, a Blue-Winged Drake,
swimming on the limpid water, soliciting his congener,
with reverted neck, and the harsh gabble—whence his
name—to take wing and greet the new-comers—it being
the object of the draftsman to give an idea not merely
of the markings and form of these two most beautiful
and graceful of the duck tribe, but of their motions, the
character of their flights, and the nature of their feeding-
grounds and habitations.

The head of the Green-Winged Teal is of moderate
size and compressed ; the bill nearly as long as the head,
deeper than broad at the base, depressed at the tip;
neck slender, of moderate length; body full and
depressed ; wings rather small, feet short and rather far
back.

The plumage is short and blended ; that of the hinder
head and neck elongated into a soft filamentous droop-
ing crest. The bill is black ; iris hazel; feet light blue ;
head and upper part of neck bright chestnut brown; a
broad band of shining rich bottle-green, narrowing from
the eye backward and downward to the nape, margined
below with black, anterior to which is a white line;
chin dusky brown. Upper parts and flanks white,
beautifully and closely undulated with narrow lines of
deep gray. Anterior to the wings is a broad transverse
lunated white bar—this alone distinguishing the Ameri-
can from the European bird. The wing coverts, scapu-
lars and quills gray. The speculum bright green above,

248 AMERICAN GAME.

blue-black below, margined posteriorly with pure white.
Tail brownish gray, margined with paler brown. Lower
part of the neck undulated, like the back. Breast pale
rufous, spotted and banded with black; white below.
Abdomen white, barred with gray. A black patch
under the tail; the lateral tail coverts tawny, the larger
black, white-tipped and margined. Length of male
bird, 142.24. Female, 133.223.

The description and drawing of this bird are taken, by
kind permission, which the writer gratefully acknowl-
edges, from a fine specimen in the Academy of Natural
Science of this city.

The Blue-Winged Teal is rather larger than the above,
the male measuring 16.31}, the female 15.24.

The shape and proportions of this bird closely resem-
ble those of the latter, but in plumage it widely differs
from it. The bill is blueish black; iris dark hazel; feet
dull yellow, webs dusky ; upper part of the head black,
a semilunar patch of pure white, margined with black
anterior to the eye; the rest of the head and upper neck
deep purplish gray, with changeable ruddy reflections.
The lower hind neck, back, alula, and upper parts genc-
rally, rich chocolate brown, every feather margined with
‘paler tints, from reddish buff to pale reddish gray, with
black central markings, changing to metallic green in
the centres. Upper wing coverts rich ultra-marine blue,
with a metallic lustre; the lower parts pale reddish
orange, shaded on the breast with purplish red, ond

THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. 249

thickly spotted with roundish or elliptical black spots ;
axillary feathers, lower wing coverts, and a patch on the
side of the rump, pure white; lower tail coverts brown-
ish black.

These, with the exception of the Buffel-Headed Duck,
are the two smallest; with the exception of the Summer
Duck, the two loveliest; with the exception of the Can-
vas-Back the two best of the duck tribe. Well met be
they, whether on the board or in the field—shot be they
with No. 4—eaten roast, underdone, with cayenne and a
squeeze of a lemon, lubricated with red wine, quantum

suff.

x
OCTOBER.

Che Quail.
Ortyx Virginianus. ~

THE AMERICAN PARTRIDGE.
CANADA WEST; MASSACHUSETTS TO MEXICO.

Che Bittern.

Ardea Lentiginosa,
THE QUAWK. THE DUNKADOO.

CANADA; BRITISH PROVINCES; UNITED STATES,

Perdiz Virginianus.

THE AMERICAN QUAIL, OR VIRGINIA PARTRIDGE. Ortyz Virginianus.

THE AMERICAN QUAIL, OR VIRGINIA
PARTRIDGE.

Ortye Virginianus. Perdix Virginianus.

Novemser is upon us—hearty, brown, healthful Novem-
ber, harbinger of his best joys to the ardent sportsman,
and best beloved to him of all the months of the great
annual cycle; November, with its clear, bracing, west-
ern breezes; its sun, less burning, but how far more
beautiful than that of fierce July, as tempered now and
softened by the rich, golden haze of Indian summer,
quenching his torrent rays in its mellow, liquid lustre,
and robing the distant hills with wreaths of purple light,
half mist, half shrouded sunshine ; November, with its
wheat and buckwheat stubbles, golden or bloody red;
with its sere maize leaves rustling in the breeze, whence
the quail pipes incessant ; with its gay woodlands flaunt-
ing in their many-colored garb of glory ; with its waters
more clearly calm, more brilliantly transparent than
those of any other season ; November, when the farmer’s
toils have rendered their reward, and his reaped harvests
glut his teeming garners, so that he too, like the pent

254 AMERICAN GAME.

denizen of swarming cities, may take his leisure with
his gti “in the wide vale, or by the deep wood-side,”
and enjoy the rapture of those sylvan sports which he
may not participate in sweltering July, in which they
are alas! permitted by ill-considered legislation, in
every other state, save thine, honest and honorable
Massachusetts.*

In truth there is no period of the whole year so well
adapted, both by the seasonable climate, and the state
of the country, shorn of its crops, and not now to be
injured by the sportsman’s steady stride, or the gallop
of his high-bred setters, both by the abundance of game
in the cleared stubbles and the sere woodlands, and by
the aptitude of the brisk, bracing weather, for the
endurance ‘of fatigue, and the enjoyment of manful
exercise, as this our favorite November. ;

In this month, the beautiful Ruffed Grouse, that
mountain-loving and man-shunning hermit, steals down
from his wild haunts among the giant rhododendrons,

* A law was passed, during thespring of the present year, in that
respectable and truly conservative State, by which the murder of un-
fledged July Woodcock, by cockney gunners, was prohibited ; and the
close time judiciously prolonged until September. The debate was
remarkable for two things, the original genius with which the Hon.
Member for Westboro’ persisted that Snipe are Woodcock, and Wood-
cock Snipe, all naturalists to the contrary notwithstanding ; and the
pertinent reply to the complaint of a city member, that to abolish July
shooting would rob the city sportsman of his sport—viz., that in that
case it would give it to the farmer. Marry, say we, amen, so be it!

THE AMERICAN QUAIL. 255

and evergreen rock-calmias, to nearer woodskirts, and
cedar-brakes margining the red buckwheat stubbles, to
be found there by the staunch dogs, and brought to bag.
by the quick death-shot, “at morn and dewy eve,” with-
out the toil and torture, often most vain and vapid, of
scaling miles on miles of mountain-ledges, struggling
through thickets of impenetrable verdure among the
close-set stems of hemlock, pine, or juniper, only to hear
the startled rush of an unseen pinion, and to pause,
breathless, panting, and outdone, to curse, while you
gather breath for a renewed effort, the bird which haunts
such covert, and the covert which gives shelter to such
birds.

In this month, if no untimely frost, or envious snow
flurry come, premature, to chase him to the sunny
swamps of Carolina and the rice-fields of Georgia, the
plump, white-fronted, pink-legged autumn Woodcock,
flaps up from the alder-brake with his shrill whistle, and
soars away, away, on a swift and powerful wing above
the russet tree-tops, to be arrested only by the instinctive
eye and rapid finger of the genuine sportsman ; and no
longer as in faint July to be bullied and bungled to
death by every German city pot-hunter, or every potter-
ing rustic school-boy, equipped and primed for murder,
on his Saturday’s half holyday.

In this month, the brown-jacketed American hare,
which our folk wid persist in calling Rabbit—though it
neither lives in warrens, nor burrows habitually under

256 AMERICAN GAME.

ground, and though it breeds not every month in the
year, which are the true distinctive characteristics of the
Rabbit—is in his prime of conditions, the leverets of the
season, plump and well-grown; and the old bucks and
does, recruited after the breeding season, in high health
and strength, and now legitimate food for gunpowder,
legitimate quarry for the chase of the merry beagles.

In this month especially, the Quail, the best-loved and
choicest object of the true sportsman’s ambition; the
bird which alone affords more brilliant and exciting
sport than all the rest beside; the bravest on the wing,
and the best on the board; the swiftest and strongest
flyer of any feathered game ; the most baffling to find,
the most troublesome to follow up, and when followed
up and found, the most difficult to kill in style; the
beautiful American Quail is in his highest force and.
feather ; and in this month, according to the laws of all
the States, even the most rigorous and stringent in pres-
ervation, killable legitimately under statute.

In New York, generally, the close-time for the Quail
ends with October, and he may not be slain until the
first day of November; in New Jersey, ortygicide com-
mences on the 25th of October, in Massachusetts and
Connecticut on some day between the 15th of the past
and the first of the present month; in Pennsylvania,
Delaware and Maryland, where they are something
more forward, as breeding earlier in the season than in
the Eastern States, on the first of October; and in

THE AMERICAN QUAIL. Q57

Canada West, where they are exceedingly abundant, on
the first of September; which is, for many reasons,
entirely too early, as hereafter I shall endeavor to
demonstrate.

In my own opinion, the first of N ovember, and even
the middle of October, are too late for the termination
of the Quail’s close-time, inasmuch as five-sevenths of
the broods in ordinarily forward seasons are full-grown
and strong on the wing, as well as all the crops off the
ground, by the first of October; and although the late,
second, or third broods may be undersized, they are still
well able to take care of themselves in case the parent
birds are killed ; whereas, on account of their immature
size, they are safe from the legitimate shot; and, on
account of their unsaleability in market to the restau-
rant, from the poaching pot-shot also.

I should, therefore, myself, be strongly inclined to
advocate the adoption of one common day, and that day
the first of October, for the close-time of all our upland
game ; the English Snipe alone excepted. Touching the
reasons for postponing the day of Woodcock-shooting, a
notice will be found in our July number, and an extend-
ed discussion in my Field Sports, vol. I. pp. 169 to 200.
Of the Quail, in regard to this point, I have said enough
here, unless this ; that, in my opinion, there is far more
need to protect them from the trap during the wintry
snows, than from the gun in the early autumn; the
latter cannot possibly at any time exterminate the race ;

253 AMERICAN GAME.

the former not only easily may, but actually does all but
annihilate the breed, whenever the snow falls and lies
deep during any weeks of December, during the whole
of which month the pursuit and sale of this charming
little bird is legal.
Could I have my way, the close-time for Quail should
end on the last day of September; and the shooting
season end on the twenty-fourth day of December ;
before which date snow now rarely lies continuously in
New Jersey, Southern New York, or Pennsylvania.
Why I would anticipate the termination of the close-
time, in reference to the Ruffled Grouse, I shall state at
length, when I come to treat of that noble bird, in our
December issue; to which month I have attributed it,
because it is then that it zs, though in my opinion, ¢
ought not to be, most frequently seen on our tables.
While on the topic of preservation, I will mention a fact,
which certainly is not widely, much less generally
known, among farmers; namely, that this merry and
domestic little bird is one of his best friends and assist-
ants in the cultivation of his lands. During nine or ten
months of the year he subsists entirely on the seeds of
many of the most troublesome and noxious weeds and
grasses, which infest the fields, more especially those of
the ragwort, the dock, and the briar. It is believed, I
might almost say ascertained, that he never plucks any
kind of grain, even his own loved buckwheat when ripe,
from the stalk, but only gleans the fallen seeds from the

THE AMERICAN QUAIL. 259

stubbles after harvest, so that while he in nothing dete-
viorates the harvest to be ingathered, he tends in the
highest degree to the preservation of clean and unweeded
fields and farms ; indeed, when‘it is taken into consider-
ation that each individual Quail consumes daily nearly
two gills of weed-seed, it will be at once evident that a
few bevies of these little birds, carefully and assiduously
preserved on a farm, will do more towards keeping it
free of weeds, than the daily annual Jabor of a dozen
farm servants. This preservation will not be counter-
acted or injured by a moderate and judicious use of the
gun in the autumnal months; for the bevies need thin-
ning, especially of the cock-birds, which invariably out-
number the hens, and which, if unable to pair, from a
want of mates, form into little squads or companies of
males, which remain barren, and become the deadly
enemies of the young cocks of the following year, beat-
ing them off and dispersing them; though, strange to
say, they will themselves never mate again, nor do aught
after remaining unpaired during one season, to propagate
their species. The use of the trap, on the contrary,
destroying whole bevies at a swoop, where the gun, even
in the most skillful hands, rarely much more than deci-
mates them, may, in a single winter’s day, if many traps
be set, destroy the whole stocking of a large farm for
years, if not forever. I have myself invariably remark-
ed, since my attention was first called to the fact, that
those farms which are best stocked with Quail, are inva-

~

260 AMERICAN GAME.

riably the cleanest of weeds; and aright good sports-
man, and good friend.of mine, working on the same base
per contra, says that, in driving his shooting-cart and
dogs through a country, he has never found it worth his
while to stop and beat a district full of weedy and dirty
farms, as such never contain Quail.

If this may lead our farmers to consider that every live
Quail does far more good on the farm, than the shilling
earned by -his capture in the omnivorous trap; and
therefore to prohibit their sons and farm-boys from exter-

Ininating them at their utmost need, when food is scarce,
and shelter hard to find, my words will not have been
altogether wasted, nor my object unattained.

Were I a farmer, I would hang it over my kitchen
fire-place, inscribed in goodly capitals—“Spare the
Quail! If you would have clean fields and goodly crops,
spare the Quail! So shall you spare your labor.”

And now, in a few words, we will on to their nomen-
clature, their distinctive marks, their regions of inhabit-
ation, seasons, haunts and habits; and last, not least,
how, when, and where lawfully, honorably, sportsmanly,
and gnostically, you may and shall kill them.

