Thursday, September 13, 2012
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, February 10, 1877
Van Amburgh could handle his lions and tigers with impunity. No animal will fail to respond to kindness and uniform good treatment. And especially will the noble horse respect and faithfully serve a master who deals gently and kindly with him. We have ourselves taken a spirited Morgan mare which had been rudely handled and become entirely unmanageable through harsh treatment, and, by appealing to her intelligence and respecting her needs, in three weeks time made her entirely safe and reliable for wife and children, and all who treat her kindly and handle her gently, and we have, after five years, seen the same mare resume her old vicious habits when again under the control of one who resorted to arbitrary or brutal treatment. Always appeal to the better instincts of the horse, the mule, the ox, the cow, as well as the dog and other domestic animals, and they will never become vicious or unmanageable.-Semi-Tropical.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Published in the Waukegan DailySun, Waukegan, Illinois on Friday, March 31, 1922
Muskrats force themselves occasionally upon one’s attention in India by their habit of entering a bungalow and ambling slowly round the rooms, talking loudly to themselves all the time in a chattering voice.
Although ratlike, the muskrat is not really a rat, but a large shrew, protected by an extreme degree of offensive odor like sickeningly strong musk, which it emits at will.
If not interfered with it will soliloquize round the room, picking up insects attracted by the light, and wander out again; but let anyone assault it, and the room will scarcely be habitable for a time. Dog or cat only attacks a muskrat once in its life, and the mongoose moves out of its way.
That is the meaning of the continuous noise which it makes as it goes along-a sort of alarm bell to let all concerned know that something is coming which is best left alone.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Published in the Waukegan DailySun, Waukegan, Illinois on Friday, December 15, 1922
A rope made of 3,000 gopher [ground squirrel tails was recently on display at the office of the Montana extension director, awaiting shipment to the biological survey of the United States Department of Agriculture. The rope was made by the Blackfeet Indian chief Split-Ear, and his tribal assistants, who live near Browning, in Glacier county, Montana. The Indians have taken as active interest in the campaign against the rodents, and after burying more than 1,400 ground squirrels decided to save tails for the 19-foot rope now on exhibition. It is estimated that at least 15,000 rodents were destroyed by the Indians during the drive.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Published in the Waukegan DailySun, Waukegan, Illinois on Friday, May 8, 1896
A prize of $250 for a method of inoculating squirrels with some contagious fatal disease is offered by the Commercial Association of Pendleton, Ore., and it is believed the county authorities will add to the sum offered. The farmers of that region are at their wits end as to how to mitigate the plague of squirrels. Tons of strychnine have been used in the effort to exterminate the squirrels by poisoning them, but little relief is had from this or any other method heretofore used.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, March 20, 1869
The following story has a “moral” which those who have watched the progress of the recent session of the General Assembly, as regards railway legislation may possibly appreciate.
A very curious railroad accident happened recently in India. A large elephant, seeing the red light and smoke, concluded the noisy locomotive was an enemy to be summarily demolished. He accordingly placed himself on the track, and met the strange creature head on, with trunk and tusks. The result was a sick elephant, eleven cars capsized and one man killed.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, April 24, 1869
The buffaloes found in the telegraph poles of the overland line a new source of delight on the treeless prairie-the novelty of having something to scratch against. But it is expensive scratching for the telegraph company, and there indeed was the rub, for the bison shook down miles of wire daily. A bright idea struck somebody to send to St. Louis and Chicago for all the bradawls that could be purchased, and these were driven into the poles with a view to wound the animals and check their rubbing propensity. [A bradawl is an awl with a beveled tip used to make holes in wood for brads or screws, The American Heritage Dictionary]Never was a greater mistake. The buffalo were delighted. For the first time they came to the scratch sure of a sensation in their thick hides that thrilled them from head to tail. They would go fifteen miles to find a bradawl. They fought huge battles around the poles containing them, and the victor would probably climb the mountainous heap of the rump and the hump of the fallen and scratch himself into bliss until the bradawl broke, or the pole came down. There has been no demand for bradawls from the Kansas region since the first invoice.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, June 29, 1878
That trim, gentle-looking, drab-colored bird, erroneously called turtledove by dwellers in the United States, and generally deemed so utterly innocent and pure that to kill it for the table or any other use is branded as heinous in the extreme, is not so innocent after all. Its moaning, sad-sounding, voice is a mockery and a cheat. Its soft dark eyes are a sham; its sober Quaker garb is calculated to deceive, its timid movements are not to be trusted. When it has once been insulted or injured by one of its kind, the dove becomes as cruel and outrageously heartless as any murderer can be. Some years ago I witnessed a fight between two female morning doves which for utter barbarousness could not be exceeded. I was angling in a brook for sun-perch, half-prone on a grassy bank lost in a brown study, with a cigar between by lips, when I happened to see a dove alight on a gnarled bough of a plane tree a few yards distant. Immediately it began to coo in that dolefully plaintive strain so well known to every lover of nature, and was soon joined by a male, who perched himself within a foot or two of her. I spied their nest, not yet finished, in the fork of an iron-wood near by. The birds made very expressive signs to each other with their heads by a series of bows, and sidewise motions, of which I understood enough to know that some intruder was near-perhaps they meant me. The fish were not biting any too well, but the shade was pleasant and the grass fragrant, the sound of the water very soothing, and the flow of the wind steady and cooling, so I did not care to move just to humor the whim of a pair of billing doves. It proved, however, after all, that I was not the cause of alarm. Another female dove presently dropped like a hawk from the dark, dense mass of leaves above the pair, and struck the first on the back with beak and wings. A fight ensued, witnessed with calm interest by myself and the male dove.
