Were rc&oei. ^:^Kckm fo#OQ mb , W(xi ffixCo n|eton)^ M ^\pnoo,fe Touo6l^n;ap(€#v’e p T'rr^ %£W b ruwnq tf€fe ■ H(f ^ i? S5 °( c?#ai& flower aijoluhr tfe^oiir P* ao^ km t?onr (o^edtfain^rro I7P* Presented to the LIBRARY of the u RAMBLES OF A CANADIAN NATURALIST Whip-Poor-Will RAMBLES OF CANADIAN NATURALIST S T WOOD □ -COLOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY * ROBERT HOLMES * DECORATIVE HEADINGS BY * STUDENTS OF THE * ONTARIO COLLEGE OF ART Q v3 □ J. M. DENT & SONS LIMITED LONDON 1916 TORONTO CONTENTS An Opening Word The Spirit of Spring . The Skunk Cabbage The Pitcher Plant Birds of the Season Unappreciated Flowers Nature's Revival . A Suburban Ramble Diminutive Beavers The American Mergansers * The Awakening Year ♦ . The Voice of the Silence ♦ The Blood-root . ** Ya honk l Ya honk ! Ya honk l Sudden Summer ♦ ♦ % ♦ A Song of the Night . An Indolent River A Season of Growth ♦ As the Year Grows The Dandelion . * A Summer Resident The Night-hawk . Nature's Beneficence . Don't Pluck It . A Record of Time A Day in June . Melodrama and Tragedy An Unfortunate Mourning Dove The Life of a Moth . Popular Tyrants Spotted Sandpipers In a Sultry Swamp A Successful Pretender Below Niagara ♦ As they take their Flight . page i 3 6 8 ii 14 17 21 25 28 31 34 37 39 42 45 48 52 55 59 62 65 70 73 77 80 84 87 90 94 98 101 105 109 113 V VI CONTENTS The Great Northern Diver . The Powder Post Beetle A Floating Island Active Gleaners . Flocking Already! When the Swallows The Fascination of Light . The Canadian Mocking-Bird The Old Sport . A Migrating Butterfly The Great Blue Heron Flowers of the Season The Passing of Summer The Waning Year The Witch Hazel The Tussock Moth Epipactis Viridiflora . Departing Summer Visitors . Whip-Poor-Will Birds of Passage . The Haunt of the Coot A Lonely Wanderer The Autumn Panorama The Dead Leaves Fall Weather Prophets As the Year Passes Preparing for Spring . Early Winter Some Winter Visitors . Winter Buds Bittersweet .... Inspired by the Snow . An Evening Reveller ♦ The Great Horned Owl Muskrats . Last Day of Danger ♦ The Beach in Winter . Nature's Dreams . Index ..... page 116 120 123 126 130 133 136 139 142 145 149 152 155 158 161 165 169 172 176 179 182 185 188 191 194 198 201 204 207 211 214 217 220 223 226 330 333 236 243 Whip-Poor-Will . Frontispiece Bloodroot . Facing page 36 Promethea Moth . ♦ „ 90 Showy Lady’s Slipper . „ 100 Monarch Butterfly — King Billy . . „ 144 Winter^ Robin ...... „ 326 Vll RAMBLES OF A CANADIAN NATURALIST AN OPENING WORD Little straggling patches of shrubbery and lingering trees that hide timidly in the shadow of a great city, streams destined for imprisonment in long dungeons beneath the paved and crowded streets, marshes striving in richness of verdure to convert each year's decay into new and healthy life, all tempt the rambler to push his way about and linger over the intricate and changing panorama* The few miles that bound a morning's ramble seem so limited and circumscribing, and yet so vast — so crowded with an infinitude of nature's activities. Let us look, let us listen, let us breathe the enriched air. Myriad forms of the mystery of life crowd upon the senses made keen by the silence. Rambles merge imperceptibly into ramblings, and the little clumps of brushwood seem peopled with the wild things that have long since taken their departure to the secluded shades of the distant and retreating wilderness. This is not that blending of fact and fancy which 2 AN OPENING WORD pains the conscientious naturalist, but simply a mental assimilation of sights and sounds* What is seen and heard — things revealed to the eye and ear — may awaken a delighted interest, but our thoughts and fancies, stirred by what is partly revealed, have a deeper charm* Following these suburban rambles may yield the keen pleasure of observations verified* And perhaps in the wayward ramblings a community of fancy may be discovered more pleasant and more fraternal than the kindred joy of disclosing nature's guarded secrets* When the long, grey mornings of spring renew their invitation they cannot be denied* Snow lingers in secluded corners and frost is still in the ground, but spring is awaiting a welcome* Robins are house- hunting among the naked trees* Red-winged Black- birds are perching on the dead reeds, displaying their glossy uniforms and scarlet epaulets, or trying their shrill voices from the higher perches in the willows* The Song Sparrow is here, his familiar call an earnest of the new life awakening on every hand* The Blue- bird is displaying his finest colours, and seems tempted by his vanity to choose the open fields and solitary, leafless trees, where he can compel the admiration of all observers* The Fox Sparrow is shy and retiring, but his spring song brings a world of delight, although he is hidden in the thicket* The pussies on the Willow twigs are pushing their little grey noses from under their reddish brown hoods* The long catkins on the Alders are showing signs of 3 4 THE SPIRIT OF SPRING life* A broken Sassafras twig fills the air with one of the most delightful of forest odours* It is hard to resist the boyish impulse to cut a Maple and taste the sap* But it is no more tempting than the perfume of a growing twig of Black Birch, broken where the winter buds are swelling* Nature has been dreaming under the white mantle that has just been