I will not, however, here pause long to discuss the
point, whether they ought to be termed Quail or Par-
tridge. Scientifically and practically they are neither,
but a connecting link between the two subgenera. True
Partridge, nor true Quail, very perdix, nor very coturnia,
exists at all anywhere in America. Our bird, an inter-

THE AMERICAN QUAIL. 261

mediate bird between the two, named by the naturalists
Ortyx, which is the Greek term for true Quail, is peculiar
to America, of which but one species, that before us, is
found in the United States, except on the Pacific coast
and in California, where there are many other beautiful
varieties. Our bird is known everywhere East, and
everywhere Northwest of Pennsylvania, and in Canada,
as the Quail—everywhere South as the Partridge. In
size, plumage, flight, habits, and ery, it more closely
resembles the European Quail; in some structural points,
especially the shape and solidity of the bill, the Euro-
pean Partridge. On the whole, I deem it properly
termed American Quau.; but whether of the two it shall
‘be called, matters little, as no other bird on this conti-
nent can clash with it, so long as we avoid the ridicule
of calling one bird by two different terms, on the oppo-
site sides of one river—the Delaware. The stupid blun-
der of calling the Ruffled Grouse, Pheasant, and Part-
ridge, in the South and East, is a totally different kind
of misnomer; as that bird bears no resemblance, how-
ever distant, to either of the two species, and has a very
good English name of his own, videlicet, “ Ruffed or
Tippeted Grouse,” by which alone he is known to men
of brains or of sportsmanship. With regard to our
Quail, it is different, as he has no distinctive English
name of his own; but is, even by naturalists, indiscrim-
inately known as Quail and Partridge. The former is
certainly the truer appellation, as he approximates more

262 AMERICAN GAME.

closely to that sub-genus. We wish much that this
question could be settled; which we fear, now, that it
never can be, from the want of-any sporting authority,
in the country, to pass judgment. The “Spirit of the
Times,” though still as well supported and as racy as
ever, has, I regret to say, ceased to be an authority, and
has become a mere arena wherein for every scribbler to
discuss and support his own undigested and crude
notions without consideration or examination; and
wherein those who know the least, invariably fancying
themselves to know the most, vituperate with all the
spite of partisan personality, every person who having
learned more by reading, examination of authorities,
and experience than they, ventures to express an opin-
ion differing from their old-time prejudices, and the
established misnomers of provincial or sectional vulgar-—
ism. - 4

But to resume, the American Quail, or “ Partridge of
the South,” is too well known throughout the whole of
America, from the waters of the Kennebec on the East,
and the Great Lakes on the North—beyond which latter
except on the South-western peninsula of Canada West,
lying between Lakes Erie, St. Clair, and Huron, they are
scarcely to be found—is too well known, almost to the
extreme South, to need description. Their beauty, their
familiar ery, their domestic habits during the winter,
when they become halt-civilized, feeding in the barn-
yards, and often roosting under the cattle-sheds with the

THE AMERICAN QUAIL. 263

poultry, render them familiar to all men, women, boys
and fools throughout the regions which they inhabit.
It is stated by ornithologists, that they abound from
Nova Scotia and the northern parts of Canada to Florida
and the Great Osage villages; but this is incorrect, as
they rarely are seen eastward of Massachusetts ; never in
Nova Scotia, or Canada East; and range so far as Texas
and the edges of the great American salt desert. The
adult male bird differs from the hen in having its chaps
and a remarkable gorget on the throat and lower neck,
pure white, bordered with jetty black; which parts in
the young male and the adult female, are bright reddish-
yellow ; the upper parts of both are beautifully dashed
and freckled with chestnut and mahogany-brown, black,
yellow, gray, and pure white; the under parts pure
white, longitudinally dashed with brownish red, and
transversely streaked with black arrow-headed marks.
The colors of the male are all brighter, and more defi-
nite, than in the female.

Everywhere eastward of the Delaware the Quail is
resident, never rambling far from the haunts in which
he is bred. Everywhere to the westward he is in the
later autumn migratory, moving constantly on foot, and
never flying. except when flushed or compelled to cross
streams and water-courses, from the west eastward; the
farther west, the more marked is this peculiarity.

The Quail pairs early in March; begins to lay early
in May, in anest made on the surface of the ground,

.

264 AMERICAN GAME.

usually at the bottom of a tussock or tuft of grass, her
eggs being pure white, and from ten to thirty-two in
number, though about fourteen is probably the average
of the bevies. The period of incubation is about four
weeks, the young birds run the instant they clip the
shell, and fly readily before they have been hatched a
fortnight. So soon as the first brood is well on the wing,
the cock takes charge of it, and the hen proceeds to lay
and hatch a second, the male bird and first brood
remaining in the close vicinity, and the parents, I doubt
‘not, attending the labor of incubation and attending the
young. This I have long suspected ; but I saw so many
proofs of it, in company of my friend and fellow sports-
man, “ Dinks,” while shooting together near Fort Malden,
in Canada West—where we found, in many instances,
two distinct bevies of different sizes with a single pair
of old birds, when shooting early in September of last
year—that we were equally convinced of the truth of
the fact, and of the unfitness of the season.

In October, with the exception of a very few late
broods, they are fit for the gun; and then, while the
stubbles are long, and the weeds and grasses rank, they
lie the best and are the least wild-on the wing. The
early mornings and late afternoons are the fittest times
for finding them, when they are on the run, and feeding
in the edges of wheat and rye stubbles, or buckwheat
patches bordering on woodlands. In the middle of the
day they either lie up in little brakes and bog-meadows,

THE AMERICAN QUAIL. 265

or bask on sandy banks, and craggy hill-sides, when
they are collected into little huddles, and are then diffi-
cult to find. As soon as flushed, they pitch into the
thickest neighboring covert, whether bog-meadow, briar-
patch, cedar-brake, ravine, or rough corn-stubble, they
ean find, their flight being wild, rapid, and impetuous,
but rarely very long, or well sustained. As they
unquestionably possess the mysterious power, whether
voluntary or involuntary, of holding in their scent, fora
short time after alighting, and are difficultly found again
till they have run, I recommend it, as by far the better

, way, to mark them down well, and beat for another
bevy, until you hear them calling to each other; then
lose no time in flushing them again, when they are sure
to disperse, and you to have sport with them.

Myself, I prefer setters for their pursuit, as more dash-
ing, more enduring, and abler to face briars—others
prefer pointers, as steadier on less work, and better able
to fag without water. Either, well broke, are good—ill
broke, or unbroke, worthless. Still give me setters—
Russian or Irish specially! “Quail fly very fast, and
strong, especially in covert, and require the whole charge
to kill them dead and clean. At cross shots, shoot well
ahead ; at rising shots, well above ; and at straight-away
shots, a trifle below your birds; and an oz. } of No.
8 early, and of No. 7, late, will fetch them in good
style. And so good sport to you, kind reader ; for this,
if I err not, is doomed to be a crack Quail season.

12

THE BITTERN. AMERICAN BITTERN.

Ardea Minor sive Lentiginos.

THE INDIAN HEN. THE QUAWK.
THE DUNKADOO.

Tus, though a very common and extremely beautiful
bird, with an exceedingly extensive geographic range,
is the object of a very general and perfectly inexplicable
prejudice and dislike, common, it would seem, to all
classes. The gunner never spares it, although it is per-
fectly inoffensive; and-although the absurd prejudice,
to which I have alluded, causes him to cast it aside,
when killed, as uneatable carrion, its flesh is in
reality very delicate and juicy, and still held in high
repute in Europe; while here one is regarded very much
in the light of a cannibal, as I have myself experienced,’
for venturing to eat it. The farmer and the boatman
stigmatize it by a filthy and indecent name. The cook
turns up her nose at it, and throws it to the cat; for the
dog, wiser than his master, declines it—not as unfit to
eat, but as game, and therefore meat for his masters.

THE BITTERN. AMERICAN BITTERN. Ardea Minor sive Lentiginosa.

THE BITTERN. 267

Now the Bittern would not probably be much ag-
grieved at being voted carrion, provided his imputed
carrion-dom, as Willis would probably designate the
condition, procured him immunity from the gun.

But to be shot first and thrown away afterward,
would seem to be the very excess of that condition
described by the common phrase of adding injury to
insult.

Under this state of mingled persecution and degrada-
tion, it must be the Bittern’s best consolation that, in the
days of old, when the wine of Auxerre, now the com-
mon drink of republican Yankeedom, which annually
consumes of it, or in lieu of it, more than grows of it
annually in all France, was voted by common consent
the drink of kings—he, with his congener and com-
patriot the Heronschaw, was carved by‘knightly hands,
upon the noble deas under the royal canopy, for gentle
dames and peerless damoiselles; nay, was held in such
repute, that it was the wont of prowest chevaliers, when
devoting themselves to feats of emprise most perilous,
to swear “before God, the bittern, and the ladies!” an
honor to which no quadruped, and but two plumy
bipeds, other than himself, the heron and the peacock,
were admitted.

Those were the days, before gunpowder, “ grave of
chivalry,” was taught to Doctor Faustus by the Devil,
who did himself no good by the indoctrination, but
exactly the reverse, since war is thereby rendered less

268 AMERICAN GAME.

bloody, and much more uncruel—the days when no
booming duck-gun keeled him over with certain and
inglorious death, as he flapped up with his broad vans
beating the cool autumnal air, and his long, greenish-
yellow legs pendulous behind him, from out of the dark
sheltering water-flags by the side of the brimful river, or
the dark woodland tarn; but when the cheery yelp of a
cry of feathery-legged spaniels aroused him from his
arundinaceous, which is interpreted by moderns reedy,
lair ; when the triumphant whoop of the jovial falconers
saluted his uprising; and when he was done to death
right chivalrously, with honorable law permitted to him,
as to the royal stag, before the long-winged Norway
falcons, noblest of all the fowls of air, were unhooded
and cast off to give him gallant chase.

If, when struck down from his pride of place by the
crook-beaked blood-hound of the air, his legs were mer-
cilessly broken, and his long bill thrust into the ground,
that the falcon might dispatch him without fear of con-
sequences, and at leisure, it was doubtless a source of
pride to him, as to the tortured Indian at the stake, to
be so tormented, since the amount of the torture was
commensurate with the renown of the tortured ; besides
—for which the Bittern was, of course, truly grateful—
it was his high and extraordinary prerogative to have
his legs broken as aforesaid, and his long bill thrust into
the ground, by the fair hand of the loveliest lady present
—thrice blessed Bittern of the days of old.

THE BITTERN. “269
A very different fate, in sooth, from being riddled
with a charge of double Bs from a rusty flint-lock Queen
Anne’s musket, poised by the horny paws of John
Verity, and then ignobly cast to fester in the sun,
among the up-piled eel-skins, fish-heads, king-crabs, and
the like, with which, in lieu of garden-patch or well-
trained rose-bush, the south-side Long Islander orna-
nents his front-door yard, rejoicing in the effluvia of the
decomposed piscine exweiw, which he regards as
~ considerable hullsome,” beyond Sabzean odors, Syrian
nard, or frankincense from Araby the blest!
Being eaten zs being eaten after all; whether it be by
a New Zealand war-chief, a New York alderman, a
peerless lady, or a muck-worm; and I suppose it feels
much the same, after one is once well dead; but, if I
had my choice, I would most prefer to be eaten by the
damoiselle of high degree, and most dislike to be bat-

tened on by the alderman, as bei:'g more ravenous and

less appreciative than either Zealander or muck-worm.
The Bittern, however, be it said in sober earnest,
although like many other delicious dishes prized by the
wiser ancients, but now fallen into disuse, if not into
disrepute—to wit, the heronschaw, the peacock, the
curlew, and the swan—all first-rate dainties to the wise
—is a viand not easily to be beaten, especially if he be
sagely cooked in a well-baked, rich-crusted pastry, with
a tender and fat rump-steak in the bottom of the dish, a
beet’s kidney scored to make gravy, a handful of cloves,

270 AMERICAN GAME.

salt and black pepper guantam suff., a dozen hard-boiled
eggs, and a pint of scalding-hot port wine poured in just
before you serve up.

What you say is perfectly true, my dear madam,
cooked in that manner an old India rubber shoe és good;
not only would be, but zs. But you’d better believe it,
a Bittern is a great deal better. If you don’t believe
me, try the Bittern, and then if you prefer it, adhere to
the shoe.

- But now to quit his edible qualifications and turn to
his personal appearance, habits of life, and location, and
other characteristics, we will say of him, in the words of
Wilson, that eloquent pioneer in the natural history of
America, that the American Bittern, whom it pleases
the Count de Buffon to designate as Le Butor dela Baye
de Hudson, “is another nocturnal species, common to
all our sea and river marshes, though nowhere nume-
rous. It rests all day. among the reeds and rushes, and,
unless disturbed, flies and feeds only during the night.
In some places it is called the Indian Hen; on the sea-
coast of New Jersey it is known by the name of dunka-
doo, a word probably imitative of its common note.
They are also found in the interior, having myself killed
one at the inlet of the Seneca Lake, in October. It
utters at times, a hollow, guttural note among the reeds,
but has nothing of that loud, booming sound for which
the European Bittern is so remarkable. This circum-
stance, with its great inferiority of size, and difference of

THE DITTERN. 271

marking, sufficiently prove them to be two distinct
species, although hitherto, the present has been classed
as a mere variety of the European Bittern. These birds,
we are informed, visit Severn river at Hudson’s Bay,
about the beginning of June; make their nests in
swamps, laying four cinereous green eggs among the
long grass. The young are said to be, at first, black.

‘“‘ These birds, when disturbed, rise with a hollow kwa,
and are then easily shot down as they fly heavily. Like
other night birds, their sight is most acute during the
evening twilight; but their hearing is, at all times,
exquisite.

“The American Bittern is twenty-seven inches long,
and three feet four inches in extent; from the point of
the bill to the extremity of the toes, it measures three
feet ; the bill is four inches long; the upper mandible
black ; the lower greenish-yellow ; lares and eyelids, yel-
low; irides, bright yellow; upper part of the head, flat, and

_remarkably depressed; the plumage there is of a deep
blackish brown, long behind and on the neck, the general
color of which is a yellowish brown, shaded with darker ;
this long plumage of the neck the bird can throw forward
at will, when irritated, so as to give him a more formi-
dable appearance; throat, whitish, streaked with deep
brown: from the posterior and lower part of the auricu-
lars,a broad patch of deep black passes diagonally across
the neck, a distinguished characteristic of this species ;
the back is deep brown, barred, and mottled with innu-

272 _ AMERICAN GAME.

merable specks and streaks of brownish yellow; quills,
black, with a leaden gloss, and tipped with yellowish
brown; legs and feet, yellow, tinged with pale greea ;
middle claw, pectinated ; belly, light yellowish brown,
streaked with darker; vent, plain; thighs, sprinkled on
the outside with grains of dark brown ; male and female
nearly alike, the latter somewhat less. According to
Bewick, the tail of the European Bittern contains only ten

feathers ; the American species has, invariably, twelve.
The intestines measured five feet six inches in length,

and were very little thicker than a common knitting-
needle ; the stomach is usually filled with fish or frogs.*

“This bird, when fat, is considered by many to be
excellent eating.”

