Outdoor NEBRASKA

All material appearing in this magazine may be reprinted, provided a credit line is included giving credit to magazine and author.

GRAHAM PRINTING — LINCOLN, NEBR.

Table of Contents

TALE OF THE WALL

NINE times out of ten, the best way to provide more wildlife is to provide wildlife with more Wall. And thereby hangs a tale. Let me tell you the story of the Wall.

Every species of animal life is subject to hazards of various kinds. These are the checks and balances by which Nature keeps each species under control. To be sure, these hazards vary between the many species and the many ranges throughout the world, but they are high for all species. They are known by many names, but I prefer to call them mortality factors, for that is what they really are.

To keep these mortality factors under control, Nature has built a protective wall which we call habitat. Sometimes man adds planks to this wall, but more often he takes them away. I shall discuss this later. For the present it is enough to say that the density which any given species reaches within any given range is determined by the height, breadth, and strength of this wall.

Let us take our own species as an example. We are a part of the animal life of the earth, just as are the birds of the air, the beasts of the fields, and the fish of the sea. In our great cities we live in very high densities. Have you ever stopped to wonder why so many of us can live in such limited space?

We can do this only because a protective wall that is high, broad, and strong stands between us and our mortality factors. This wall is primarily a man-made wall, composed of such planks as housing, heating, sanitation, refrigeration, transportation, and communication. Behind that wall we reach, in one large city, a population exceeding that attained by our predecessors, the Indians, in all of America.

The red man lived in a virgin and fertile land. His ability to reproduce was probably as great as that of any other race, but unfortunately, his man-made wall was relatively low and weak. He relied primarily on Nature's wall, doing little to strengthen it with man-made additions. A modern city could not survive behind such a wall.

To illustrate this point, let's imagine that the citizens of one of our cities, say Omaha, were to lose just one of the man-made planks in their protective wall. Let's suppose the plank were the one we call sanitation. There would be no more sewage disposal, no more pasteurized milk, no more chlorine in the drinking water, no more doctors, no more drugs; in short, no man-made wall whatever to check the mortality factor we commonly call disease. Residents of Omaha would become highly vulnerable to this mortality factor, and epidemics would run riot. How long do you believe Omaha could maintain its present population under such circumstances?

Or let's suppose that Lincoln were to lose such a seemingly unimportant plank as transportation. There would be no more railroads, boats, automobiles, streetcars, buses—no transportation whatever for anyone other than his own two legs. Remember, everyone would be in the same predicament. The competition for such essentials as fuel and foodstuffs would be so great that all supplies in the Lincoln area would soon vanish. Residents of the Capital City would be compelled to go farther and farther afield for the barest of essentials. Imagine hiking 100 miles or more for a bag of coal or a slab of bacon.

Now, let us apply this principle of the protective wall to wildlife. When we do, we find that the game FALL ISSUE 3   and fish we rear on game farms and in hatcheries are protected by a man-made wall. Such wildlife is housed, fed, and protected in every possible way. Not so, though, with the game in our fields and the fish in our waters, for they have no protection except the wall that Nature builds and man leaves.

We commonly think of Nature's wall as being made up of cover, food, and water. But just any cover, food, and water is not enough. It is necessary to have certain kinds and distributions of cover, food, and water. Each species of wildlife has definite requirements. Wild turkeys cannot live on the prairies, and prairie chickens do not thrive in the forests. In other words, a good wall for prairie chickens is not a wall for wild turkeys, and vice versa.

We learn, then, that each species of wildlife will survive only in a range where Nature has built an adequate wall for it. That wall must be strong enough to reduce mortalities to a point not exceeding the rate of increase. When mortalities consistently exceed the rate of increase the species disappears; when increase exceeds mortalities the species becomes more abundant. When mortalities and increase balance, the species is stabilized.

Since mortality factors vary somewhat from year to year, densities will vary accordingly. However, it is only when the wall changes that the average density of the species rises or falls. The important thing to remember is that mortality factors do not vary greatly, but that often the wall does. The wall is the thing.

When we look at Nature's wall closely we find that it is made up of many planks, of which cover, food, and water are the principal groups. Included in cover are such planks as winter cover, nesting cover, roosting cover, escape cover, and travel cover. If we examine these closely we find that such things as the size, shape, permanence, density, and even the location of the cover will strengthen or weaken that particular part of the wall.

For example, if a covey of quail must travel 300 yards from escape cover to food, it is far more vulnerable than a covey that has to travel only 30 yards. Here location alone can modify the protective value of that plank we call escape cover.

The food group, too, is composed of many planks. Not only is the kind, amount, and availability of food very important, but its nutritive value modifies the protective value of the wall. We find that it is possible for wildlife to have an abundance of food, yet be inadequately nourished. As a matter of fact, it is very evident that the fertility of the soil has a bearing upon the densities and distribution of wildlife.

That this should be true is not so strange. All wildlife is dependent upon the soil for adequate nourishment. The soil supports the plant, and the plant supports the animal. If the species happens to be carnivorous, it lives on animals that live on plants that live on the soil. Plain logic tells us that the plant cannot transmit essential nutrients to the animal if the essential minerals are not present in the soil.

The water group, too, we find is composed of many planks. This is especially true if we study water in relation to fish and other aquatic species. The permanence, distribution, stability, and mineral contents of water are all planks in this wall. Even turbidity has its bearing since it reduces light penetration of water, and light is essential to plant growth.

There are many other planks in the wall, but I shall not take time to discuss them here. My purpose in telling the story of the Wall is to explain how wildlife lives, what makes game and fish abundant or scarce, and how we can increase wildlife on those ranges where the wall is low and weak.

I have stated that man sometimes adds planks to the wall, but more often takes them away. I have pointed out how civilized man adds planks to his own wall; now I shall tell you what he commonly does to the wildlife wall.

When the white man first came to America, the only wall that existed here was the wall that Nature had built. Today that wall has been changed so greatly on most ranges that old Mother Nature must have difficulty recognizing her own handiwork. Man's use — and abuse — of the land has changed the whole pattern, distribution, and kind of plant life that exists over much of America. Such a sweeping change cannot help but have an equally sweeping effect upon animal life. This man-made conversion is a continuing thing, hence the wildlife wall is constantly changing.

But we do not stop with merely changing the wall. Unthinkingly, we tear it down. We cut and raze our timber wall without regard for the future; we graze our vegetative wall to a point dangerously near complete destruction. We pollute our streams and drain our lakes and marshes. For no sound reason that I can see, we annually burn up vast acreages of Nature's protective wall.

Now this unsound use of the Wall would not be so serious if that were all of the story. Nature, given half a chance, soon rebuilds her wall. The truth is that we are also slowly destroying the very foundation of the Wall, the very soil upon which Nature must build.

Unprotected soils are washed away to the seas at an appalling rate each year. It is said that approximately half of all the productive topsoil in the nation has been partially or wholly destroyed since that historic day when the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. When our topsoil is gone, the Wall will be down, and we shall not be able to rebuild it.

When that happens, all life becomes precarious, for the Wall is that great and complex structure by means of which Nature protects and nourishes all the creatures of the earth. From it flows the very lifeblood of all things that walk, creep, swim or fly; it is a deadline beyond which none of these creatures can ever go.

Nature's wall rests upon and is primarily the product of the land. It is the one great, vital resource that Nature produces year in and year out for the protection and sustenance of all her creatures, including man. We can strengthen or weaken that wall, as our intelligence may determine. But let us never forget that the Wall is founded on the soil, and that once this foundation is gone we cannot restore it.