drawn aside* Moss is melting holes for itself through the ice* The Wintergreen is all about in profusion, carpeting the ground with rich green leaves, dotted here and there with bright red berries* It has defied the frost, the snow and the ice of winter, and now offers up its tempting berries, pleasant in flavour and odour as they are beautiful in colour and contrast* The Trailing Arbutus, too, has a vitality that defies the winter, and its green leaves are showing above the litter of last year's vegetation* Those who are robbing the suburban woods of this flower have a great sin to answer for, but the temptation also is so great that one cannot but forgive them* The flowers are already formed and the pinky white is protruding from the little green buds* In a day they will be opened, the sweet perfume leading to their destruction by revealing their hiding places under the dead leaves* The man or woman who can pass a Trailing Arbutus in flower and not pluck it is as near to perfection as it is possible for weak humanity to approach* Down by the swampy margin the ice is THE SPIRIT OF SPRING 5 receding from the shore, and the Watercress is there fresh and green, showing that the stream has been but dreaming all winter. The Skunk Cabbage, that beautiful and malodorous flower, is already raising its variegated hood from the black mud. It is deter- mined to be first among the wild flowers. On the shore there are some small Sassafras trees completely girdled at the ground and doomed to die. The Cotton- tail is at once suspected, which shows the evil of a bad name. But there are Muskrat houses suspiciously near, and many evidences of amphibious activity in the half-frozen mud. Have the Muskrats been guilty of these depredations < The multitude of tiny wounds show that the culprit was the little Shore Mouse with the formidable name, Arvicola riparius ♦ The leaves of the Hepatica are frozen solidly in the ice high up on the bank, but alive and well withal, and destined for a life of usefulness throughout the summer. What wonderful egotists we must have been to think the three-lobed leaf of the Hepatica was shaped to intimate that it could cure certain human ills. As if our little ills were sufficient to move the mighty indifference of nature ! The Hepatica is as indifferent to our petty needs as the Downy Woodpecker sounding his gong on the resonant oak limb or the Lordly Crow moving with steady strength across the colourless sky. 6 THE SKUNK CABBAGE Along the oozy margins of swampy streams, where spring seems to detach the sluggish ice from the softening mud, the Skunk Cabbage is boldly announc- ing nature's revival* Handsome, vigorous, and strong, richly coloured in purple, with delicate and sometimes obscure markings of yellow, it rises clean and unspotted from the weedy mud, a pointed, bulb- like flower as large as a lemon* Its twisted, oval contour and smooth - coloured surface suggest an overgrown shell* But its chief claim to recognition is its eagerness to greet the spring* In fact, it never waits for the reviving warmth, nor even for the inspiring spirit of the season of nature's renewal* In late autumn it rises from the black or mossy damp- ness to live safely under the snow and be first in spring's revival* The great, round bud sitting com- fortably on the thawing ooze or rising through the lifted ice is not only a promise of spring, but an assurance of nature's perpetual activity* The bulb -like flower is soon attended by an adjacent green cone, formed by a closely-folded leaf. But before the leaf develops, the handsome purple shell, which is thick and fleshy, withers and falls, THE SKUNK CABBAGE 7 revealing the enclosed spike on which the real seed- producing flowers are clustered ♦ The leaves develop later in the season, when they give some of the marshy hollows a distinctly tropical aspect* Large, oval, and pale green, often more than two feet in length, they rise from the buried root- stalks that bore the flowers in early spring* The Skunk Cabbage deserves its quite uncompli- mentary name, for even its devoted admirers, who seek it as the earliest of all the awakening flowers, feel constrained to apologise for the odour it exhales* It generally escapes the indiscriminate destroyers of flowers, for its attractive colours begin to fade before they are abroad* It chooses inaccessible places where the treacherous mud is a safe protection* Its odour, too, is a means of defence* And its great, fleshy, tropical richness and strong colouring seem quite disappointing when taken from their natural surroundings* Sometimes a rubber-booted boy is seen walking proudly through a swamp or along a footpath with the prise in his hand, carried by the invariably short stalk, and suggestive of the utility of fruit or vegetables rather than the ornamentation of flowers* The perennial root-stalk, deeply buried, insures the perpetuation of the Skunk Cabbage* And with each returning spring its favourite hiding- places will be sought by all who long for the earliest news of the great awakening* 8 THE PITCHER PLANT There is a human interest in this peculiar inhabitant of swamps and bogs* Its pitcher - like leaves, mysteriously full of water, graceful in form, and delicately marked with purple, red, and brown, its carnivorous habits, its round, rich, purple-red flowers nodding on their tall and solitary stalks, all