It is on the strength of Mr. Wilson’s statement as
above that I have given among the vulgar appellations
of this beautiful bird that of Dunkadoo ; though I must
admit that I never heard him called a Dunkadoo, either
on the sea-coast of New Jersey or any where else; and
further must put it on record, that if the sea-coasters of
New Jersey did coin the said melodious word. as émita-
tive of tts common note, they proved much worse imita-
tors than I have found them in whistling bay snipe,
hawnking Canada geese, or yelping Brant. They might
just as well have called him a Cockatoo, while they were
about it.

* [ have taken an entire water-rail from the stomach of the European
Bittern.—Ep.

THE BITTERN. 273

The other name, Quawk, by which it is generally
known both on the sea-coast of New Jersey, and every
where else where the vernacular ot America prevails, is
precisely imitative of the harsh clanging ery with which
he rises from the reeds in which he lurks during the day
time, and which he utters while disporting himself in
queer clumsy gyralions in mid air, over the twilight
marshes’ in the dusk of summer evenings; and how near-
ly Quawk approaches to Dunkadoo, that one of my
readers who is the least appreciative of the comparative
value of sweet sounds, can judge as well as I can.

In England the Bittern, who there is possessed of a
voice between the sounds of a bassoon anda kettle-drum,
with which he makes a most extraordinary booming
noise, which can be heard for miles, if not for leagues,
over the midnight marshes, a noise the most melancholy
and unearthly that ever shot superstitious horror into
the bosom of the belated wayfarer, who is unconscious
of its cause, has also been designated by the country
people from his cry, “the bog-bumper,” and the “ blut-
tery bump”—but as our bird—the United Stateser, I
mean, or Alleghanian, as the New York Historical So-
ciety Associates would designate their countrymen—
Bittern never either booms, blutters or bumps, but only
quawks; a quawk only he must be content to remain,
whether with the sea-coasters of New Jersey, the south-
siders of Long Island, or my friends, the Ojibwas of
Laxe Hurédn.

a

Q74 AMERICAN GAME. ~

In another respect I cannot precisely agree with the
acute and observing naturalist quoted above, as to its
ungregarious nature, since on more occasions than one
I have seen these birds together in such numbers, and
under such circumstances of association, as would cer-
tainly justify the application to them of the word flock.

One of these occasions I remember well, as it occurred
while snipe-shooting on the fine marshes about the
rwiere aue Canards in Canada West, when several
times I saw as many as five or six flush together from
out of the high reeds, as ifin coveys; and this was late
in September, so that they could not well have been
young broods still under the parental care.

At another time I saw them in yet greater numbers
and acting together, as it appeared, in a sort of concert.
I was walking, I cannot now recollect why, or to what
end, along the marshes on the bank of the Hackensack
river, between the railroad bridge and that very singular
knoll named Snakehill, which rises abruptly out of the
meadows like an island out of the ocean. It was late in
the summer evening, the sun had gone quite down, and
a thick gray mist covered the broad and gloomy river.
On a sudden, I was almost startled by a loud guawk
close above my head; and, on looking up, observed a
large Bittern wheeling round and round, now soaring
up a hundred feet or more, and then suddenly diving, or
to speak more accurately, falling, plump down, with his
legs and wings all relaxed and abroad, precisely as if he

THE BITTERN. 275

had been shot dead, uttering at the moment of each
dive a loud guawk. While I was still engaged in
watching his manceuvres, he was answered, and a
second Bittern came floating through the darksome air,
and joined his companion. Another and another fol-
lowed, and within ten or twelve minutes, there must
have been from fifteen to twenty of these large birds all
gamboling and disporting themselves together, circling
round one another in their gyratory flight, and making
the night any thing, certainly, but melodious by their
clamors. What was the meaning of those strange noc-
turnal movements I cannot so much as guess ; it was not
carly enough in the spring to be connected in any way
with the amatory propensities of the birds, or I should
have certainly set it down, like the peculiar flight, the
unusual chatter, and the drumming, performed with
the quill-feathers, of the American Snipe—Scolopau
Wilsonti—commonly known as the English snipe, dur-
ing the breeding season, as a preliminary to incubation,
nidification, and the reproduction of the species—in a
word, as a sort of bird courtship. The season of the
year put a stopper on that interpretation, and I can con-
ceive none other than that the Quawks were indulging
themselves in an innocent game of romps, preparatory
to the more serious and solemn enjoyment of a fish and
frog supper. : ;

The Bittern, it appears, on the Severn river, emptying
into Hudson’s Bay, makes its nest in the long grass of

276 AMERICAN GAME,

the marshes, and there lays its eggs and rears its black
downy young; but several years ago, while residing at
Bangor, in Maine, while on a visit to a neighboring
heronry, situated on an island covered with a dense
forest of tall pines and hemlocks, I observed a pair of
Bitterns flying to and fro, from the tree-tops to the river
and back, with fish in their bills, among the herons
which were similarly engaged in the same interesting
occupation of feeding their young. One of these, the
male bird, I shot, for the purpose of settling the fact,
and we afterward harried the nest, and obtained two
full-grown young birds, almost ready to fly.

Hence, I presume, that, like many other varieties of
birds, the Bittern adapts his habits, even of nidification,
to the purposes of the case, and that where no trees are
to be found, in which he can breed, he makes the best he
can of it, and builds on the ground ; butit is my opinion -
that his more usual and preferred situation for his nest is |
in high trees, as is the case with his congeners, the Green
Bittern, the blue heron, the beautiful white egret, the
night heron, which may be all found breeding together
in hundreds among the red cedars on the sea beach of
Cape May. The nest, which I found in Maine, was
built of sticks, precisely similar to that of the herons.

The Bittern is a more nocturnal bird than the heron,
and is never seen, like him, standing motionless as a gray
stone, with his long slender neck recurved, his javelin-

THE BITTERN. 277

like bill poised for the stroke, and his keen eye piercing
the transparent water in search of the passing fry.

All day he rambles about among the tall grass and
reeds of the marshes, sometimes pouncing on an unfor-
tunate frog, a garter-snake, or a mouse, for, like the blue
heron, be is a clever and indefatigable mouser; but
when the evening comes, he bestirs himself, spreads his
broad vans, rises in air, summoning up his comrades by
his hoarse clang, and wings his way over the dim
morasses, to the banks of some neighboring rivulet or
pool, where he watches, erect sentinel, for the passing
fish, shiners, small eels, or any of the lesser tribes of the
cyprinidz, and whom he detects, woe betide; for the
stroke of his sharp-pointed bill, dealt with Parthian
velocity and certitude by the long arrowy neck, is sure
death to the unfortunate. :

Mr. Giraud, in his excellent book on the birds of Long
Island, thus speaks of the American Bittern, and that so
truthfully and agreeably withal, that I make no apology
for quoting his words at length.

“This species is said to have been the favorite bird of
the Indians, and at this day is known to many persons
by the name of “Indian Hen,” or “ Pullet,” though
more familiarly by the appellation of “ Look-up,” so
called from its habit, when standing on the marslies of
elevating its head, which position, though prohably
adopted as a precautionary measure, frequently leads to
its destruction. The gunners seem to have a strong

978 AMERICAN GAME.

prejudice against this unoffending bird, and whenever
opportunity offers, seldom allow it to escape. It does
not move about much by day, though it is not strictly
nocturnal, but is sometimes seen flying low over the
meadow, in pursuit of short-tailed or meadow-mice,
which I have taken whole from its stomach. It also
feeds on fish, frogs, lizards, etc. ; and late in the season,
its flesh is in high esteem—but it cannot be procured in
any number except when the marshes are overflowed by
unusually high tides, when it is hunted much after the
manner the gunners adopt when in pursuit of rail. On
ordinary occasions, it is difficult to flush; the instant
it becomes aware that it has attracted the attention of
the fowler, it lowers its head and runs quickly through
the grass, and when again seen, is usually in a different
direction from that taken by its pursuer, whose move-
ments it closely watches; and when thus pursued,
seldom exposes more than the head, leading the gunner
over the marsh without giving him an opportunity to
accomplish his purpose.

“When wounded, it makes a vigorous resistance,
erects the feathers on the head and neck, extends its
wings, opens its bill, and assumes a fierce expression—
will attack the dog, and even its master, and when
defending itself, directs its acute bill at its assailant’s
eye. It does not usually associate with other herons,
nor does it seem fond of the society of its own species,

THE BITTERN. 979

Singly or in pairs it is distributed over the marshes, but
with us it is not abundant.”

The geographical range of this bird is, as I have
before stated, very extensive, extending from the shores
of Hudson’s Bay, in the extreme north, so far south at
least as to the Cape of Florida, and probably yet farther
down the coasts of the Mexican gulfs.

That fanciful blockhead, the Count de Buffon—for he
was a most almighty blockhead when he set himself
drawing on his imagination for facts—with his usual
eloquent absurdity, describes the species as “ exhibiting
the picture of wretchedness, anxiety and indigence ;
condemned to struggle perpetually with misery and
want; sickened with the restless cravings of a famished
appetite ;” a description so ridiculously untrue, that were
it possible for these birds to comprehend it, it would
excite the risibility of the whole tribe.

If the count had seen the Quawks, as I did, at their
high jinks, by the Hackensack, he would have scarce
written such folly; and had he been a little more of a
true philosopher, and thorough naturalist, he would have
comprehended that whatsoever being the Universal
Creator hath created unto any end—to that end he
adapted him, not in his physical structure only, but in
his instincts, his appetites, his tastes, his pleasures and
his pains; and that to the patient Bittern, motionless on
his mud-bank, that watch is as charming, as is the swift
pursuit of the small bird to the falcon, of the rabbit to

280 AMERICAN GAME.

the fox, of the hare to the greyhound, of all the animals:
devoured to all the devourers; and that his frog diet is
as dear to Ardea Lentiginosa, as his flower dew to the
humming-bird, or his canvas-backs, in the tea-room, to
an alderman of Manhattan.

As for the Bittern starving, eat a fat one in a pie, and
youll be a better judge of that probability, than any
Buffon ever bred in France; and as for all the rest—it
is just French humbug.

At another opportunity, I may speak of others of this
interesting tribe. Sportsmen rarely go out especially to
hunt them, except in boats, as described by Mr. Giraud,
but in snipe and duck-shooting in the marshes they are
constantly flushed and shot.

Pointers and setters will both stand them steadily, and
cocking spaniels chase them with ardor. Their flight is
slow and heavy, and their tardy movements and large
size render them an easy mark even to a novice. They
are not a hardy bird, as to the bearing off shot ; for the
loose texture of their feathers is more than ordinarily
penetrable, and a light charge of No. 8, will usually
bring them down with certainty.

When wing-tipped they fight fiercely, striking with
their long beaks at the eyes of the assailant, whether
dog or man, and laying aside resistance ohly with their
lives.

Early in the autumn is the best time both for shooting
uim and eating him, and for the latter purpose he is

THE BITTERN. 281

better than for the former; but for the noble art of fal-
conry, the mystery of rivers, he is the best of all.
Avium facile princeps ; easily the Topsawyer of the
birds of flight, unless it be his cousin german heronshaw,
whom the princely Dane knew from a hawk, when the
wind was nor-nor-west.

XI.

NOVEMBER.

Che Rutter Grouse.

4etrao Umbellus,

THE PHEASANT; THE PARTRIDGE.

LABRADOR; BRITISH POSSESSIONS; UNITED STATES.

The Hello Perch.

Perea Flavescius.

CONTINENT OF NORTH AMERICA.

Tetrao Umbellus.

THE RUFFED GROUSE

THE RUFFED GROUSE.
Tetrao Umbellus.

Tue beautiful bird which is depicted above, is that
known as the Partridge, in New Jersey, and all the
States east and north of the Delaware, and as the Pheas-
ant everywhere to the westward of that fine stream ; and
by these provincial vulgarisms it is like to be known
and designated, until sportsmen will take the trouble of
acquiring a little knowledge of their.own trade, and will
cease to regard naturalists as mere theorizing bookmen,
and scientific names and distinctions as supererogatory
humbug. The distinction between the Grouse and other
birds of the gallinaceous order, is that the former are
invariably, the latter never, feathered below the knee.
This distinction never fails, and is very easily noted ;
although, in different species of the genus, the extent of
the feathering differs. In the Ruffed Grouse the soft
fleecy feathering of the leg is sparse, and descends only
to the middle of the shank. In the Pinnated Grouse,
Prairie Hen of the West, and Grouse of Pennsylvania,
New Jersey, and Rhode Island, the legs are feathered

286 AMERICAN GAME.

the whole way down the shank, to the insertion of the
‘toes; and the same is the case of the Canada Grouse, or
Spruce Partridge of the remote Eastern States. In all
those species of Grouse, which are known as Ptarmigan,
dwellers of the extreme north, or in the northern tem-
perature of iced mountain-tops, the feathering continues
the whole length of the toes quite to the insertion of the
claws—this I merely mention par parenthese, as there is
but one of the Ptarmigans likely to fall within reach of
the sportsman ; namely, the Willow Grouse, or Red-
Necked Partridge of the extreme parts of Maine, and
the Easternmost British provinces, and thence so far as
to the Arctic Circle.

These distinctions are easily borne in mind, and will
be found all-sufficient to the discriminating woodsman,
who desires to be able ta call things by their right names,
and to give a reason for doing so.

The true Pheasant is a native of Asia originally,
though it has beer naturalized in Europe, since a very
early period, and is now abundant in France and Eng-
land. No species of this bird, which is distinguished by
a pointed tail above half a yard in length, and by its
splendidly gorgeous coloring, little inferior in intensity
to that of the Peacock, has ever been found, or is
believed to exist in any portion of the Western hemis-
phere; although those singular and showy birds, the
Curagoas of South America, have some relation to it.

The same is true of the reat Partridge; although the

THE RUFFED GROUSE. 287

Quail of this continent would seem to be its equivalent ;
being as it were a connecting link between the European
Quail, and the Partridge of Europe.

The Ruffed Grouse ranges over a very wide portion of
the United States and British provinces, from the 5ist
degree of north latitude to the Atlantic sea-board,
although it is much more scarce in the Southern States
than in the midland and northern regions. It is remark-
able also that it varies exceedingly in color ; those to the
northward being comparatively dull and gray, to those
of Pennsylvania, Kentucky, and more genial regions.

