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FOR THE PEOPLE

FOR EDVCATION

FOR SCIENCE

LIBRARY

OF

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM

OF

NATURAL HISTORY

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1 I M, /, I, Y

THE

AUDUBON MAGAZINE

%

PUBLISHED IN THE INTERESTS OF

THE AUDUBON SOCIETY

FOR THE

Protection of Birds.

VOLUME II.

February, 1888, to January. 1889.

NEW YORK:
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY.

,. .^//4^4— //

Copyrighted, 1888.
Forest and Stream Publishing Company.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF BIRDS.

Page

Green Woodpecker 2

Rusty Crackles 24

Mockingbird 46

Night Heron 68

Black and White Warbler 90

Crow 112

PiLEATED Woodpecker 134

Towhee Bunting 156

Fork-Tailed Flycatcher 178

Kingbird 200

Stork 211

Tufted Titmouse 222

Hermit Thrush 244

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON.

Audubonian Sketches 3

Audubon Monument 56, 86, 127, 263

A Visit to Audubon's Home 151

ALEXANDER WILSON.

Biography of Wilson 93, 116, 137, 159, 181, 204, 225, 247

Alexander Wilson's Grave 251

OBITUARY NOTICES.

Spencer F. Baird 27

Henry Bergh 72

DESCRIPTIVE ORNITHOLOGY.

Rusty Crackles 25

Mockingbird 47

iv Contents.

Page

Night Heron 69

Black and White Warbler, 91

Crow 113

PiLEATED Woodpecker 135

TowiiEE Bunting 157

Fork-Tailed Flycatcher 179

Kingbird 201

Tufted Titmouse 223

Hermit Thrush 245

Hints to Audubon Workers 6, 34, 49

Slate-Colored Junco 6

Snowbird 6

Bluejay 6

Crossbills S

Snow Bunting 34

Snow Flake 34

Hairy Woodpecker 35

Downy Woodpecker 37

White-Bellied Nuthatch 39

BIRD STORIES AND BIRD CHAT.

The English Sparrow Discussed 15, 64

A Family on My Hands 18

Houses to Let 31

The Gnatcatcher's Stratec;v 40

An Accomplished Bluejay 42

Clouds of Birds 43

Two Little Captives 58

Helpless Pets 60

By Albatross Mail 6r

Bird Histories 62, 82, 105

A Crossbill in Mid Ocean 62

Birds at the Bath 71

City Birds

How I Learned to Love and not to Kill.

75
79

A Plea for Our Birds 83

Some Characteristic Birds 85, 95, 139, 168

Mr. De Young's Seagulls 87

Bluebird Dick 102

Crow and Anti Crow 108

Among the Birds in Texas.

109

The Mockingbird and the Sparrow log

Birds of the Primeval World 118, 140

Birds on the Increase 126

Contents. . v

Page

Wrens in a Coffee Pot i_|8

Robin Lothario 152

Swallows at Sea 153

Bird Legends 161, 196, 239, 259

Arkansas Bird Notes i6g

Shore Birds 171

Clever Birds " 17^

Predatory Birds iy5

The Song Sparrow ig3

Notes from Pennsylvania ig^^ 263

A Duck in a Chimney igy

The Stork 209

An Intelligent Crow 218

A Wayward Pet Robin 218

Bird Strategy.- 218

Albino Bobolink. 219

Loon in Captivity 219

The Wounded Redstart 228

The Birds of Prinkipo Island 23S

Our Winter Birds 249

Mississippi Valley Bird Migration 257

AUDUBON SOCIETY.

The Audubon Note Book 20, 42, 64, 86, 108, 126, 152, 174, 197, 218, 240, 262

A Story of the Imagination _ . , 21

Discontinuance of the "Audubon Magazine" 262

TALES AND SKETCHES.

Charley's Wonderful Journeys 12, 53, 100, 142, 184, 232, 254

Queen Honey Dew 163

The Dog and the Umbrella 42

Then and Now 43

Two Little Captives 58

Helpless Pets 60

Gold Beauty 125

MISCELLANEOUS.

A Curious Floating Island 43

Ornithologists vs. Collectors 20

A Young Ornithologist 21

Clouds of Birds 42

Saving the Tree 64

Genreal Spinner and the English Sparrow 64

Preservation of the Yellowstone Park 65

vi Contents.

Page

For the Protection of Small Birds 86

Nests 86

Audubon Work among the Indians 87

The White Ant g6

Unusual Nesting Sites 106

Birds in Disguise 107, 151

Warren's Ledger 108

No More Birds on Bonnets 108

Seals, Sea Lions, Sea Gulls 109

The Mockingbird and the Sparrow 109

Birds on the Increase 126

The Poet's Appeal 126

The ' ' Magazine " as an Educator 1 26

A Trip to the Yosemite Valley 150

Song of the Whippoorwill 152

A True Incident 153

Swallows at Sea 153

Bird Language i-j^

Man's Dependance on the Lower Animals igo

Re-introduction of Feather Millinery 207

Sketches of Montana.

•14

Report of Dr. Merriam 237

Bird Portraits 240

Letter to the Young Members of the Audubon Society 240

Eva's Equestrianism 252

Mississippi Valley Bird Migration.

257

English Press on Feather Millinery 264

Discontinuance 262

r

1

A GREEN WOODPECKER.

ANOTHER OF THE EARLY DRAWINGS OF AUDUBON.

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

FEBRUARY, 1888.

No. I.

AUDUBONIAN SKETCHES.

SHORTLY after my articles appeared
in The Auk, I was favored with a very-
kind letter from Mr. John Henry Gurney,
pere, of Northrepps, Norwich, England, who
presented me with a fine and large photo-
graph of Audubon, taken from the famous
oil painting which hangs in the palace at
St. Petersburg, Russia. This painting was
evidently copied from a photograph of
Audubon, the original of which latter is now
in my possession, it having been presented
to me with the utmost generosity by Mr.
Henry K. Coale, of Chicago, the President
of the Ridgway Ornithological Club of that
city.

The original photograph is now before
me, and I should judge from it that Audu-
bon at the time it was taken must have been
considerably over fifty years of age, as his
hair is nearly white, while his side-whiskers
are entirely so. He wears a loose, semi-
standing shirt collar to that garment, with-
out any necktie. His black silk vest is un-
buttoned half-way down from the top, and
his coat is of the old-fashioned black broad-
cloth style, so commonly worn in his day
by gentlemen, and especially by savants,
advanced in years. He looks grandly out
of the picture here, and the fine old face is
one we can dwell upon for a long time with-
out tiring, and our interest is sure to come
back to us, as fresh as ever, when we regard
the features. It is my intention at present

to have an enlarged portrait made from this
photograph some day. Mr. Coale tells me
that this picture was presented to Dr. J. W.
Velie by Mrs. Audubon herself, and Dr.
Velie gave it to Mr. Coale.

I have a copy of the naturalist's life, writ-
ten by his widow from his journal, which he
kept up with more or less fullness during his
rambles and journeys. It seems to me I
have read the book through as many as a
dozen times, and I am sure I am by no means
through with it yet. We all know the little
work, and revere it. Sometimes, however,
we find little snatches here and there which
Mrs. Audubon did not record, as they are
the observations of others. Mr. Coale has
collected and given me a few of these relics,
mostly from periodicals and newspapers.
One is a reprint, made by himself, from
"Gleason's Pictorial," (Vol. HI., No. 13,
p. 196) and a very quaint old account it is,
too, being illustrated by a coarse woodcut
of Audubon, when I should say he was about
thirty-three or thirty-four years of age.

Another account is published in a Chicago
newspaper in August, 1876, by a gentleman
living in Henderson, Ky. This writer tells
us that, "As near as we can learn, Mr. Au-
dubon moved to the Red Banks, or Hen-
derson, about the year 1810 or 181 2. He
married Miss Louise [Lucy] Bakewell, of
Louisville, who bore him two sons. Mrs.
Audubon and the two sons accompanied

Audubonzan Sketches.

Mr. Audubon to his new home, and they
all lived here until about the year 1822 or
1823. He was a Frenchman, and possessed
of all the energy, fire and vim so character-
istic of the French people, he soon embarked
in business. His first enterprise was to open
a grocery and dry-goods store in a little
one-story log house which stood upon the
corner of Main and First streets. He lived
with his family in a little one-story brick
building just in the rear of where the Odd-
Fellows* Building now stands. Just where
the Post Office is now located was a pond,
in which he used to catch one or more
turtles every day, which he used in making
into his favorite dish, turtle soup. Shortly
after this he operated a very large corn and
flour mill at the foot of Second street. This
mill was of very large capacity for those
days; in fact, it would be regarded as of
very respectable size these times. In this
mill, upon the smooth surface of timbers,
were to be found the most life-like paint-
ings of birds, fowls and animals of every
description which inhabited this country at
that time. Mr. William T. Barrett has now,
it is said, the first painting Audubon ever
made of the woodpecker. The bird is rep-
resented as sitting upon the limb of an
old tree, and listening to the familiar call of
its partner. So perfect is the picture that
persons have frequently mistaken it for a
genuine stuffed bird.

"While Mr. Audubon was engaged in the
milling business, it was his custom to bathe
in the Ohio. This he continued until he
became the most noted of all the swimmers
who indulged in that delightful pastime.
It is said of him that when the first steam-
boat landed at the town some of her machin-
ery had become disarranged, and the boat
had to remain here for several hours making
necessary repairs. As might be expected
upon so extraordinary an occasion as this,
the people turned out en masse to see some-
thing new under the sun — the steamboat.
A number of country visitors imagined the

thing had life in it. Mr. Audubon and
other citizens were among the visitors, and
during the time they were on board con-
cluded they would indulge in their favorite
amusement — swimming. They undressed
and began to dive from the side of the ves-
sel. Several members of the swimming
party made successful dives from the inside
of the vessel next to the bank, coming up
on the outside. This was regarded as won-
derful. Mr. Audubon walked to the bow
of the boat, sprang into the river, and, after
some time had elapsed, made his appear-
ance below the stern, having gone clean
under from one end to the other. This
feat was regarded by all who witnessed it
as a most remarkable and dangerous under-
taking, and he was awarded the greatest
praise for this unequaled performance. It
is said he did this several times during
the time the boat lay at the bank. Mrs.
Audubon was also a great swimmer. Mr.
H. E. Rouse told us that he had frequently
seen her go into the river at the foot of
First street and swim to the Indiana shore.
She dressed in a regular swimming costume,
and was regarded by all who knew her as
the next best to her husband, if not his
equal.

"During Mr. Audubon's life in Hender-
son, he pursued the study of ornithology,
frequently going to the woods and remain-
ing there for two or three months at a visit.
Upon one occasion he followed a hawk pe-
culiar to this country, and so anxious was
he to become the possessor of this bird, he
pursued it for two or three days, finally suc-
ceeding in killing it. He was never known
to stop for streams of any kind; he would
swim rivers or creeks in pursuit of any game
or bird he might be in search of. At one
time he watched a flicker, or what is com-
monly known as a yellow-hammer, until he
saw it go into a hole at the top of an old
tree. He immediately climbed the tree and,
running his hand into the hole to get the
bird, caught hold of a huge black snake.

Audubonian Sketches.

Pulling it out of the hole, and seeing what
it was, he immediately let go, and he and
the snake both fell to the ground. Mr. Au-
dubon used to tell this story, with a good
deal of humor, to the many who often won-
dered at the great risk he would take in
pursuit of this great study."

When I was a child in arms, my father
had his home on Washington Heights; and
here the Audubons lived in the very house

MRS. J. J. AUDUBON.

next door to us, where my mother and her
sister knew them all intimately.

It was thus that I came in possession of
a number of very valuable Audubonian re-
lics. These now consist chiefly of a letter
of the naturalist, given me by his wife a
short time before she died, she having done
me the honor of having written my name
across the end of it with her own hand. It
was the last one she had in her possession,
and as it is directed to Dr. Richard Harlan
of Philadelphia, it must have reverted in
some way back to the family. At all events,
it contains in the P. S. the original descrip-
tion of Harlan's hawk {^B. harlani), Audu-

bon having reopened the letter to announce
its capture and dedication.

As I have elsewhere said, I also have in
my possession the courteous little note from
Mrs. Audubon presenting me with the above
letter; it is dated from Scarsdale, Sept. 2,
1869, and in the postscript she begs that
the tremulousness so evident in her hand-
writing may be overlooked, as she declares
that she "is very blind I assure you."

JOHN WOODHOUSE AUDUBON.

This was some five years before Mrs.
Audubon died, as we learn from a Louis-
ville (Ky.) paper dated June 19, 1874, which
inakes the statement that "Mrs. Audubon,
widow of the celebrated naturalist, John J.
Audubon, died in Shelbyville, Kentucky,
yesterday, aged 88. She was a lady of un-
usual attainments, and constant companion
of her husband in his labors and travels,
visiting the principal courts of Europe in
his company. For many years past, since
his death, she has lived with her relatives
in this city and State."

Space will hardly admit of my giving
here in full the contents of the Audubon

Hints to Audubon Workers.

letter in my possession, as the communica-
tion is quite a long one, and, moreover, it
has already been published (see Nutt. Orni-
tho. Bull., Vol. v., 1880, pp. 202, 203).

My handful of relics is completed by two
other pictures also given to my family by
old Mrs. Audubon; one is a picture of her-
self taken in New York a few years before
she died, and the other of her son John
Woodhouse Audubon, taken at the same
time. I have copied these by photography
and here add them to the group shown in
the illustrations.

Very often I try and place the living
Audubon in our midst to-day and wonder
to myself how he would regard matters
ornithological of the present time. We
must believe he was too much a lover of the
woods and fields to have ever become con-
tented with the closet study of ornithology,
least of all with an "official" position under
the Government to grind out his magnificent
works of art, and his soul-inspiring descrip-

tions of them. No, we could never have
caged an Audubon — never in the world. We
undoubtedly would have had another great
volume of plates with the text giving all
the unfigured birds of our domains — west
and in Alaska. Then I must think he would
naturally have passed to the mammalian
fauna, as his tastes were evidently in that
direction.

We must also believe that he would have
looked with favor upon the organization of
the American Ornithologists' Union, and
heartily lent his aid to the support of its
present movements. Even more than this,
I believe he would have hailed with welcome
the organization of the Audubon Society,
and done all in his power to further its ends.
For be it said, notwithstanding the numer-
ous birds Audubon must have taken in his
long lifetime, he never took the life of a
single one unless he had a very definite use
for the specimen. Every line in his im-
mortal work goes to prove that fact.

R. W. Shufeldt.

HINTS TO AUDUBON WORKERS.*

FIFTY COMMON BIRDS AND HOW TO KNOW THEM.

IX.

SLATE-COLORED JUNCO; SNOWBIRD.

EARLY in September you may have
found the juncos, companies of little
gray-robed monks and nuns, just emerging
from the forests where they cloister during
the summer months. Most of them nest as
far north as the line from northern Maine
to Alaska, but Mr. Chadbourne has found
them " from the base to the bare rocky sum-
mits" of the White Mountains in July, with
"newly fledged young;"* and they also nest
in the Catskills, the Adirondacks, and even
in comparatively open deciduous woods on
the borders of the Adirondacks.

But though they may build in your local-
ity, as they do here, their habits, like those

* The Auk, April, 1887, Vol. IV., No. 2, p. 105.

of the chickadee, are greatly changed in
summer, and you will take more than one
casual walk through the woods before you
discover them. They are no longer in flocks,
but in pairs, and I consider myself fortu-
nate if I can get a timid look from one from
among the dead branches of a fallen treetop.
Early last May I was delighted to see a
pair on the edge of the raspberry patch, but
though they inspected the recesses of a pile
of brush, seemed greatly interested in the
nooks and crannies of an upturned root and
reviewed the attractions of a pretty young
hemlock that stood in a moss-grown swamp
on the border of the patch, I suspect it was
only a feint, and when they came to the grave
business of house choosing, they followed

* Copyright, 1888, by Florence A. Merriam.

Hints to Audubon Workers.

family traditions and built under a stump, in
a hole beneath the root of a tree, under an
overhanging bank, or somewhere else on the
ground, with a natural roof to keep off the
rain. At all events, they left the raspberry
patch, and with the exception of one or two
that I heard giving their high-keyed woodsy
trill in June, that was the last time I saw
any of the family there until fall. Then
they came out in time to meet the white-
throats, and stayed till after the first snows.