This nation has no surplus lands, no lands we can afford to destroy, no new great West to exploit, or no new frontiers to conquer. As a nation we must choose to live by the sustained yield of the lands we now possess, to maintain and strengthen the Wall we now have, or to resign ourselves to slow but certain disintegration. History records that many great nations of the past disintegrated with the destruction of the soils on which they lived. History will repeat itself unless modern man has the wisdom to profit by its teachings.

I have said that wildlife needs more Wall. That was an understatement. I should have said that all of America needs more Wall. We can build more Wall in America if we choose, but we must do so soon. We must choose to do so while we still have a foundation and framework on which to build.

No wall can be stronger than the foundation on which it rests, and a battered and broken framework will not hold many planks.

Remember that, in Nature's scheme of things, life is life; it makes no difference whether that life be wild or tame'. The welfare and abundance of all life depends on wall, and wall depends on us. We can build it up or we can tear it down, and the choice we make will determine the history of our nation and the fate of our civilization.

THE HUNTERS GARB

THE host of crimson-clad hunters who each year invade the nation's forests may this year become yellow-clad if the result of last year's field color tests are heeded.

Purpose of the tests was to discover the "best" color for the nation's millions of hunters to wear afield. The hunting-safety project was co-sponsored by the California Optometric Association and the California Department of Fish and Game, and directed by E. F. "Tod" Sloan, field representative of the National Rifle Association.

"For generations now, hunters have always worn red. It is mandatory in some states. We have thought it was the brightest, most easily seen color, and therefore the safest," Sloan comments.

"But just as most phases of the ancient sport of hunting—our guns, camping gear, food, wildlife, conservation practices—have been subjected to a 20th century scientific scrutiny, so it was time to question the color of our hunting garb."

Instigator of the "Why red?" hunting-safety project was Dr. Arthur C. Heinsen, Jr., of San Jose, president of the California Optometric Association. Specialists who contributed to the tests were Dr. Harold G. Anderson of Watsonville, Calif., Optometric Association safety director, and Leslie E. Lahr of Sacramento, assistant chief of patrol and hunting saftey officer for the California Department of Fish and Game. The United States Army contributed both personnel and facilities.

For the project, two 10-man teams of soldiers were used, one squad with normal color vision, the other group with color-deficient vision. Tests were to be a practical confirmation of the laboratory experiments on color vision conducted earlier by Dr. Gordon L. Walls, professor at the University of California School of Optometry.

An authority on color deficiency in human vision, Dr. Walls had found yellow to be the color most easily and correctly identified by those afflicted with some degree of color blindness. Since at least eight per cent of the population have deficient color perception, and the trait is confined almost exclusively to males, this means that well over a million of the nation's hunters might be deficient when it came to seeing red.

Also, the most common form of the malady being the so-called red-green colorblindness, the implications for hunting safety were obvious.

Results of the initial series of tests, conducted in July, 1956 at Fort Ord, 5th Infantry Division Headquarters near Monterey, Calif., were reported earlier in THE AMERICAN RIFLEMAN. Yellow far outdistanced every other color in being identified quickly, accurately, and easily, FALL ISSUE 5   not only by the color-deficient group, but by those with normal color vision as well.

Although the project had originally aimed at the colorblind hunter, the test results for the so-called normal group were so striking in their potential for improving hunting safety that the research team shifted its emphasis.

In December, 1956 two more series of tests were conducted, one in the deep green of the heavily timbered Fort Lewis (Washington) area, and the other in the snowclad hills of the Olympic Peninsula.

Co-operating on the tests were Major General Paul L. Freeman, Jr., 4th Infantry Division and Fort Lewis commanding general; Brigadier General Richard Steinbach, and members of the Washington Optometric Association, including Dr. Norman Connelly of Seattle, president.

The Washington Game Department, represented by Clayton J. Barnes of Seattle, Arthur K. Crews of Aberdeen, and Earl Mericle of Shelton, and Clark Walsh of Portland, assistant director of the Oregon Game Department, assisted on the tests. Major Frederick H. Jones was project officer for Fort Lewis.

Again, two 10-man teams of soldiers, one the normal color vision group, the other with color-deficient members as classified by Army optometrists, were used. The men were put through five days of intensive tests in the morning, noon, and almost-night in order to get results under various light conditions. The weather gave widely varied hunting conditions—rain, snow, fog, heavy mist, and even some clear weather.

Cloth-covered panels of different colors and shapes were placed at distances of 25, 50, 100, 150, 200, and 300 yards in the brush or against rocks or trees. Reported were percentage of times a particular color was recognized correctly, and the speed and accuracy in identifying each color.

The basic purpose of the whole project—greater hunting safety-was stressed rather grimly. A hunter was killed in an Olympic Peninsula elk basin the day before the tests began. Mericle, as local Washington Game Department protector, investigated the accident. The man had been half-hidden in foliage about 50 yards from the shooter. He was wearing a red hat and a red jacket.

After re-enacting the incident, Mericle remarked that the red jacket looked black to him. Dr. Heinsen commented that this was entirely possible since under poor light conditions, as in heavy woods, red can appear black.

He explains, "All colors, except red, turn to shades of gray as the light dims, before they turn to black. This is known as the 'achromatic' or 'gray' interval. But red has no interval; it changes from red to black abruptly."

Since hunting is often done during the early morning or twilight hours when light is anything but bright, Dr. Heinsen suggests that this may be another reason why red has been a poor protective color for a hunter.

The net results of all December tests showed that red is definitely not the quickest and easiest color to identify.

Combined results for both normal and color-deficient groups at the Fort Lewis series rated yellow four to five times as good as any other color, as the one most easily seen and most often correctly identified. For the color-deficient squad alone, yellow was 80 times more correctly and easily seen.

In the snow at the Olympic Peninsula tests, yellow was seen by the normal color-vision group at least twice as quickly and correctly, and by the color-deficient team 5V2 times as quickly as any other color.

Tests were also run on fluorescent colors. At midday or in good sunlight they were easy to identify but in early or late day, in shadows or partially concealed by foliage, they were far more difficult to spot than regular colors. Their great variability due to light conditions evidently would make them a decidedly poor protective device in all-around conditions.

Combined scores for both normal color-vision and color-deficient groups of men on all tests (Fort Ord, Fort Lewis, and the Oympic Peninsula), with point ratings of 75 for a perfect score down to a minimum of eight, are: yellow 72, orange 46, multi-color plaid 34, green 27, red 25, and blue 19.

As a vision specialist, Dr. Heinsen offers several explanations for the test results on red and yellow.

First, due to wave lengths of red itself, shades of red are hard to differentiate from those of other colors, such as brown. It often takes as many as 25 millimicrons (a wave - length measurement) for a change from red to another color to "look different." In the case of yellow, only one millimicron is needed for a change to be perceived. For practical purposes, this means yellow stands out, while red often does not.

Second, red is next to green in having the least width in the field of vision. This means, simply, that red is difficult to see out of the corners of the eyes. But yellow has the most width.

Third, red is one of the most confusing colors to color-deficient persons since it often appears to them as shades of gray. The fact that red lacks the "achromatic interval" and so looks black under certain light conditions makes it a poor color to be seen afield.

The research team plans to conduct a final test series this autumn in yellow and red foliage.

Summing up the significance of the project, Sloan points out, "Just because a man is or is not wearing red, or any other color, should not mean he is a possible target for another hunter. A good sportsman will make sure of his game—very sure—before he ever squeezes the trigger." THE END

"OUTDOOR NEBRASKA" BROADCASTS

Radio stations carrying the Game Commission weekly program are as follows:

New Publications Available

The 1957-58 Nebraska Game Laws and the Nebraska Dear bulletin are now available without charge from the Game Commission, State House, Lincoln. The law book contains all state laws pertaining to fish and game, while the deer bulletin gives information concerning mule and white-tailed deer, their management, and their harvest.