serve to give it character and make a visit to its favourite haunts a memorable event* The sphagnum swamp which a utilitarian age would desecrate by transformation into briquettes of peat fuel, the swamp where the Pink Lady's Slipper grows, where the carnivorous Sundew is found, and the Pyrola and Lady's Tresses perfume the air, where the elastic, spongy carpet of moss is so yielding that a visitor feels impelled to keep on the move, while a heavy tread shakes the neighbouring Tamaracks — there is the home of the Pitcher Plant. The Pitchers are now thawing loose from the surrounding snow and ice, but the frozen water has not burst the yielding leaves* They will survive the early summer and sustain the flowers until a new set bursts through close to the roots, when the older Pitchers dry up and return to the swampy soil* These THE PITCHER PLANT 9 plants draw sustenance from many insects enticed into the Pitchers by their honeyed lips* Once inside, the venturesome invader is doomed, for the throat is armed with a formidable coating of sharp spines, pointing downward* These facilitate the descent, but make return to the open air impossible* The struggling victim, in his futile efforts, is caught on one of the sharp spines and thrown into the water, where he speedily succumbs, nourishing the plant that enticed him to his fate* The water in the Pitchers has a digestive effect, and the plant draws nutriment from the insects dissolved in it* But the resources of the insect world are infinite, and some diminutive visitors contrive to make of the threatening death-trap a comfortable dwelling* When a mass of undigested wings, legs, and armour plates of the invading insects accumulates in the bottom of a Pitcher an enterprising fly of the genus Sarcophaga finds in the refuse a suitable habitation for her coming brood* She enters without any trouble, deposits her eggs, and, by a strange dexterity, makes her escape again* When her young brood hatch out, the larvae feed on the accumulated remains, and in due time make their escape, regardless of the barbs that threaten to impale them* These sojourners are harmless and perhaps beneficial to the plant, but another tenant, a small moth, lives at the expense of her habitation* She goes 10 THE PITCHER PLANT in and out without the least difficulty and lays her eggs on the inside of the open lip, in free defiance of its array of concealed weapons* When the young larvae come out they feed on the inner lining of their Pitcher, working around with a delicacy and care that suggests a knowledge of their imminent danger* They eat away a ring of the inner surface, clearing off the dangerous spines that would throw them down into the water, and all the time spinning a carpet of silk to afford themselves a secure footing* After a while the weakened lip shrivels and collapses, thus making a comfortable habitation in which the young moths sleep through the pupa stage of their existence* They then emerge from the shrunken covering to seek in other Pitchers a home for the next generation* There is also an insect of the Hymenoptera order that makes a home in this charnel-house of her relatives* This enticing death-trap is found to be hospitable to at least three visitors from the insect world* Perhaps it is this natural blending of what we call good and what we call evil that awakens the deep human interest in the cluster of curved, open Pitchers nestling in the moss and trailing a few roots down to the unseen water* II BIRDS OF THE SEASON Early messengers of spring are all the more welcome through the season's wearying delay. The Robin we all know, for the city's vapours have no terrors for him. Sometimes he loiters quietly about all winter, showing himself occasionally to awaken delusive hopes of spring. The noisy, vigorous, and showy Jays remain through the winter, gathering food from many sources, and sometimes appealing to the kind- ness of suburban residents. Woodpeckers never desert us, and the Shrikes and Owls we have always with us. The hasty Snowbirds seek the open spaces in irregular flocks, searching for scattered seeds on the black ridges of naked earth. But when the timidly confiding Bluebird displays his rich colours in the suburban orchards and fields it is a material sign that the spirit of spring is in the air, A pair found their way to a favoured valley recently, and sought out the most tempting southern slope, where the high, curving bank tried to concentrate and retain the rays of the afternoon sun. There were patches of naked earth, where the atmosphere quivered with the reviving warmth and blurred the outline of the open shrubbery in the close background. The 12 BIRDS OF THE SEASON melting snows revealed the litter of the past season's vegetation* The uncovered ground was thawing in exposed places ; and the root leaves of the Asters showed bright and green under the receding edges of the icy covering* But this did not seem a satisfying assurance of spring to the new arrivals* They perched restlessly on the dead Mullen stalks, and flew timidly back and forth among the entangled thickets of Oak and Hawthorn* The rich blue of their plumage contrasted alternately with the broad expanse of snow and the patches of naked ground on the hillside* Bright sun- light deepened the dull red of their breasts* The spirit of spring seemed struggling for recognition, but