One day in September, I found a number
of them gathered around an old barn, some
hopping about picking up seeds, and others
sitting quietly on the boards and sticks that
lay on the ground. Another day they and
a number of whitethroats were by the side
of the barn, picking up grain that had fallen
from the threshing, and not satisfied with
what they could find there, some of them
flew up on the sill of a small square window
that had been left open, and hopping along
disappeared from our sight in the dark barn.
As the weather grew colder they came, as
they do every spring and fall, to see what
they could find to eat by the side of the
house. Here, they raise their heads with
quiet curiosity when you approach, and
always seem very gentle, trustful birds, but
it is said that they show much caution as
well as intelligence in eluding their enemies,
and are among the most difficult birds to
snare.

The call of the junco is a chip that sounds
like a thin smack. Of its songs, Mr. Bick-
nell says: "The junco has two very different
songs; a simple trill, somewhat similar to
that of the chipping sparrow; and a faint
whispering warble, usually much broken but
not without sweetness, and sometimes con-
tinuing intermittently for many minutes."

Among the notes of Miss H. H. Board-
man, a St. Paul observer, I find, under date
of April 7, 1887 : "At 8 A. M. saw quantities
of juncos, from one of whom a tiny trill,
more like a shimmer, quite clear and sweet,
about eight notes, and then up, crooning to

itself;" and "April 15, at sunrise, 5:15, a
tree full of juncos, twenty or thirty, all
singing this peculiar sweet twitter in differ-
ent tones. The effect of a whole flock is
sweet and harmonious."

In an old number of the Naturalist, Mr.
Lockwood gave an interesting description
of the habits of a flock of snowbirds that
visited him in New Jersey. He says: "In
easy view from my library windows is a spot
in the headland of the old orchard, where
last autumn grew a tall Phytolacca decatidra.
The tip of the dead plant is but just ex-
posed, and that is hint enough to the little
fellows that the dried currant-like berries
of the pokewort are to be found in a nat-
ural cache under the snow. The way in
which a group of five or six birds keep at
the spot would indicate that the placer 'pans
out well.' How they do dig down into the
snow! Dig? Yes, though, very unbirdlike,
that is the right word, for it is altogether
unlike scratching. Its method of mining,
for a bird, seems to me to be original. Our
Junco hyemalis is a hopper, not a runner,
and scratching is, as a rule, not an accom-
plishment of the hopper family. * * *
The bird stiffens out its toes, then makes a
jumping shove forward and upward, thus
lifting and flirting the snow. The move-
ment is of the whole body, and the action is
scooping, not unlike that of a ditcher. It
is not a shuffling motion, for it demands too
much dexterity, but a true shoveling move-
ment. Like the post-hole digger's shovel
with its short blade and long handle, the
middle toe of junco is shorter than its
tarsus.

"Soon this natural cache was exhausted,
and a deep, wide excavation with a small
entrance was the result of their patient dig-
ging. It was truly a snow cavern. The
birds soon learned to feed from a supply
put at their service on the window sill.
Finding so good a commissariat, they so-
journed with us a number of days, the little
bevy of not more than seven, keeping always

Hhtts to Audubon Workers.

together, as if by a family compact. Indeed,
this is a pretty domestic feature of our East-
ern snowbird. Some twenty-five feet from
our study windows is a beautiful copse of
Thuja occidentalis, or arbor vitse * * * the
trees are high and the foUage dense, * * *
Hither come our httle birds when the day's
foraging is done — this is their nightly 'cov-
ert from storm and rain'; while strange to
tell, their snow dugout is made to serve as
a cosy asylum from the cutting wind by
day." [American Natwalist, Vol. XV., No.
7, P- 519-520.)

He then goes on to say: "Our Eastern
snowbird does not hold together long in
large flocks, but does like to keep together
in small bevies, or family groups. * * *
Is a good deed contagious? These tiny
things have caught the knack of charity
among themselves ! There is a poor little
snowbird on a rail; something ails it, for a
stalwart junco is carrying food and feeding
it with nursely tenderness. To and fro goes
the noble little fellow, until the hunger of
its nursling is appeased. The bird is in
some way lame of wing; and its benefactor
knows all about it * * a double question
is under consideration, namely, hunger and
safety, demanding foresight and strategy.
If it would, the crippled bird could go to
the window sill and help itself; for it has
managed to keep up with the family flock,
but with painful effort. These two words
lighten up the whole case. Even the stal-
warts come to the place of feeding not
without circumspection and some distrust
* * * hence this thoughtful commiseration
— that crippled bird must be allowed a
position 'surveying vantage.'" {American
Naturalist, Vol. XV., No. 7, p. 519-521,
July, 1881.

BLUEJAY.

The bluejay always comes with a dash
and a flourish. As Thoreau says, he "blows
the trumpet of winter." Unlike the chick-
adee, whose prevailing tints match the win-

ter sky, and whose gentle day-day-day
chimes with the softly falling snows, the
bluejay would wake the world up. His-
"clarionet" sounds over the villages asleep'
in the snow drifts, as if it would rouse even
the smoke that drowses over their white
roofs. He brings the vigor and color of
winter. He would send the shivering stay-
at-homes jingling merrily over the fields,
and start the children coasting down the
hills. Wake-up, wake-up, come-out, come-out
he calls, and blows a blast to show what
winter's good for. And so he flashes about,,
and screams and scolds till we crawl to the
window to look at him. Ha! what a hand-
some fellow! He has found the breakfast
hung on the tree for him and clings to it,
pecking away with the appetite of a Green-
lander. Not a hint of winter in his coloring!
See his purplish back, and the exquisite
cobalt blue, touched off with black and
white on his wings and tail. How disting-
uished he looks with his dark necklace and
handsome blue crest ! There ! he is off
again, and before we think where he is go-
ing we hear the echo of his rousing phe-
phay, phe-phay from the depths of the.
woods.

Speaking of the winter birds of Massachu-
setts, Mr. Allen wrote in 1867: "Among
our more familiar resident birds, there are
but few species that seem as numerous in
winter as at other seasons; of these the
bluejay [Cyanura cristata, Swains.) is a
prominent example. Though unusually so-
cial in his disposition, he is yet hardly gre-
garious. The noisy screams of small scat-
tered parties reach us from the swamps and
thickets almost daily, and in the severer
weather, individuals make frequent excur-
sions to the orchard and farmer's cribs of
corn, the few grains they pilfer being amply
paid for in the destruction of thousands of
the eggs of the noxious tent-caterpillar.*
In 1881, Mr. Charles Aldrich wrote from

*Ameiican Naturalist, Vol. I., No. i, p. 45, March,
1867.

Hints to Audubon Wo7^kers.

Webster City, Iowa: "None of our winter
birds are so social as the bluejays. We see
them every day during our long, cold win-
ters. Our barnyards are their favorite re-
sorts, where they walk about very familiarly
among the poultry and domestic animals,
feeding upon the scattered or half digested
corn. Last night (Jan. 6), while I was pass-
ing a straw stack, a jay went whirling out
of a small hole into which it had crawled a
foot or more. This morning, as I write, the
mercury is down to 24, so I suppose my
jay had made the best possible provision to
protect himself from the approaching low
temperature. These birds and our little
chickadees seem able to endure such ex-
treme cold better than any others that re-
main with us all the year round. Soon after
sunrise on any of these cold, clear mornings,
they can be heard merrily chirping in the
neighboring groves and thickets."*

In another number of the Naturalist he
says: "So tame are they here, the little
daughter of a friend of mine saw a bluejay
very busily pecking at some object, doubt-
less an ear of corn. Approaching stealthily,
she clapped her hands upon his sides and
captured him ! It is amusing to see them
eat a kernel of our large western corn.
They cannot swallow the grains whole, and
are compelled to break them into two or
more pieces. This they do with powerful
strokes of their bills, while holding the grain
upon the ground or other hard surface,
with one foot. These strokes come down
as systematically as a blacksmith hits a hot
iron with his hammer ! Often three or four
blows are needed to divide the object, so it
can be swallowed and the bird looks round
at every stroke to see if the coast is clear.
But back in western New York and Penn-
sylvania, they were shy and secretive, living
for the most part in the grand old woods.
It seems to me this difference in habits may
be largely due to the scarcity of timber in

* American Naturalist, Vol. XV., No. 4, p. 319,
April, 1881.

this region, which makes it a necessity for
them to live near the abodes of men. As
population increases, their habits of famili-
arity are increased, and so the bluejay has
become one of the tamest and most domes-
tic of our Iowa birds."*

In this region the bluejay is an irregular
guest. Sometimes he is here for only a few
days in the fall; often he will visit us when
the hawks return in the spring, and tease
the young observer by imitating the red-
tail's cry. Then, if the fancy takes him, he
will spend the winter with us, showing com-
paratively little of the timidity Mr. Aldrich
found in those of western New York.

Last fall they were here for some time,
but when I was congratulating myself on
having them here for the winter they left,
and did not return till the middle of Janu-
ary. Then one of them suddenly appeared
on a tree in front of the kitchen window.
He seemed to have been there before, for
he flew straight down to the corn boxes.
The gray squirrels had eaten out the sweet-
est part of the kernels and he seemed dis-
satisfied with what they had left, dropping
several of the pieces after he had picked
them up. But after swallowing a few ker-
nels he took three or four in his bill and
flew up in a maple. There he must have
deposited some of them in a crotch at the
body of the tree, for after he had broken
one in two under his claw — striking it with
sledge-hammer blows, as Mr. Aldrich de-
scribes it — he went back to the crotch, picked
up something, flew back on the branch, and
went through the process over again. The
second time he flew down to the corn boxes
he did the same thing — ate two or three
kernels, and then filled his bill full and flew
off — this time out of sight. What a good
business man he would make ! All his mo-
tions are like this unique performance,
time-saving, decided, direct. Once during
the morning he flew down to the boxes

* Amencan Naturalist, Vol. XV., No. 8, p. 654-
655, August, 1881.

lO

Hints to Attdtibon IVoi^kers.

from the tree directly over them, and came
so straight he looked as if he were falling
through the air. He did not seem particu-
larly hungry, for the suet did not please
him at all, and the corn was only partly
satisfactory. He pecked at the bark of the
trees in an indifferent way, too, but I thought
he was drinking with more gusto. He
seemed to be catching the raindrops that
were running down the sides of the trees
and filling the crevices of the bark.

After he had been away for a few minutes
and the gray squirrels had settled down
comfortably for breakfast, he came dashing
round the corner in such a hurry he almost
flew into the squirrel that had taken posses-
sion of the lower box. The first thing I
saw was a confusion of blue feathers and
gray fur, and then a bluejay flying off to the
evergreen, and a gray squirrel shaking his
tail excitedly and starting from one side to
the other of the box trying to collect his wits.
By this time the bluejay had recovered
from his surprise, and seeing that it was
only a squirrel, hopped about in the spruce
as full of business as if the collision had
been planned. Not so with the poor squir-
rel ! He jumped up on the highest box,
stretching straight up on his hind legs, his
heart beating against his sides, his tail hang-
ing down dejectedly, his fore paws pressed
against his breast, and his ears standing
straight up as he looked off toward the
spruce where the bluejay had gone. Grad-
ually the questioning wonder on his face
changed to the most comical look of be-
wilderment. Could that big bird flying
about as if nothing had happened be the
thing that flew into him, or had he gone to
sleep over his corn and had a bad dream ?
He gradually settled down on his haunches
with an expression of utter, inane confusion
and finally turned back into his corn box, a
complete contrast to the clear-headed blue-
jay.

But it is not only the squirrels that the
bluejays dine with, for one day last winter

the little three-year-old came running out
of the dining room, in great excitement cry-
ing, "Oh, grandpa ! come quick! There are
three partridges, and one of them is a blue-
jay !"

Indeed, the other day the bluejays quite
took possession of the corn barrels that are
the especial property of the partridges.
They stand under the branches of a Norway
spruce on either side of a snow-shoe path,
that runs from the house, and the handsome
birds made a very pretty picture flying
about and sitting on the barrels, the green
of the boughs bringing out the blue of their
coats.

But the real home of the bluejay is in
dense coniferous forests like the Adiron-
dacks. There we find him with all his
family. I shall never forget seeing a flock
of the jays on Black Mountain. From the
top of the mountain the wilderness looked
like a sea of forest-clad hills, with an oc-
casional reef outlined by surf, for the largest
lakes seemed like silver tracery in the vast
expanse of forest. The impressive stillness
was only broken by the rare cries of a pair of
hawks that circled over the mountain, for the
most part they soared, silent as the wilderness
below them. Coming down the mountain in-
to the midst of the " forest primeval," where
the majestic hemlocks towered straight
toward the sky, and their massive knotted
roots bound down the granite boulders that
showed on the mountain side — there we
found the bluejays in their home. A flock
of them lived there together, feeding on
wild berries and beechnuts, sporting among
the ferns and mosses, and drinking from
the brook that babbled along near the
trail. What a wonderful home our hand-
some birds had chosen ! But the mem-
ory of the spot is hideous. Unmoved by
the beauty of the scene, to which the blue-
jays gave color and life ; unawed by the
henedicite of the hemlocks ; betraying the
trust of the friendly birds, the boy of the
party crept into their very home and shot

Hints to Audubon Workers.

II

(down one after another of the family as they
.stood resistless before him. To-day the
pitiful lament of the brave old birds haunt
me, for, forgetting to fear for themselves,
.those who were left flew about in wild dis-
tress, and their cries of almost human suf-
fering reached us long after we had left the
desecrated spot.

CROSSBILLS.

Last November, one of the commonest
sounds heard on my walks was an odd me-
tallic kimp^ kimp, kii/p, coming from a flock
■of crossbills far up in the air. They were
often so high that I could not see them, and
one day several flocks passed over my head,
affording only a glimpse of black dots for
them all. Their note often came from the
hemlocks back in the woods, and on Thanks-
giving morning I had the satisfaction of see-
ing the noisy strangers.

They had come out in the clearing, and
lighted near a milk house, some on a tree
and others on the ground. I crept up as
noiselessly as the crusty snow would allow,
and screening myself behind another build-
ing watched them for some time. They
seemed nervous, for every few minutes they
started up simultaneously with a whirr, flew
about a few seconds and then settled down
again. When they were resting, those that
were not chattering, warbled to themselves
in a sweet undertone, but when a new com-
pany joined their ranks they all began jab-
bering, and it was a grave question if any
of them could hear what they were asking,
or their neighbors trying to tell. Then as
they broke up into groups and went wheel-
ing about in the air, the glittering gilt deer
on top of a barn a few rods away attracted
them, and some of them lit on the horns a
moment in passing. Several squads flew
away, and as the confusion decreased the
others grew less restless, and twenty or
thirty flew down under the milk house door
and began picking up what they could find
on the stones.

Such a mixture of colors ! The old gen-
tlemen were the handsomest, being some
shade of red, while their wives and child-
ren were olivaceous or grayish. , They
seemed like a shifting kaleidoscope of
colors, as they hopped about busily hunting
for food.

Among them were a few pine finches, and
I thought that I heard some goldfinches
with those that passed over.

I got the pretty visitors a basket of grain,
and scattered it on the crust for them, but
they seemed to prefer cone seeds, for they
soon flew over to the spruces.

Mr. Allen says: "The crossbills, by the
great strength of their maxillary muscles,
and their strong oppositely curved man-
dibles, are able to pry open the tightly ap-
pressed scales of the fir cones, and to ex-
tract at pleasure the oily seeds, which other
birds equally fond of, have to wait for the
elements to release.*

The crossed bills that Mr. Allen refers
to, and from which the birds are named, are
accounted for by the old legend which says
the merciful birds tried to pull the nails from
the cross, and in doing so twisted their bills
in such a way that they will always bear the
symbol of their good deed.

In speaking of the occurrence of the cross-
bills in South Carolina, Mr. Wayne says in
general: "They go in flocks of from six to
forty individuals, and fly in the manner of
the American goldfinch [Spinus tristis), hut
their flight is generally very high and greatly
protracted; their note while on wing is
very similar to the cry of young chickens.
They always alight in the tops of the pines,
and each individual then gets a burr, to see
if it contains 'mast'. I have seen as many
as three birds on one burr."f

The crossbills are very erratic in habit,
and wander over large areas where they do
not remain to build. They nest throughout

* American Naturalist, Vol. I., No. i, p. 44-5,
March, 1867.

f The Auk, Vol. IV., No. 4, p. 288, October, 1887.