OVER-PRODUCTION

IN our world of modern business, Mother Nature might well be considered a wastrel in her handling of wildlife populations. The continued production of several units where only one is needed would bring almost certain doom to most manufacturers for they must adjust their output to the expected need for their products. But old Dame Nature almost invariably goes overboard and produces far more than can ever reach maturity as breeding stock. She repeatedly produces several young birds or mammals or fish or seeds, even where there is only space enough for one. And surprising as it may seem, this overproduction serves as the basis for the survival of her species and as the foundation of your recreational hunting.

We can illustrate this overproduction with a species such as cottontail rabbit. If next spring's population is to compare with last spring's, and if every rabbit has a secure place to live, each breeding female would have to produce only one or two young—just enough to replace the old rabbits which die by that time. But doe cottontails usually produce three to five litters in a season, each of which numbers four to seven young, several times the number required to merely replace the old ones which are lost.

How can this help a species? First, if a population is to survive, it must have the capacity to withstand not only the continual day-to-day losses to weather, predators, human activity and disease, but also the occasional catastrophe as well. An example is the cottontail. If the weather were so severe as to destroy most of the nests for a whole season, the cottontail would still hold on, for it takes only a relatively few young to provide a nucleus breeding population the next spring. Second, if the species is to be abundant, it must be able to fill the space that is available to it. When the environment is improved to accommodate a bigger rabbit population, the individuals which otherwise would have been surplus quickly occupy the new space.

Such improvements do not occur every year, but as wildlife cannot predict these changes, it overproduces nearly every breeding season. The surplus then is lost to one factor or another in the ensuing months. Whether this surplus is large or small depends on the size of the population relative to the living space that is available. This is where recreational hunting or harvest comes into the picture. A harvest can be taken from such a population virtually every year without any effect on the number that will be present the following year. Where surpluses exist, we can be certain that they will be removed in one way or another. If we do not harvest, we merely surrender this part of the resource to starvation, predators, and disease.

Yes, Mother Nature seems to know what she is doing in her program of continual overproduction. It works to the good of her species, and with good management, it works to the good of every outdoorsman. THE END

Pheasants: FROM THE FIELD TO THE TABLE

TALK ABOUT PRONGHORNS

THIS year marked the fifth consecutive season that resident sportsmen have had the opportunity to hunt pronghorn antelope in Nebraska. This eagle-eyed, super-speed resident of western Nebraska has provided sport for about 3,500 hunters since 1952. While these have been limited hunts, they do show that antelope, when managed properly, can sustain an annual harvest.

The pronghorn is considered by many to be the most interesting wild animal inhabiting Nebraska. He is certainly the most unique. His phenomenal eyesight, terrific speed, unusual horns, and other characteristics have made him a favorite with sportsmen, naturalists, and just about everyone interested in the out-of-doors.

Historical records indicate that at one time antelope ranged throughout Nebraska. According to John Townsend, antelope were abundant near the mouth of the Platte River in 1834. Lt. G. K. Warren reported in 1855 that antelope were numerous in the eastern portion of the sandhills. Such names as Antelope Valley and Antelope County indicate that antelope were at one time found there.

As the native prairie was converted to cropland, antelope habitat suffered accordingly. And as high-powered rifles and the food demands of a growing nation increased antelope populations decreased. Mother Nature had not allowed for the rifle and plow when she adapted the antelope to life on the prairie.

In 1873, the state legislature passed the first law regulating hunting of antelope, an indication that 10 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   Nebraskans were becoming concerned over their dwindling antelope resource. In 1907, the pronghorn and other big-game animals were given complete protection by legislation. With legal protection and the new philosophy of conservation inspired by Theodore Roosevelt, the few remaining bands of antelope were reasonably secure.

Even with complete protection, though, the state's antelope population was slow to recover. It wasn't until 1953 that antelope had increased enough to warrant a limited hunting season. That year a total of 150 permits were issued for part of Cheyenne County, and 89 per cent of the permittees bagged an antelope.

The following year the number of permits was increased to 500 and the open area was expanded to include parts of Garden, Morrill, Scotts Bluff, Sheridan, Box Butte, Dawes, and Sioux counties. Hunter success remained high as 84.2 per cent of the permit holders took an antelope home.

In 1955 the number of permits climbed again, this time to 1,000. Of the 923 hunters that actually went afield, 86.2 per cent were successful. In 1956 antelope hunters numbered 897 and 83.3 per cent of these permittees bagged an antelope.

Presently antelope are distributed throughout most of the plains and sandhill regions of the Nebraska panhandle, and it appears that they are increasing in numbers. In fact, observations during the past few years indicate that the pronghorns are gradually extending their range eastward into the sandhill country.

Right here it might be appropriate to mention that zoologists say our pronghorn isn't an antelope at all. According to the zoologist's way of organizing animal life, the only true antelope occur in the Old World. The truth is, there is really nothing quite like our pronghorn anywhere. He has been classified in a family all by himself—the Antilocapridae.

He has characteristics of the giraffe, goat, deer, and true antelope. It is his horns that set him apart from the other hoofed mammals. The horn is composed of an outer sheath and a bony core. The sheath, which is shed in late fall, is formed by hairs solidly glued together. By the way, both male and female antelope have horns. The female's horns, though, are quite small and lack the prong and backward curve that are characteristic of the male antelope.

Mother Nature has provided the pronghorn with certain characteristics that have adapted him well to the wide-open country he inhabits. As every antelope hunter knows, it is the pronghorn's sight and speed that makes him the game animal he is. His eyes are said to be equal to a high-powered binocular. They are set far out from his skull, giving him an extremely wide angle of vision.

To say that the pronghorn is a fast runner is an understatement, for he is one of the swiftest mammals on earth. Speeds up to 60 miles per hour have been recorded, although this is exceptional. Antelope can travel for relatively long distances at speeds of from 30 to 40 mph.

Western Nebraska's cold winters and hot summers would make life miserable for the pronghorn if he didn't have a special type of hair. The hairs are built along the lines of a thermos bottle, as each hair has a dead air space in the middle. This insulation helps keep body heat in and cold winter air out. A special set of muscles beneath the skin allows the antelope to raise his hair at will. This comes in handy during the hot summer days by allowing air to circulate next to the skin.

In the spring when the days are warming and the prairie bursts into bloom, the does begin to leave the large winter bands to look for secluded places to drop their kids. In Nebraska most of the kids are born during early June and twins are common.

The kidding season is a very critical time, particularly during a kid's first week of life when he is subjected to many dangers. A drenching shower or an unseasonal cold snap may seriously reduce the kid crop. Coyotes and golden eagles have their eyes open for young, tender antelope at this time of the year, too. The greatest protection a young kid has is his ability to lie perfectly still and blend in so well with the surroundings that he escapes detection. It is believed that young antelope have no scent during these early days, which is extremely helpful in escaping their arch enemy, the coyote.

The youngsters develop rapidly and in a few days are able to outrun a man. At one week of age they can run like adults and delight in romping around with the other kids.

As the summer progresses, they depend less and less upon their mother's milk for nourishment and begin to eat the lush prairie vegetation. Studies of their eating habits show their favorite foods to be weeds, sagebrush, cacti, and agricultural crops. Only about one per cent of their diet is grass.

When fall approaches the bucks begin to gather their harems. This often involves lots of footwork for the bucks in order to keep their does together and prevent other bucks from stealing them. Naturally there is quite a bit of quarreling and fighting among the bucks during this "rutting" season.

After the mating season has passed, antelope begin to form large bands that are composed of both sexes FALL ISSUE 11   and all age classes. During winter it BUCK is possible to see bands of 50 to over 100 antelope.