they would not respond with a single note* The sun beamed on them, and traced distinct shadows on the darling snow, but they refused the slightest responsive sound* A whistled call they treated with absolute indifference* Evidently their day of song was away in the future* But, silent and dissatisfied, they were still welcome, and fancy supplied the song that will be heard in the suburban orchards and along the country roads when the season fulfills its mission* More responsive is the Horned Lark, for he often remains throughout the winter* His vocal notes may be heard as he makes his undulating way over the snow-covered fields* Like the Bluebird, he is midway in size between the Sparrow and the Robin, but BIRDS OF THE SEASON 13 the colours, seen as he runs persistently along the ground in front of an intruder, are uniformly dull and grey* He is lighter on the breast, with pale yellow and black toward the neck, and the small projecting points of feathers over his eyes have given him his name* The black tail is a conspicuous mark of identification for both males and females* The Horned Lark nests on the ground, sometimes even choosing a sheltered spot on the roadside* In spite of this open confidence, and his apparent indifference, at a respectful distance, he does not become, like the Bluebird, tolerant of familiarity on longer acquaint- ance* His suspicions can never be set at rest, and when he runs ahead along the ground no seductive coaxing can induce him to permit a nearer approach* But he calls so early in the spring and attends so willingly to his own affairs that he can be forgiven for even the deplorable offence of suspicion* i4 UNAPPECIATED FLOWERS While the obdurate frost still holds the bulbs and roots of early flowers in its rigid grasp, many trees seem determined to respond to the promptings of the season* In and about the city the flower buds of the Soft Maple are freely opening and studding the intricacy of twigs with bristling tufts and bunches* Where the tracery of small branches was free and open a few days ago the view is now obstructed by the accumulation of small, unappreciated flowers* But they are real flowers, and that brings them into fellowship with the season of awakening life* Flowers are associated in our minds with the richest textures, and with colours surpassing fancy in their effulgence and delicacy* But the sturdy branches overhead have a floral richness of their own, modest and unadorned, yet claiming a place in the scheme of perpetual trans- mission. In spite of the forbidding aspect of the season, the Soft Maple flowers have already unfolded, the more vigorous and eager male trees defying the chilling reception of lingering snow* The female trees are more reluctant and hesitating, content to come forth only in the most favoured localities* This exclusive arrangement is by no means universal with UNAPPRECIATED FLOWERS i5 the Soft Maples, for the male and female flowers are sometimes seen on adjacent branches of the same tree* And on rare occasions a little bunch of co-eds will appear, surrounded on all sides by their vigorous, crowding brothers* Although these Maples scatter their seeds and germinate before summer dries the ground, the bud scales strewn about do not indicate that the flowers have fulfilled their mission* Early birds have missed the delicacies usually provided by the season, and have turned in their extremity to the unpalatable buds* Elm flowers are also opening in favoured localities* They are shy blossoms, and, like some of the most elusive warblers of summer, prefer to remain partly hidden in the tops* There the swollen buds are now visible against the cold grey sky, and occasionally on a more ambitious limb the rough, uneven clusters show where the flowers have actually unfolded* If their delicate stigmas do not succumb to the cold they will soon be strewing the ground with round- winged seeds* Alders by the suburban streams are bringing a far different variety of floral offerings* The rigid catkins that were as hard and lifeless as thorns through the winter seem suddenly to have thawed out with the return of spring* They have become large, loose, elongated, and flexible, and as they sway about with every passing wind, the bright, yellow pollen shakes i6 UNAPPRECIATED FLOWERS out from a multitude of openings in their sides ♦ The pussies on the Willows have come out confidingly in many places, but seem to have been chilled and dis- couraged by the lingering winter* These, too, are flowers, greeting the returning sunshine with all the eagerness of new life* In a short time the male and female trees will be easily distinguished as the catkins turn yellow or red* And as the season advances and the yellow catkins fall to the ground, the fertile trees will bear bundles of diminutive pods, bursting with the airy, cottony wings that carry the seed away on the passing breeze* The spirit of new life among the flowering trees is struggling in the tenacious hold of winter, and sympathetic nature feels already the thrill of its certain emancipation* The spirit of spring is in the air* Not the hopefully delusive promise so often overshadowed by delays and disappointments, but the real spirit that breathes life to all animated Nature* There is something universally contagious in the awaken- ing of Nature* The piping call of a Robin, or even the silent opening