12

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

the coniferous forests of the northern United
States and Canada, and in mountains of the
Southern States, notably in North Carohna,
Tennessee, and Kentucky.

Mr. Bicknell describes a nest he found at
Riverdale, N. Y., in 1876. He says: "On
April 22 I noticed a pair building near the
top of a red cedar, about eighteen feet from

the ground. The nest, April 30, contained
three eggs, and was composed of strips of
cedar bark, dried grass, and stems of the
Norway spruce, and was lined with horse-
hair, feathers, dried grass, and fibrous roots.
The eggs were * * g^ very light blue,
slightly sprinkled and blotched at the large
end with dark purple."*

Florence A. Merriam.

CHARLEY'S WONDERFUL JOURNEYS.

JOURNEY VI.

"/"^OME here, Charley," said the dog,
Vs_^ "there's a gray squirrel up in this
maple tree, and I want to see you bark
him."

"But I wouldn't like to hurt the poor
little squirrel," said Charley.

" Oh, I didn't mean you to hurt him," said
the dog; "I only meant for you to split the
branch he's standing on, with your arrow,
and catch him by the foot, and then we can
have some fun with him."

Charley drew his bow and drove the ar-
row clean through the branch, and as the
rift closed, he saw that the squirrel was
caught.

" Keep quiet," said he, " I'll come up and
set you free in a minute, and then we'll have
some fun."

Then Charley began to climb the tree,
going up quite easily like a squirrel, and
when he came to the branches, he stood on
one and pulled himself up to the next, then
he stood on that and pulled himself up to
another, and kept on going up and up, such
a long time that he forgot all about the
squirrel, and at last when he was thinking
about nothing in particular, he heard a
voice just above him saying, impatiently,
"Make haste, Charley, and unlock the
bracelet; I hope you've brought the key
with you."

Charley looked up and saw a little bear

fastened to the branch overhead. He was
not at all surprised or frightened. Nothing
ever surprised Charley. On the contrary,
he seemed to recollect that he had been
traveling with a key in his pocket, on pur-
pose to set the bear free, and as soon as he
reached him he took out his key, and set the
delighted bear at liberty.

"I knew you would come," said he, "and
I'm so glad; they didn't want me to go to
the ball, but they pretended they did, and
told me I must wear my bracelets, and when
I put them on, they locked me to the tree,
and away they went to the bear garden
without me. Now let's come along and
have a dance."

So Charley and the little bear trotted off,
until at last they came to a beautiful garden,
with a fence of tall, straight trees growing
all round it.

" But this isn't a bear garden," said Char-
ley ; "this is a flower garden."

"Oh, yes," said the little bear, "it's a
flower garden before you begin, but after
you've finished it's a right out bear garden.
Here they all are !"

From all sides the bears came trooping
into the bear garden, the younger couples
catching each other as they met, and whirl-
ing around in a waltz, or dancing singly.

* American Naturalist, Vol. X., No. 4, p. 237,
April, 1876.

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

13

Charley and the little bear embraced and
began whirling round too.

"Now stop your fooling," shouted one of
the oldest bears, "and select your partners
for a country dance ; keep time to the music
and dance gracefully and decorously." The
sets were formed ; the old bear retired to a
corner, and with no other instruments than
his own pipes started the tune.

It was not a very soft or sweet music,
something like the bagpipes, perhaps, but
it was a very good tune for bears to dance
to, and Charley went through the figures,
and entered into the spirit of the fun with
as much zest as any of them.

During the dance, Charley noticed that
besides the musical bear in one corner, there
was another bear in another corner, who
never danced, but stood looking quite miser-
able with his hand to his head.

Charley knew at once that this must be
the bear with a sore head, but all the same,
he wanted to ask him, and when the first
dance was over, and the bears linked arms
and strolled about chatting to each other,
Charley approached the solitary bear, and
asked him why he did not dance.

"Oh, I never dance," said he ; "I'm the
bear with the sore head."

"I thought so," said Charley, "but how
did you come to get a sore head ?"

"You needn't come asking such ques-
tions as that," said the bear, "nobody ever
asked such a thing before, and that's two
questions you've asked me already."

" But how do you know you've got a sore
head?" persisted Charley.

"I give it up," said the bear ; "now tell
me."

" I can't tell you," said Charley, " because
I don't know."

" Don't know !" snarled the bear, furi-
ously, " then what did you come asking such
puzzlers for? You must know and you've
got to tell me. Come here, all of you," he
shouted, "and make him tell me."

"What is it?" asked all the bears in cho-

rus, as they came runnmg at his summons.

The little bear caught Charley and
whisked him out of the crowd, while the
bear with the sore head was telling his
story.

" Oh, if you gave it up, he must tell," they
all cried in a breath. "Where is he?"

"Here, eat this quickly," said the little
bear, thrusting a nut in Charley's mouth.
He ate another himself, and the next mo-
ment they were both turned into squirrels,
and ran up one of the fence trees, and turned
round to see the fun.

You should just have seen the look of
astonishment on the bears' faces when
Charley and his partner suddenly disap-
peared from before their eyes. They stop-
ped, looked at each other, and five or six
of them couldn't help asking, "Where is
he ?" " I give it up, I give it up," cried the
others all in a breath, "and now you've got
to tell us."

The bears who had asked the question
made a rush for the fence, but the others
were on them in an instant; the next mo-
ment they were rolling over and over,
biting, growling, clawing, and making
things lively in general.

" I told you they'd make a bear garden
of it before they'd done," said the squirrel,
laughing. Now let's be off home, it must
be getting late." * * *

"A pretty time of night to be coming
home," said the squirrel's wife as they
reached the nest. "I think you might stay
at home with your family, and not keep me
sitting up here until after midnight."

" I should have been home long ago,'*
said the squirrel, "but I found this poor fel-
low here running into danger, and just
came in time to save him from being torn
to pieces by bears."

"Well, what business was it of yours if
he chose to run into danger? You're very
fond of doing good for people you know
nothing about, and neglecting your own
family. Let everybody mind their own

H

Charley s Wo7iderfMl Journeys.

business, say I, and if folks choose to run
into danger let them run out of it again."

" I am really very sorry, ma'am, that I
have been the means of causing you so
much uneasiness," said Charley ; "and now
if you'll kindly turn me back again, I'll go
home at once."

"You are certainly very polite and civil
spoken," said the squirrel's wife, "and now
that I look at you closely I see that you're
only a changeling. Well, it's late now and
you had better come into the nest with us
to-night."

"You are very kind," said Charley, "and
I am sure you have a good heart, but I
would like to be changed back again and go
home."

"Whew!" said the squirrel, "that's more
than I can do, and as to a squirrel going all
that distance it's out of the question. I
have it ; the rabbit has a book of magic,
and he can tell you how to do it. It isn't
far," said the squirrel, turning to his wife,
"and I'll just step over with him and be
back in a minute."

"I am sure you must be tired," said the
squirrel's wife, now completely mollified,
"you go to bed, and I'll run over to the
rabbits with him." But the squirrel wouldn't
hear of this, and Charley being anxious, the
two set off at once and soon reached the
hole, and entered the rabbits' house, where
they found Mrs. Rabbit sitting by the
kitchen fire, with the table all laid for
supper.

"You quite startled me !" said she, "I'm
so nervous sitting here alone o'nights, and
my husband stays out so late!"

"Nothing easier," said she, when the
squirrel made known their business, "and
how fortunate my husband is so late, or he
would have eaten all the stewed dandelions,
and you must eat that if you want to be
turned into a rabbit."

"But I don't want to be turned into a
rabbit," said Charley, I want to be turned
into myself again and go home."

"I can't do that," said Mrs. Rabbit, "I
must turn you into a rabbit first, and then
I can tell you how to regain your own shape.
Here, sit up at the table, the dandelions are
all ready."

"Well, I must be off," said the squirrel,
and away he scampered.

Charley tasted the dandelions. "Oh, how
nasty it is," said he ; "I don't like that."

"It's only the first mouthful that's so
bad," said Mrs. Rabbit, eyeing him with in-
terest. " Swallow one good mouthful, and
after that it will taste better."

Charley forced down a mouthful, making
a wry face at first, but when it was down
he smacked his lips and took another mouth-
ful. "Why, it's simply delicious," said he,
and he set to work to finish the dish.

Mrs. Rabbit laughed, for Charley was al-
ready turned into a rabbit without know-
ing it.

"Come here," she .said, "and let me look
at you. Why, what a pretty rabbit you
make. A white rabbit with blue eyes, I de-
clare. Why, you're just lovely ! I don't
think you're as tall as I am; stand up and
measure."

She was so soft and nice as she nestled
close to Charley, and then scampered off
to entice him to play with her; but Charley
was anxious to get home, and asked her
what he must do next to regain his own
shape.

"I don't just remember," said she, "I
have it in a book up there, but it's difficult
to read by this light."

But Charley was impatient, so she took
down the book and turned over the leaves
(they were cabbage leaves). " Here it is,"
said she, as she came to the place, "you
must cross running water, and then you'll
regain your own shape."

"Oh, I know," said Charley, "there is
the creek that runs down to the mill. Thank
you so much, I'll be off now."

"You surely wouldn't venture out at this
time of night," said Mrs. Rabbit, who look-

The English Sparrow Discussed.

15

ed really alarmed ; "there are foxes about,
and it's downright dangerous for rabbits.
You had better stay here to-night ; I don't
know when my husband will be home."

But Charley was inflexible, and although
Mrs. Rabbit fondled and coaxed him to
Stay, he broke away from her, and bounded
off toward home.

The scamper over the green grass was
delightful ; Charley never enjoyed a run
more in his life ; but suddenly his quick
ear caught a slight rustling in a little tuft of
long grass, a little ahead and to his left.
He swerved off, and the next moment a fox
made a dash at him. He bounded forward,
the fox missed his spring, and away went
Charley at top speed for the creek, the fox
after him. Charley reached the creek,
sprang in, and found himself in his own
proper shape, up to his knees in water. He
was not frightened now, but oh, his feet
were cold ! All the same he couldn't help
laughing at the baffled fox.

"Were you looking for anything?" asked
Charley.

"Oh no, nothing particular," said the
fox. I saw something white glance by, and
just ran up to see what it was. Did you
notice it? Something like a white rabbit it
looked to me."

"I give it up," said Charley. "Do tell."

"Oh, you've been there, have you?" said
the fox, as he turned tail, and scampered off
as fast as his legs would carry him.

Charley tried to laugh, but his teeth were
chattering with cold ; he hitched up his
pants, and made another step forward, and
went in up to his middle. The cold was
so intense that he awoke. The gray dawn
was just breaking, and as Charley sat up in
bed and looked round to make sure that he
was at home, he saw his naked feet stick-
ing out, and found that he had pulled all
the bed clothes up above his middle. He
straightened them out as well as he could
without getting up, and then drew up his
knees and lay awake, recalling all the ad-
ventures of the night, until the sun rose
high, and his mother came to give him his
morning kiss and call him for breakfast.

C. F. Amery.

THE ENGLISH SPARROW DISCUSSED.

GENERAL SPINNER'S "Earnest Ap-
peal to Young America," which ap-
peared in our November number, would
have been lauded to the echo, if he had
omitted all allusion to the European spar-
row, but in drawing the line at that impu-
dent little marauder he has stirred up a con-
siderable measure of dissent, for the sparrow
is by no means without friends. We have
quite a number of interesting communica-
tions on the subject, one of which was ad-
dressed by the writer to General Spinner
personally, with a request to him to have it
published.

The letter has consequently found its
way to our columns, and it will be seen that
the General, neither softened nor convinced,

has double-shotted his guns, and ranged
himself in line of battle.

After the smoke of the conflict shall have
cleared away, it will be for our readers to
determine to which side the balance of vic-
tory inclines.

The English sparrow himself, we have
ascertained, takes no stock in the discus-
sion; he has come to stay, and will pursue
the even tenor of his way, undismayed by
the screaming of the American eagle.

From Lydia L. A. Very, to General F. F. Spinner.

No. 154 Federal Street, Salem, Mass.

Dear Sir — I was reading (with pleasure) your

remarks and advice to the boys to spare the birds,

when I came to your ending, advising them to kill

the poor little English (European more properly)

i6

The English Sparrow Discttssed.

sparrow. We who have watched the sparrows from
the first year of their introduction into the country-
know them to be useful and interesting. They have
freed our trees from canker worms (we do not tar
them now), they eat the pupa of the caterpillars (we
seldom see a caterpillar now), they destroy the clothes
moth in embryo, and they are busy scavengers of
our public streets and yards. They are constantly
at work, ivinter as well as summer. They do not
diive away our native birds. The foresters in the
Washington, New York, Boston and Philadelphia
public gardens and commons, all give their testimony
to the contrary, saying that robins, blue birds and
yellow birds, and others, build by the side of them.
The scarcity of native birds is owing to men and
boys shooting them, and women's cruelty in wearing
them on hats and bonnets.

Besides this, every school boy has to make a col-
lection of birds' eggs, and some take pleasure in their
wanton destruction.

The only thing I have observed, that most who
complain of them have against the sparrow is, they
soil the houses, but I think it ill becomes man to
complain of any animal for being dirty or quarrel-
some or thievish ; let him look at his own species.
Eesides and above all the benefits the sparrows confer
on us is this: they have comforted, amused, and in-
terested the old, the young, and the sick. It has
teen one of our greatest pleasures (in our loneliness
and bereavement) to watch and feed them.

All birds have their enemies who wish their de-
struction. It was not many years ago that some one
in London complained of the numerous doves, and
tried to effect their destruction. But it was found
that some kind-hearted person had left a fund for
them to be fed twice a day at Guild Hall, and this
prevented it.

In West Peabody there is a farmer who kills
robins, and hires boys to do so. His old father (I
am happy to say he is dead now) used to go round
and punch the bottoms of the robins' nests after they
had built them. In some places they make pies of
robins. I should as soon think of eating a piece of
a baby !

In old times crows were thought nothing of, and
every one shot them at will. Now, there is a law in
England to protect them, as they kill hard-shelled
bugs the smaller birds cannot.

Now I hope you will be convinced a little, that
-when God made the sparrows, He made them for
some purpose, and if we do not know it, it only shows
our ignorance. These European sparrows are the
ones the Saviour loved and noticed when he pointed
to them and said, "Your heavenly father cares too
for them."

I am told by English people that they value the
sparrow next to the robin, and their numerous spar-
rows are the reasons they have such heavy crops.

If you would oblige a lady, I wish you would have
this published in some paper your way, to let people
know the little sparrow has friends.

Get2eral Spinner s Rejoinder.
Pablo Beach, Florida, Dec. 19, 1887.

Dear Lady — Your very interesting letter, of the
nth instant, has been received. While your sym-
pathy for the feathered biped brigand, the English
sparrow, does you credit, I think it is misplaced. I
can only account for it, on the supposition that you,
like many others of your sex, have a perverted
sympathy for the worst kind of criminals. Place a
bloody red-handed murderer in prison, and directly
you will see a stream of refined ladies passing to the
murderer's cell, bearing to him all kinds of dainties,
choice flowers, and a profusion of misdirected sen-
timental sympathy. They pass by the suffering
poor ; they have no more sympathy for these
than they would have for the oriole and the blue
bird, that are persecuted by the merciless European
sparrow.

You do well to call him the European sparrow, for
he is the pest of the whole continent of Europe.
He leaves England early in the season, and joins his
fellow marauders on the continent. By the agricul-
turists of all Europe, and of our own country as
well, he is considered the greatest of pests, and to
them is a positive nuisance.

You have discovered virtues in this vagabond of a
bird that naturalists have strangely failed to see.

We in America have sparrows, ' ' to the manor
born," that are insectivorous; but, the fraud of a bird,
that we are considering, is strictly granivorous. If
your birds in Salem are as you describe them to be,
they differ from any that I have observed. They
must be witches, and under the traditional law of
your town should be burned. It is, however, no
doubt true, that those sparrows that live in cities be-
have themselves better than do their rustic cousins.
They, of the country, despoil the grainfields and the
gardens, while your pets in the cities riot on horse-
droppings. There is no accounting for tastes.