Let us now talk a bit about management. When we speak of game animals and hunting seasons, we must try to gauge our thinking to a crop. Just as a wheat farmer or cattle rancher raises a crop during the spring and summer, so do our game animals produce a crop. And just as a wheat crop or cattle crop is harvested in the fall, so is our game crop harvested. Like all other crops we must be certain that enough seed stock is left after the harvest to produce another crop of game next year.

We regulate the harvest of game by imposing bag limits and season. In the case of antelope, the number of animals to be harvested is controlled by the Game Commission in issuing a determined number of hunting permits.

The Nebraska hunter shares the annual crop of game with Mother Nature. After she has taken her share through disease, predation, weather, etc., the remainder can be harvested by the hunter the so-called harvestable surplus.

The Game Commission keeps a close check on antelope populations to determine their ups and downs. An annual inventory is taken each summer to determine the population level of the antelope. An airplane is flown systematically back and forth over our major antelope range, and all the pronghorns observed for one quarter of a mile on each side of the plane are counted. The department can calculate the approximate total population from this sample and also determine the reproductive success by comparing the number of females to the number of kids. This is very important. If reproduction has been poor for some reason, it will mean fewer animals to produce future crops.

Here in Nebraska the pronghorn country is divided into five management units. The number of antelope in each unit and the number of animals harvested in each unit during the hunting season are recorded. Every successful hunter is required to take his animal to a checking station, where it is weighed and aged. Measurements are taken of the horns and skeleton size. This biological data helps to determine the general condition of the antelope herd. If the animals are small and sickly the Game Commission can begin looking for causes and perhaps remedy the situation. So far, though, Nebraska pronghorns have been big and healthy.

Changes in land use have made it impossible for antelope to reinhabit much of their original range, but there is one section of Nebraska where land use has remained essentially unchanged—the sandhills. The natural dispersion of antelope into the sandhill region was mentioned previously. It takes a long time for antelope to reoccupy a range once they have been removed. Nevertheless, this natural process can be hastened by starting several nucleus herds in the sandhills and allowing them to expand.

Many thousands of acres are now being signed up under co-operative agreements between sandhill ranchers and the Game Commission for antelope releases. If this project is successful, Nebraskans will some day enjoy the aesthetic and recreational attributes of the pronghorn antelope in the sandhills. THE END

HUNTERS RACK UP HIGH SUCCESS SCORE

For the fifth straight year Nebraska's antelope hunters achieved a remarkably high success score. Seventy-three per cent of this year's 1,060 permit holders brought antelope to Game Commission stations for official checking and sealing.

The Sept. 14-16 season was particularly outstanding in regard to hunter-landowner relations. Numerous sportsmen commented to Game Commission representatives about the helpfulness of landowners. Some lands, though, were posted because of dry conditions and the danger of fire.

R. N. Dungan of Ogallala and L. S. Rombach of Grand Island shared honors for shooting the heaviest antelope. Each shot bucks that dressed out at 104 pounds. Among the largest pair of horns was on the antelope taken by D. Schweiger of Grand Island. Measurements were: left horn, 16y2 inches long, 6 inches in circumference; right horn, 16 inches long, 6V4 inches in circuference.

Final checking station totals:

Bridgeport, 49; Oshkosh, 144; Crawford, 170; Gering, 99; Sidney, 60; Harrison, 107; Alliance, 151.

HUNTING and TRAPPING REGULATIONS

PLIGHT of the WHOOPER

SHORTLY before press time this writer learned in a Lincoln-to-Regina, Saskatchewan telephone interview with Fred Bard of the Provincial Museum of Naural History that "there is no evidence as yet of migrating whooping cranes. Last report on whoopers was about a month ago when two summer stragglers were observed."

Sandhill cranes, Bard said, were just beginning to build up in the waterfowl resting areas prior to starting their southward migration. And one of the best ways to keep tab on whoopers is to study the sandhill-crane flights with binoculars. Last year the big movement of sandhill cranes got under way on October 8. Two whooping cranes were spotted in one flight.

From Fort Smith in the Northwest Territory, wildlife biologist N. S. Novakowski wrote that the latest information based on a flight into the area is that three adult pairs—each with one young—are still in the area. More information on their movements, he added, will be forthcoming.

Even before the telephone conversation with Bard and the exchange of correspondence with Novakowski, the Nebraska Game Commission had received a report of "four whooping cranes seen east of Talmadge." Game Commission technicans were immediately skeptical, for Talmadge is out of the regular flight line. Investigations proved the birds to be pelicans.

Further reports on what appear to be whooping cranes will be received, and some will check out, for Nebraska lies directly in the path of the whooping-crane migration. The main danger area during the migration through Nebraska, where whoopers are most likely to be seen, is in the Platte River Basin, specifically in the area of North Platte. The danger areas include Alliance, Arthur, Aurora, Bridgeport, Broken Bow, Grand Island, Hastings, Hyannis, Kearney, Lexington, Loup City, Minden, North Platte, Oshkosh, Sherman, Stapleton, Tryon, and York.

Other danger areas in the United States that are frequented during the migration: North and South Dakota, particularly the upper Missouri River; south Kansas salt flats; north Oklahoma salt flats; south Oklahoma along the Red River; and Texas along the Red River.

Whoopers generally travel in small groups, perhaps only a pair or a family group of three. Their flights begin at the northern end of the flyway in late September, continue through October, and are completed some time in 14 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   early November. During migration they occasionally fly at such tremendous heights that they may pass over large areas unnoticed by man.

A majestic bird, the whooper stands over four feet tall and is one of the most beautiful and spectacular of all birds of America. It has a wing spread of seven feet; flies with neck and legs out straight; has a white plumage except for black tips on wings; has black legs and yellow bill; and has a bare red crown. It is some times confused with the snow goose, white pelican, American egret, and whistling swan.

The physical appearance of the young and adults varies somewhat. The head of the young is feathered and the plumage is whitish, variegated with rusty brown. The adults are white with black primaries and coverts; the bare part of the head is carmine; the bill dusky-greenish; the legs black; and the iris yellow.

As most of us know, the normally long-lived whooping crane is extremely close to extinction, despite the FALL ISSUE 15   success the different conservation organizations have had in attempting to preserve this magnificent species. No one knows exactly what the whooper population is at this particular moment. We do know, however, that last fall there were 27 whooping crane remaining out of the thousands which once lived in North America.

And we do definitely know about the three adult pairs—each with one young—that N. S. Novakowski of the Northwest Territory reported, and about Crip and Josephine and their two whoopers hatched in the New Orleans zoo this year.

Josephine is of particular interest to Nebraskans, for in 1948 she was taken from New Orleans to the Aransas Refuge in Texas and mated with "Old Pete." The latter whooping crane was an ancient, one-eyed, and otherwise battered-up bird that had been in the possession of the Gothenburg Rod and Gun Club in Nebraska, which had rescued him after he had been wounded by a hunter. In the spring of 1949, Josephine laid a set of two eggs, but they failed to hatch. Old Pete died a few months later.

The modern whooping-crane inventory started in 1938, when Jim Stevenson and Everett Beaty of the then newly established Aranas Refuge watched eight known breeding adults with their four young, and six additional adults of unknown age and relationship take off for the North in late April, 1939. The population has had its ups and downs, and not too long ago there were as many as 30 migrants in the spring flight.

The danger to the survival of the whoopers is from hunters who may mistake the crane for some other white bird that may be legally hunted. Then, too, there are some people who do not have sufficient skill to recognize the different species of migrating waterfowl, and who 'will shoot at anything.

"If we can continue to keep the loss of whooping cranes from hunting to zero," writes William A. Jerr of the National Audubon Society, "we stand a good chance of perpetuating the species. However, the loss of one single bird, due to hunting, imperils the survival of the species at this point."