The distinctive feature, whence this bird derives his
title of Lugfed Grouse, is the tuft or tippet of jet-black
feathers, glossed with metallic hues, which are shown
more or less distinctly in each of the figures in the
wood-cut at the head of this paper, but the most decided-
ly in the cock-bird, represented as standing on a fallen
log, in the act of drumming, with these ruffs elevated,
and his tail erected and expanded after the manner of a
Turkey or Peacock, in the season of his amorous phan-
tasies. :

This drumming, a sound sufficiently familiar to all
ears accustomed to the sights and noises of the forest, is
no less than the call of the male bird to his harem of
attendant wives; for the Ruffed Grouse, unlike our
pretty, constant, and domestic Quail, selects himself no
one fond partner, whom to cheer with his loved notes, to
comfort and amuse during the breeding season, but

288 AMERICAN GAME.

rejoices like a veritable grand Signor in a multiplicity of
fair sultanas, whom so soon as they betake themselves to
the cares of maternity, he abandons, like a roué as he is,
and passes the remainder of the season, until the broods
disperse in the autumn, in company with small packs of
his own faithless sex, reveling and enjoying himself on
the mountain sides, in his loved pines and hemlocks,
while his forgotten loves brood patient over the hopes of
the coming season.

“This drumming,” says Wilson, in his eloquent and
animated page, “is most common in spring, and is the
cal] of the cock to a favorite female. It is produced in
the following manner: the bird, standing on an old pros-
trate log, generally in a retired situation, lowers his
wings, erects his expanded tail, contracts his throat,
elevates the two tufts of feathers on the neck, and
inflates his whole body something in the manner of a
Turkey cock strutting and wheeling about in great state-
liness. After a few mancouvres of this kind, he begins
to strike his stiffened wings in short and quick strokes,
which become more and more rapid until they run into
each other, resembling the rumbling sound of very
distant thunder dying away gradually on the ear. After
a few minutes’ panse, this is again repeated, and in a
calm day may be heard nearly a mile off. This is most
common in the morning and evening, though I have
heard them drumming at all hours of the day.”

It is singular, that so exact an authority as Wilsou

THE RUFFED GROUSE. 289

has proved himself to be, should fall into the strange
error of speaking of this singular amorous sound as a
call to a single female; and elsewhere of the Pheasant,
as he erroneously calls it, pairing ; when it is notorious
to all who have closely observed the habits of this bird,
that it is polygamous. Such, I believe, will be found
the case with all those gallinaceous birds which have an
especial summons, or peculiar display of attitudes, airs,
and splendors by which to attract the females; as may
be observed of the common Game-cock, the Turkey, the
Peacock, and the European Pheasant ; no one of which
takes to himself an especial and chosen partner, but
disports himself in his wanton seraglio.

On many occasions, during this particular season,
I have stolen up to within a few yards of the log,
whereon the Ruffed Grouse was so busily employed in
summoning his dames and demoiselles around him, that
he had no ears or eyes for my approach, which at any
other period he would have discovered long before, and
whirred away tumultuous on terrified and sounding
pinions. I have lain concealed, for an hour at a time,
watching with intense gratification the beautiful and
animated gestures of the cock, now strutting and drum-
ming on his log, proud as an eastern despot, now
descending to caress and dally with his numerous Roxa-
lanas, and then reascending to his post of pride, to send
his resonant call far through the haunted echoes of the
umbrageous pine-woods. On one such chance, I saw no

13

290 AMERICAN GAME.

less than seven hen birds gathered around a single male,
all in turn expectant of his looked-for attentions, and all
gratified by a share of his notice. If this be not
Polygamy, I should like to receive the Grand Turk’s
opinion on the subject, as I confess myself, if it be any
thing less, in a state of absolute benightedness.

The Ruffed Grouse begins her nest very early in May,
and lays from eight to fifteen brownish-white, unspotted
eggs, nearly the size of those of a pullet. With the
exact period of this bird’s incubation I am not acquaint-
ed; the young birds run the instant they clip the shell ;
obey the cluck of the mother, as chickens that of the
hen ; and are tended by her with extreme care and
solicitude. In case of her being surprised with her
young about her, she resorts to all the artifices practiced
by the Quail, and even by the comparatively dull and
stolid Woodcock, to draw away the intruder from the
vicinity, feigning lameness, and incapacity to fly, until
she shall have lured away the pursuer far from the
hiding-place of her fledglings. Then she shall whirr
away on resonant and powerful pinions, up, up above
the tops of the tall pines and hemlocks, and thence skate
homeward noiseless on balanced wings, where she will
find them close ensconced among the sheltering fern
tufts, or the matted winter-greens and whortleberry
bushes, viewless to the most prying eye, and undiscover-
able, save to the nose of the unerring spaniel. But
once returned, you shall see them emerge, chirping

THE RUFFED GROUSE. 991

feebly at the soft maternal cluck, and hurrying to
enshroud them under the shelter of her guardian wing,
and nestle, happy younglings, among the downy plumage
of her maternal breast. Curses upon the sacrilegious
hand that would interrupt that sweet and tender scene
by the sharp click of the murderous trigger; yét there
be brutes, in the guise of men, who scruple not to
butcher the drumming cock, taken at fatal disadvantage,
amid his admiring harem ; scruple not to slaughter the
brooding mother above her miserable younglings—but
to such we cry avaunt! to such we deny the name of
sportsmen, nay, but of Christians, or of men. Get ye
behind us, murderous pot-hunters !

The young broods grow rapidly ; and by the time they
have reached the size of the Quail, fly well and strongly
on the wing. By the middle, or latter end of August,
they are three parts grown, and fully feathered, with the
exception of the tail, which is.not yet complete, and
retains a pointed form. The blundering legislation of
this country in general, on the subject of the game-laws,
has, in this instance, to my ideas, exceeded itself; for
during the months of September and October, when the
broods are still united under the care of the mother, the
birds lying well to the setter, and when flushed scatter-
ing themselves singly here and there among low under-
growth or bushes, and rarely or never taking to the tree,
we are prohibited from shooting this bold, hardy, ramb- |
ling, and shy bird; this, at a later season, wild hunter

292 AMERICAN : GAME.

of inaccessible rock-ledges, impenetrable rhododendron
brakes, and deep sequestered hemlock-swamps ; this, the
most uncomatable and self-protecting bird of all the vari-
eties of American game; the only variety, perhaps,
which never can by any means, fair or unfair, be exter-
minated ‘from among us, so long as the rock-ribbed
mountains tower toward the skies, and the forests clothe
them with foliage never sere.

At this period they would afford rare sport, as at all
other seasons they afford none; and are, moreover, in far
the best condition for the table, as the old birds are apt
to be dry, unless hung up for several weeks before being
cooked, which can, of course, only be done in winter,
when the coldness of the weather prevents their becom-
ing tainted, without absolutely freezing them.

In my opinion, therefore, this the only bird, of Ameri-
can game, which might well exist apart ftom almost all
protection, is now so protected as to be almost rendered
impossible to the gun of the fair sportsman; while for
others, the tamest, the most easily killed, and the most
rapidly decreasing of all our winged tribes, as the Wood-
cock, for example, the mock protection afforded to them
is but another word for the license to slaughter them
half-fledged and half-grown, while the second brood is
yet in the black-down, and unable to exist without the
parent’s care.- ; ‘

I would myself desire to see the legitimate season for
Ruffed Grouse-shooting made to commence with the first

THE RUFFED GROUSE. 293

day of September, the young birds by that time, and in
truth much earlier, being quite fit for the gun, and to
cease on the fifteenth of December, or at Christmas at
the latest, before the snows of winter admit of their
being snared and trapped by thousands.

Toward the middle of October, the old hens drive off
the broods, or the young birds now perfectly mature,
stray from them of their own accord; and thenceforth
.«y are found sometimes in little companies of two,
three, or four, but far more often singly, in wild, difficult
upland woods, through which they love to ramble
deviously for miles, as they are led in search of their
favorite food, or sometimes, as it would seem, by mere
whim. On one occasion, many years since, when I was
but a young sportsman on this side of the Atlantic, I
remember footing a small party of five birds, in a light
snow, for above ten miles among the Wawayanda moun-
tains, in Orange County, New York, without getting up
to them; although it was easily seen by their hurried
and agitated tracks that for a great part of the distance
they were within hearing of me, and were running from
my pursuit. Ihad no dogs with me. Had I been out
with setters, the Grouse would have trailed them for
miles, and unquestionably risen at last out of shot.
With spaniels, or curs, trained to run in upon them, and
pursue, yelping loudly, as the mode is in the backwoods,
where men do not shoot but gun, they would have taken
to the trees, and would have sat close to the trunk with

294 AMERICAN GAME.

their bodies erect, and their necks elongated, and might
have been killed easily, the only difficulty being that of
perceiving them, a difficulty far more considerable than
would be imagined to-an unpracticed eye. To shoot
birds sitting, however, whether on trees or on the ground,
is not sport for a sportsman; the only case where it is
ever allowable, is to the woodsman on a tramp through
the primitive and boundless forest, where his camp-
kettle must be filled by the contents of his bag, and
where to throw away a chance is, perhaps, in the end to
go supperless to bed. In such a case, while canoeing it
last Autumn “ with a goodly companye” up the northern
rivers that debouch into lake Huron, we shot many,
while portaging around cataracts or rapids on the
Severn ; and on one occasion a gentleman of the party
shot three birds, out of one small pine tree, without any
of them moving or appearing alarmed at the gun-shots.
This has often been related as a constant and ordinary
habit of the bird; and from that occurrence, I am
induced to believe that when the bird is in its natural
solitudes, unacquainted with man and his murderous
weapons, such may be the case; in the settlements,
however it might have been when they were rare and
sparse, this is the habit of the Ruffed Grouse no longer.
I have never in my life, save in the instance mentioned,
observed anything of the kind; on the contrary, I have
ever found them the wildest, the most wary, and unless,

THE RUFFED GROUSE. 295

by some mere chance, the least approachable of all wild
birds.

During the latter autumn, they eschew flat, bushy
tracts, and even swamps with heavy thickets, their
instinct probably telling them that in such covert they
are liable to be taken napping. If, however, one have
the fortune to find them in such tracts, he is likely to
have sport over setters; and in no other sort of ground
do I deem that possible, as the law now stands. Once,
many years since, sporting in the heavy thorn-brakes
around Pine Brook, in New Jersey, I found them with a
friend in low underwood, and we had great sport, bag-
ging eight brace of Ruffed Grouse over points, in addi-
tion to some eighteen or twenty brace of Quail.

In general, however, they frequent either open groves
of tall, thrifty timber, with a carpet of wintergreens,
cranberries and whortleberries, which constitute their
favorite food; or the steep mountain-ledges, under the
interlaced ‘branches of tall evergreen trees, among brakes
of mountain rhododendron, or, as it is commonly called,
though erroneously, laurel. In both these species of
ground, all being clear below, the birds can hear and see
the sportsman long before he can approach them, and
take wing, for the most part, entirely out of gun-shot
range. If, however, they are surprised unawares, they
have a singular tact of dodging behind the first bush,
or massive trunk, and flying off in a right line, keep-
ing the obstacle directly between the sportsman and

296 AMERICAN GAME,

‘themselves, so as to-frustrate all his efforts to obtain a
shot; this I have seen done so often as to satisfy me
that it is the result, not of chance, but of a deliberate
instinct.

The Ruffed Grouse rises, at first, when surprised, with
a heavy whirring and laborious flutter, and if taken at
that moment within range, is easily shot; he rises for
the most part a little higher than the head of a tall man,
and goes away swift and strong nearly in a horizontal
line. If struck behind, he will carry away a heavy load
of shot, and he has a trick of flying until his breath
leaves him in the air, and then falls dead before he
strikes the ground. Occasionally he towers up with the
wind, and then setting his wings, skates down before it
at a prodigious rate, without moving a feather; and, if
you get a shot at him, gentle reader, under such circum-
stances, crossing you at long range, be sure that you
shoot two, or, by ’r lady, three feet ahead of him, or you
may cut off his extreme tail-feathers, but of a surety kill
him you shall not.

The Ruffed Grouse usually flies in a perfectly right
line, so that if you flush one without getting a shot, and
can preserve his line exactly, you may find him, if he
have not treed, which it is ten to one he has; wherefore
T advise you not to follow him. The exception to this
right line of flight, is when the ground'is broken into
ridges with parallel ravines, in which case the bird, on
crossing a ridge at right angles, will rarely cross the

THE RUFFED GROUSE. 297

ravine also, but will dive up or down, as the covert may
invite. ;

When birds lie in narrow ravines, filled with good
covert, by throwing the guns forward on the brow of the
ridges a hundred yards ahead of the dogs, which must
be left behind with a person to hunt and restrain them,
and letting the sportsmen carefully keep that distance in
advance, going very gingerly and silently, sport may be
had; and so I think only—especially over slow, mute,
cocking spaniels, for as the birds, after running before
the dogs, will be likely to take wing abreast of, or per-
haps even behind the unexpected shooter, who has thus
stolen a march on them, and as they rarely, if ever, cross
the ridges, but fly straight along the gorge, they so
afford fair shots.

For my own part, I do not consider it worth the while,
as the law now stands, to go out in pursuit of Ruffed
Grouse with dogs, where you expect to find no other
species of game; for, in the first place, they ramble so
widely, that there is no certainty of finding them within
ten miles of the spot where you may have seen them
daily for a month ; and, secondly, if you do find them,
there is no certainty of having sport with them, but
rather a probability of reverse. As an adjunct to other
kinds of shooting they are excellent, but as sole objects
of pursuit, I think, worthless. I have often blundered
on them by chance while hunting for other game; but

298 AMERICAN GAME.

when I have gone out expressly in~pursuit of them, I
have never had even tolerable sport.

If the law were altered, and September shooting per-
mitted, the case would be altered also; and in many
regions of our country, as the Kaatskill Mountains, and
some parts of Columbia and Saratoga counties, in New
York ; the Pocono Mountains, and the Blue Ridge, gen-
erally, in Pennsylvania; and many districts of Maine,
Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island, rare sport
might be had. For September shooting, No. 8 shot will
be found sufficient ; but after that, No. 7; and very late
in the season, Eley’s wire cartridges will be found the
most effective.