But you are not at all singular in your estimate of
the city sparrow. He evidently differs from the
fellow in the country. I have a young lady friend
and correspondent, who is a naturalist, and who has
made birds her especial study, who in regard to what
I had written concerning the English sparrow, wrote
me as follows :

"As to the sparrow — yes. I am a murderer in
theory, and here in the country I would be one in

Ge7ieral F. E. Spinner,

17

practice. It is only in places like New York that my
heart warms to the 'marauder.' Honestly, now,
don't you relent when he flies down by your side,
when all Broadway is hurrying by ? You may think
me sentimental, but I own that I am glad to see him
there, and I don't want to poison him at all." Per-
haps this is the true state of the case. The city
sparrow is a genteel loafer, while his country cousins
are unmitigated curses.

I wonder have you a garden, and have you tried
to grow a bed of early peas? If you have, you have
probably noticed that the rascals have some way of
communicating the fact to all their fellows for miles
around, and soon you will find that they had the
generosity to leave the empty pods for your share of
the crop.

I have been informed that some States have
passed laws making it a penal offense to harbor these
marauding tramps. I confess that I favor such a
law.

I will not gainsay your estimate of man, that he is
dirty, quarrelsome and thievish, for he is ranked as
the chief brute of creation. But then, woman be-

longs to the same species, and she is the man's
mother.

The doves that you mention, while they are not
quarrelsome, are, so far as filthiness and thievishness
are concerned, even worse than the English sparrow.
I have known much sickness, and even death, to
have occurred, in consequence of the use of rain
water, shed from roofs that had been soiled by these
unclean birds.

You say that the English attribute their good crops
to the presence of numerous sparrows. Are you
sure these English people were not quizzing you:
that instead of the crops of the farms, did they not
mean that the crops of the sparrows were so heavy?

You say God made these sparrows for a purpose ;
now, while I will not dispute your proposition, I beg
to remind you that the same may be said of skunks,
wolves, rattlesnakes, scorpions, fleas, mosquitoes,
and thousands of other animated nuisances.
Very respectfully yours,

F. E. Spinner.
Lydia L. A. Very,

154 Federal Street, Salem, Mass.

WE are grati-
fied at being
able to present the
readers of the Au-
dubon with a por-
trait of "the watch
dog of the Treas-
ury." General Spin-
ner well deserves a
niche in the Audu-

bon temple, for in
spite of his decided
attitude toward that
debatable bird, and
bone of contention
— the English spar-
row— he is a very
warm supporter of
the Audubon move-
ment.

A FAMILY ON MY HANDS,

AS I stood leaning over the garden
fence one Sabbath evening, admiring
a stretch of billowy meadow beyond, my
attention was drawn to a startled bird which
fluttered from the grasses a few feet distant,
and as it alighted on the fence near by, I
recognized it as the black-throated bunt-
ing [Euspiza americana). Suspecting a nest,
I made search and discovered one in a thick
bunch of clover and timothy, fastened to
the tall millet clover stems, about one foot
from the ground, and containing five beau-
tiful eggs. A neat little home it was, scent-
ed with the breath of the blossoming clover,
and swaying gently with every passing
breeze; it reminded me of the old nursery
rhyme, of " Rock-a-by babies all in the tree
top," etc.; indeed I used to be under consid-
erable apprehension lest the "cradle should
fall," and always visited it after each storm,
but this calamity did not overtake them.

Little Mabel was with me when I discov-
ered the nest, and we agreed that it should
be a secret between ourselves; that even
master Charlie should not be told, because
the "collector" of the family had offered
him "a great big nickle " for every nest he
discovered, and the temptation might be
too great for him; nevertheless, the "col-
lector" did surmise that we had found it,
and had the effrontery to attempt to bribe
us into telling him; we had the moral cour-
age to resist him, however.

Well, in the course of a week or ten days,
there were five little birdies in the nest, and
then we did not hesitate to inform the
"collector, " and, to his credit be it said,
he soon became as much interested in the
little family as we, and very interesting it
was, to watch the parent birds flit back and
forth on their ceaseless errands to obtain
food for the little hungry mouths. I used
to pity them sometimes, they had so much
to do, but they seemed very happy never-
theless, and would steal a moment every

now and then to alight on the fence, at a
safe distance from the nest, you may be
sure, and regale us with their merry Look
at me ! see ! see ! see! Look at me .' see I see !
see!

One day, when the birdies were perhaps
a week old, little Mabel came running in
with the startling intelligence that the reap-
er was at work cutting the grasses in the
field where our nestlings were hidden. My
dismay at this announcement can easily be
imagined; the parent birds themselves could
hardly have been more distressed. Had I
saved them from the unsparing hand of the
collector, only to have them meet a far
worse fate ? I simply could not, would not
see them cut in pieces by the cruel sickle;
and so, painful as the duty was, we tore the
little nest from its fastenings, and carried it
to a place of safety. The reaper did its
work; the sheltering grasses were leveled
to the earth, but the nestlings were un-
harmed.

We carried the nest, as nearly as we could
determine, to its former place, made a wall
of hay around it, and stood off to watch if
the parent birds, which in the meantime had
been flitting hither and thither, sweeping low
over the place where the nest had been, and
evincing the greatest anxiety and distress,
would find it. In a few moments, however,
the mother bird had discovered her children,
and joyfully and hastily settled down upon
them. And for ourselves, we were inex-
pressibly glad that our adopted family had
escaped so great a peril. But dangers
equally great awaited them. From its ex-
posed position the nest could be easily dis-
covered by the bad boys of the neighbor-
hood; besides there were huge turkeys now
stalking these meadows who would "gobble
them up " on sight like so many grasshop-
pers; to say nothing of the dogs and cats
and other enemies. What to do I did not
know, and in sore dilemma I consulted the

A Family on My Hands.

19

''collector, " who had become quite as much
interested in the little family as myself.
He advised me to move them a few feet
at a time until I had them under the shel-
ter of a fence some twenty feet distant.
But before this could be accomplished, their
hiding place had been discovered by two of
the worst boys in Coralville.

I felt that it was all over with my pro-
teges then, but I would make one last efort
for their lives. So, calling the boys to me,
we had a conversation something as follows:

"Now Joe," I said, addressing myself to
the elder, "these little birds have had and
are likely to have a perilous time of it; and
I am going to ask you to help me protect
them from bad boys and other enemies, if
you will. It is very interesting to watch
them grow and feather out, and you may
come and look at them every day if you
like. Of course you will not hurt them,
will you? I know Jesse will not." "No,"
said Joe, "I will not touch 'em, I told Ma-
bel I would, but I was just a foolin', 'an I'd
just like to see a boy try to molest 'em, I
bet he wouldn't do it again." "Course I
won't hurt 'em," Jesse said. Satisfied that
the birds had two valuable champions in
those whom I had naturally expected would
be their greatest enemies, I resolved to
leave them where they were for the present.
In about half an hour I heard an outcry,
and voices raised in angry altercation. Step-
ping out to ascertain the cause, I beheld
these two boys most unceremoniously, not
to say savagely, conducting a little red-
haired, freckle-faced culprit out of the
grounds. Not until they had taken him
safely beyond temptation and all the fences,
did they vouchsafe me a word of explana-
tion. "What doyous'pose he was doin'?"
said Joe. "He was a sneakin' up and
crawlin' along under the fence to try to get
at them birds, that is what he was; but I
give it to 'im, I did; he won't try it again,
he won't." He did not try it again; nor

did any other boy dare venture near those
birds without our consent thereafter.

Feeling that the birds were comparative-
ly safe, yet telling Mabel to look out for
them a little, engrossed with other duties
I scarcely thought of them again until dusk
that evening, when they were brought to my
mind by Mabel remarking, " I do not think
that mamma bird found her little ones this
evening, she was not on them the last time
I looked and they were quite cold." "Why,
I did not know that she had lost them," I
replied. "Oh, I moved them over to the
fence this evening, so the bad boys and
things couldn't find them, and I s'pose she
couldn't either." I hastened out and found
that it was too true. The mother bird was
fluttering about wholly unable to find her
little ones, who were almost perishing with
cold. Of course we could not catch her
and put her over them, so we brought the
little family into the house, wrapped them
in flannel and placed them under the kitch-
en stove; in the morning I found that they
had crept out of the nest and were lying on
the floor half dead with hunger and cold.
I warmed and fed them; then took the nest
to its former place, where the mother bird
soon discovered it. We did not move
them again. One died from the exposure;
but the others grew so rapidly that in a few
days they had filled the nest to overflowing;
how they managed to stay in it as long as
they did I cannot imagine. One day Ma-
bel brought one of them to me to show me
how large it had grown. I told her to take
it back and put it in the nest; she was gone
some time when she came running to me
with a troubled face, to tell me that she
"did not know whatever we were to do with
those naughty birdies, every time I put
them in the nest they get out again," she
said, "and run all over the stubble field."
It was then that I breathed a sigh of infin-
ite relief, and felt that my adopted family
was safely and happily off my hands at last.

Violet S. Williams.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The registered membership of the Society on
Dec. 31, 1887, was 42,987, showing an increase of
741 during the month, due to the following sources:

New York 195 Missouri 37

Massachusetts 49 Ohio 37

New Hampshire 39 Michigan 10

New Jersey 13 Indiana 2

Maine 34 California 2

Connecticut 33 Rhode Island 25

Vermont 4 Minnesota 5

Pennsylvania 76 Virginia i

Florida 21 West Virginia 11

Maryland 6 Nevada i

Kentucky 25 Tennessee 3

Kansas 8 Dakota 18

Iowa 27 Canada 39

Illinois 19 England i

741
The registered number of the Society on Dec. 31,
1886, was 17,723, from which it will be seen that
the registrations during the year 1887 amount to
25,264. Our register for associate members has not
been very e.xtensively availed of, only 37 members
having sent in their names for enrollment.

These figures by no means represent the full
strength of the Audubon Society. There is an
unaffiliated branch society in Philadelphia with quite
a respectable membership; there is the Smith College
Audubon Society, whose members, although they are
entitled to rank as associate members, have not been
registered on our books, and some other local societies
which seek the same aims by the same methods,
without affiliating themselves to the parent Society.

The real strength of the movement, the value of
the Society's labors, must be sought in its influence
upon the general public, and if this still leaves some-
thing to strive for, something wanting to complete
success, there is certainly abundant cause for con-
gratulation. The Society has commanded the at-
tention of womankind at large, and compelled them
to weigh its arguments in favor of bird protection,
and to think about the moral and aesthetic aspects of
dead-bird millinery, and they have thought to some
purpose. Ostrich feathers and cocks' plumes are in
vogue, and single quill feathers of eagles, turkeys,
or other large birds are worn with effect, but the
poor little stuffed bird with his glass eyes and dis-
torted limbs has been pronounced bad taste, and re-
legated to the limbo to which all dead fashions are
consigned before they finally disappear.

Yes, the Society has cause to congratulate itself on

some good work done, but it started out with other
aims than the mere overthrow of the prevailing fash-
ion of dead-bird millinery. It aimed to strike at the
cause of which this was only a symptom. It aimed
at combating the popular assumption that birds were
of no consequence to man, and might be extermin-
ated without inconvenience; to awaken a general, in-
telligent and sympathetic interest in bird protection,
by teaching their economic importance to man, and
by instructing young and old in their characters and
life habits.

To this end the Audubon Magazine was estab-
lished; it has been received favorably, and its circu-
lation is steadily increasing as it becomes known.
No child's education can be considered complete that
does not include a liberal course of natural history;
and on the special subject of birds the Audubon
Magazine is beyond all comparison the best popular
reader published.

The Forest and Stream Publishing Company have
placed this periodical before the public at their own
cost and risk, and we are anxious to secure for it
such a circulation that it will in time render the
Society self-supporting. This is the one direction
in which the friends of bird protection can aid us
most effectively. We ask no one to put their hands
in their pockets for us, but we do ask all friends of
bird protection, all humanitarians, to speak a word
in season, in favor of a magazine the proceeds of
which are devoted wholly to the costs of spreading"
the Audubon movement. C. F. Amery,

Secretary Audubon Society..

ORNITHOLOGISTS VS. COLLECTORS.

A WRITER in a recent number of the Evening Post
is inclined to be severe on ornithologists, because of
some communications in a paper known as The
0)'nithologist and Oologist from a Mr. T. D. Perry
of Savannah, in which that gentleman, summing up
his oologic triumphs of the year, claims under the
blue grosbeak alone, which he recognizes as a retired,
beautiful, and rare species, eleven sets of three eggs,
four of four eggs, and several of two eggs, "more (he
adds) than I ever took in two seasons combined," and
further boasts that he and his friend took eighty eggs
of that very rare and beautiful singing bird, the
Swainson's warbler, in the same season.

There is ample cause in this wanton destruction,
for all the indignation expressed by the writer in the
Ei'ening Post; but ornithologists must not be held
responsible for all that is done in their name by skin

The Auduboji Note Book.

21

and egg collectors who ignorantly style themselves
ornithologists and oologists. The former may collect
both skins and eggs, or cause them to be collected,
for purposes of accurate scientific description and
comparison, and occasionally, but rarely, a man of
science will be reckless of life, and take a specimen
for which he has no definite need, but in so far as he
does collect, it is always as a means to an end, and
that end a worthy one — the advancement of our
knowledge of birds; but with the bird or egg col-
lectors, the collection itself is the end; their triumphs
are measured by the number and rarity of the species
secured.

The collecting of birds and eggs fostered in youth
under the mistaken impression that it indicates a
taste for natural history, frequently becomes a passion
to which the votaries devote all their leisure; and
■quasi scientific journals are started to keep alive a
spirit of emulation among collectors by affording
them an opportunity for chronicling their triumphs.
The effect of this passion for collecting among boys
is perhaps quite as fatal as the fashion of feather
millinery among women, and we may expect both to
■disappear when the natural history and economic
importance of birds shall be taught systematically
in our schools.

A STORY OF THE IMAGINATION.

Under the above heading, the New York Stm has
published an unqualified denial of the Seneca Falls
story, in which the prepossessing little widow, Mrs.
Ruth Armstrong, was said to have netted about
fifteen hundred dollars, by inducing a number of
local residents to subscribe to Audubon pledges,
which she subsequently converted into promissory
notes, and negotiated with Albert Hall, the banker
■of Sheldrake, who of course demanded his pound of
flesh as uncompromisingly as old Shylock.

The story had a very realistic air about it, and was
well calculated to impose upon the credulous; but an
investigation only served to show that in every detail
it was a concoction of the same malicious type, as
the less definite ones in which "a farmer in the south-
ern portion of the State," or "a farmer a few miles
from here," was said to have had his signed pledge
■converted into a promissory note.

It was very difficult to trace the authors of in-
definite stories such as have been flying about in
•country papers during the past two years, but the
Seneca Falls story, published as it was in a respect-
able New York journal, furnished a clew to the
writer, and admitted of complete refutation. The
first step in the investigation was to write to the
several parties named in the story, and in addition to
this we communicated with a respectable firm of

resident lawyers, Messrs. Hammond, McDonald &
McDonald, at Seneca Falls, asking them to investi-
gate the stories; and these gentlemen, after careful
inquiry, report "that none of the six persons men-
tioned in the story is a resident of the county, and
that there is no truth whatever in the story, nor any
foundation for it." Our letters to the victims came
back unclaimed.

With these evidences in our possession we com-
municated with the editor of the New York Sun, who
was of course an.xious to make all necessary repar-
ation. The writer is too insignificant for the Society
to proceed against legally, and moreover, we assume
that he has been a mere tool in the hands of a party
of skin collectors, who, if they are wise, will be care-
ful to give us no further provocation to proceed
against them criminally. Men who employ disre-
putable tools for criminal purposes, may be sure
their tools will "squeal" to save their own skins.
After this exposure, too, we trust the press every-
where will be on its guard against the admission of
any such ridiculous stories into their columns. The
conversion of an Audubon pledge into a promissory
note is simply an impossibility.

A YOUNG ORNITHOLOGIST.