What are we doing in Nebraska to protect and perpetuate this species? The Game Commission sort of "ropes off" any area where the whoopers light and stay, and puts a special guard on the area.

What about a refuge? Would that be the answer? A refuge has many advantages but it would be impractical, for we never know what spot the whoopers may choose to use in their migrations through the state. As a consequence, the Game Commission adopted the "roping off" technique and found that it works well. This was done at Harlan County Reservoir last fall when some whooping cranes stopped there.

Game Commission director Mel Steen, who, incidentally, is a member of the National Advisory Board for the preservation of the whooping crane, also organized a sort of convoy system down through the flyway. Each state reports by telephone to the next adjoining state the presence or observation of cranes during their migration.

The Game Commission uses all of its facilities to cover and protect the whoopers, including aircraft and special patrol. In addition to departmental personnel, the aid of the public is enlisted. People throughout the state are asked to immediately call collect whenever they observe any whooping crane, in flight or on the ground.

Another step on behalf of the whooping crane was made during this year's session of the state legislature. Director Steen sponsored legislation increasing the penalty for killing a whooping crane. Such an offense now carries a minimum penalty of $400.

The plight of the whooper concerns us all. Bring the situation to the attention of all your friends who are hunters or outdoorsmen. Enlist their help in preserving and perpetuating America's most magnificent bird.

HUNTING LOW-DOWN

Prospects for hunting success appear to be quite similar to those of 1956 as a result of good gains in production. Last year's poor reproduction was followed by a poor survival through to spring, resulting in a sizeable decline in our 1957 breeding population. During the summer months, however, the picture changes and we now expect the fall's population to be comparable to last fall's. Figures kept by conservation officers and technicians on pheasants seen confirm the improvement in nesting success. Of special interest is the fact that 76 per cent of all hens seen during this period were accompanied by broods—the highest figure since 1951.

Results of the spring grouse breeding population surveys indicated a decline in prairie grouse from 1956 to 1957 over all of their range in Nebraska. Preliminary brood observations, though, indicate improved reproduction in the summer of 1957.

The 1957 summer data indicate a quail population very similar to the excellent 1956 population in all major areas of the state.

Rains during 1957 improved the picture of lakes and potholes in Nebraska. As a result the populations of breeding ducks in the state increased significantly over the previous year, and production has been good.

Much of the Central Flyway breeding range, however, was characterized by drought. Nevertheless, reports indicate that there should be no change in the fall flight of ducks in the Central Flying as compared to 1956.

On the basis of a decrease in the breeding population, it is estimated that there will be a small decrease in the fall flight.

PUBLIC SHOOTING AREAS

FORTY-SEVEN different areas—state-owned or state-operated—beckon sportsmen during Nebraska's open hunting seasons. These areas, consisting of public shooting grounds and recreation grounds, total roughly 34,000 acres of land and water, and are open to the public without charge.

Probably the prize of the lot as far as pheasant and duck shooters are concerned is the Sacramento Lake Public Hunting Grounds and Game Refuge, 2V2 miles west of Wilcox. Located in one of the state's largest rainwater basins, the area is divided almost equally for sportsmen and wildlife—part as a public shooting grounds and part as a game refuge.

The area has shelterbelt plantings, fertile fields of corn, wheat, and grass, and is surrounded by living fence rows of rosa multiflora. Pheasants generally abound and waterfowl frequent the rain-water lake.

Ballards Marsh Public Shooting Grounds, 20 miles south of Valentine, caters to duck hunters. The abundant high rushes and reeds there eliminate the need for blinds. Obtained in July 1930, this was the first public-shooting grounds established in Nebraska.

Three areas—Gilbert-Baker, 4% miles north of Harrison; Metcalf, 7 miles north of Hay Springs; Peterson, 5 miles west of Fort Robinson—provide pine-ridge country for the big-game hunters.

Enders and Medicine Creek Reservoir areas, combination public-shooting and recreation grounds, afford both pheasant and duck hunting. Each has a wealth of water surrounded by croplands.

Two other reservoirs—Harlan County, south of Alma, and Gavins Point, north of Crofton—are open to the public. They are not, however, managed by the Game Commission.

The recreation grounds, though obtained primarily for fishing, afford some hunting. Exceptions are Walgren and Willow Lakes, which are closed during the waterfowl season. The use of firearms (continued on page 2U)

SHOOTING KNOW-HOW

ABOUT THE AUTHOR ... Jim McCole, game warden from Gering, has won some of the top trapshooting crowns in the state since joining the Nebraska Game Commission in 1949. A firm believer in starting as young as possible, Jim got his first shotgun at the age of six. He has since become Nebraska All-Around Champion twice (1955-1956), Open Champion in 1957, and High Over-All Champion twice.

Realizing the difference between trap and field shooting, Jim gives us some tips that not only helped him become a champion trapshooter, but also helped him bag more game.

THERE are three things that will improve a sportsman's marksmanship whether it be in shooting trap or hunting in the field. First is a gun that fits the shooter; second is learning to match one's reflexes, that is, a deliberate pointer or a spot shooter; and third is a good pair of eyes, corrected or uncorrected.

A good-fitting gun not only helps the hunter get more game, but also increases his pleasure of shooting. The invigorating thrill of being out on a cool crisp morning, hearing the roar of a shotgun, and seeing your game drop to the ground with a clean kill can be marred by a slam on the cheekbone or a gouge into the shoulder muscles by an improperly fitted stock. Do not let this happen to you. A good method of testing the fit of your gun is to place the butt securely in the shoulder pocket and to lay your cheek against the stock. If you can then sight down the top of the barrel without lifting or lowbusiness. In this position your gun will always be on the same level, and with a little practice you will be able to determine where your gun is shooting. And it will always shoot the same.

Every person's reflexes are different and you must determine whether yours are fast or a little slow, for this will help you in selecting the proper length of barrel. Although you naturally need average reflexes to pick your target quickly, chances are you will develop into either a deliberate pointer or a spot shooter. The deliberate pointer picks the bird up with his gun and follows it out, taking his lead from there. In this case, if your reflexes are quick, you'll do well with any length barrel. But if you are a little slow a long-barrel gun, such as a 32 or 34-inch barrel, will give you trouble because it takes more time to track with the longer barrel. Here a 26 or 28-inch barrel will give much better results.

On the other hand, a spot shooter picks a spot in front of the bird and automatically fires when he hits that spot. With this method he does not track the bird at all. This type of shooting calls for quick reflexes and positive action. Good practice for developing this action is to pick a predetermined target and point the gun at it as quickly as possible. Before long you will be able to pick a target, close your eyes, and point the target dead center with your gun. This is also good practice for youngsters learning to handle a gun.

It is equally as important in field shooting as in trapshooting to try and face the target squarely and shoot with both eyes open. With this method you will be able to get a quicker view of the bird. Also as the years pass, your eyesight will perhaps grow weaker and you will find that shooting with both eyes produces better results

Eyes play an important part not only in being able to see a target but also in determining whether it is your target or a hunting companion, or even a domestic animal. Some feel that "outdoor he-man" hunters should not be bothered with such sissy things as glasses. But if you need them, wear them. Many expert trap and skeet shooters who do not normally need glasses wear a noncorrective type that protects their eyes from blowing dust, smoke, and hot powder. This hardly need be the rule for hunters, but glasses—if needed—will certainly do more good than harm.

Choosing the right gun is also a major part of being a good shot. Pick a gun that feels comfortable, not because someone tells you one is better than the other. But be careful of barrel length. Some shooters say that a 32 or 34-inch barrel will kill farther than 26 or 28-inch barrel. This is not true, for a 26-inch barrel with the same choke as a 32-inch will kill just as far. As was mentioned before, the length of barrel can be a hindrance.