This widely extended bird is too well know to require
any peculiar description; and I shall content myself
with observing, in aid of my portraiture of the Ruffed
Grouse, that the upper part of its head and hind neck
are reddish-brown, the back rich chestnut, mottled with
heart-shaped spots of white, edged with black. The tail
is bright reddish-yellow, barred and speckled with
black, and bordered by a broad, black belt between two
narrow white bands, one at the extremity of the tail.
The iris of the eye hazel, bill brown, feet brownish gray.
Loral band cream color. Throat and fore-neck, brown-
ish-yellow. Upper rufffeathers barred with brown,
Wings brownish-red, streaked with black7 Breast and
abdomen cream colored, closely barred above, and late-
rally spotted below, with dark chocolate. Length 18

THE RUFFED GROUSE. 299

inches, spread of wings 2 feet. The Rufted Grouse is a
capital bird on the table. The breast white meat, back
and thighs brown. It should be roasted quickly, eaten
with bread sauce and fried crumbs, and washed: down
with sherry or red wine.

‘THE PERCH.

Tux Yellow Perch ; Perca flavescens. .

This fine fish, which belongs to the family Percoida,
of the division Acanthopterygiz, or thorny-finned, is the
common perch of the waters of the United States;
ranging from the extreme east‘to the extreme west of
the continent; from the streams and pools of Nova
Scotia and New Brunswick, to the feeders of Lake Supe-
rior and the northern tributaries of the Canadian lakes.

To the northward, it is not found in the rivers flowing
into the Arctic Ocean or Hudson’s Bay, and its southern
limit is ill-defined, and can scarcely be ascertained, ex-
cept by personal inspection; since the denizens of the
southern waters have been disfigured by appellations,
local, provincial, and most unscientifical, so barbarous
as to defy the most intelligent inquirer.

The title of the division Acanthopterygii, or thorny-
Jinned, is founded on the principle that every genus and
sub-genus thereof has one or more of the fins supported

“HOUdd AHL

THE PERCH. 301

on, or preceded by, strong, sharp spines, capable of
inflicting a severe wound, and forming a very efficient
weapon of defense, so that the boldest and most vora-
cious of fishes rarely venture to seize them. All the
genera have two dorsal fins—the first, or foremost, of
which is invariably supported on spines, as opposed to
soft branched rays ; while the second, or hindmost, is of
soft texture, preceded by one or more hard spines—two
pectoral fins, both soft-rayed—one ventral, and one anal,
each of which is often preceded by one or more spines
—and one caudal; or tail fin, which is the main propell-
ing power of the animal. On the number of the hard
spines supplementary to the soft fins, are founded the
different families; and on the number of spines in the
first dorsal, the dental system, and some other parts of
the bony structure, the lesser, or individual distinctions.
On color, as distinctive of genera, or even varieties,
little or no reliance can be placed, unless confirmed by
distinct variations in the bony formation; since in all
fishes there is observed to exist a great range of hues,
shades, and even positive colors, arising sometimes from
mere casual influences operating on individual speci-
mens, sometimes from accidents of light or shade affcct-
ing peculiar situations, and most frequently of all fiom
the soil and character of the feeding-grounds, and from
the various mineral or earthy substances held in solution
by the waters they frequent.

These latter influences frequently modify the same

3802 AMERICAN GAME.

fish in different streams, even of the same region and
neighborhood, and flowing over soils apparently identi-
cal, to such an extent, that the casual observer not
unnaturally believes them to be distinct varieties, if not
species, and can be with difficulty convinced, on the im-
mutable evidences of structural sameness.

This fact has led, in a great measure, to the compli-
cating and confounding the science of Natural History,
by the undue multiplication of names, species, and
genera, where no specific differences exist; rendering
the science infinitely difficult to the beginner, and
causing the unlearned to undervalue the lore of the na-
turalist, and to deny the reality of all scientific distinc-
tions whatsoever.

On differences of structure, such as the situation and
texture of the fins, the number of spines or soft rays in
each, the form of the gill covers, the character and
position of the teeth, perfect reliance may be placed, as
indicating unchangeable specific characteristics, by ob-
servation of which the educated naturalist will name at
a glance the species, genus and sub-genus of any fish,
unseen before ; and will unerringly determine his habits,
his food, and in some degree his habitation.

Thus of the Percord family we distinguish the sub-
genera Perca, perch proper, from Gristes and Centrar-
chus, to which are referred the types black basse of the
lakes, and the little rock basse of the St. Lawrence
basin, by the fact that the Perce have one spine to the

THE PERCH. 303

ventrals and two to the anal. The Gristes one to the
ventrals and three to the anal. The Centrarchi one to
_ the ventrals and six to the anal.

And in like manner, by the number of spines support-
ing the first dorsal, we are enabled to pronounce on the
“truth or untruthfulness of the many subdivisions of the
perch family, as predicated by the fishermen of various
regions, and insisted on by credulons naturalists, such as
Dr. Smith, of Massachusetts, whose book is rendered
absolutely valueless by the readiness which he displays
in adopting every local legend concerning new varieties,
and classifying new species ; until, if we believe him at
all, we must believe that every several stream vnd pool
from Maine to Minnesota has its own distinct variety of
perch ; nor of perch only, but of trout, and, more or less,
of every finny tenant of the waters.

The truth appears to have been at length firmly es-
tablished, and to be this—that there is but one clearly
defined and distinct perch, perca flavescens, the yellow
perch, found in the United States—that the perca flu-
viatelis, common river perch of Europe, does not exist
at all in American waters, though it is so closely con-
nected with our fish that a casual observer would pro-
nounce them identical—that the supposed subgenera of
perca granulata, or rough-headed perch, perca argentea,
silver perch, perca acuta, or. sharp-nosed perch, and perca
gracilis, said to be peculiar to the small lakes of Ska-
neateles, in the interior of New York, are not sufficient-

804 AMERICAN GAME.

ly made out as permanent varieties; and that the
variations of color from dark, green and greenish
brown, to bright yellow, silvery, and something nearly
approaching to orange, are merely local, casual, and
individual differences, and not general, permanent,
specific distinctions.

The following luminous description of this game and
excellent fish is borrowed from Dr. Richardson’s Tawra-
boreali-Americana, or natural history of the Northern
Regions of America, including parts of the United
States, and the British Provinces as far north as to the
Arctic Ocean. The specimen from which it was com-
piled was caught at Penetanguishine, on the great
Georgian bay of Lake Huron, but will answer for fish of
this genus taken in any part of America which they
may chance to frequent; so small is their variation in
any respect but that of*color, which appears to vary in
obedience to no fixed law of locality or latitude, except
that it appears to me that of the fishes taken in estuaries
and at the mouths of tidal rivers, the color is deeper and
the tints fade from cerulean black along the dorsal out-
line to olive green on the flanks, with a silver belly;
while in clear lakes.and fresh streams, they change from
olive-green on the back to bright golden yellow on the.
sides and belly.

THE YELLOW PERCH.

Color.—General tint of the back greenish-yellow; of

the sides golden-yellow with minute black specs; and

THE PERCH. 305

of the belly whitish. Nine or ten dark bands descend
from the back to the sides, and taper away toward the
belly ; the alternate ones are shorter, and on the tail and
shoulders they are less distinctly defined; the longest
band is opposite to the posterior part of the first dorsal
fin, on which there is a large black mark.

Form.—The body is moderately compressed, its great-
est thickness being somewhat more than one half of its
depth. Its profile is oblong, tapering more toward the
tail, which is nearly cylindrical: its greatest depth is at
the ventrals, and rather exceeds one-fourth of the total
length, caudal included.

The head constitutes two-sevenths of the total length,
and its height,‘at the eye, is equal to one-half its length
from the tip of the snout to the point of the gill-cover.
The forehead is flat, but appears depressed, owing to the
convexity of the nape. The snout is a little convex.
The orbits are lateral, distant more than one of their own
diameters from the tip of the snout, and more than two
diameters from the point of the gill-cover. The jaws are
equal. The mouth descends as it runs backward, its
posterior angle being under the centre of the orbit.

Teeth.—The intermaxiliaries, lowerjaw, knob of the
vomer, and edge of the palate-bones, are covered with
very small, straight or slightly-curved, densely-crowded
teeth (en velours.) The vault of the palate, posterior
part of the vomer, and the pointed tongue, are smooth.

Gill-covers.—The preoperculum is narrow; its upper

306 AMERICAN GAME.

limb rising vertically forms a right-angle with the lower
one; and its edge is armed with small spinous teeth,
those on the lower limb being directed forward. The
bony operculum terminates in a narrow sub-spinous
point, beneath which there are three denticulations, with
grooves running backward from them. An acute-
pointed membranous flap prolonged from the margin of
the suboperculum conceals these parts iu the recent fish.
The edge of the interoperculum and posterior part of the
suboperculum are minutely denticulated. The edges of
the humeral bones are slightly grooved and denticulated,
the denticulations being more obvious in some individu-
als than in others.

Scales.—There are sixty scales on the lateral line, and
twenty-two in a vertical row between the first dorsal and
centre of the belly. The scales are rather small, their
bases truncated and furrowed to near the middle (striées
en éventail) by six grooves corresponding to eight minute
lobes of the margin. A narrow border of the outer
rounded edge is very minutely streaked, producing teeth
on the margin, visible under a lens. The length and
breadth of a scale, taken from the side, are about equal,
being two and a half lines. A linear inch measured on
the sides or belly, longitudinally, contains twelve scales,
the scales on the belly having, however, less vertical
breadth. On the back an inch includes seventeen or
eighteen. The asperity of the scales is perceptible to

the finger, when it is drawn over them from the tail
19* .

THE PERCH. 3807

toward the head. The lateral-line is thrice as near to
the back as fo the belly, and is slightly arched till it
passes the dorsal and anal fins, when it runs straight
through the middle of the tail. It is marked on each
scale by a tubular elevation, which is divided irregularly
by an oblique depression.

Fins.—Br. 7—7; D. 18—1 | 138; P. 14; V.1|5; A.
2|8; 0.17 5-5.*

The first dorsal commences a little posterior to the
point of the gill-cover and to the pectorals: its fourth
and fifth rays are the highest: the first ray is slender
and not half the height of the second; the last ray is so
short as to be detected only by a close examination.
The second dorsal commences a quarter of an inch from
the first, the space between them being occupied by two
or three initer-spinous bones without rays: its first ray is
spinous, and is closely applied to the base of the second,
which is thrice as long, distinctly articulated, and
divided at the tip; the remaining rays are all divided at
their summits, but at their bases the articulations are
obsolete.. The pectorals originate opposite to the spinous .
point of the operculum ; they are somewhat longer than
the ventrals, which are attached opposite to the second
spine of the first dorsal. The anal is rounded: its first

* Br. represents the rays within the gill-covers, which form the
breathing apparatus of the animal—D. the dorsals—P, pectorals—V.
ventrals—A. anal—C.caudal. The notations 1 | 13, 2 | 5, and 2 | 8,
r-spectively indicate one hard spine, thirteen soft rays, etc. ete.

808 AMERICAN GAME.

ray is one-fourth part shorter than the second, both being
spinous: the succeeding rays are articulated and branch-
ed, the five anterior ones being longer than the second
spine, the others becoming successively shorter: its
termination is opposite to that of the second dorsal.
The caudal is distinctly forked, its base is scaly, the
scales advancing farther on the outer mays and covering
one-third of their length.

Such is the general description of the fish diionaiteat
the country at large, but great allowance must be made
for accidental and local variations of color, some speci-
mens being light green, backed and barred with black,
with silvery bellies, others exactly as portrayed above,
others nearly orange, and approaching in some degree to
the splendor of the gold-fish.

As I have observed, no fish is more general than this,

in every description of waters throughout his range in
the United States. Jrom the largest rivers, so‘low down
their channels that,the waters begin to be brackish, to
the smallest mountain rivulets; from the mill-pond, and
small, clear mountain tarn, to the vast expanses of
Huron, Michigan and Superior, they are omnipresent
and numerous.

They spawn in March, each female exuding a vast
quantity of spawn. So many as 992,000 ova having
been taken, as it is stated by Mr. Brown in his “ Ameri-
can Angler’s Guide,” though he does not annex his
authority, from a single female.

THE PERCH. 309

They may be taken during every month of the year
with the hook, being bold biters and among the most
voracious of all fishes, devouring the spawn and young
fry of their own species with savage avidity, and being
among the most deadly foes to the trout preserves, owing
to the rapacity with which they ransack the spawning
beds.

They are in the main a lively and active fish, roving
about in small bands or shoals, sometimes swimming
high and near the surface, leaping merrily at the flies
and smaller water insects, and sometimes, especially in
clear, rapid scours of grayel-bedded rivers, sweeping
along the bottom, gathering the small, red brandling
worms, of which they are very fond, caddises, and other
water reptiles, as well the spawn of such fish as use
these localities. :

The larger fish will, however, often select stations,
-such as the lee of a large stone at the tail of a ripple,
especially under the umbrage of trees growing on the
bank, or among the piles and timbers of mill-dams or
sluice-ways, whence they sally out like the pike or trout
on any passing prey with great velocity and accuracy of
aim. Still even these are decidedly gregarious, as one is
never found singly in a hole, such places being invaria-
bly frequented by such a band as it will liberally sup-
port, who rarely stray beyond its limits, and prey, for the
most part over the same fishing-ground, and in the same
course.

310 AMERICAN GAME.

This propensity is taken advantage of by the angler,
since, when he has once struck upon a well-stocked
haunt, while the fish are in the humor to bite, he will be
very apt, if patient and skillful, to take the whole shoal
without the loss of a single fish.

The growth of the yellow perch is slow, and appears
to be proportioned pretty accurately to the size and
character of the waters which he frequents. In small,
swift-running brooks, or little spring-ponds or mill-dams,
he rarely exceeds a few inches in length and a few
ounces in weight, partaking generally of the green and
silvery type of the fish. In estuaries and large rivers, in
the pellucid tarns and lakelets, which are dotted so
beautifully through all the uplands ‘of the eastern and
middle states from Maine to Pennsylvania, in the vast
expanses of the great northern lakes of Canada, in the
giant rivers of the west, they attain far more rapidly to
a great size, three or four pounds being a run by no
‘means unusual, and individuals being not unfrequently
taken up to five, six and seven pounds, when they are
very firm, fat, and in capital condition for the table.

They may be caught in all months of the year. Mr.
Brown considers that they “may be had in the
largest quantities and in the finest condition from May
to July ;” but from my own experience, which has been
limited principally to the lakelets of Maine, to Green-
wood or Wawayanda lake, in Orange county, New York,
to Lake Hopatkong, desecrated into Brooklyn pond, in

THE PERCH. 311

Sussex county, New Jersey, and to some of the north
eastern streams and ponds of Pennsylvania, I should say
that late in the autumn—

When the maple boughs are crimson,
And the hickory shines like gold,
And the noons are sultry hot,
And the nights are frosty cold;

They bite with greater freedom, show more sport, and
are better on the table than at any other season of the
year.