of a bud, awakens the insistent thrill of fellowship in the mystery of life* The solitary messengers of a week ago have been followed by advancing flocks, and some have already assumed their old aspect of familiarity* Robins are hurrying up the valleys and over the adjacent hills, active and energetic, but obdurately silent* Fences, trees, and shrubbery, roads, lanes, and open fields — every available resting place is tried in impatient succession, but through the active communal life of the new arrivals there is an uneasy suspicion of human intruders* The com- munism of the gathering flocks will soon be lost in 17 B i8 NATURE'S REVIVAL the song of the builders as they prepare their several domestic establishments* We regret the departure of the Robins, when great flocks assemble in the suburban woods* But their southern journey- ing absolves them from the taint of continuous domestication* A scattered community of Bluebirds has appeared close to the city, moving about with a quiet com- placency that befits their rich attire* Unlike the Robins, they do not crowd together and follow a restless leader, still they keep within easy call* Familiar habitations of last year in orchards and woods, abandoned excavations of the woodpeckers, hollow branches and decayed trunks, all are sought again by the quiet stragglers* Their call is the voice of spring, but they linger, reluctant to desert the flock* Horned Larks gather in flocks, feeding where the snow has melted from the strewn fields* Enticing notes are in the air, and already the successful wooers are separating from the flock with their mates, and seeking convenient nesting-places on the exposed ground* The Horned Lark is a model of domestic attention, and his bright, ecstatic song, as he circles and rises above his hidden mate, often reveals the carefully located nest* There are other spring voices in the air* A Purple Finch announces his arrival from a sheltered perch, and a Kildeer cries from the sandy shore by the NATURE'S REVIVAL 19 marsh* This returning wanderer should be welcomed for the great range of his travels* Not content with seeking a comfortable climate for the winter, his restless spirit impels him to go on southward through Mexico and along the isthmus into South America, and across the equator to where the months of northern winter bring a rising temperature* The insatiable energy shown in his swift, eager run along the shore, his cries of alarm when taking wing, his unending calls and sustained flights reveal the spirit that prompts his long southern journey* Spring recalls the peculiar ways of our migrating visitors* We have some that travel in an indifferent way, varying their habits with the season's tempera- ture* They merely grow less numerous toward the north in winter, while appearing in greater numbers in the warmer sone* Excessively cold winters bring down the Purple and Evening Grosbeaks, the Canada Jay, and Snowy Owl from their northern retreats* Some, like the Robin, leave an occasional straggler behind all winter, while the majority spend the season in the Southern States* There are Plover that go to the extreme limit of Patagonia, returning in response to the same strange impulse to breed within the arctic circle* There are Waders that migrate with a regularity that would suggest a personally conducted tour or some kind of systematic organisation* Some aquatic birds have very irregular habits, depending 20 NATURE'S REVIVAL largely on the accidents of a food supply. But the returning pilgrims are always welcome. The spirit of nature's renewing is in their voices. The joy that thrills in an endless multitude of tones proclaims the universal fellowship and kinship of life. 21 A SUBURBAN RAMBLE The call of spring is irresistible* Many who never see the snow-laden Spruces and naked Maples fixed in the crystalline atmosphere of winter, when silence broods over nature's white coverlet and her sleep is undisturbed, awake with the call of the Crows and the happy greetings of the Robins to a knowledge of the great out-of-doors* Suburban ravines and wooded spots that escape destruction in the shadow of the city welcome again the eager visitors, happy in effecting a momentary escape from noise and turmoil* Robins are happily announcing their hopes and prospects* Crows are passing overhead with steady flight, heralding the arrival of spring, or alighting to discuss prospective domestic affairs* A Downy Woodpecker pounds on a resonant limb, as if his scarlet crest and mottled wings were not enough without boasting his industry to the coy little bunch of feathers beyond the Cedars* The Song Sparrow is everywhere* He comes more than half-way to greet the suburban wanderer* When the Thrushes come we will sympathise with their coyness and subtler melodies, but for the strong and virile spring we must have the Song Sparrow, perched on the highest 22 A SUBURBAN RAMBLE branch he can find, looking up into the sunshine and pouring out the ecstasy of a glad heart* Though abundant everywhere and profuse with his melody the Song Sparrow is always welcome as the spring. No other songster so well interprets the spirit of the season. Some less familiar visitors are active in the suburban brushwood. The Junco, dull and darkly grey, is yet conspicuous among the naked branches. He is singing now, and his low warble has the charm of rarity, though