In picking a gun for their youngster, many fathers feel that a small gauge gun is the best because it kicks less. Yet they expect the boy to do as well with that gun as they do with a larger gauge. If you some day plan on the boy having a larger gauge, buy it for him now and let him shoot a light load shell, such as a No. 6 with a 2% dram powder charge.

Now that you have picked your gun, completely familiarize yourself with it. Know how everything operates and be able to tell when the gun is functioning improperly. Plan on shooting as much as possible during the year so that when hunting season rolls around, you won't have to familiarize yourself with the gun again. One way to do this is to frequent a gun club, (continued on page 21)

RETRIEVER PAYOFF

LAST hunting season a friend of mine told me about knocking down five cock pheasants but being able to find only one. In my opinion this was a needless waste, one that occurs much too often every fall. Another acquaintance told me that he and some friends had brought home their limit of ducks from the west end of Lake McConaughy. He also said, though, that they had lost as many crippled birds in the willows and brush as they had recovered.

Many of these birds could have been saved if the hunters had been using a good retriever. Although many of our birds have brilliant plummage, they blend very easily into the surrounding cover, and when hit may be able to crawl into even heavier cover. Only a retriever with a good nose will be able to find most of these birds.

At the end of last season I figured my golden retriever, Buck, had retrieved more than 60 pheasants. On opening day, with the ground extremely dry and the dust hard on the dog's nose, our group of hunters lost one bird. In this case the hunter who had shot the missing bird did not say a word about it until we were completely through the field. Then he led us back to the spot where he thought the bird had come down, but the dog was unable to locate it.

After the opening week end rain fell making scenting conditions ideal, and thanks to my retriever, we did not lose another bird. Several times we watched Buck trail cripples through picked corn fields for better than one-half mile and still pick them up. I would be willing to say that we would have lost one-third of the pheasants we knocked down in the heavy irrigated cover if we had not had Buck along. At least a half a dozen times Buck found birds that other hunters had knocked down but lost.

The same holds true for our duck hunting. Much of it was done on ponds and sloughs that had practically dried up, and where grass and weeds around the remaining water made ideal cover for cripples. One morning when I arrived at our blind a little late, my partner told me that he had four ducks down in the surrounding slough and that he was unable to find even one. I gave Buck a line in the general direction of the downed birds and he responded admirably by retrieving all four ducks.

There are many good hunting dogs, but for pheasant and duck hunting, my choice is the retriever. There are three main breeds in the retriever group: the Chesapeake, Labrador, and golden.

The Chesapeake is one of the most rugged outdoor dogs. His ability to withstand cold temperatures makes him an exceptionally good waterfowl dog. He is not, however, as well suited for upland game hunting as are the other two breeds.

Probably the most popular retriever today is the Labrador. He is very adaptable to both upland-game and 20 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   duck hunting, being particularly desirable because of his great stamina.

The golden retriever, a newer breed of dog in the Midwest, is rapidly gaining in popularity. I believe most retriever men will concede that the golden has the best nose of the three breeds and that he is very well suited for upland-game hunting. The golden has a mild temperament, unlike the bullheadedness of the others. The impatient beginner with small children will appreciate both of these traits in the golden.

All three of these retrievers are known for their scenting powers, stamina, and ability to withstand cold water. Their resistance to cold water comes from the fact that they have two layers of hair that have an insulating quality.

I am sure that anyone owning any of these dogs will feel their breed is best. I am no different. All three are good breeds, but in my opinion the golden ranks first. One reason is that the goldens have shown me unsurpassable scenting ability. I have seen my dogs, when the wind was right, scent hidden game over 80 yards away.

It is natural for these breeds to want to retrieve. In fact, I have seen eight-week-old golden pups retrieve objects thrown for their benefit. I took a three-month-old golden along on a hunting trip last fall and he proceeded to retrieve three pheasants that day. When my present retriever was 10 months old, he got his initiation into cold-weather hunting. The first day out he performed like a veteran, bringing in eight ducks and three geese without losing a bird.

What about training? It does not take much time to train a good retriever. Fifteen minutes a day will turn out a dog you will be proud to hunt with. Incidentally, a good book for the beginner to read is Training Your Retriever by James Lamb Free.

For the hunter contemplating purchase of a retriever pup, but who can't decide on the breed, I would suggest that he attend a local retriever trial. There are four retriever clubs in the state that hold American Kennel Club-sanctioned trials on their respective training grounds. By attending some of these trials you will be able to see the three major retriever breeds in action. In this way you can decide for yourself which is the best dog, and perhaps make a contact for purchasing one of your choice.

While all the clubs do not sell pups, the secretaries might be able to furnish an interested person with the names of parties having good pups for sale. Practically every evening at the club will find some of the members training their retrievers, and all are willing to help a new member train his dog.

Perhaps you might even get interested in running your dog at some of the trials. There are no cash prizes involved, but you can win ribbons and have the satisfaction of seeing your dog outperform all the rest. And by running your dog in the trials you can stretch your field fun to about nine months each year.

Why not get yourself a good retriever pup. Train him, hunt him, and he will reward you with service, companionship, and devotion that cannot be matched by any other animal.

If you are looking for a retriever and would like to contact one of the Nebraska Retriever clubs, their names and addresses are as follows:

Nebraska Dog and Hunt Club, Neil W. Hall, secretary, 2825 Stratford, Lincoln.

Central Nebraska Retriever Club, Lloyd J. Kessel, secretary, 2104 W. 18th St., Grand Island.

Missouri Valley Hunt Club, Edwin A. Dygert, secretary, 504 Center Bldg., Omaha.

Nebraska Golden Retriever Club, Mrs. Dorothy Leasure, secretary, c/o Leasure Pontiac, Broadway at Frank Street, Council Bluffs, Iowa.

SHOOTING KNOW-HOW

There are many clubs in Nebraska and all have the welcome sign and. By shooting at the these clubs you will get the feel of your gun and have more time to concentrate on it than you have in the field.

If you should find that you have little success with your gun, don't change guns. It may just be a small matter of having the stock changed to fit you better and give you the proper sight picture. But never become disgusted. Like anything else, it takes practice to become adept.

Shooting trap, even though it will help you get the feel of your gun and teach you to pick up your target quickly, does not come near simulating field shooting. In trap you onry have five positions to shoot from and the bird will never be at more than a 45° angle from your gun. Skeet, on the other hand, is the best practice for game hunters, for targets come at you from all angles. This more closely matches the type of shooting you have in the field.

There are many things to remember when afield, but one of the most important is not to shoot too soon. If a flock of ducks or geese is coming in, just keep thinking that "they can't get any farther away, so they have to come closer." A 55-yard shot with a 12 gauge field load is plenty far enough away.

Many hunters make the mistake of flock shooting they shoot into the flock instead of at one bird. If you take time to single out one bird or a double, you'll have a much better net result at the end of the day.

It is easy to sit here and theorize on how a hunter may obtain better results, but in the end it is still up to the shooter. Practice is definitely the key, and without it the door to becoming a good shot is tightly locked.

SHOOTERS' GLOSSARY

SHOTGUN: A smooth-bore (no rifling) firearm which shoots a large number of small shot (pellets) rather than a projectile (bullet).

CENTER-FIRE RIFLE: A cartridge-firing rifle with a primer centered in the back of the shell or case.

RIM-FIRE RIFLE: A cartridge-firing rifle in which the priming composition is contained in the outside rim of the shell—the rim of the circle. Rule of thumb—usually a .22 caliber rifle.