South Hingham, Mass., Jan. lo, 1888.
Dear Mr. Editor:

I am 12 years old, and a subscriber to the AUDU-
BON Magazine. I like it very much, as I am inter-
ested in the study of birds. Most every day after
school, my dog Joe and I stroll into the woods to see
them. I have three or four books relating to birds,
and every night I read about some bird in them, and
then write about it. I have also a block of paper,
on which I am writing now about the chickadee. I
have a natural history room up-stairs, in which I
keep my papers on birds, and a case of curiosities,
butterflies, etc. I am trapping with two boys this
year, Warren and Frank Gushing, friends of mine;
we call ourselves by the Indian names, Jim, Jack
and Joe Anver. We caught eight woodchucks, four
muskrats, and one rabbit last year, and hope to meet
with as good success this year. In the woods we
have a camp, near which we have a camp-fire, and
pop corn, and have a fine time. We take up my
spaniel Joe, and their Gordon setter Dan, and the
dogs seem to take as much interest as we boys in the
hunt. Your friend, H. W. Young.

Bound Volume. — We are now able to supply the
first volume of the Audubon Magazine, bound in
cloth, price fi.oo. Govers may be had for 25 cents,
and loose numbers sent to us will be bound for 50
cents.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION.

..,|

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass.
2nd mo., 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream :

I heartily approve of the proposed AuDUBON So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 18S6.
Editor Forest and Stream :

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher,

Cornwall-on-Hudson, N. Y., \
Feb. 22, 1886. [

Editor Forest and Sti-eam:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

Wes.t Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society. Very sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, )
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. \
Editor Forest atid Sti-eam :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice ; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE RUSTY CRACKLE.

( Scokcophagus carolinus (Miill.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

MARCH, 1888.

No. 2.

THE RUSTY CRACKLE

THE birds with which we are most
familiar are those which come to
us in spring and spend the summer with us,
mating, building their nests and rearing
their broods under our very eyes. They
are our old acquaintances, and we come to
look upon them as friends, whose return
we may expect at a certain time each spring,
and if their arrival is for any cause delayed,
we experience a feeling of real disappoint-
ment. The familiar robin, the sweet-voiced
bluebird, the active, energetic and scolding
Avren and the gorgeously habited oriole, be-
long to this class, and the dweller in the
country, if he does not know each one of
these and hail his arrival in spring with
feelings of delight, must indeed be very
heedless. When they have come, their every
movement is watched, and the children are
all anxious to know when and where the
birds are going to build their nests. If a
site is chosen near the house what delight
is expressed, and how eagerly each opera-
tion is watched! What exclamations over
the first egg that makes its appearance in
the neat structure, and what agonies of
anxiety lest some accident should destroy
it. Yes, the birds are certainly the children's
friends, and the little ones could not have
better ones, for association with them can
not fail to teach important lessons.

Of those birds which come to us in
autumn and spend the winter here, most of
us know but little. Many of them do not

reach their winter haunts until the weather
has become so inclement that few people
care to venture into such places as the win-
ter birds choose for their homes. And yet,
even at the bitterest season of the year, the
woods and thickets are populous with a life
that is all their own, and a multitude of
busy, blithe, cheery, winged creatures are
hard at work earning an honest living, and
seemmg to take great pleasure in their
ceaseless work.

Besides these two great classes, the sum-
mer and the winter residents, there is an-
other large class of birds which are with
us for a short time only during spring and
fall. To this class belongs the Rusty
Crackle.

Although abundant birds at certain sea-
sons of the year, they are never residents
with us of the Middle States. The Rusty
Crackle comes to us from the north in the
early autumn and remains until winter sets
in,, when the greater number of his kind
take their departure for more genial climes.
Sometimes a few, perhaps more hardy than
their fellows, or, it may be, induced to loiter
by some unusually favorable feeding ground,
remain with us all the winter, one observer
having recorded the capture of several in-
dividuals of this species in Connecticut
during the months of January and Febru-
ary, but generally the Rustics have all gone
by the end of November. While they are
with us in the autumn, they are often seen

26

The Rusty Grackle.

about the barnyard, standing on the fence,
or even walking sedately about among the
cattle, looking for insects or picking in the
straw in search of scattered grain. Some •
times they may be seen walking over the
plowed fields in search of insects in the
upturned earth. They are fond of berries,
too, and look along the borders of pools
and brooks for the water insects and crusta-
ceans, which constitute a considerable por-
tion of their food.

The Rusty Grackles spend the winter in
the Southern States, and by the time the
winter is half over begin their slow journey
northward. We have seen them in New
York and Connecticut from the middle of
February until well into April, when they
disappear and do not return again until
September. During their stay with us in
spring, the males have assumed their hand-
some breeding plumage of rich glossy black,
and are thus much more beautiful than
when in their rusty autumnal dress. At this
season, they are much more noisy than in
autumn, and often give voice to a simple
but pleasant song. Now, too, they seem
to prefer swamps and wet places generally,
and are sometimes found associated with
the red-winged blackbird.

After it leaves us, the Rusty Grackle con-
tinues its journey northward, reaching
northern Maine about the middle of May.
Here some of them remain to breed, while
others pass northward to Labrador and to
the fur countries, extending their migra-
tions as far north as timber grows. Rich-
ardson gives its summer range as extending
as far north as the 68th parallel of latitude,
and no doubt it breeds almost everywhere
throughout the Dominion of Canada east
of the Great Plains, where its place is taken
by a nearly allied species, the blue-headed
Grackle. Audubon tells us that this bird
begins to lay about the first of June in Maine
and fully a fortnight later in Labrador.
The nest is a rough affair on the outside,
formed of small weed stems and coarse

grasses, but is neatly lined with finer grass,
or, in Labrador, with moss. It is usually
placed in a low bush or sometimes on the
lower branch of a tree, and contains four or
five eggs, greenish in color, mottled and
clouded with brownish markings.

The Rusty Grackle does not hop when
on the ground like the robin and its near
allies, the finches, but walks after the man-
ner of most of our blackbirds and the crows
and ravens.

Audubon gives us an interesting account
of one of these birds in captivity. He says,
"An acquaintance of mine, residing in New
Orleans, found one of these birds, a beau-
tiful male in full plumage, not far from that
city, while on one of his accustomed walks.
It had been shot, but was only slightly in-
jured on one of its wings, and as it was full
of vivacity and had a clear brilliant eye, in-
dicating that its health had not suffered, he
took it home and put it in a cage with sev-
eral painted buntings. They soon became
accustomed to each other, the Grackle
evincing no desire to molest its smaller com-
panions. I saw it when it had already been
caged upward of four months, and had the
satisfaction to hear it sing repeatedly. It
frequently uttered its traveling chuck-note.
It was fed entirely on rice. This was the
only specimen 1 ever saw in captivity, and
it proved a very amiable companion." Wil-
son also speaks of these birds in captivity,
and says that they are readily tamed.

The plate of the Rusty Grackle, which
accompanies this account of the bird, is a
reproduction of Audubon's illustration of
the species.

The Rusty Grackle is 9^ inches in length
and is 14 inches in alar extent. The full
plumaged male is everywhere deep glossy
black, with some greenish and bluish re-
flections. The female is brownish black;
the sides of the head above and below the
eyes are light yellowish brown, and all the
feathers are edged with brownish. The eye
is pale yellow, bill and feet black.

0 r

SPENCER F. BAIRD.

BY the death of Professor Spencer Ful-
lerton Baird, which occurred at Wood's
HoU, Mass., on the 19th August last, Amer-
ica has lost one of the greatest men and
most efficient scientific workers this conti-
nent has given birth to

Professor Baird was for many of the
later years of his life the Secretary of the
Smithsonian Institution, and United States
Commissioner of Fish and Fisheries, and
in each of these offices he perfected so ex-
cellent an organization of men and means,
and achieved such important results, that
his claim to name and fame might very
well have rested on his achievements in
either department. But when we consider
that, valuable as were his labors in these im-

portant offices, they were but a small frac-
tion of his life's work, that as a scientific
man his writings had brought him world-
wide fame, that the catalogue of his pub-
lished contributions to science embraced
ov^r a thousand titles, and that of every
subject of which he wrote he displayed
such a knowledge as to render him a final
authority, we begin to have some concep-
tion of the greatness of the man and to re-
alize how largely he contributed to the
maintenance of his country in the race of
intellectual progress.

Spencer Fullerton Baird was born at
Reading, Pa., Feb. 23, 1823, and at an
early age displayed that taste for natural
history, which united with his definiteness

28

spencer F. Bailed.

of purpose, led him to distinction in his
chosen field of research. When fourteen
years old, he began, with his brother Wil-
liam, a collection of the birds of Cumber-
land county. Pa., and the materials then
brought together formed the nucleus of the
Smithsonian collection of birds. It was at
this period of his life that Baird formed the
acquaintance of Audubon, who became his
warm friend, and whom he materially aided
in the labors to which in later years he gave
an added value by systematizing their re-
sults.

At the age of seventeen he graduated
from Dickinson College and entered upon
the study of medicine, but he appears to
have longed for a broader field of research,
and five years later accepted the chair of
Natural History, and later that of Chemistry,
in Dickinson College. While thus engaged
he became associated with Agassiz, with
whom he planned a joint work on the fresh-
water fishes of the United States, an un-
dertaking which from some cause fell
through, but the mere fact that Agassiz en-
tered into the arrangement, is evidence of
the ripeness of intellect displayed by his
young colleague. The five years spent by
Baird as professor in this institution consti-
tuted a definite epoch of his life ; they were
years devoted to the acquisition and con-
sideration of facts brought to light by his
own labors and those of others, and these
facts were classified and arranged with
some efforts at system in the process of col-
lections ; but it was not until the close of
this period that Baird developed those great
capacities for generalization and systemiza-
tion, which later enabled him, as it were,
to build together the achievements of past
and contemporary workers into a monu-
ment in which all the valuable results of
their life labors were so arranged that they
were seen to constitute severally important
parts in a great whole of truth, order, and
beauty.

In every department of natural history

Baird may be said to have stood to his fel-
low workers in the relation of the architect
to the quarryman. No matter how perfect
their knowledge of their several specialties,
Baird mastered all that they knew, and with
rare insight, saw at a glance the relations
of truths in one branch of science, to truths
in all others, and the general order which
rendered it possible to bind all together in
one harmonious whole.

In 1850 Baird was elected Assistant Sec-
retary of the Smithsonian Institution, and
naturally succeeded to the Secretaryship on
the death of Professor Henry, and it was
in his conduct of the duties of this office
that he found opportunity for the display
of that rare administrative ability and capa-
city for organization, which led to his selec-
tion for the post of Commissioner of Fish
and Fisheries.

His labors in this department, his success
in restocking depleted waters with choice
fish, and the enormous economic importance
of the results achieved, are topics of the
day, and familiar to every one interested in
the subject. Having seen what was wanted,
designed the necessary measures, and or-
ganized a staff to give effect to them, the
work really seemed to call for little further
attention from him. An hour or two a day
was as much as he was in the habit of de-
voting to this important department, but
he was familiar with every detail of the oper-
ations.

Professor Baird's contributions to scien-
tific literature were, as already said, very
numerous. Between 1850 and 1874 he pub-
lished several works upon North American
natural history, the most important of which,
perhaps, was his "North American Birds,"
published in 1858, a work which Coues
characterizes as the most important and
decided single step ever taken in North
American ornithology, in all that relates to
the technicalities of the science, effecting a
complete revolution in classification and
nomenclature.

spencer F. Baird.

29

As a scientific man Professor Baird en-
joyed world-wide fame. Dickinson College
awarded him the degree of Doctor of Phy-
sical Science, Columbia conferred on him
the degree of Doctor of Laws, Melbourne
awarded him the silver medal of the Ac-
climatization Society, France the gold medal
of the Soci^t^ d' Acclimation, the Emperor
of Germany the first prize of honor i^Erster
Elwenpreis) of the International Fisheries
Exhibition at Berlin, and the King of Nor-
way and Sweden decorated him Knight of
the Royal Norwegian Order of Olaf. He
was a member of nearly all the leading
scientific associations of the world, and
genera and species innumerable have been
named after him. Honors and distinctions
which other men spent laborious days and
sleepless nights in striving for, came to him
unasked, unsought ; he allowed himself
to be associated with many societies and
institutions, simply because he was too kind
to reject a courtesy.

If his genius did not mark him out as a
man possessed of powers superior to those
of most other contemporary great men, we
might be tempted to say that his kindliness
of disposition, his gentle consideration for
the feelings of others, and his extreme sim-
plicity were his leading characteristics, for
these traits could not fail to impress them-
selves on every one with whom he came in
contact. On this subject we cannot do
better than quote from the personal remin-
iscences of Chas. W. Smiley in the Micro-
scopical Journal :

" If one quality was more prominent in
his life than others it was his kindness. He
had as kind words for messenger boys as
for Senators. He never showed that he
felt superior to anybody, and he always ap-
peared to prize the friendship and cordiality
of those whom everybody knew to be his
inferior?. What often surprised me was
that he would spend valuable time in enter-
taining those who had no such claims upon
him. Some book, picture, specimen, letter,

or incident was generally handy to furnish
him a text for charming conversation. Some
came at length to feel, after his health be-
gan to fail, that they ought not to let him
use his time thus, for he surely would atone
for it in over-work ; and so, not compelled
by business to confer with him for several
days, when one endeavored to lessen the
multitude of interviews he was holding, the
Professor noticed the absences, and play-
fully rallied the absentee upon his omis-
sions, as if the former, and not the latter,
had been the loser thereby. Whoever came
into his friendship came to stay, and he
never deserted any in adversity, even when
they became troublesome to him.

"I never saw him at all angry, and upon
catechising one of his most constant at-
tendants upon this point, the most I could
learn was that on one occasion, when a
beautifully bound book dropped into the
mud, virtually ruining it, the Professor ut-
tered some mild by-word. When a man
came at him with a storm of abuse or of
misapprehensions, he would sit perfectly
quiet until the storm had spent itself and
the bearer had said all he could think of,
then in the calmest manner he replied so
kindly as always to send his antagonist away
happy. His kindness extended to wrong-
doers and unfaithful employees. He was
never known to discharge from the service
for incompetency or neglect any person
whom he had know personally. When it
became evident that one was not doing well,
the Professor would try the person in some
other capacity. There are those who have
thus made very extended rounds in search
for their proper spheres.

" Next to kindness may be placed mod-
esty. As it permeated everything, there
could be no suspicion of affectation. Even
his dress, always neat, was so unostenta-
tious that he was often likened in appear-
ance to a well-to-do farmer. His horse and
carriage were the plainest that could be
seen at the Smithsonian or the White House.

30

SpeiiceT- F. Baird.

He was granted the privileges of the floor
in the Senate and the House, but he never
exercised them. He did not hke to dine
out with foreign ministers and Government
officials, though his rare powers of conver-
sation and his official position would have
made him doubly welcome there. He was
exceedingly averse to appearing in public
meetings. I never saw him on a public plat-
form but once, and he stipulated then that
he must not be called upon nor mentioned.
When he attended the National Academy or
the American Association he would usually
be seen in the lobby rather than in the ses-
sions. He refused the presidency of the
latter society at the Portland meeting from
his aversion to standing before assemblies.
When asked if he would attend various cele-
brations to which he was invited, he gener-
ally replied: 'What do you suppose they
would care for my presence ?' Of all the
tickets which he received to stage seats on
great occasions, and free seats for great
events, he used scarcely one per cent. He
attended neither church nor theatre for a
dozen years. Barnum's circus was the one
only large gathering which he loved to fre-
quent. ' I don't care what the rest of you
do; I am going to the circus this afternoon,'
he exultingly exclaimed one day a few sum-
mers ago. The way he threw off care that
day was grand. He never courted the favor
of the President, Senators, or Congressmen,
and he felt so unequal to paying them the
attention he considered them to deserve
that he sometimes tried to delegate the task.
And yet the intermediaries, whom the Pro-
fessor evidently considered very important,
as I have been told, were regarded by the
legislators only as so many errand boys.

"To me the calmness with which he at
last faced the inevitable was amazing. For
months he knew his condition and the pro-
gress of his disease even better than his
physicians. Quietly he arranged his estate,
selected his successors in all three institu-
tions, gave certain confidential directions in

the interest of his family, but he tried to
conceal from them his expected departure.
There was no crucifix, no priest, no religious
ceremony, no tears, no murmur, no farewell.
Only when he had gone was it discovered
to what marvellous perfection he had
brought his business arrangements. Only
then did we learn many things that had been
his secrets for months. To my mind even
death quailed before him, and, as had oc-
curred so often in his life, so this last visitor,
which came as an enemy, melted into a
friend. All was calm, peaceful and sublime."