The yellow perch isa bold, nay! a savage biter, and
a gréedy feeder ; it is even recorded of him that he has
been known to strike at his own eye, casually torn out
by the point of the hook, which is to me by no means
incredible.

Securely weaponed by the sharp palisade of arrowy
spines bristling along his back, and by the stout jagged
thorns protruding in advance of his ventral anal fins,
when of any considerable size, he fears neither the
tremendous rush and shark-like jaws of the savage mas-
calonge, nor the terrible agility and dauntless daring of
the namaycush and siskawity, those vast lake trouts, but
feeds himself, a lesser tyrant of the waters, on whatever
crosses his path of havoc.

A light, stiff, ten-foot rod, with a small reel, and
twenty-five or thirty yards of line, with a small cork
float, and a proper sinker for bottom fishing, is the best

312 AMERICAN GAME.

implement; and the best baits for this method are the
common ground-worm or the little scarlet brandling.
The latter. particularly in rapid channels and scours.
Cheese pastes are also used, and at times successfully,
but Ido not advocate their use, but the most certainly
deadly of all baits is the paste made from the preserved
roe of any fish which frequents the waters you are to
fish. Trout-roe, in lakes or rivers haunted by that
gamest and best of all the inhabitants of the water, kills
unerringly. ,

In brackish water shrimp beats the world for perch,
remembering that you fish near to or upon the bottom.

Perch, especially when of large size, may be trolled
for as pike, with the hind legs of a frog, or with any
small fish on a gorge hook. But in my opinion the
prettiest of all modes of catching them is to rove for
them with the live minnow.

For this purpose you take a fine, clear, gut leader,
with a No. 9 Limerick hook whipped on at the tail, and
an inch and a half above it, and back to back to the tail
hook, a second one size smaller than the first. The
upper should be hooked securely into the lower jaw of a
moderate sized minnow, and the lower into his dorsal fin,
care being taken not to pierce his back, when he will
swim about naturally and gayly for many hours, if not
taken by a fish, and if carefully released without lacera-
tion, will survive the operation. A small cork, or what
is better, quill-float, is necessary to this method, and a

THE PERCH. 313

few shot, sufficient to sink the bait to within three
inches of the bottom. When a bite is felt, a little time
should be given before striking: when struck, the perch
is surely taken, for though he pulls hard for a short time
he has neither the fierce courage nor the wily craft of
the trout, but succumbs after a few brief struggles. A
reel is necessary, and the float often dispensed with by
veterans in the art.

The following very graphic extracts, on perch fishing
in the waters of the Niagara river and Lake Erie, are
from the pen of probably the best piscatorial writer of
the United States, long an esteemed correspondent of the
Buffalo’ Commercial Advertiser, from whose lucubrations
Ihave borrowed largely in my larger works on “ Fish
and Fishing,” and to whom I gladly record my obliga-
tion:

“ The Yellow Perch. This beautiful and active fish
is almost omnipresent in the fresh waters of the North-
ern States. There are probably two distinct but similar
species in our country, blended together under this com-
mon name. The perch of New England differs from
ours principally in the shape of the head. In the Sara-
toga Lake, Owasco Lake, Cayuga Outlet, the Flats of
Lake Huron, and many other localities, the perch is
larger than with us, frequently weighing three pounds.
Among the perch of our streams and rivers, a half-pound-
er is a very portly citizen—though on a few particular

bars they are sometimes taken in considerable numbers,
14

314 AMERICAN GAME,

averaging nearly a pound each. It is almost always to
be had, from earliest spring to the commencement of
winter; and when poor Piscator has had all his lobsters*
taken by the sheeps-head, and utterly despairs of bass,
he can, at any time, and almost any where, in our river,
bait with the minnow and the worm, and retrieve some-
what from frowning fortune, by catching a, mess of
perch.

“Tn the spring, as soon as the ice has left the streams,
the perch: begins running up our creeks to spawn. He
is then caught in them in great plenty. About the
middle of May, however, he seems to prefer the
Niagara’s clear current, and almost entirely deserts the
Tonawanda, and other amber waters. You then find
him in the eddies, on the edge of swift ripples, and often
in the swift waters, watching for the minnow. As the
-water-weeds increase in height, he ensconces himself
among them, and, in mid-summer, comes out to seek his
prey only in the morning and toward night. He seems
to delight especially in a grassy bottom, and when the
black frost has cut down the tall water-weeds, and the
more delicate herbage that never attains the surface is
withered, he disappears until spring—probably secluding
himself in the depths of the river.

“The back fin of the perch is large, and armed with
strong spines. He is bold and ravenous. He will not
give way to the pike or to the black bass; and though

* By lobsters the writer means the small fresh-water crayfish.

THE PERCH. 815

he may sometimes be eaten by them, his comrades will
retaliate upon the young of his destroyers.

“The proper bait for the perch is the minnow. He
will take that at all seasons. In mid-summer, however,
he prefers the worm, at which he generally bites freely.
He is often taken with the grub, or with small pieces of
fish of any kind.

‘He is a capital fish at all times for the table. His
flesh is hard and savory. He should be fried with salt
pork rather than butter, and thoroughly done. He
makes good chowder, though inferior for that purpose to
the black bass or the yellow pike.

“ A difference of opinion exists among our most tasteful
icthyophagists, as to whether this fish should be scaled
or skinned. Let me tell you how to skin him. Take a
sharp pointed knife, and rip up the skin along the back,
from the posterior extremity of the back fin, on one or
both sides of it, along its whole length—then take the
fish firmly by the head with the left hand, and with the
right take hold of the skin of the back near the head,
first on one side and then on the other, and peal it down
over the tail. This being done, all the fins are thereby
removed except those of the back and belly, which are
easily drawn out by a gentle pulling towards the head.
Cut off the head, and you have a skinless, finless lump
of pure white flesh. Some say this is the only way a
perch should be prepared for the cook’s art—others say
it impairs the flavor, and should never be pursued. As

316 AMERICAN GAME.

for me, I say, ‘in medio tutissimus ibis, —neither of the
disputants is infallible. Much, very much of the sweet-
ness of the perch, and, indeed, almost all fishes, resides
in the skin, which should never be parted with except
for some special reason ; therefore, as a general thing, I
scale my perch. But, in summer, the skin of the perch
is apt to acquire a slightly bitter taste; or a smack of the
mud—therefore, in summer, I skin my perch.”

Before quitting this subject, I will simply point out
that the excellent little pan fish taken in salt water, near
the turn of the tide, in most of our large rivers, and
usually known as white perch, or silver perch, is not a
perch, but the little white, or the little red bass. And
herewith, good-night; and good luck to the gentle
friends and good fishermen all who read Graham.

XL,
DECEMBER.
Ghe Canbas-Back Duck.
BPuliguis Bemaculuta,

MASSACHUSETTS SOUTH TO THE CHESAPEAKE; WEST TO
m ‘THE MISSISSIPPI.

Ghe Clinter Duck,
st Puligula Biscaculata.

ARCTIC REGIONS TO THE ST, LAWRENCE AND LAKE
MICLIGAN.

‘oeousyod DINFYNT “MONG MOVE-SSVANVO SILL

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK.
Fuligula Valisneria.

Or a truth this is the royalty of Ducks. No other
water-fowl to him is equal, or second, or in anywise com-
parable; and the unhappy man who pictures to him-
self, in the vain imaginings of his own heart, ‘that he is
a gourmet, that he is blessed with a refined, delicate,
discriminating palate; that he is capable of criticism,
nay, of accumulated judgment, upon edibles, not having
tasted yet a Gunpowder River Canvas-Back, reeking
from the spit, with no condiment, save a modicum of
salt and a stick of his bird’s kindred plant, the celery,
may go back to his rudiments; for when he shall once
have been blessed with fruition of that rare mouthful, he
will be compelled, how reluctant soever, to admit that
all his boasted knowledge is but the knowledge of his
own woful ignorance.

And while we are speaking of our king of water-fowl,

820 AMERICAN GAME.

as seen and felt upon the board, not yet in his grander
and nobler capacity and character, as game in the free
air, or on the liberal waters, let us observe that the cook
who sends this glorious fowl red-raw up to the table, to
be cut up butcherly and bedeviled in a chafing-dish,
with wine and jelly, and I know not what, is worthy of
arepe and the nearest lamp-post—death without benefit
of clergy. The man who would so condescend to eat
him, his juicy, melting, natural richness disguised by
cloying artificial sweetness, deserves incontinently to be
elected a New York alderman, and doomed to batten,
life-long, at the corporation ¢ea-table; nor can we con-
ceive a doom more hideous or intolerable to be endured
by any rational, much more refined or thinking man,
than such a condemnation; whether we regard the
quality of.the gross feeders and fowl-livers with whom
he would have to consort, or the nature of the ill-cooked
ill-assorted, rank and racy viands which he would be
compelled to absorb.

No! let the kitchen be the kitchen, and its work be
done within its own confines. Let the duck, roasted to
a turn, redolent of a rapid fire, and brownly, nay, but
almost blackly crisp without, be served up on its lordly
dish, without one gout of sauce or gravy to dim the
splendor of the sheeny porcelain. A vase of celery
may accompany him, and, if you will, a salver of halved
lemons, but no more. Let him be placed before the
right man of the company, one competent to

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 321

Carve him as a dish for gods,
Not hew him as a carcass for the hounds.”

Then, if he be indeed the very man, it is a pleasure in
itself to observe: him. Mark how dantily between his
thumb and forefinger only he poises the elaborate and
burnished steel ; how dexterously and without effort he
slides it through the rich scarlet muscle, glowing like a
ripe pomegranate when its skin is severed, through car-
tilage and joint unerring—

“ And as he draws his trenchant steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cesar follows it,”

till the broad dish, of late so bright and stainless, is filled
even to o’erflowing with the rare, crimson gravy, and
the whole atmosphere of the dining room is perfumed
with the noble fwmet.

And, now to descend from no inappropriate raptures
to the world of common sense and the terrestrial limits
of Duckdom, be it known, that all this delicacy of flavor,
all this rare juciness and melting pingwidity, are attrib-
utable solely to the nicety and gentlemanly habits of
your Chesapeake Canvas-Back, in that he feeds, revers-
ing the modus operands of my friends, the knights of the
tea-table, wisely, but not too well. Your Canvas-Back
of the Chesapeake Bay, but more especially of the Gun-
powder river, is the nobleman of that ancient dominion ;

whereas, all other Canvas-Backs, even of the James, the
14*

822 AMERICAN GAME.

Potomac, and the Patapsco, shall be at once distinguish-
ed as mere parvenues and merchant princes; as- those
from the Hudson, the Sound, or the great South Bay,
rank as the mere snobs and vulgarians—the very out-
casts of Duckdom.

The wonderful difference which exists between these
fowl, when shot on the waters of the Chesapeake and
elsewhere, arises solely from the difference of their food.
The Canvas-Back ranges across many degrees of this
continent, from the Falls of St. Peter’s on the Upper
Mississippi, whence I possess a pair of fine stuffed speci-
mens, sent to me by my friend Mr. Sibley, now M. C.
for Minnesota, corresponding in every particular with
the same birds from the southern estuaries, so far north
as the Long Island Sound, and the great lagoons between
its southern side and the outer beaches on which I have
frequently killed it. But nowhere is it a superior duck,
except on the waters and tributaries of the Chesapeake,
where its favorite food, the wild celery, as it is incorrect-
ly called, Zostera Valisneria, or Valisneria Americana,
grows in the greatest abundance, and imparts to it that
peculiar richness and delicacy, which it bestows on none
of its congeners, though all these, too, it wonderfully
improves, particularly the Widgeon, or Baldpate, Anas
Americana, regarded as second to it longo imtervallo,
and the Red-Headed Duck, or Pochard, Fuligula ferina,
which may be regarded as its cousin german. While
speaking of the birds in this relation I may mention that

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 323

the Red-Head, though immeasurably inferior to the
Canvas-Back, where both can feed on the valisneria, is
as far superior to it when shot on sea-ways where both
are compelled to feed on other species of sea-grass and
weeds. Indeed, I consider the Duskey Duck, commonly
known as the Black-Duck, a better bird on the Aoethers
Atlantic sea-board than this fowl.

The valisneria of which it is so fond, and to which it
owes so much of its excellence, grows only on fresh
shoals, in water from seven to nine feet, which are never
left bare at the lowest tides. It is a long grass-like
plant, with narrow leaves of five or six feet in length or
upward, and is said to grow so thickly that a boat can
scarcely be pulled through it; the root is white, and
somewhat resembles celery, whence its common name,
and on this only do the ducks feed, the Canvas-Back and
Scaup-Duck, Puligula Marila—the Black-Head of the
Chesapeake, and Broad-Bill of Long Island—for these
three are one—being reported to dive for it, and uproot
it, while the less vigorous and active Red-Head and
Widgeon rob the rightful possessors of it when they rise
to the surface after their long dive.

_ The Red-Head closely resembles the Canvas-Back, and
is often palmed off on the unwary as that bird, yet to an
experienced eye the distinction is broadly apparent. In
the first place the Canvas-Back is very considerably the
larger bird, measuring two feet in length by three feet
from wing to wing, and weighing, when in condition,

824 AMERICAN GAME.

full three pounds. The upper parts of the Canvas-Backs
are much lighter, and the colors generally clearer and
brighter than in the Red-Head, which I consider identi-
cal with the European Pochard. It isin the heads of
the two birds, however, that the difference will be most
readily perceived, the bill of the Canvas-Back being
above three inches long, purely.black, and very high at
the base; whereas that of the Red-Head is bluish,
except at the tip, where it is black, and rarely exceeds
two and a quarter inches, besides being much flatter
where it joins the head. Perhaps the best distinction,
however, is in.the eye, for that mark is positive, whereas
all the others are merely comparative; the ¢ddces, or
circles around the pupil being, in the Canvas-Back,
deep, fiery red; whereas in the other bird they are of a
lurid reddish-yellow or chestnut.

I have been somewhat particular in insisting on these
differences, as I find that there prevails much uncertainty
regarding them, and as the pointing out these with
precision may protect some fair readers, if any deign to
cast their eyes over this paper, as well as gentle sports-
men, from deception and disappointment.