CARTRIDGE: The complete "shell" containing the bullet, or lead front part that is fired out the muzzle, and the "jacket" in which the bullet and powder are inserted.

PLINKING: Shooting a .22 caliber rifle of any type for fun, under safe conditions—firing at tin cans, on ranges, etc.

Pursued foxes have been known to leap on the back of a sheep and ride for some distance in an attempt to break the scent left by the glands on the feet.

Muskrats are powerful swimmers and when changing localities prefer to travel in water rather than overland.

The skunk is usually a silent animal but can utter a low, scolding growl when not overly excited.

FALL OVER-TURN

Many anglers, as these, fish the deepest waters, unaware that no fish exist that deep in some, because of the thermocline

LAKES exhibit many and varied characteristics. Some lakes are big, some are little; some are productive, some are unproductive; some are deep, some are shallow; some stratify thermally, and some do not. This article concerns the latter characteristic.

Suppose, in late summer, we go out to the deepest part of a lake. Then, using an electrical thermometer, we take the temperature of the water at two-foot intervals, from surface to bottom. This surface-to-bottom temperature series is called the "temperature profile" of the lake. We note that temperature readings remain almost constant for the first several feet down. As the thermometer goes deeper, though, the temperature quite suddenly starts to change, dropping about one-half degree per foot drop in depth. This drop in temperature per foot of drop continues through a few feet of water. But from this point on to the bottom the temperature ceases to change appreciably and remains almost the same.

From the above temperature profile we have established that the lake is stratified thermally—meaning that there is an upper warm layer of water with about the same temperature, a thin middle layer in which temperature drops with depth, and a bottom layer in which the temperature is quite constant, but colder than in the layers above.

This finished, we next take water samples at regular intervals from top to bottom to determine the oxgen content. We find that oxygen levels are satisfactory in the upper layer and low in the thin middle layer. The bottom layer, though, is low or devoid of dissolved oxygen. The significance of this is that fish would not inhabit the bottom layer, for they require a certain level of dissolved oxygen. This is low or completely absent in the lower layer of a stratified lake during summer stagnation.

Now that we have established some of the characteristics of a stratified lake in late summer, let us talk about the conditions leading up to stratification. In the spring, as the ice melts, water arrives at a temperature where density of the surface water is higher than the density of water below. This factor, coupled with wind action, results in what is known as the spring overturn. During this period the lake exhibits a uniform temperature from top to bottom, and in the process of overturn becomes saturated with dissolved oxygen.

As the season progresses, the surface water warms, and as a result, surface-water density is reduced. The resulting lighter, warmer surface water does not mix appreciably with the colder, deeper water. Stratification is the result. As the lower water layer is "shut off" from circulation, its temperature remains low and dissolved oxygen is gradually diminished, usually to the point of depletion in late summer. In fall, when surface water again cools to the temperature resulting in greatest water density, the lake goes through the fall overturn. Temperatures are again quite uniform for a short period of time and dissolved oxygen in the water is again replenished.

The preceding is generally what occurs in Nebraska in lakes exhibiting thermal stratification. All of our lakes, 22 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   though, do not stratify. Generally speaking, shallow lakes subject to much wind and wave action do not exhibit stratification.

By now you are probably wondering just what the subject of stratification has to do with fish management and fishing.

Taking fish management first, and considering a lake that stratifies, I will discuss a few of the limitations stratification imposes on the fish population. We know that the bottom layer of water, devoid of dissolved oxygen in late summer, is unproductive of fish while this condition works no hardship on warm-water species which prefer the upper warm layer, it makes the lake uninhabitable by cold-water fish such as trout. The cold water of the lower layer of preferred, bu the lack of oxygen there makes impossible.

As you readily recognize, fishing would be unproductive in the lower water layer where oxygen is missing. Well, then, you fishermen ask, what lakes and reservoirs in Nebraska stratify, at what depth, and at what time of year would the lower water layer be devoid of oxxygen? Let us first consider the mumrous gravel pits in the FALL ISSUE 23   state. We can say, very generally, that if they are 20 or more feet deep they will be stratified, and that water below 10 feet will be low or devoid of dissolved oxygen in late summer—is usually from late July until surface waters cool again in the fall. So if you are going to fish a gravel pit in summer, fish in the upper 10 feet.

What about our lakes and reservoirs? We know quite definitely that our sandhill lakes usually do not stratify thermally during the summer, and that dissolved oxygen levels are generally high at all depths.

Maloney and McConaughy are the two Platte Valley reservoirs that have been checked to date for stratification. Maloney does not exhibit thermal stratification and dissolved oxygen is high at all levels. McConaughy, though, stratifies and oxygen is generally absent at depths over 70 feet in late summer.

Reservoirs in the Republican River drainage in southwestern Nebraska all exhibit thermal stratification. Dissolved oxygen in these reservoirs in late summer is generally insufficient for fish below 40 feet.

Stratification and dissolved oxygen levels in lakes and reservoirs are generally subject to considerable variation during the summer, and from year to year. Some of the factors causing this variation are air temperature, water inflow and outflow, fluctuation, and wind action. Because of this variation in stratification it is impossible to say exactly at what depth and time of the season one would find the lower water to be devoid of oxygen. To do so on any lake would necessitate making continual temperature and oxygen readings each day.

In Tennessee, studies on some T. V. A. reservoirs indicated that the distribution of fish was influenced by thermal stratification. Regular temperature readings, water chemistries, and fish samples were collected throughout the season. Using this data, information on the proper area and depth to fish was established.

Perhaps sometime in the future we can do the same thing on a reservoir here in Nebraska. But in the meantime, don't always fish on the bottom in the deepest water you can find in late summer. Move around and fish at various depths until the fish are located. Your creel will show the results.

PUBLIC SHOOTING GROUNDS

on state recreation areas, though, is restricted to the period October 1 through March 31.

Following are the different state-owned or managed areas open to the public during the open hunting seasons:

SHOP TALK From other States

IOWA . . . Fish, amphibians, and reptiles from the Conservation Commission's fish and wildlife exhibit at the state fair have joined the fight against cancer. Commission employees have delivered about 25 specimens to the State University of Iowa for experimental research. Included were representatives of primitive fishdogfish, sturgeon, and eels—as well as turtles, frogs, and snakes. The specimens will become a part of a continuing study being made of different types of fish, birds, and mammals.

NORTH DAKOTA . . . The Game and Fish Department has these words of advice for antelope hunters: When transporting an antelope, do not place it on the hood of the car or in the closed trunk. The "trophy" hood mount makes a nice picture, but quickly spoils the meat. It is right over the hot engine. Carry the game on top of the car. Second choice would be on top of the trunk.

NEW HAMPSHIRE . . . There's always a chance you may be a hunting victim. The New Hampshire legislature took this into consideration when it passed a law requiring that the Fish and Game Department make space available on hunting and fishing licenses for indicating the licensee's blood type. The fellow who doesn't know what type blood is flowing through his veins doesn't need to worry, though. The insertion of this information is optional. In the event a hunter or angler is injured or wounded and needs a blood transfusion quickly, information is there for the physician to use.

OKLAHOMA ... If you want a buffalo—either alive or butchered-here's your chance. The Bureau of Sport Fisheries and Wildlife plans to sell 225 of the animals at the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge at Cache this year. Preference will be given to applicants who want live buffalo for propagation or exhibition. However, butchered animals, already dressed and quartered, will also be sold. Only buffalo that cannot be accomodated on available range at the refuge without danger of overgrazing will be sold.