And now what shall be said of the genius
of the man ? for he had undoubted genius.
In his case genius can hardly be defined as
the capacity for hard work. It would per-
haps be hard to find a brain worker whose
results great or small were achieved with
less conscious effort.

Baird's genius was akin to Shakespeare's,
although displaying itself in another field.
It was due to his clear insight into his sub-
ject, his ready apprehension of the harmony
that pervades all nature, of the measure of
relationship and divergence that assigns the
proper place to each group of plants or
animals and to each member within a group;
in fact to his clear broad grasp of the sub-
ject in all its relations.

Baird's clear insight in this field can no
more be attributed to hard work than Shake-
speare's marvellous insight into man's char-
acter, and the mainsprings and motives of
conduct. The one or the other may have
overworked himself by too long a strain
upon his physical powers, but the quality of
the work done was in both cases the result
of clear instinctive insight exerted without
conscious effort, but necessarily not without
a certain measure of laborious preparation.
What the specialist in any department of
research might have acquired by the labors
of a lifetime, could be summed up and
valued by Baird almost at a glance, and its
proper place assigned to it in the system-
ized knowledge of the age.

HOUSES TO LET.

THE spring time is coming once more ;
snow and ice will soon disappear,
and Nature burst the fetters which so long
have held her spell-bound ; the waters in
the ice-bound streamlet will soon be bub-
bling, bounding or gliding along ; winged
insects will once more flit over its surface,
and tiny fish disport themselves in its depths;
the trees will be bursting into bud and
blossom, the eye be refreshed by the soft
green tints that meet it everywhere in forest
or on prairie, the heart gladdened by the evi-
dences that the earth is renewing its youth,
with unfailing promise of fruitfulness; and
to crown all, the wild melody of the birds
bursting forth in field and orchard, will com-
pel us mechanically to lift up our eyes, and
stir the heart to sympathy and longing, and
to a desire to be up arid doing, with hope
and confidence that summer will soon be
here, that the earth will renew her increase,
and the seed time be succeeded by harvest.

But the birds ! how do they know it? So
many of them were born only last summer.
They lingered on in the only land they
knew until food was scarce, until to have
lingered longer were death. With what
misgivings perhaps did they wing their
flight to unknown regions. But they found
the sunshine, and seed, and insects, and
reveled in plenty, while the Northern States
were held in winter's icy grasp. What can
prompt them to return to the birth-place
from which stern necessity drove them out ?
Some of them are arriving even before
winter has relaxed his icy grasp; they come
in hope, they stay in confidence, they know
that spring time will follow winter, they
hold the promise sure.

And how glad the children are to welcome
them back! How their eyes brighten as
they see the birds flitting from tree to tree,
and recognize once more their half-forgot-
ten minstrelsy. Between the children and

the birds what untold sympathies! There"
was a primeval past in which there were no
birds, and who can imagine what a dreary
life man would have lived on earth if the
song birds had not heralded his advent
with their glad warblings, taught the race
to look up, filled their souls with melody,
and roused them to emulate the gay carol-
ings of the birds with their own vocal or-
gans?

And the return of birds brings gladness
to grown-up children also, reminding them
of the time when they too shared the wild
birds' careless freedom, and thus bringing
them into closer sympaLhy with the chil-
dren. Many a toil-worn, and more or less
care-worn farmer is ready to lend a hand
to build a bird's house — to please the chil-
dren, of course — who yet smiles to find
what pleasure he himself finds in the task.
And what inventive genius in the matter of
birds' houses is displayed by the mother
who rarely has a moment to spare from the
daily round of duties. What treasures in
the way of tomato cans she produces from
almost inaccessible shelves in old closets!
What forgotten boxes she brings to light!
What happy suggestions she makes of ways
and means to adapt them to the desired
ends! And how father's brow wrinkles as he
mentally strains to work out the problems
suggested before he takes the task in hand!
The work gets itself done somehow, although
all too slowly for the impatient young ones;
but one after another boxes and tomato
cans and flower pots are secured to the
walls of the house, or suspended from trees,
or elevated on poles, and advertise them-
selves as houses to let ; real birds' houses,
if the birds would only recognize them as
such, and take possession. But that if !
How the children are balanced between hope
and fear pending its solutions! How they
watch the advent of every bird within the

32

Houses to Let.

charmed circle! How they strive to attract
them with crumbs! How their eyes wander
to the "houses to let." What trepidation
if a bird alights near one! What crowning
joy when at last a pair of bluebirds, or mar-

Tig 1

tins, or wrens, take possession and begin
building! What a delightful calm follows
excitement, as hope resolves itself into
fruition, suspense into realization!

For years past these little birds' houses
have been a feature of country and subur-
ban life "o'er all the pleasant land," and
now that Audubon Societies have sprung up
and are spreading in every village and ham-
let, and developing a healthier sentiment
among those who erstwhile cared not for
these things, we may confidently look for a
considerable extension of the custom. We
want to guide the way, too, to a more taste-
ful style of architecture in birds' houses.
Those in general use are well enough as
means to a desired end, but oftener than not
they are unsightly. There is no need for
this; tasteful birds' houses may be designed
of very simple material. Here is one con-
structed of a flower-pot, secured to the wall,
which without further adornment does ad-
mirably for a wall covered with creepers.
The simplest method of making them, says
our artist, is to fasten a 5-in. pot against a
stone or brick wall. The drain hole of the
pot is enlarged by chipping off a small piece

at a time with the sharp ferrule end of a file,
but to do this successfully the pot must be
soaked in water for three hours to soften
the ware. Do not try to make the hole ex-
actly symmetrical, but have its outline irreg-
ular. Two small holes are also chipped in
the sides of the pot, one of the diameter of
one-half inch; this hole when the pot is in
position is to answer as a window to admit
a small quantity of light into the interior of
the pot; the other hole, on the under side
of the pot, is to be but one-quarter of an
inch in diameter, and is for the purpose of
admitting a current of fresh air. When it
is placed in position the pot is held against
the wall to which it is to be fastened by
leaning a post or board against it. For a
cement for fastening and ornamenting the
pot, plaster of Paris is to be preferred to
Portland or other cements, the plaster being
light and quick setting, which is hastened
by adding a small quantity of salt when
mixing it. Another advantage the plaster

possesses is that it is a non-conductor of
heat, so that all danger of the interior of the
bird house becoming over-heated is re-

Houses to Let.

ZZ

moved. Before applying the plaster to the
pot the latter must be soaked in water for
one hour, or the plaster will not adhere.
If the pot is an old one it must be thorough-
ly scrubbed with a stiff brush in warm water
to remove all minute vegetable growths.
Before applying the plaster to the rim of the
pot and against the wall, the wall must be
thoroughly moistened or the plaster will not
adhere. When applying the plaster about
the rim of the pot, and against the wall, use
it thick and pasty and apply rapidly. After
the plaster has set, the board prop is re-
moved and work on another pot begun.
When all are in position the plaster is given

Fig. 3.

six hours to harden and dry before putting
on the rough ornamental coating, as the
weight of this might break away the pots
from the wall. This rough coating is ap-
plied with an old tea or table spoon well
greased with lard or suet fat, to prevent the
plaster from adhering to the spoon and
forming into an unmanageable mass. When
applying the plaster, small living branches
of vines can be imbedded in the plaster, and
before the entrance a small twig or rustic
branch is fastened for a perch.

After the plaster is thoroughly dry two
heavy coats of boiled linseed oil mixed with
a " dryer " are applied. The oil protects the
plaster from the actions of rains and the at-
mosphere. The pots can be painted with
a dull green or any of the grays or browns
that match the colors of the barks of our
native trees, or that correspond with the
grays or dull browns of our various earths.

Lichens and mosses can be fastened to the
houses by imbedding them in the plaster
when it is soft.

A hanging bird house can be constructed
of a nine-inch flower-pot and an old milk
pan, as shown in Fig. 2. A hole is made in
the bottom of the pot and pan large enough
for a turned picket or round stick to pass
through, so as to allow for the fastening of
the straw which is to form the thatched
roof. A small hole is bored through the

Fig. 4.

picket into which a cross pin of either iron
or wood is inserted. On this pin the bot-
tom of the pan rests, otherwise it would
slide down the picket. The sides of the
milk pan are punched full of holes to allow
the plaster to pass through and clinch, as it
will not adhere to the smooth surface of the
tin.

The pan is to be filled with earth, in which
may be planted Tradescantia, German ivy,
or moneywort, which will droop over and
twine in the branches of the "cat screen."
Some of the more hardy succulent plants,
such as house leeks, creeping Charley, Setn-
pervivum, etc., do well in dry locations.

This bird house can also be fastened to

34

Hints to Aiidiibon Workers.

a standard pole, as indicated by the dotted
lines in Fig. 2, when it is not desired to sus-
pend it. The cat screen is intended to
prevent cats from passing up the pole and
also to break the otherwise stiff and un-
graceful lines, and as a trellis for vines to
entwine on after having climbed or been
trained up the standard pole. The cat
screen is made of the branches of the black
alder, or birch, which are firmly bound to
the picket or standard pole, some two feet
below the bottom of the pan, against which
they press and radiate out as shown. The
best and most ornamental branches for
making the screens are red birch with the

cones on, spruce with its rich buds, and
sweet gum with its curious corky bark.

Other tasteful houses may be made by
covering ordinary wooden boxes with the
rough bark taken from old oak or chestnut
logs. This can be neatly tacked to a frame
about the boxes, so as to look like a section
of a log as in Figures 3 and 4.

The trouble expended in making homes
for our summer visitors will not be wasted.
They will amply repay by their sweet songs,
their bright ways, and their more important
services as insect destroyers, any effort which
we may put forth to show them that we are
their friends and to bring them close to us.

HINTS TO AUDUBON WORKERS.*

FIFTY COMMON BIRDS AND HOW TO KNOW THEM.

SNOW BUNTING ; SNOWFLAKE.

THIS is the true snowbird, and can
never be confounded with the junco.
The monastic juncos are closely shrouded
in slate-gray robes and cowls, only a short
under robe of white being marked off below
their breasts. The snowflakes, on the other
hand, as their name suggests, are mostly
white, although their backs are streaked
with dusky and black.

The juncos come about the house in
spring and fall^ and during the early snows,
but the snowbirds, timid and strange, fly
over the fields and are associated with
the wonderful white days of a country
winter, when the sky is white, the earth is
white, and the white trees bow silently
under the wand of winter till they stand
an enchanted snow forest. For, as the
flakes drift through the air, the snowbirds,
undulating between the white earth and
sky, seem like wandering spirits that are a
part of the all-pervading whiteness. Tho-
reau says, "The snow buntings and the tree
sparrows are the true spirits of the snow-

* Copyright, 1888, by Florence A. Merriam.

Storm. They are the animated beings that
ride upon it and have their life in it."*

Mr. Allen, in speaking of our winter birds,
says: "The beautiful snow bunting {^Plectro-
phenax nivalis, Meyer) is one of the largest,
and when whirling from field to field in
compact flocks, their white wings glisten-
ing in the sunlight, form one of the most
attractive sights of winter ; and most com-
monly appearing about the time of heavy
falls of snow, and disappearing during con-
tinued fine weather, there is in the popular
mind a degree of mystery attached to their
history, being the 'bad weather birds' of
the superstitious. Cold half-arctic coun-
tries being their chosen home, they only
favor us with their presence during those
short intervals when their food in the north-
ern fields is too deeply buried ; and being
strong of wing and exceedingly rapid in
flight, they can in a few hours leave the
plain for the mountain, or migrate hundreds
of miles to the northward. "f

* Thoreau's "Winter," p. 89.

f Ameiican jVaturalist, Vol. I., No. i, p. 43,
March, 1867.

Hints to Audubon Workers.

35

Late in December I have seen a flock
of them flying over the meadows with the
rhythmical undulating motion of the gold-
finches, twittering ter-ra-lee, te?--ra-lee, ter-
ra-lee as they v/ent. Now and then they
would light for a moment to pick at the
seeds appearing above the snow, but soon
they would fly on toward the north.

HAIRY WOODPECKER.

The habits of the woodpecker family are
more distinctive than those of almost any
group of the birds we have been consider-
ing. Of course the finches suggest a seed-
cracking bill, thickset bodies, and compar-
atively phlegmatic temperaments, that con-
trast strangely with the delicate bill, the
slender frame and nervous temper of the
warblers ; and the sparrows coming under
the finch group, emphasize the difference
by their dull colors and heavy flight. So
the families of thrushes, blackbirds, swal-
lows, and wrens stand apart ; but many of
their distinguishing features are found only
by careful study, while the most super-
ficial observer cannot fail to recognize the
family traits of the woodpeckers.

Woodpeckers — the very name proclaims
them unique. The vireo daintily picks his
measure-worm from the green leaves, and
steals birch bark for his hammock ; the
robin drags his fish-worm from its hiding
place in the sod, and carols his happiness
to every sunrise and sunset ; the sparrow
eats crumbs in the dooryard and builds his
nest in a sweet briar ; the thrushes chant
their matins among the moss and ferns of
the shadowy forest ; the ovenbirds and
chewinks "rustle" among the rich brown
leaves of the woods ; the goldfinch balances
himself on the pink thistle or yellow mul-
lein top, while he makes them "pay toll"
for his visit, and then saunters through the
air in the abandonment of blue skies and
sunshine. The meadowlark, looking for
breakfast, sends up his song from among
the cowslips ; the redwing " flutes his o-ka-

lee" over alders and cat-tails ;' the bobo-
link, forgetting everything else, rollicks
among the buttercups and daisies ; but the
woodpecker finds his larder under the hard
bark of the trees, and, oblivious to sunrise
and sunset, flowering marsh and laughing
meadow, clings close to the side of a tree,
as if the very sun himself moved round a
dead stub !

But who knows how much these grave
monomaniacs have discovered that is a
sealed book to all the world besides? Why
should we call them names ? They are phi-
losophers ! They have the secret of happi-
ness. Any bird could be joyous with plenty
of blue sky and sunshine, and the poets
from Chaucer to Wordsworth have relaxed
their brows at the sight of a daisy; but what
does the happy goldfinch know of the won-
ders of tree trunks, and what poet could
find inspiration in a dead stub on a bleak
November day ? Jack Frost sends both
thrush and goldfinch flying south, and the
poets shut their study doors in his face,
drawing their armchairs up to the hearth
while they rail at November. But the wise
hairy woodpecker clings to the side of a
tree and fluffing his feathers about his toes
makes the woods reverberate with his cheery
song — for it is a song, and bears an impor-
tant part in nature's orchestra. Its rhyth-
mical rat tap, tap, tap, tap, not only beats
time for the chickadees and nuthatches, but
is a reveille that sets all the winter blood
tingling in our veins. There the hardy
drummer stands, beating away on the wood
with all the enjoyment of a drum major!
How handsome he looks with the scarlet
cap on the back of his head, and what a
fine show the white central stripe makes
against the glossy black of his back !

Who can say how much this brave fellow
has learned from the wood spirits? What
does he care for rain or blinding storm?
He can never lose his way. No woodsman
need tell him how the hemlock branches
tip, or how to use a lichen compass.

36

Hints to Atidubon Workers.

Do you say the birds are gone, the leaves
have fallen, the bare branches rattle and the
fall rains have blackened the trees ? What
does he care? All this makes him rejoice !
The merry chickadee hears his shrill call
above the moaning of the wind and the
rattling of the branches, for our alchemist
is turning to his lichen workshop. The
sealed book whose pictures are seen only
by children and wood fairies opens at his
touch. The black unshaded tree trunks
turn into enchanted lichen palaces, rich with
green and gold of every varying tint. The
"pert fairies and the dapper elves" have
left their magic circles in the grass, and
trip lightly around the green, velvety moss
mounds so well suited for the throne of
their queen. Here they find the tiny
moss spears Lowell christened, "Arthurian
lances," and quickly arm themselves for
deeds of fairy valor. Here, too, are dainty
silver goblets from which they can quaff the
crystal globes that drop -one by one from
the dark moss high on the trees after rain.
And there — what wonders in fern tracery,
silver filigree and coral, for the fairy Guine-
vere !