but a modest musical performance. The Junco's light brown beak seems an odd contrast with his dull colours, and he makes an enlivening display of white feathers as he flits into the Ever- greens. Nuthatches are creeping about on the Oaks, picking out the cocoons that are ready to awaken with the returning warmth — the brightest of the winter residents, who draw near in pity with the advent of spring. Among the scattered decay of the past year there is abundant evidence of nature's foresight. The ground leaves of the Asters have sustained their vitality under the snow through the long frosts, and are showing signs of renewed youth. The Winter- green has not even condescended to droop a leaf or stem, and its scarlet berries are shown in contrast against its rich green leaves. The Pipsissewa is also strong and erect, as bright as its melodious Indian A SUBURBAN RAMBLE 23 name. The Hepaticas come out as if they had enjoyed the winter. Their characteristic leaves are full of vitality, although their stems may droop. And in the centre among the stems the rising woolly bunches are reaching up, preparing to unfold the delicate flowers already impatient for the early sun. The Trailing Arbutus is still more eager, though advancing more quietly under the dead Oak leaves. Where an occasional leaf shows only a hard vitality, a careful search close to the moist ground will disclose flowers already open, showing delicate white and pink and enriching the air with perfume. Rich red patches on the Silver Birch show where vandals have robbed the trees of their beauty. The sublime egotism of the human name, at which the greatest of all egotists in modern literature marvelled, is seen in the initial letters with which the bark is defaced. More stirring to the fancy is a cabalistic design cut with care and regularity in the white bark. It is not the insignia of any secret order, inscribed in the enthusiastic faith of a neophyte. There is no clue to the intent or purpose of the strange marks. They are hidden away in the loneliest spot, in contrast with the conspicuously displayed initials. Fancy and speculation are dampened by the multi- plicity of influences that prompt humanity to action. In the nibbled bark of a broken limb we see where the Field Mice, driven from home by the recent floods, 24 A SUBURBAN RAMBLE have been forced to live on coarser food* Holes drilled by a Woodpecker in search of insect food are of obvious purpose* Throughout all the activities of the lower orders we see the regular sequence of cause and effect* In the distant forest a mark on a tree will show where a deer has rubbed the withered velvet from his horns* But who would attempt to fathom the multitudinous impulses that have prompted a lonely wayfarer to carve with evident care a peculiar design on a Silver Birch in the most secluded hollow of the suburban woods i The drawing of winter's curtain always reveals a multitude of silent activities* Nature has not been dead nor yet sleeping, but has been quietly active through the long months of snow* The root leaves of Asters and Goldenrods are green and vigorous* The Evening Primrose has withstood the frost* The Dandelion is green with promise* All the evergreens are awaiting a welcome* But the revelations of animal activity are far more interesting* Ramified burrows of the little Field Mice and Shore Mice are still preserved in the melting masses of icy snow lingering in shaded hollows* These little fellows are not really Mice, but they are so diminutive that it seems ridiculous to call them by the aggressive name “ Arvicola*” They are closely related to the Beaver, and during the long winter have made an unusual attempt to imitate the ways of their big, industrious cousin* They have not been content, as usual, with girdling the small trees under the snow* In many places they have cut down shrubs as thick as the 25 26 DIMINUTIVE BEAVERS finger and cut them up into irregular lengths, as if contemplating the construction of a dam* The destructive industry revealed by the melting snow is phenomenal* The Sassafras has been one of the chief sufferers, its aromatic bark being a special temptation to the little marauders* Many promising young trees are completely girdled, and the deep abrasions extend in irregular patches up their trunks to the winter snow line* These mutilations show countless diminutive tooth-marks and tell of the voracious energy of the tireless rodents* They have not been content with gnawing at the odorous bark of the Sassafras* The white wood of the Alder shows in irregular girdling patches, contrasting with the smooth black bark* The Sumach, too, an unusual article of diet, has served for much feasting under the snow* The smaller branches, buried within reach, have been cut up into irregular short lengths and lie about in careless piles* All the bark has been eaten from these little logs, and the wood is often gnawed away to the soft pith* Where the piles lie in the dead grass there are well-preserved remains of comfortable nests under the snow, and regular runways are still clearly marked in the frozen ground* The Wild Raspberry is a still more unusual article of diet, and suggests a world of trouble over the problem of a food supply during the long winter* Many of the bushes have been cut down, and the bark and even DIMINUTIVE BEAVERS 27 the thorns freely eaten ♦ The