NEW MEXICO ... A fisherman fishing with two poles at Bonita Lake recently was asked by Conservation Officer Marion Embrey whether he had ever read the regulations. He admitted he hadn't. While the officer was preparing a citation for fishing with two poles, there came a big tug on one of the poles, "My bad luck," said the fisherman, "I guess I'll have to let that one go." Just then the pole disappeared, dragged away by the fish. The officer knew when he was licked. For lack of evidence, he had to let the man go unprosecuted. "My good luck," said the fisherman, promising to read the regulations.

FLORIDA ... A refuge to protect the unique Key deer has come nearer to reality with the signing of an implementing Act by the President. This is the Act to "preserve the Key deer and other wildlife resources in the Florida Keys by the establishment of a National Key Deer Refuge in the State of Florida," according to the Wildlifee Management Institute. The signing successfully climaxes years of effort to get congressional approval of a wildlife refuge to protect the diminutive deer. Although the small deer have risen in number from a low point of 25 a few years ago to about 125, biologists have pointed out that the rapid alteration of natural habitat on the Keys by real estate development would mean the end of the unique animals unless steps were taken to preserve some of the area needed for their existence. Key deer occur in no other place in the world. Adults measure from 22 to 26 inches in height.

TEXAS . . . Biologist H. C. Hahn tells about a rat versus snake fight. The epic struggle took place about 26 miles south of Mason. Hahn was watching deer grazing when he glanced around to see a five-foot racer snake crawling up a mesquite tree with a squealing rat in its mouth. A second rat ran up the tree trunk and attacked the snake, biting it five or six times. The snake tried to cross to another limb with the rat still in its mouth but failed to make it. The rat on his back dug in deeper and hung on. Finally, the snake dropped the rat. The second rat turned the snake loose, jumped to the ground, and ran off with rat No. 1. The snake crawled down the tree trunk and disappeared in the opposite direction—still hungry. Length of battle, according to Hahn's watch, was just one minute.

WASHINGTON, D.C. . . . The use of electrical devices in taking migratory game birds will be prohibited during the 1957-58 hunting season, reports the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service. This will ban the use of recordings and amplifications of imitations of goose or duck calls produced by conventional calling devices. The deadly effectiveness of these electronic devices in calling ducks and geese to the hunters' guns and the potential threat of excessive kills which would deplete the resource brought about the Fish and Wildlife Service order. The standard penalties for the illegal taking of migratory game birds will apply. These penalties are a maximum of six months in jail, a maximum fine of $500, or both.

Notes on Nebraska Fauna

This is the 32nd of a series of ariicles and drawings depicting Nebraska wildlife. The article was written by Gordon Heebner, District III game supervisor, and the wash drawing by C. G. Pritchard. The Winter Issue will feature the yellow perch.

THERE are several species of game birds and mammals whose welfare and survival depend more on man's activities than on any other consideration. Some species, such as the heath hen and bison, have been exterminated or reduced to sanctuary remnants. Some have survived in the truly wild state, and among these is the prairie chicken or pinnated grouse. Its ultimate place in the scheme of modern living is still in doubt. It may be exterminated throughout its range, as was its eastern subspecies in the early part of this century, or it may adapt itself enough to remain in parts of its present range.

At one time hunting was a major factor effecting prairie chicken numbers. Now, however, it is a secondary mortality factor, even where it is legal, as in Nebraska. Farming and ranching have played the dominant roles in the great decline of the chicken, and continue to be the major limiting factors today.

The conversion of the tall-grass prairies to agriculture in the early 1900's dealt the telling blow to Nebraska's prairie chicken. This species was never able to return to these areas in its original numbers, despite complete protection and periods of abundant rainfall.

This decline continued until the mid-1930's, when probably the alltime low was reached. Prairie chickens had completely disappeared from most of their former range and only a sparse population existed over the remainder. Fortunately, however, some areas in the so-called tall-grass region had proven unadaptable to agricultural use, and it is here the bird is making what could be its last stand.

In these areas conservation measures, which reduced the overgrazing problem, and the return of abundant rainfall, combined to influence a noticeable increase in prairie chickens by 1940. Surveys conducted by the Game Commission indicated significant fluctuations in numbers, with population peaks in the early 1940's and again in 1952.

As its name indicates the prairie chicken is a chicken like bird about the size of a female pheasant. The color of the male is predominantly rufous-brown broken up by crossbarring over most of the body. Breast and belly are barred about evenly with brown and white. The brownish head has a slight crest and fleshy, orange-colored eyebrows. The sides of the neck have tufts of erectile, elongated, stiff, blackish feathers that are known as "pinnae," and hence the name pinnated grouse. Beneath each pinna is a loose sack of yellow-orange skin that is known as the air sac. The tail is short, round, and brown, and the legs are feathered to the toes.

The female is somewhat smaller than the male, and its pinnae are shorter. Her neck sacks are very small, and the orange-flesh colors are lacking on the neck and eyebrows.

The first sounds of a booming prairie chicken (cock) on a frosty morning is as sure an indicator of forthcoming spring to the residents of the Sandhills as is the return of the swallows to Capistrano. The courtship of these grouse in March, April, and May is unique among all other wildlife in the state. The number of cocks that gather on any particular area varies with the densities of the grouse population and the prevalence of suitable "booming-ground" sites. After arriving on these grounds a little before sunrise the cocks begin their strange courtship which usually lasts about two hours. They again arrive an hour or more before sunset and leave just after sunset.

The courtship performance is an individual one, even though there are many birds performing at once. There is little or no co-ordination of the acts, except that one bird may involve another as a protagonist. The act begins with a short run, ending with a quick stop. The cock then stamps his feet on the ground rapidly in one spot; while so doing he erects his pinnae and inflates his neck air sacs like small oranges. The tail is spread in an upright fan, the wings droop, and he makes a booming sound.

When a number of cocks are booming at the same time, the total effect is that of a hollow roar which can be heard for over a mile on a quiet day. When the cock has finished the air sacs are quickly deflated. The bird then utters a wild mixture of cacklings and may dash off toward another cock as though to chase him away. The reason for this act is to attract and impress the females.

The hens begin coming to the booming grounds in March. Their visits are short and their arrival is greeted by great activity by all the cocks. The hens though, pay them little heed. In early April they visit the grounds regularly and stay longer. The cocks continue to carry on in their respective territories and wait for the hen to make her choice.

Later, the female proceeds to lay a clutch of 10 to 12 eggs, at the rate of one per day, in a nest that is located in some sort of grassy area. Incubation takes about 23 or 24 days.

During the first few weeks, before the young have learned to fly, they spend most of their time in dense cover searching for insects and being brooded by their mother. When the chicks have become adept at flying, their diet begins to change from one of insects to grain and weed seeds, and the broods have a tendency to move to higher ground and particularly grain fields.

At about 8 to 12 weeks of age the broods begin to break up. By this time there has usually been some mortality from exposure, accidents, and predation, and as the chicks begin to depend more and more upon their own resources, the number lost to predation increases for a time. Those birds that survive soon learn to escape their enemies quite effectively.

By early fall the birds start flocking; those from a single brood may be in one or more flocks which commonly range from 10 to 20 birds in size. They frequent grain fields for feeding, and the grasslands, swales, and marshes for roosting. As the fall cover shrinks the flock's tend to enlarge to as many as 50 to 100 birds. The winter flocks concentrate on the remaining sources of food, and hence are readily seen at this time of the year.

Then as the snows begin to melt in February and March, the flocks begin to break up and the cocks start their sunrise serenade once again.

PHEASANT HANGOUTS

Groves and tree claims; draws and canyons; grassy sloughs; hedgerows; old stack yards; sorghum or cane fields; fenced farm-pond areas; wind-blown tumbleweeds and thistles; abandoned building sites; unplowed stubble; meadow edges; willow bottoms; shocked grain; lightly grazed prairie; straw stacks; ungrazed creek bends.