But hark! the children are coming — and
off the grave magician flies to watch their
play from behind a neighboring tree trunk.
There they come, straight to his workshop,
and laugh in glee at the white chips he has
scattered on the ground. They are in
league with the fairies, too, and cast magic
spells over all they see. They spy the up-
turned roots of a fallen tree. It is a moun-
tain! And up they clamber, to overlook
their little world. And that pool left by the
fall rains. Ha! It is a lake! And away
they go, to cross it bravely on a bridge of
quaking moss. As they pass under the
shadow of a giant hemlock, and pick up
cones for playthings, the pile of dark red
sawdust at the foot of the tree catches their
eye, and they stand open-mouthed as the
oldest child tells of a long ant procession
she saw there one day, and how each tiny

worker came to the door to drop its borings
from its jaws. How big their eyes get at the
story! If the woodpecker could only give
the yellow hammer's sequel to it! But soon
they have found a new delight. A stem of
basswood seeds whirls through the air to
their feet. They all scramble for it. What
a pity they have no string! The last one
they found was a kite and a spinning air-
top for a day's play. But this — never mind
— there it goes up in the air dancing and
whirling like a gay young fairy treading the
mazes with the wind. "How pretty! Just
see this piece of moss!" And so they go
through the woods, till the brown beech
leaves shake with their laughter, and the
gray squirrels look out of their round win-
dows in the tree trunks to see who goes by,
and the absorbed magician — who can tell
how much fun he steals from his lofty post
of observation, to make him content with
his stub !

Why should he fly south when every
day brings him some secret of the woods,
or some scene like this that his philoso-
pher's stone can turn to happiness ? Let
us proclaim him the sage of the birds ! If
he could only talk ! The children would
gather about him for tales of the wood
sprites; the student of trees would learn
facts and figures enough to store a book;
and the mechanic! Just watch him once
as he works !

A master of his trade, he has various
methods. One day in September he flew
past me with a loud scream, and when I
came up to him was hard at work excavat-
ing. His claws were fast in the bark on the
edge of the hole, and he seemed to be half
clinging to it, half lying against it. His stiff
tail quills helped to brace him against the
tree, and he drilled straight down, making
the bark fly with his rapid strokes. When
the hole did not clear itself with his blows
he would give a quick scrape with his bill
and drill away again. Suddenly he stopped,
picked up something, and flew up on a

Hints to Audubon Workers.

37

branch with it. He had found what he
was after. And what a relish it was ! I
could almost see him holding it on his
tongue.

Another day in November he had to work
harder for his breakfast, and perhaps it was
fortunate. The night before there had been
a sharp snowstorm from the north, so that
in passing through the woods all the trees
and undergrowth on the south of me were
pure white, while on the other side the gray
trees with all their confusion of branches,
twigs and noble trunks stood out in bold
relief. The snow that had fallen made it
rather cold standing still, and I would have
been glad to do part of Mr. Hairy's work
myself. But he needed no help. He march-
ed up the side of the stub, tapping as he
went, and when his bill gave back the sound
for which he had been listening, he began
work without ado. The bark must have
been harder or thicker than the other, for
instead of boring straight through, he loos-
ened it by drilling first from one side and
then the other. When he could not get it
off in this way, he went above, and then
below, to try to start it, so that, before he
got what he wanted, he had stripped off
pieces several inches long and fully two
across. He was so much engrossed that I
came to the very foot of the stub without
disturbing him.

Last summer, in going through the edge
of the woods, I was attracted by the cries of
a woodpecker, and creeping up discovered
a mother feeding her half grown baby. She
flew off when she saw me, probably warning
the little fellow to keep still, for he stayed
where she left him for five or ten minutes
as if glued to the branch, crouching close,
and hardly daring to stir even his head.
Then, as she did not come back, and he saw
no reason to be afraid of me, he flew off in-
dependently to another limb, and marched
up the side arching his neck and bowing
his head as much as to say, "Just look at
me now!"

DOWNY WOODPECKER.

The downy looks so much like the hairy
that it would be easy to confound them if
it were not for the difference in size. The
downy is fully two inches shorter than the
hairy. As you see him on a tree at a dis-
tance, the white stripe of his back is
bounded by black, or as Thoreau expresses
it, "his cassock is open behind, showing
his white robe." Above this is a large
check of black and white, and on a line
with the ends of his wings, a fine black
and white check, while, if he is an adult
male, a scarlet patch on the back of his
head sets off his black and white dress.
Seen only a rod away as I see him from
the window, clinging to the side of the
tree pecking at the suet hung there for
him, the white stripe of his back is
marked off above by a black line which
goes across to meet the black of his should-
ers. From the middle of this another black
line goes at right angles, straight up to-
ward his head, so carrying on the line of
the white stripe, and forming the dividing
line of the two white blocks. This perpen-
dicular line meets the point of a black V
so broad as to be almost a straight line. On
this V lies the red patch of the back of his
head. Over his eye a white line runs back
to meet the red patch. What, at a distance,
looked like fine ducking at the base of his
wings, proves to be wavy white lines run-
ning across the black.

The downy comes about us here with the
same familiarity as the hairy, and it was
only a few weeks ago that the cook brought
me one that had gotten caught between the
sashes of her window. He was scared,
poor little fellow, and wriggled about try-
ing to force my hands open, so when I had
taken a look at his pretty brown eyes, I
carried him to the front door and off he
flew to the nearest tree, where he began
pecking away at the bark as calmly as if
nothing had happened!

38

Hmts to Audubon Workers.

On New Year's morning, as we sat at
breakfast looking out on the storm, exclaim-
ing at the twigs and limbs that blackened
the snow, and watching the ice-covered
branches bowing and tossing in the wind,
I caught sight of a downy woodpecker work-
ing away on a tree in front of the window as
serenely as if it were a balmy summer morn-
ing. He hugged the trunk very closely,
however, and circled about slowly, pecking
at the bark in a cautious manner as if he
knew very well the best way to work in a
wind. His bravery was contagious, for soon
after a partridge — more properly the ruffed
grouse — came to the corn boxes in front of
the window for his breakfast, and only
scudded back under the evergreens to avoid
a falling branch. We could see the gray
squirrels racing about in the edge of the
woods, but they did not venture back to
their corn till the next morning, when the
storm was less violent.

Of the familiarity of the downy, Thoreau
says: "I stole up within five or six rods of
a pitch pine behind which a downy wood-
pecker was pecking. From time to time
he hopped round to the side toward me,
and observed me without fear. They are
very confident birds, not easily scared, but
inclined to keep the other side of the bough
from you, perhaps."* Here, the downies
are even more fearless. I have stood by
the foot of a stub on which a hairy was
drilling, and watched a downy hunting over
a sapling less than ten feet away. I have
also made a great noise sweeping the snow
off the piazza without disturbing him in the
least, though he was eating suet only a rod
away.

Under date of Jan. 8, 1854, however,
Thoreau says: "Stood within a rod of a
downy woodpecker on an apple-tree. How
curious and exciting the blood-red spot on
its hind head! I ask why it is there, but
no answer is rendered by these snow-clad
fields. It is so close to the bark I do not

* Thoreau's "Winter," p. 312.

see its feet. * * * It is briskly and incess-
antly tapping all round the dead limbs, but
hardly twice in a place, as if to sound the
tree, and so see if it has any worm in it, or
perchance to start them. How much he
deals with the bark of trees, all his life long
tapping and inspecting it. He it is that
scatters these fragments of bark and lichens
about on the snow at the base of trees.
What a lichenist he must be! Or rather per-
haps it is fungi make his favorite study, for
he deals most with dead limbs. How briskly
he glides up or drops himself down a
limb, creeping round and round, and hop-
ping from limb to limb, and now flitting
with a rippling sound of his wings to another
tree."*

WHITE-BELLIED NUTHATCH ; DEVIL-DOWN-
HEAD.

Crossbills, snow buntings, bluejays, pine
finches, pine grosbeaks, goldfinches, and
sometimes other birds visit us here during
the winter, but there are four little friends
that stay by us through all the goings and
comings, never deserting us, no matter how
long the winter. They form a novel quar-
tette, for the chickadee whistles the soprano,
the nuthatch sings his meagre alto through
his nose, and the two woodpeckers — the
hairy and the downy — beat their drums as
if determined to drown the other parts.
But they are a merry band, with all their
oddities, and wander about giving concerts
wherever they go, till the woods seem to be
alive again, and we forget that we have
ever missed the summer birds.

When the drums get too much absorbed
in their tree trunks, the alto and air go out
serenading by themselves, and who knows
what gossip they indulge in about the grave
magicians' day dreams, or how gaily they
swear to stand by each other and never be
put down by these drums ! They are old
chums, and work together as happily as Mr,

* Thoreau's "Winter," p. 141-142.

Hints to Audubon Workers.

39

and Mrs. Spratt, the chickadee whistling his
merry c/iick-a-dee-dee, dee, dee as he cHngs to
a twig in the tree top, and the nuthatch
answering back with a jolly little yank,
yank, ya?ik, as he hangs, head down, on
the side of a tree trunk. What a comical
figure he makes there ; trying to get a look
at you, he throws his head back and
stretches himself away from the tree, till
you wonder he does not fall off. His black
cap and slate-blue coat are almost hidden,
he raises his white throat and breast up so
high. " Devil-down-head " he is called from
his habit of walking down the trees, for in-
stead of backing straight down or sidling
down backward as the woodpeckers do, he
prefers to obey the old adage and "follow
his nose." A lady forgetting his name
once aptly described him to me as "that
little upside-down bird." He will run
along the underside of a branch with as
much coolness as a fly would cross the
ceiling.

One of his popular names is "sapsucker,"
for our nuthatch has a sweet tooth, and
when the farmers tap the trees in spring he
"happens round " at the sugar bush to see
what sort of maple syrup they are going
to have. He tests it well, taking a sip at
"the calf" where it oozes out at the gash-
ing of the axe, tasting it as it dries along
the spile, and finally on the rim of the
buckets. But his most interesting name is
— nuthatch! How does he come by it?
That seems a riddle. Some cold Novem-
ber day when you are overcome by ennui,
and think there is nothing left in the woods
to interest you, put by your melancholy
longing for summer, and in its place put
on a thick pair of boots, and go to visit the
beeches. In their tops are the nuthatches,
for they have deserted the tree trunks
for a frolic. They are beechnutting! And
that with as much zest as a party of school
children starting out with baskets and pails
on a holiday. Watch them now ! What
clumsy work they make of it, trying to

cling to the beechnut burr and get the
nuts out, at the same time. It's a pity the
chickadee can't give them a few lessons !
They might better have kept to their tree
trunks. Think what a sorry time Mrs. Spratt
would have had, had she tried to eat the
lean ! But they persist, and after tumbling
off from several burrs, finally snatch out a
nut and fly off with it as unconcernedly as
if they had been dancing about among the
twigs all their days. Away they go, till they
come to a maple or some other rough-
barked tree, when they stick the nut in be-
tween the ridges of the bark, hammer it
down, and then, when it is so tightly wedged
that the slippery shell cannot get away from
them, by a few sharp blows they hatch the
///// from the tree ! Through my glass I
watched a number of them this fall, and
they all worked in about the same way,
though some of them wedged their nuts
into cracks or holes in the body of the tree,
instead of in the bark. One of them
pounded so hard he spread his tail and
almost upset himself.

The fun was so great a downy wood-
pecker tried it, and of all the big school
boys ! The excitement seemed to turn his
head, and he attacked a beechnut burr as
if he would close with it in mortal combat !

Though without any real song, the nut-
hatch has a delightful variety of notes. In
May his nasal he?ik-a, he7ik-a, henk-a comes
through the soft green woods as a pecu-
liarly peaceful caressing note, and his gentle
yang, yang, yang, is full of woodsy sug-
gestions. In the last of June, my note-book
records the sweet yah-ha of the nuthatch,
the %2scv& yang, yang, yang, and his nearest
approach to a song, the rapid yah-ha-ha-
ha-ha-ha. This is probably what Thoreau
gives as "To-what, what, what, what."* He
records it in March. In August and Septem-
ber the Vi-di^dX yank is sometimes run into an
accelerated half song. Thoreau gives the
ordinary winter note as quah, quah, and
* "Early Spring in Massachusetts," p. 70.

40

A Gnatcatchers Strategy.

while that expresses the mellowness of the
note on some days better than yank, they
are both descriptive, but though different
notes may predominate in given months, I
heard this morning — January i8 — from a
flock of nuthatches, every one of their notes
I have ever heard at any time of year.

The nuthatch nests in holes in trees or
stumps, and its lightly spotted eggs, six or
eight in number, are laid on soft felty lining

I am often surprised by discovering the
nuthatch at work in places where I despair
of finding any birds. One day in Decem-
ber when I went out the snow-covered
woods seemed to have fallen into the silent
slumber of a child. Not a breath came to
blow the white cap from the vireo's nest, or
scatter the heaped-up snow resting like
foam on the slender twigs. The snow that
had drifted up the side of the tree trunks
clung as it had fallen. In silence the
branches arched under their freight ; the
rich ochraceous beech leaves hung in

masses under the snow — not a leaf rustled.
Overhead the twigs outlined in snow
made exquisite filigree against the pale blue
sky. But suddenly, as the forest seemed
to be holding its breath, the yank of the
nuthatch came first from one tree and then
another. A family of them were looking
for their dinner in the white woods. When
the snow covered the upper side of a
branch, they ran along upside-down on the
under side ; when the south side of a tree
trunk was white they ran, head down, on
the north side; and there, too, was the little
drummer — a downy woodpecker, flickering
from tree to tree — even here, the merry
band was finding a place for itself in nature.
As I passed on, fainter and fainter came
the note of the nuthatch. I looked back
through the woods; the blue sky was veiled
by snow clouds, but behind them shone the
southern sun, pervading them with that
wondrous radiance of white light that only
a winter sky can show.

Florence A. Merriam.

A GNATCATCHER'S STRATEGY.

ALMOST every young naturalist knows
what a pretty home the little blue-
gray gnatcatcher {PoUoptila ccEriilea, Linn.)
constructs. Each pair, after mating, seek
some tree with a grayish bark, usually an
oak, maple or apple, and finding a horizon-
tal limb or convenient fork, they begin their
nest, building it principally from hair and
the fine fibres of various plants which they
weave very closely and compactly together.
Finally they cover the whole with a coat of
lichens, fastening them on with the finest
of wool or the silk of spiders' webs. This
lichen covering serves the useful purpose
of a mask, rendering the color of the nest
almost exactly that of the bark of the tree
on which it is built, thus hiding it from the
keen eye of the young oologist walking be-

neath, or the keener eye of the crow or
hawk flying above. But there is one eye
sharp enough to detect it. For no matter
how deep and daik the ravine in which a
nest is hidden away ; no matter what aid
of nature has been called into use in ren-
dering it inconspicuous to the view of other
animals, necessity seems to lend a preterna-
tural sharpness to the vision of the female
cowbird, enabling her to discover, whenever
needed, a safe place of deposit for an Qgg,
destined to become at no distant day an
orphan which will be a heavy burden to its
foster parents.

The nest of the blue-gray gnatcatcher
when completed, is usually very small, and
is cylindrical in form, not hemispherical,
like that of most other birds. One which

A Gnatcatcher s Strategy,

41

contained five eggs, taken on the 2d of
last May, was but 5^ inches in circumfer-
ence by 2^ inches in length, and weighed
only 3.7 grams. But the cowbird cares
nothing for the size or form of the chosen
asylum for her young. If it is only large
enough for one t.g<g, it is sufficient for her
wants, and she forthwith appropriates it to
her use without even a "by your leave " to
the rightful owners. And so, very often,
among four or five delicate little gnatcatch-
ers, there is found a large chuffy youngster,
whose demand for food is incessant, and if
supplied in sufficient quantity, he will in a
day or two fill the entire nest, and smother
beneath his greater bulk the lives of the
lawful occupants. It is one of those numer-
ous cases of a struggle for existence in
which the most overbearing, ugliest, and
strongest survives, instead of the fittest.

However, I suppose that the modern evo-
lutionist would say, that in this case ugli-
ness and brute strength are necessary quali-
ties of the "fittest," and that nature has
ordained that the cowbirds shall increase
in numbers as the "Jay Goulds" of to-day
grow in wealth, only at the expense of their
weaker brethren.

But one — or rather two — cowbirds' eggs
laid last season did not hatch, and it was of
them that I started to write. On the 2 2d
of April, while out for a walk, I discovered
a pair of gnatcatchers building in a maple
tree about thirty feet from the ground. A
week later on passing near the spot, I saw
that the nest had assumed massive pro-
portions for one of that species, and on
climbing up to investigate, found that it con-
tained a single cowbird's fgg. The owners,
however, had not deserted it, for they soon
appeared, circling rapidly around, and ut-
tering their shrill cries of distress. I left
them immediately, merely supposing that
they were young birds, not fully up to the

times in nest building, and therefore had
formed a large, loosely-constructed nest, in-
stead of a small compact one, as is usually
the case.