At first the combatants struggled desperately together on the bough, fiercely beating each other with their wings, and plucking out the feathers from breast and neck, all the time uttering low, querulous notes differing from anything I had ever before heard. Pretty soon they fell off the bough, and came whirling down upon the ground, where they continued the battle with constantly increasing fury, their eyes fairly flashing fire, and cutting and thrusting with their beaks like swordsmen. Blood began to show itself about their heads, and in places their necks were quite bare of feathers. When at last one of them became exhausted that further struggle was impossible, the other proceeded to take its stand upon its helpless opponent, and would have quickly made an end of it had I not interfered. The vanquished bird was minus an eye, and was unable to fly for some minutes. The secret of the battle was jealousy. The male sat by and watched in a nonchalant way until it was all over, when he very lovingly strutted to the victorious dove and began cooing in a low soothing tone. From that day to this I have repudiated the figure “innocent as a dove.”-Appleton’s Journal.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, August 17, 1878
Walking carelessly through their haunts I strewed some grain upon a suitable place, on which I dug with my knife a few round holes about four inches deep. Coming back to the spot in half an hour, I dropped grain into each hole, and left a noose round one of them, concealed with earth. The other end of the line was in bush. I was there in a short time, and monkeys were busy picking up the grain. An old fellow would look into a hole and chatter. By and by a plucky little fellow popped in his paw and out again. Next time he got the corn and then others dipped in till they finished the hole. In due course they got to the noose, with some chatter and the same results till the line was pulled. A sudden scream, a general bustle, while the captive was hauled home and enveloped in a horse-rug. By this time the troops ran up in the trees, screaming and shaking the boughs most ferociously, following me as I went away with the lost one kicking till he was tried. I believe this noose plan is frequently practiced. I once caught a monkey on the Trimluck Hill Fort that fell down the face of the scarp, knocking his head against the projections till he was brought up with a thud on a slab. He was nearly senseless when I picked him up. No bones were broken. In a few minutes I let him go to his relatives who had never ceased letting him know where they were. He crawled quietly up the sharp rock, and seemed to be received with anger. Possibly they only wished to know what had been said to him by the fellow without a tail.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, October 4, 1879
That whales have found for themselves a northwest passage, is proven by the fact that whales have been captured in the North Pacific having harpoons that were thrown into them on the other side of the continent, says the San Francisco Bulletin. Captain Bauldry, of the Helen Mar. took a right whale having in it a large flint harpoon, supposed to have been put in by natives of Cape Batherst, or the regions beyond the mouth of the Mackenzie river, because the natives on this side never use such weapons, but always bone or iron. Ten years ago the Adeline Gibbs took a whale in the Arctic with an iron in it which has been thrown the same season in the Hudson Bay; this was known to be so because the iron bore the mark of a ship at the time whaling in Hudson Bay.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Since it has been generally conceded that the fish which foundered Captain Larsen’s bark, Columbia, in mid-ocean, by thumping a big hole in her port bow must have been a whale, popular interest in the accident has palpably decreased. In truth, it was hardly more the strange disaster itself than the possibility of a new and dangerous sea monster being concerned in it that excited attention-some mysterious, powerful submarine creature, it was hoped, hitherto unknown and unexpected. Hence the opinion of one of the crew that a whale struck the vessel was at first scouted in favor of the more seductively indefinite statement of another that it was “a huge something with fins and tail/” All the evidence however, is in favor of the whale theory, and it is conceivable that a big whale, going at full speed, could stave in the planks of an old craft like the Columbia. Had the vessel been insured, some persons might possibly have found ground for suspecting a voluntary scuttling, but she is said not to be insured. Besides, Capt. Larsen, who is a white-haired mariner, with candid eyes, broken English, and an honest smile, has inspired general confidence in his veracity. It is said that this is the first case on record of a vessel actually sunk by a whale. Perhaps it should rather be called the first case of a sunken vessel whose crew escaped to tell the story. May not more than one vessel that has sailed and never been heard of have fallen a victim to this form of disaster?-N. Y. Sun.