The Canvas-Back drake, in full plumage, is a magnifi-
cently handsome fowl, and his speed and power of sus-
tained flight, as well as extraordinary agility and
persistence in diving are in all respects commensurate
with his beauty.

The crown of his head, the space between the bill and

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 325

the eye, and the throat, are dusky; the sides of the
head, neck all round and the greater part of its length,
rich, ruddy chestnut ; the lower neck, breast, and back,
deep, sooty black, the rest of the back white, closely
undulated with narrow black lines; the wing-coverts
gray, speckled. with black; primaries and secondaries
light slate color; rump tail-coverts and tail, blackish;
lower breast and abdomen, white; flanks white, finely
undulated with gray; under tail-coverts, grayish-black.

The female is inferior in size to the male, and general-
ly of a dingy, grayish-brown, except the abdomen,
which is white, penciled with blackish lines.

This bird is unknown except on this continent, never
being found in Europe ; and of its habits, except during
the winter months, which it spends in our sea-bays and
estuaries, little or nothing has been ascertained, so that
of all its most interesting peculiarities in nidification,
incubation, and the rearing of its young, we are almost
wholly ignorant.

That it breeds in the extreme north we are, of course,
assured, and that it is not averse toa more than mode-
rate degree of cold, since it stays with us even after the
ice has made, when it can feed only through air-holes,
and is never found far south of the capes of the Chesa-
peake. It does not, moreover, become very abundant
even on those its favorite waters, until the cold weather
has fairly set in, about the middle of November, and a
month later it is considered to be in its prime. It is,

3826 AMERICAN GAME.

however, very remarkable, that I cannot discover that
the Canvas-Back is ever seen or known to visit the great
Upper Lakes, where the Read-Head is also rare, though
Widgeon and Scaup abound, and though the northern
tributaries of Lake Huron, as well as the flats of the
Lake St. Clair are overgrown with all the various plants
in which they most delight, both the Valisneria Ameri-
cana, and the zizania panicula effusa, known as wild
rice, flourishing in wonderful profusion, and imparting
their peculiar qualities of flavor, tenderness, and juci-
ness to all the tribes of water-fowl, even the least worthy,
which haunt these deep, ice-cold, translucent waters.
The only solution I can offer for this seeming anomely,
for all the other ducks pause to recruit awhile in those
favorable feeding-grounds while on their southward
course, is that the Canvas-Back and Red-Head do not
- move en masse from the northern sea-shores, until those
great inland waters are girdled around their margins,
and winter-bound along their tributary streams by fetters
of thick-ribbed ice, and that the fowl in consequence
pass over without pausing or becoming known, to their
great detriment, to the red or white inhabitants of the
coast. Certain it is, that they are unknown to the
Indian tribes who dwell on the shores or islands of Lake
Huron, and that the officers of the English posts who
have known them elsewhere, ignore them here.

To compensate, however, for our ignorance concerning
their summer habits, haunts, and proceedings, we are

1

TUE CANVAS-BACK DUOK. 827

well aware of their winter doings and sufferings, for, in
truth, from the day of their arrival on the waters of the
Chesapeake to that of their departure in the spring, they
have small rest by day or by night, in spite of the exer-
tions of the shooting-clubs to prevent their disturbance
by sailing-boats and punts with swivels on the feeding-
grounds.

One of their habits is so curious that it merits peculiar
attention, though it is shared by these birds with several
other varieties, the Scaups, or Black-Heads, and the
Read-Heads especially, and sometimes, though rarely, by
the Widgeon or Bald-Pates; this habit is a strange
hallucination, or curiosity, which induces them to swim
directly in from their feeding-grounds, under the very
muzzle of the concealed gunner’s weapon on the occur-
rence of any rare or unusual sight, such as an animal at
play on the beach, or the waving of a red handkerchief
by day, and a white by night. Advantage is taken of
this singular propensity to lure them to their doom ; and
Iam assured by a good sportsman that he has known
the same flock ¢oled, as it is called, into easy gun-shot
and decimated each time, thrice successively within
half an hour.

The mode of doing this is thus related by Dr. Sharp-
less, of Philadelphia, who contributed the account to
Mr. Audubon, for his “Birds of America,” from whom,
with due acknowledgment, I borrow it, never having

828 AMERICAN GAME.

myself enjoyed the pleasure of observing this singular
mode of sporting.

For this purpose, says the doctor, “a spot is usually
selected where the birds have not been much disturbed,
and where they feed at from three to four hundred yards
from, and can approach to within forty or fifty yards of
the shore, as they never will come nearer than they can
swim freely. The higher the tides and the calmer the
day, the better, for they feed closer to the shores and see
more distinctly. Most persons on these waters have a
race of small white or liver-colored dogs”—other writers
say red, and resembling the fox—* which they familiarly
call the zoler breed, but which appear to be the ordinary
poodle. These dogs are extremely playful, and are
taught to run up and down the shore, in sight of the
ducks, either by the motion of the hand, or by throwing
chips from side to side. They soon become perfectly
acquainted with their business, and as they discover the
ducks approaching them, make their jumps less high, till
they almost crawl upon the ground to prevent the birds
discovering what the object of their curiosity may be.
The nearest ducks soon notice this strange appearance,
raise their heads, gaze intently for a moment, and then
push for the shore, followed by the rest. On many occa-
sions I have seen thousands of them swimming in a solid
mass direct for the object; and by removing the dogs
farther into the grass, they have been brought to within
fifteen feet of the bank. When they have approached

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 329

to within thirty or forty yards their curiosity is generally
satisfied, and after swimming up and down for a few
seconds, they retrograde to their former station. The
moment to shoot is while they present theif sides, and
forty or fifty ducks have often been killed by a sinall
gun.”

It is said that the tendency to overshoot large, solid
flocks is so great that the oldest and best shots reconi-
mend that the nearest duck be brought into full relief
above the sight, when your shot will rake the mass. To
prevent the ¢oling dogs from breaking, other dogs,
crossed between the Newfoundland and water-spaniel,
are used, which display even more sagacity than the
tolers, crouching when the ducks come in, and springing
up eagerly at the discharge, in order to mark its effect.
During a flight of fowl, these retrievers are said inces-
santly to watch the quarter of the heavens whence the
fowl are flying, and to indicate their approach by rest-
lessness of manner long before the human eye can detect
them. c

This toling is not, however, regarded by good and
great duck-shots as a very legitimate or sportsmanlike
method, and though the sagacity of the dogs, and the
gradual approach of the ducks in a way so curious must’
give an interest and excitement to the business, it must
be confessed that blazing away into solid, stationary
masses of thousands cannot be compared to shooting on
the wing.

330 AMERICAN GAME.

The true and gnostic mode of shooting, however, is
from the points or islands, over which the ducks and
geese fly in going up or down the bay, according as the
wind may be, and on which blinds or screens are con-
structed, concealing a seat on which the sportsman
quietly and comfortably awaits the advent of the fowl,
the teams of which may be seen at a long distance, so
that their approach, and the doubt to whose stand they
will give the shot, renders the sport most exciting.
Retrievers of the same character with those described
above, are used in this flight-shooting; and the use of,
two heavy fourteen or sixteen pounds single guns, carry-
ing 4 or 5 oz. of No. 1 to B shot, as I have recommend-
ed in my Field Sports for fowl shooting in general, is
greatly preferred to that of one double gun, heavier in
fact, but as regards each barrel, lighter, and, therefore,
neither so safe nor effective as the two singles in succes- .
sion, and by far less easily managed.

The most celebrated of these stations is Carrol’s
Island, long rented by a club of sporting gentlemen, and
famous for the astonishing sport it was wont to furnish,
year after year. The Narrows, also, between Spesutia
Island on the western shore, Taylor’s Island at the mouth
of the Rumley, and Abbey Island at the mouth of the |
Bush River, Legoe’s Point on the last named stream,
and Robbins’ and Ricketts’ Points, near the Gunpowder,
are all favorite and famous stations.

The sport is greatly enhaneed by the difficulty of the

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 3831

shooting; and it is said that even the best of upland
shots, or fowl shots, accustomed only to stooling, fail of
success at first in this flight-shooting, from the difficulty
of calculating the distance of the teams, and the rapidity
of their motion. ~

And now, gentle readers, for our time, our topic, and
our space, are all three exhausted, if you be bound in
this, the best month, for the fair Chesapeake, steady be
your hands, and sure your eyes; use Brough’s Hawkers’
ducking powder, and Starkey’s central fire caps, so shall
your guns not fail you. May the winds blow, the tides
flow, and the flights fly as you would have them. And
so farewell to ye; and oh! that we were bound thither
likewise, to beat you or be beaten, as it might be.

THE WINTER DUCK.

Tae Lax Huron Scorzmr.
Fuligula bimaculata? Canard @hiver.

This curious and interesting duck is not described in
any book of natural history, relating to the birds of the
United States of North America; nor, so far as I can
ascertain, is it mentioned or named in any general or
local work of ornithology, unless it may possibly occur
in Richardson’s Fauna borealt Americana, which I have
not had an opportunity of consulting.

It certainly is not to be found either in Audubon or
Bonaparte, much less in Wilson; nor could the: latter
be expected to have known it, since in his day the
regions which it frequents were scarcely discovered, and
at the best visited only by rude frontiersmen and voya-
geurs, or coureurs des bois, who are not expected to take
much note of generic or specific distinctions among the
varieties of game, which is regarded by them as little
more than food.

It is quite certain, however, that this fine duck is now
at least fully entitled to a place in the Fawna of the

svynavung yuan = “AALOOS NOWAM AMWT ALLL

“ssaty.p pavung

“wMONnd UALNIM FHL

&

THE WINTER DUCK. 353

United States, as it has its habitat, during a considerable
portion of the year, on waters within their frontiers, and
is well-known in the north western regions by the name
prefixed to this paper, “ Winter-Duck,” or among the
Canadian French as the Canard @ hiver, being the
synonym of the term above used. By the Ojibwa
Indians, of Nottawasaga Bay, and the Matchedash, it is
known as the “Big Widgeon”—a most inappropriate
name, as, beside that it bears no earthly resemblance
to the proper widgeon, it entirely differs from that bird
in seasons and habits—the Widgeon or Bald-Pate being
a summer resident in the north-west and migrating to
the sea-coast southward during the cold, winter months.
This bird, on the contrary, comes down, as it would
appear, late in the fall, from the extreme north, and
winters on the great unfrozen lakes, its southern limit of
migration not varying much, so far as I can judge, from
the forty-fifth degree of north latitude.

My first sight of this bird was during a visit to the
northern shores of Lake Huron and the great Georgian
Bay, in company with Lieut. F. ©. Herbert, command-
ing H. M. steam sloop, “ Mohawk,” then stationed at
Penetanguishine. Immediately on entering that beau-
tiful little harbor on a bright morning early in Septem-
ber, before the steamer was at her moorings, a Potawat-
tomie Indian, who could speak no English, came along-
side in his bark canoe, with some wild-fowl for sale,
which were bought, and handed on deck for inspection.

3834 AMERICAN GAME.

At first sight, I was satisfied that the bird in question,
one of which Was included in the lot, among scaup, or
broad-bills, as they are commonly designated on the
Atlantic seaboard, mallards, dusky-duck and wood-duck,
was a nondescript; and I laid it aside to sketch and
describe at my leisure. I soon perceived, however, that
it had been much mutilated, all the secondaries having
been plucked out, and the upper tail-coverts torn away, in
order to get at the kernal, from which the birds preen
themselves, and which the Indians of that region inva-
riably cut away, and appropriate, for what purpose I
could not learn. .

In the meantime, I could learn nothing of the bird
among the settlers in the neighborhood, most of them
pensioners from the English army, except that it was
not uncommon in the fall, in the great bay to the north-
ward of the Manitoulins. The staff-surgeon at the post,
himself a good naturalist, was ignorant of the bird,
and we carefully examined our specimen by such au-
thorities as were contained in his library, Audubon and
Wilson, as well as some small English compendiums on
the subject among the number, arriving at the conclu-
sion that it certainly was not described in any of theso
works.

Nearly a month afterward, being one of a sporting
party, which made a canoeing excursion of a week or
ten days, up the Matchedash or Severn river, which dis-
charges the waters of Lake Sincoe, lying midway of the

THE WINTER DUCK. 38385

peninsula between lakes Huron and Ontario, into the
great Georgian bay, I again came across this unknown
wild-fowl.

There had been four or five nights of very sharp frost,
and ice had formed to the thickness of a dollar, even in
the river, which is swift, and in places much broken by
falls and rapids. We had cleared the river, and had
entered the northern extremity of the lake, Simcoe,
paddling as fast as we could toward the village of
Orillia, with two canoes running on nearly parallel
lines, perhaps a hundred yards apart, when we suddenly
saw several large plumps of duck coming from the north.
There were, I should think, thirty or forty fowl in each
plump, and long before they were nearly within gun-
shot, I observed that their flight was in itself peculiar,
“ and unlike that of any fowl I had ever observed; for
they wheeled and swooped frequently, more after the
fashion of plovers, tattlers, or other shore-birds, than of
any species of duck with which I was previously ac-
quainted ; and these movements were the more conspic-
uous, on account of the broad white bars across their
wings, formed by the secondaries, which were alternate-
ly seen and lost at every motion.

At length, one of the smallest flocks wheeled in be-
tween the two boats, and got the contents of three
double-barrels, beside the charges of two or more ‘tong
north-west Indian pieces. A good many birds were
knocked over, quite dead; and a good many more

336 . AMERICAN GAME.

scattered away, and dropped, more or less severely hurt,
over the clear waters of the bright, sunny lake; while
the main body, or what was left of it, settled down and
was marked by the Indians, on our course toward
Orillia. Some considerable time was occupied in taking
the cripples; which were all dispersed, and which swam
away rapidly as the canoes approached them, none of
them making any attempt at rising again on the wing,
seldom diving except when very hard pressed, and then
only for a little time and short distance.

When the wounded were all fairly brought to bag, the
Indians were in great glee, and asserted that they could
paddle us upon them all; which I should have been
inclined to doubt, had I not learned how very rarely an
Indian hazards an assertion of which he is not perfectly
well assured, especially to a white man; for the duck lay
full-in bright water, in the middle of the lake, which
was as clear and smooth asa piece of glass, with a bright
sun shining; and our canoes were large and full of men;
nor was there a particle of wild-rice or sedge whereby to
cover our approaches.