branches selected have been cut into lengths of two or three inches, and each heap shows the location of a permanent camp. The long winter has been a severe trial for the little world out of doors ; and the debris of so much industry naturally prompts a feeling of pity for the workers struggling with the problem of problems. But sympathy is generally misplaced. It may be that the great depth of snow was an assurance of safety and comfort, allowing them to remain quietly in their little camps while the great barking and sniffing disturbers rushed noisily over their heads. An energetic dog, running about on the snow, can keep a whole multitude of these rodents on the move in their burrows. The permanent camps of the past winter may reveal a season of exceptional comfort and leisure, with no intrusion from the meddlesome world that moves in the daylight above the snow. 28 THE AMERICAN MERGANSERS There is a steady purpose and untiring energy in the flight of Wild Ducks, whether they move in dotted alignment against the distant sky or stare in suspicion as they pass low, with straightened necks and stiff rapid wings ♦ Their full, heavy bodies and small, pointed wings make flight a serious effort, quite unlike the indolent soarings of the Gulls, the steady undulations of the Herons, or the restless irregularity of the inhabitants of the woods. They freely range the continent from the arctic shores to the tropics, making homes, according to their varied inclinations, on the rocky shores, in the concealing marshes, in trees, by hidden streams, and on the open prairie. Most conspicuous in this varied family are the American Mergansers, and a small detachment have already arrived in search of summer quarters. Their narrow-toothed bills indicate a fish diet, and this has saved them from pursuit, but the conspicuous beauty of their plumage and the graceful curves of their changing attitudes are temptations to the predatory. They swim about the edges of the weakening ice, their red bills reflecting rich tints in the sunlight, their heads of dark metallic green glistening like THE AMERICAN MERGANSERS 29 burnished metal, and the creamy white of their long necks and full shoulders showing in varying outlines* Such a profusion of white in the bright glow of a lengthening day is a conspicuous reminder of the return of spring. The leader of this small advance guard was attended by two sombrely attired females following faithfully in close alignment. He looked suspiciously at the open water in the marsh, where many noisy Gulls had congregated, but was not inclined to alight. As he turned toward the open water of the lake, passing low over the sandbar, the faint red glow of his breast seemed a reflection from the sun's rays struggling through the clouds rather than an actual tint in the shield of white. Out over the lake the rapidly diminishing forms of the trio showed the speed of their retreat, but their course was a great circle, which brought them again to the open water of the bay* The detour had given them confidence, for they settled easily to the surface, checking their speed with expanded wing and trailing, splashing feet. There must be concerted action or a wide response to local attraction among the migrants. The three were scarcely settled in the water when three more, all males in full plumage, came along the eastern shore line in earnest haste. With scarcely a hesitating curve they pitched down beside the earlier arrivals. These Mergansers are uncertain migrants, and seem more 30 THE AMERICAN MERGANSERS eager for safety than for the remoteness of the north* They have been known to nest about the big lake in happier times, and they still find safe concealment on some of the sheltered rocky shores of the inland waters* In early spring, when the lingering ice gives an aspect of contrast and relief to the life of the awakening year, these graceful swimmers in rich and full plumage appeal for respite in the eager work of destruction* 3i THE AWAKENING YEAR The darting and hilariously erratic flight of the Swallows is an assurance that spring is really awake. Other arrivals have promised and predicted, but the Swallows have made an actual announcement. The Meadow Lark, with sweetly modulated whistle, has announced the good news from the south, and has tip-toed in the stubble, displaying his yellow breast. The Flicker has cackled his loud and long alarm, and the Robin has varied his noisy piping with sweet and restful melody. The Bluebird has chirped in mild exhilaration, and the Blackbird with scarlet epaulets has brought life back to the withered marsh with his keen-edged, penetrating call. The melody of the Song Sparrow has overflowed everywhere in rich abundance, and the Vesper Sparrow has followed to take possession of the fields. All these are promises and forecasts, and they have been strengthened and supported by renewed activity on the part of the Juncoes, Downy Woodpeckers, Brown Creepers, Nuthatches, Kinglets, and other hardy winter residents. But the real announcement of the actual awakening is the darting flight of the light and swift- winged gleaners from the air. 32 THE AWAKENING YEAR The high bluffs of clay and sand, with their happily preserved but threatened fringe of woods, seem to attract the early arrivals among the Swallows and Flycatchers* Perhaps it is there that the lengthening rounds