Nevertheless, An-oon-ge-zhig, or the “Starry-Sky,”
for so was our principal conductor styled, made his
prophesy good ; for he did paddle us directly on the birds,
and we slaughtered them, as they sat on the water with-
out offering to fly at our approach, until we had bagged
the greater part of the whole plump. .

On the following day, having attained the limit of our

THE WINTER DUCK. 3837

“intended excursion, we put our heads to the north-west-

ward, and bent our way homeward, the cold weather
suddenly giving way on the noon of the second day ;
after which we enjoyed the most delicious Indian-sum-
mer weather I have ever witnessed.

During the whole of our run down the Matchedash,
and through the innumerable rice-lakes into which it
expands, we had great sport with these same birds,
which we killed in very considerable numbers, while
daily we could observe them coming in by great flights
from the north; though, on our way up, only three or
four days previously, we had not seen a single bird of
the kind, though we had shot many scaups, mallard, and
dusky-duck ; and not a few buffel-heads, called by the
Indians spirit-ducks, from the rapidity with which they
vanish from the eye when diving at the flash.

"The first thing which struck me on examining the
specimen shown to me on board the “ Mohawk,” was
the peculiar formation of the head and Dill, and the
position of the wings and legs; all indicating it to be of
the class fuligule, or sea-ducks, and of that coarse, and
for the most part uneatable, species, generally known
along our sea-board as ‘“ Coots”—although ‘the true coot
is an entirely different species, haunting fresh-water
pools, and belonging to the order of grailatores, distin-
guished from the ducks by having only semipalmated in
lieu of webbed feet.

The known birds of this genus of fuligule, or sea-

888 AMERICAN GAME.

ducks, as established by the authorities, and belonging
to the United States, are sixteen in number, all of which
are entirely familiar to me. Of these, seven have the
bill peculiarly formed, or I might say deformed, with
curious protuberances at its base, and the feathered
forehead running far down the dorsal, or upper, outline
of the bill, almost to the nostril.

These seven are the Eider-duck, the Ring-duck, the
Harlequin-duck, the Pied-duck, the Velvet-duck, the
Surf-duck, and the American Scoter; of these, the three
last, to all of which this bird bears a very considerable
resemblance, are known as “ coots” on the sea-shore,
and are distinguishable by what may be called the scoter
bill, high, and more or less carunculated at the base,
and often variegated with several bright colors.

It is remarkable, that of this genus of Puligule, eight
are of the most, two of these the very most, delicious of
all water-fowl on the table; I need not specify the
“ Canvas-back,” and the “Red-head,” as their names
will occur spontaneously to every sportsman, every gour-
met in the land—while the other eight, including
the Long-tailed duck, Old-wife, or South-southerly, are
fishy, rank, oily; an uneatable abomination. On the
strength of the similarity of the Winter-duck of Lake
Huron, to the Scoter family-of the sea-ducks, I at once
prophesied that it would prove, like its congeners, uneat-
able. My surprise may be imagined when it turned out
—not by the camp-fire, where, with the Spartan sauce,

THE WINTER DUCK. 3839

all meat is appetizing—but at the comfortable dinner-
table, with all appliances and means to boot, at Penetan-
guishine, whither we conveyed our booty, one of the
most delicious duck I ever tasted, and not unworthy to
be named alongside of the royal Canvas-back himself.
It was not, in the least degree, fishy or sedgy ; but rich,
succulent, delicate, and melting in the mouth, like the
flesh of the fattest duck that ever fed in the Gunpowder
or the Potomac—the cause of which undoubtedly is
this, that in both localities, the food of the fowl is the
same, the seeds of the wild-rice, ztzania panicula effusd,
the wild-celery, valisneria Americana, and the eel-grass,
xostera marina ; all which, or varieties of them, are
universally found in all the flats and mud-lakes of that
region.

On our return to convenient quarters, I immediately
set myself to work to dissect a sufticient number of these
fine fowl to satisfy myself as to the distinctions of the
sexes as to plumage and coloring; to take careful meas-
urements, and draw up accurate descriptions; besides
making a close and correct drawing of the bird from
nature. From all that I have since been enabled to
collect, I am well satisfied that this ¢s a new and unde-
scribed sea-duck from the arctic regions. I have never-
found any one, though I have consulted many sportsmen
and naturalists, who is acquainted with the bird south-
east of the straits of Mackinaw. At Detroit it is
unknown, as also on the Canada shores, and that to

840 AMERICAN GAME.

persons in the continual habit of shooting fowl on the
great rice-flats of Algonac on Lake St. Clair, on the
Chatham marshes at the mouth of the Thames river on
the same lake, and on the pime-swamps of the Aus
Canards, near Amherstberg, an affluent of the Detroit
river—all of which localities are literally alive with
wild-fowl at the proper season.

I have since heard from an officer in H. M. Royal
Canadian Rifles of two of those birds being killed near
Prescott, on the St. Lawrence; but they were utterly
unknown to the inhabitants there; and he wrote to me
to make inquiries as to their species and name. During
the present summer I learned also, from my friend Mr.
Dotty, M. C. for Wisconsin, that during the whole winter
they are exceedingly abundant, wherever open water is
to be found, on Lake Winnebago and the rivers of that
region, coming late in the autumn and disappearing in
the spring.

Every thing, therefore, confirms me in my first idea,
that this is an as yet nondescript duck, nondescript cer-
tainly as a fowl of the United States, whose summer
haunts are far up in the arctic seas, and the winter limits
of whose migrations do not extend below 44° 30'_N.
latitude. In this view, I have taken the liberty of sug-
gesting, should it prove to be hitherto undescribed and
unnamed, the propriety of designating it the “Lake
Huron Scoter,” from its locality, and its Fesemblance to
that class of ducks, and, in Latin, “ Fuligula bimacu-

THE WINTER DUCK. 841

lata,” from the two white spots which are its most distin-
guishing characteristics. ,

The wood-cut at the head of this article is mathemat-
ically reduced from my own original sketch, and it may
be described as follows :

Speeijic Characie:.—Head elongated, elevated toward
the corone ; forehead protruding, feathered one-third
the length of the bill; bill much elevated along the
dorsal outline, decurved and flattened toward the tip 7 a
broad unguis on both mandibles; nostril oval, pervious,
one-third nearer the tip than the base; both mandibles
deeply lamellated along the gap. Neck short, stout.
Body broad, thick, and much depressed; wings short,
and placed far back; legs stout, situate very far, back,
scutellate in front, reticullate behind ; tail short, acutely
ovate; two centre feathers longest.

Plumage.—Thick, soft, densely compressed, much
blended, and having an under-stratum of soft, blackish
down.

Colors.—Bill, bluish black, without any other tint;
irides hazel ; legs, in the adult males, dusky crimson, in
the females dull orange; claws black; webs black and
grained like morocco leather ; crown of the head, nape
shoulders, back, upper tail coverts, and tail, sooty black ;
chin, cheeks, forepart of neck, and upper breast, sleek,
satiny mouse color. A triangular white spot at the base
of the upper mandible, extending to the anterior angle
of the eye; a Jarger, irregular, oblong white spot below

842 AMERICAN GAME.

and behind the posterior angle of the eye. Forepart of
breast, belly, and vent dull, silvery gray; flanks and
under tail coverts darkish, glossy, mouse colored. Seap-
ularies, wing-coverts and tertials, dull brownish black ;
secondaries broadly-banded with white, forming the
speculum; primaries jet black, under-wing coverts
silvery mouse colored.

Measurements.—Head 5 inches, tip of bill to nape;
bill 2 4-10; length, to tip of tail, 24 inches; to tip of
claws 253; length of tarsus 1 7-10; length of middle
toe 2 6-10; length of wing 93; length of middle tail
feathers 2 1-5; extent 27 inches.

The male bird weighs from 24 to 3 pounds; and differs
from the female only in weight, size, greater distinctness
of colors, and hue of the legs. e

This duck, for its size, weight and power on the wing,
when in full flight, is-very easily stopped with moderate
sized shot; and is almost equal on the table as I have
observed above, to the canvas-back. With decoys,
immense sport might be had off these birds in the rice-
lakes which they frequent; and with or without them, I
would desire no better fun, than to be, under this clear
moon beneath which I pen these lines, in a fleet birch-
bark canoe, with my old friends An-oon-ge-zhig, and the
“Young Owl,” to paddle me upon the fowl among the
solitary rice-lakes of the lovely Matchedash. My life on
it, if we should sleep on hemlock tips with a camp-fire

THE WINTER DUCK. 343

at our feet, and no covering above us, but our blankets‘
and the bonny lady moon, we should not fall asleep
without both play and supper! Zelenimicoon ! to those
who understand it!

FINS.

HEADLEY’S
WAPOLROWT AD HIS MARSHALS,

t ILLUSTRATED WITH

OVER SIXTY FINE ENGRAVINGS.

CHARLES SCRIBNER

DAS JUST PUBLISHED

A New and Illustrated Edition of NAPOLEON AND
HIS MARSUALS. By J. T. [eaptey.

8vo. Over sixty Illustrations. Price, $3.00.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Napoleon as General,
im at Craonne.
Bonaparte presenting to the Directory
the Treaty of Caumpo-Formio.
Capitulation of UIm.
The Mob at the Tuillorics,
Napoleon reprimanding the: Division
of Vaudois.
Napoleon as Emperer,
Arrest of the Duke D'Enghien,
Return from Elba.
Departure from Fontainbleau.
Death of Napoleon,
Passage of the Bridge of Arcola.
. Marshal Davoust.
Napoleon at Krasnoe,
Death of Moreau.
Marshal Lannes.
Vis Soldiers proclaim him “Corporal.”
Battle of Aboukir.
Charge of Cuirassiers at Eylau,
Insurrection at Madrid.
Marshal Massena.
“ Victor.
Tassage of the Beresiaa
Death of Duroc.
Battle of Lutzen,
Marshal Bessieres.
Passage to the Tagliamento.

Napoleon Dissolving the Council of
Five Hundred.

Passage of the Great St. Bernard.

Battle of Murenze.

Siege of Saragossa.

Death of Marshal Lannes,

It is a King of Rome,

Interior of the Invalides.

The Funeral Car.

The Exhumation.

Marshal Mac!onald.

Battle of Wagram.

Napoleon Visiting the Rutns of
Dierstein.

The Durning of Moscow.

Combat of Fere Champenoise,

Marshal Soult.

Battle of Austerlitz.

Marshal Murat.

Tassage to the Niemen.

Marshal Suchet.

Death of Poniatowski

The Forty-Third Demi-Brigade at
the Battle of Tohenlinden, ~

Napoleon at Montereai,

Marshal Ney.

Battle of Jena,

Napoleon Retreating from Moscow.

Lord Wellington.

1 vol.

IX, MARVEL’S WORKS.

TUIRTEENTH EDITION OF

REVERIES OF A BACHELOR, a Book of the Heart, By Ix. Marver. 1 vob
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The Ilustrated Edition, with Twenty-five Dlustrations, will be ready about the middle
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“Quotations give but a faint idea of the depth of fooling, the beautiful and winning
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terize this remarable volume, Its quaint ingenuity of arrangement is wholly lost in
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would be hard to name its equal, it must be read as a consummate, artistic, gem-like
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their sequel—that will start the memory, with a quick throb, in many hearts. And thero
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The writer who can lure a few of his fellow mortals away from the bustle, and
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back from the distant hills of its own experience our own cries—now of joy, now of grief
and our songs of quiet happiness."—W. Y. Courier and Inquirer,

‘

THE FALL OF POLAND.”

Containing an Analytical and a Philosophical Account of the Causes which Conspired in
the Ruin of that Nation; together with a history of the country from its origin. By»
L.C.Saxton, 2 vols. 12 mo., pp. 563, 621.

The entire work is no hasty utterance of crnde opinions, for the author has evidently
fitted himself for the task he has undertaken, by a study of history generally, and particu-
larly by a careful collation of all those writers that bear upon the subject.

In order to be more complete, the various topics are arranged under different heads, as
Religion, Government, Great Men, Civilization, Society, &c., thus enabling the student to
refer directly to the subject which he may desire to see, and fitting it, with its appropriate
index, to make a valuable work for the library Newark Daily Advertiser.

He has gone into his subject with thoroughness and a scrupul regard to in
detail, having been many years in gathering his materials, and giving them symmetry and
form.—Lvening Transcript.

The work abounds with thrilling incidents and vivid, not to say gorgeous descriptions,
as well as in valuable historic detail—Albany Argus.

It is the product of great thought and research, and presents a complete and accurate
view of the History, Government, Laws, Religion, Popular Character, Literature, and in
short everything connected with Poland that can have an interest for the seholar or the
statesman, The author writes with great vigor and clearness, and his work is constructed
throughout upon the best principles of historical science. It is a solid, symmetrical, and
glowing incorporation of all the great points of interest of one of the most interesting
nations of modern times; and deserves to be placed among the enduring ornaments of
American literature.—Courier and Engyirer.

These volumes embody a full and continuous history of Poland from the earliest ages of
its existence, in which are included the several dynasties under which it has been gov-
erned, with reference to every subject which throws light on the principles of its govern-
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history of ‘Poland which was accessible ; has placed his materials under a clear arrange-
ment, and has subjected the whole to a careful analysis. There is no other book extant,
in which so much has been compressed on the subject of Poland, and which may more
safely be referred to as an authority.—Philadelphia Presbyterian,

A map and engravings add interest and value to a history which Mr. Saxton has pre-
pared with great labor and care. We know not where else to look for so much in the sams
compass, relating to a nation whose tragic career has drawn to it the attention and sym-
pathy of the civilized world. The construction of the work is in many respects a model
for books of this class, giving, as it does, an answer to the inquiries that are naturally sug-
gested to the mind of the inquisitive reader, who will not rise from the perusal of so com-
plete a survey of Poland and its history, without feeling himself informed at almost every
point to which his inquiries may he directed.— Watchman and Reflector.

The author's style is terse and vigorous; his conclusions enforced by arguments based
upon well established facts and sound philosophy ; and the work, as a whole, we consider a
valuable accession to modern historical contributions. It is worthy the patient study of
the student of history, and emiuently deserving a place in every private as well as public
library.—Zroy Daily Whig.

It is a book which the statesman mag read with profit, while it is also well calculated to
interest the general reader. Especially would we commend it to the perusal of the student,
who will find many things “both new and old” within its lids —Freeman's Journal,

This work recommends itself to public notice by its clear and concise history of a coun

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