of the slowly mounting sun have greatest force in prompting an early awakening of the ephemeral life on which these sojourners must subsist* Where the absorbent sand dries the surface and the still air grows warm and quivers under the steady glow of sunshine, the insect life awakens from its strange torpor* This response to the new invitation is revealed by the daring swallows pursuing the multitudinous population of the air over the warming fields beside the fringe of woods* These new arrivals are the pioneers of the coming migration. Two Barn Swallows, the most beautiful of the family, display their glossy steel-blue mantles in the sun, their long and deeply forked tails bending gracefully as they chase their invisible prey* Their reddish breasts make a contrast to the white breast of the one Tree Swallow that accompanies them* His blue-green mantle shines like burnished steel with every curve and turn, but even in the distance his shorter and less deeply forked tail distinguishes him from his com- panions* All the birds of day respond to the sunshine, which seems to multiply their numbers, for they remain unseen on their quiet perches when the sun is hidden by discouraging clouds* These swallows, THE AWAKENING YEAR 33 joying and glorying in the sun that is sustaining the hope of their long southern vacation, make the welcome announcement that the air at last is filled with the swarming life that responds to renewing influence of the sun* c 34 THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE In the city kindly nature dulls the hearing, that an infinite medley of jarring noises cannot torture and distract the long-term prisoners beyond the bounds of endurance. The great jumble becomes inaudible, like the roar of Niagara to dwellers in its vicinity. But once beyond the screaming of trolleys, the pulsating thunder of locomotives, and the sub- dued din of industrial life, the senses awaken and the many voices of the woods grow distinct. Although every bird-call blends naturally and harmoniously with its surroundings, it comes clearly to the ear, bringing a message of conscious life, separate and distinct, but still a part of an all-pervading, har- monious sound. The spirit of growth is in the air. Do we hear the rustle of its countless vibrations newly-awakened or only feel the throbbing energy of its presence i Perhaps it steals upon us through senses far more subtle and mysterious. The silent Robin on the naked limb seems listening to the sap surging through the solid trunk beside him. But along comes a Sap-sucker with spasmodic flight and dispels the delusion by going to work in a most methodical way. His membership in the Wood- THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE 35 pecker family is apparent, but instead of seeking a dead trunk for wood-borers he digs for the sap in a healthy, vigorous limb* Perhaps he uses the sap to tempt insects* There he plies his noisy trade, while the inconceivable power that forces the juice through the solid fibre of the wood is exerted in perfect silence* Not even the Robin's ear, said to discern the moving of an angleworm, can detect the sound of the flowing sap* Put an ear to the trunk and listen, for the close, attentive effort makes the sound of surrounding growth discernible* There are blended tones that serve as a grey, indistinct background for the rapping of the Woodpecker signalling to his mate or pursuing his unromantic vocation, for the twittering of the acrobatic Nuthatch, or the almost inaudible plaint of the Wood Pewee* There seems a mysterious sound in the silence, and it may not be altogether fanciful to regard it as the sound of growth* On the Soft Maple thousands of buds are opening, and their strong scales are not turned back without the jarring of minute resistance* Is it really the ear that discerns a many-toned rustle i Some of the scales and buds are already dropping to the ground, heavy with the saturating shower* The Elm buds, too, are bursting open, and making their activity felt or heard, and the elongated catkins on the Willows are throwing off the coverings that sheltered them through the winter* 36 THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE Hard scales on the Dogwood buds are starting and yielding reluctantly to the swelling pressure ♦ The enfolded vegetation that lay dormant through the winter is awakening to life and throwing aside its manifold coverings ♦ A thousand closely and com- pactly wrapped cones of leaves are forcing their way upward to the moist air, cracking and bursting the unyielding earth and pushing all obstructions out of their way* These myriad perforations can scarcely be made without an audible disturbance, especially in the spring, when even deliberate growth is impelled to haste by the spirit of renewing life* The sound of growth cannot be entirely a delusion* Growth itself may be absolutely silent* But the slow crowding aside of myriads of obstructions, the perforation and disturbance of last year's leaves, the cracking and opening of hardened bark, with the enlarging layers of new vegetation, the bursting of inelastic scales and husks — all these unite in a blended rustle of reviving life, through which the faintest squeak of the Brown Creeper or the twitter of a Kinglet comes clear and distinct* Listen ! . (o#Dtf roab; pfMfe roui)o#n;apl€^ %>apb raojiuj % H 1o& op Onaoa