On the 5th of May I again visited the
tree, and found that the birds had aban-
doned the nest without laying in it, and were
building a new one in the top of a tall oak
a short distance away. Removing the old
nest carefully I carried it home in order to
compare more closely its size with the one
taken a few days before. Judge of my sur-
prise when, on examining it thoroughly, I
found that it was a double nest, or rather a
"two-story" one. The lower part, or first
floor, was neatly and closely built, and in it
was found a second cowbird's egg. It had
evidently been laid shortly before the nest
had reached the usual size of such struc-
tures, and the builders, on discovering it,
had immediately set to work and covered it
entirely over, and then built up the sides of
their house about 2}4 inches higher. But,
alas, for the expectations of our feathered
friends ! No sooner had the second floor
neared completion than Mrs. Cowbird paid
them another visit, and left behind her a
reminder in the shape of a new &gg. It was
too much for bird endurance. They de-
serted in disgust the home over which they
had spent so many anxious moments, and
set to work to build a new one, in which,
let us hope, they reared their little family
unmolested by unwelcome guests. On
measuring carefully the double nest I found
its .circumference to be 9^4 inches; its
length, 4^ inches; and its weight 12 grams,
or about ^y'i times that of the one first
taken. The upper 2^ inches was very
loosely constructed, and had evidently been
built in a hurry to meet the exigencies
of the case. The new nest in the oak was
too high for close observation, but seemed
from the ground to be only of normal size.

W. S. Blatchley.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The registered membership of the Society on
Jan. 31, 1SS8, was 43,683, showing an increase of
696 members during the month, due to the follow-
ing sources:

New York 284 Missouri 13

Massachusetts 114 Ohio 19

New Hampshire 14 Michigan 13

New Jersey 59 Rhode Island 2

Maine 26 California i

Connecticut 4 District of Columbia i

Ver.-nont 6 Minnesota 13

Pennsylvania 17 North Carolina 30

Maryland 2 South Carolina 8

Kentucky 13 Texas i

Kansas 2 Dakota i

Iowa 39 Colorado i

Illinois II Canada 2

C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

THE DOG AND THE UMBRELLA.

We had all told a story illustrating some traits of
•different animals, or recounting some curious fact
about them, all but one. He was an old gentleman
of almost eighty, but his eye was not dim, and if his
natural force was abated, he was yet a marvel of
physical vigor and of mental strength. His remin-
iscences were always interesting, many of them fas-
cinating. He told us a story about a dog.

"About the year 1875," he said, "I visited in an
Illinois city and met with this adventure. I was
walking along a suburban street, where there was
but a single house beyond the corner I had passed.
I was carrying my umbrella in my left hand, untied,
but not unfolded. In the middle of the street I met
a large bulldog approaching. I am an admirer of
the well-developed bulldog, and this one was very
handsome. As we neared each other I smiled upon
him and said: 'You're a fine fellow.' The next instant
I was on my back on the ground, his feet on my
breast, and his face in mine. There was no one
near and all I could do was to call 'murder' as loud
as I could. The dog instantly retreated, going on
his way as before the attack. I arose from the
ground, and taking up my umbrella, was about to
resume my way, when the dog looked back, and see-
ing me up, turned and rushed at me again. My
action was the instinct of the moment. Presenting
my umbrella as a bayonet, I rushed upon him with a
loud outcry. It brought us close to each other — not
three feet apart — when lo! he turned and fled.

"My coat was destroyed, my hand scratched, but I
suffered no other injury. Relating the circumstance
at the dinner-table, my friends persuaded me that I

ought to inform the authorities. I did so, but leaving
that afternoon heard no more about it for that time.
"But afterward I learned that the dog was not
vicious, but that he had a dislike to an umbrella.
Having in the first onslaught knocked it out of my
hands he withdrew from me; when I took it up he
renewed the attack; and when I charged upon him
fear overcame him and he fled. I cannot tell how
sorry I was that I had informed upon him, nor how-
glad that he had escaped punishment and lived to
protest against other umbrellas than mine."

Mrs. Geo. Archibald.

AN ACCOMPLISHED BLUEJAY.

An old colored man in this place owns a bluejay
that he raised from a nestling and to which he is
very much attached. Old Joe's jay cuts up some
very funny capers that are quite astonishing to one
that knows nothing more of him than what is seen
of him in the fields; he is an excellent whistler and
quite an imitator, he can call the dog so that you
would be sure it was some person whistling for him,
and, in addition to this, he can imitate the whine of
the dog, the chirp of other birds, and in fact the cry
of a baby. Joe lets his bird loose in his room, and
the other day while he was nailing something, he
stepped out for a few minutes, laying down a handful
of nails. On his return to the room not a nail was
to be found, nor have they been discovered up to
date. When found they will probably be in places
where no one would think of looking for them.

Greenville, Pa. W. T. AlAN.

CLOUDS OF BIRDS.

The writer of "Under the Rays of the Aurora
Borealis" gives a vivid picture of a scene in the Arctic
regions. The steamer was passing the northern
shore of the Scandinavian peninsula, the great frozen
Nortli on the one side, and on the other what seems
a continuous mountain wall, falling straight into the
sea.

"At length we round the cape of the peninsula, the
famous bird-mountain Svaerholtklub, jet black in
color, one of the most remarkable sights in the world.

"Along every one of the innumerable terraces,
caused by the stratiform formation of the mountain,
and all of which run nearly horizontal, white birds
sit in rows, like the porcelain jars in a druggist's
shop, one above the other, so close that the mountain
in many places has the appearance of being covered
with snow.

"A jet of smoke issues from the port side, and the

The Audubon Note Book.

43

next moment the report of a gun reverberates through
the air. In a second we gaze on one of the grandest
and most marvellous spectacles it is given human
eyes to behold.

"From every terrace and cavity in the mountain
snow-white birds issue in millions — looking at first
like a gigantic foaming torrent — which rise and de-
scend in enormous flocks, with deafening cries, and
so great is their number that at times mountain, skyt
and sun are obscured."

THEN AND NOW.

Editor A udubon Magazine:

Looking over the "Recollections of Mary Somer-
ville," the most distinguished of scientific women in
the last generation, I observed her statement as to
birds, which is so much in the line of your valuable
magazine that I venture to copy it:

"We fed the birds when the ground was covered
with snow, and opened our windows at breakfast time
to let in the robins, who would hop on the table to
pick up crumbs. The quantity of singing birds was
very great, for the farmers and gardeners were less
cruel and avaricious than they are now — tho' poorer.
They allowed our pretty songsters to share in the
bounties of Providence.

"The shortsighted cruelty, too prevalent now,
brings its own punishment, for, owing to the reck-
less destruction of birds, the equilibrium of nature
is disturbed, and insects increase to such an extent
as materially to affect every description of crop. This
summer (1872) when I was at Sorrento, even the
olives, grapes and oranges were seriously injured by
the caterpillars — a disaster which I attribute entirely
to the ruthless havoc made among every kind of bird. "

E.

A CURIOUS FLOATING ISLAND.

Henry's Lake is one of the wonders of the Rocky
Mountains. Directly on the summit of the conti-
nental divide, in a depression or gap called Targee
Pass, is a body of water that was given the above
name in honor of an old trapper who made his home
on its borders for several years in the enjoyment of
sweet solitude.

Henry's Lake is oval in shape and has an area of
forty square miles. It is entirely surrounded by what
Seems to be solid land, and one readily concludes
that it has no outlet. On the west side lies a level
meadow, which floats on the water, and the hidden
outlet is beyond it. Near the rim of the basin, which
at no distant day must have been the pebbly beach
of the lake, is a shallow pool, out from which flows
a creek — the source of the north fork of Snake River.

A species of blue joint grass of luxuriant growth
floats upon the water and sends out a mass of large

hollow white roots, which form a mat so thick and
firm that a horse can walk with safety over the nat-
ural pontoon. The decayed vegetation adds to the
thickness of the mat and forms a mould in which
weeds, willows and small trees take root and grow.
Back from the new border the new land is firm and
supports pine and aspen trees of small growth.

An island of the same turf formation floats about
the lake. The floating body of land is circular and
measures 300ft. in diameter. A willow thicket thrives
in the center, interspersed with small aspens and
dwarf pines. The little trees catch the breeze and
are the sails that carry the island on its orbit. One
evening it was within a stone's throw of our camp.
At daylight next morning it was five miles away. —
Cor. San Francisco Examiner.

The Humane Journal, of Chicago, is a bright
little publication, and fresh and breezy as becomes a
journal of established position and recognized worth.
Its illustrations are really of a high order of merit
and the literature in good tone, and written to good
purpose. Mr. Albert W. Landon, the editor, has
some very pleasant and appreciative words in the
January number, for Mesdames Cause, Meiser and
other helpers of the journal, and the cause it repre-
sents. The ladies above mentioned have just returned
from a tour of Michigan, where they have been stirring
up the clergy, the people and the press to practical
efforts for the suppression of cruelty to the dumb
beast.

Measures for the collection of the funds for the
proposed Audubon monument have been organized
and the design selected. We hoped to have been
able to give a rough sketch ot the design m our cur-
rent number, but the absence from the city of Pro-
fessor Egleston, President of the Central Committee,
has caused delay in getting the electrotypes finished.
The general design is a Runic cross, in bluestone,
the surface of which will be relieved by figures of
typical birds and other allusions to Audubon's labors.
The base is to be ornamented by a life-sized me-
dallion of the great naturalist.

A Nev^ Year's Offering for the Birds. — An
old custom among farmers is to put on the ridge-
poles of their barns on New Year's day a sheaf of
wheat with heavy heads of grain, intended as a
peace offering to the birds. Some of these offerings
were seen last New Year's day on New Jersey barns,
with flocks of small birds fluttering about them.

We are indebted to G. Brown Goode, Esq., of the
National Museum, and Assistant Secretary of the
Smithsonian Institution, at Washington, for the cut
of Professor Baird, which has been used to illustrate
our notice of that distinguished naturalist.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass.,
2nd mo., 20, 1886.

Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost vi'ish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Eorest atid Stream :

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, N. Y. , )

Feb. 22, 1886. [

Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1S86.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society. Yery sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. sgTH Street, \
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. \
Editor Forest and Stream :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Streaiii :

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE MOCKINGBIRD.

( J\[imus poh'glottos (LiN.\.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

APRIL, 1888.

No. 3.

THE MOCKINGBIRD

SWEETEST of all the song birds of
America, the Mockingbird stands
without a rival, perhaps in the world. All
who are familiar with its melody and have
had an opportunity to compare its powers
with those of Old World songsters, agree
that it surpasses even the famous nightin-
gale in the richness and beauty of its strains.
Nuttall says: "With the dawn of morning,
while yet the sun lingers below the blushing
horizon, our sublime songster, in his native
wilds, mounted on the topmost branch of a
tall bush or tree in the forest, pours out his
admirable song, which amidst the multitude
of notes from all the warbling host, still rises
preeminent, so that his solo is heard alone,
and all the rest of the musical choir appear
employed in mere accompaniments to this
grand actor in the sublime opera of nature.
Nor IS his talent confined to imitation; his
native notes are also bold, full, and perpet-
ually varied, consisting of short expressions
of a few variable syllables, interspersed with
imitations, and uttered with great emphasis
and volubility, and sometimes for half an
hour at a time, with undiminished ardor.
These native strains bear a considerable
resemblance to those of the brown thrush,
to whom he is so nearly related in form,
habits and manners; but, like rude from cul-
tivated genius, his notes are distinguished
by the rapidity of their delivery, their va-
riety, sweetness and energy. As if con-
scious of his unrivaled powers of song, and
animated by the harmony of his own voice.

his music is, as it were, accompanied by
chromatic dancing and expressive gestures;
he spreads and closes his light fanning wings,
expands his silvered tail, and with buoyant
gayety and enthusiastic ecstacy he sweeps
around, and mounts and descends into the
air from his lofty perch, as his song swells
to loudness, or dies away in sinking whis-
pers. While thus engaged, so various is his
talent, that it might be supposed a trial of
skill from all the assembled birds of the
country; and so perfect are his imitations
that even the sportsman is at times deceiv-
ed, and sent in quest of birds that have no
existence around him."

The song of the Mockingbird is not lim-
ited to the hours of daylight. He sings by
night as well, and as sweetly as in the full
glare of the sun, his clear full notes being
most often heard after the rising of the
moon. Indeed, according to Wilson, the
hunters in the Southern States, when setting
out on an excursion by night, know as soon
as they hear the Mockingbird begin to sing,
that the moon is rising.

His wonderful powers of mimicry are so
well known that it is unnecessary to refer to
them at length, but we may quote a fragment
of Wilson's graphic description. He says:
" In his domesticated state, when he com-
mences his career of song, it is impossible
to stand by uninterested. He whistles for
the dog; Caesar starts up, wags his tail, and
runs to meet his master. He squeaks out
like a hurt chicken, and the hen hurries

48

The Mockins^bird.

about with hanging wings and bristled
feathers, clucking to protect its injured
brood. The barking of the dog, the mew-
ing of the cat, the creaking of a passing
wheelbarrow, follow with great truth and
rapidity. He repeats the tune taught him
by his master, tho' of considerable length,
fully and faithfully. He runs over the quiv-
erings of the canary, and the clear whistlings
of the Virginia nightingale, or redbird, with
such superior execution and effect, that the
mortified songsters feel their own inferior-
ity, and become altogether silent; while he
seems to triumph in their defeat by redoubl-
ing his exertions.'

The Mockingbird is essentially a crea-
ture of the South, and his center of abund-
ance is in the Southern States. It is there,
as Audubon so delightfully remarks, that
the Mockingbird must be seen to find him
at his best. Still, he sometimes journeys
during the summer months as far north as
Massachusetts, and has been found breed-
ing in the Connecticut Valley near Spring-
field. In the Southern States the Mocking-
bird is a resident, and may be found at all
seasons of the year. Those which visit the
North stay with us only long enough to rear
their brood, and then hastily retreat to
warmer climes.

In its Southern home this species is tame
and familiar, seeming to regard man as a
friend and protector rather than an enemy.
It sometimes builds its nest near the house,
and, Audubon tells us, lives during the
winter about the gardens and outhouses,
where it may be often seen perched on the
roofs and on the chimney tops.

The mating season in Louisiana is March
or early April, and the nests are begun im-
mediately after, so that the young are fre-
quently ready to fly by the last of April.
Further north they are somewhat later in
making their appearance. The nest is built
not far above the ground, sometimes upon
it, and is carelessly constructed with but
slight attempt at concealment. In some re-

spects it resembles that of the catbird, being
composed . externally of coar.se twigs and
weed stems, and lined with fibrous roots.

The eggs are from four to six in number,
and are light green in color, dotted and
blotched with brownish black. Two and
sometimes three broods are raised in a
season.

If the female leaves her nest for any pur-
pose, and finds on her return that the eggs
have been handled, she summons her mate
by a mournful note and exhibits much dis-
tress, but so far from deserting it, as some
people suppose, she sits with redoubled
assiduity.

Except during the winter the food of the
Mockingbird consists almost entirely of in-
sects, but when cold weather has deprived
them of this food they turn their attention
to the berries, feeding on those of the cedar,
the Virginia creeper, the holly, smilax, sour
gum and others.

The Mockingbird is easily reared if taken
from the nest quite young, and becomes not
only a sweet and constant songster, but an
affectionate pet as well. Instances are
known where they have lived about the
house without being confined, flying away
from time to time to feed and associate with
their kind, but returning toward night to
their home, where they saluted their owner
with every demonstration of delight and
affection.

The Mockingbird is from nine to ten
inches in length, and the spread of its wings
measures thirteen inches. The upper parts
of the body are dark gray, tinged here and
there with brown. A spot of white exists
on the primaries, making a large patch on
the closed wing. The wing coverts are
tipped with white ; the three outer tail
feathers are mostly white. The under parts
are brownish white, palest on chin and belly.
Bill, legs and feet are black. Iris yellow.
The female differs from the male only in
having the colors a little duller, and the
white patch on the wing smaller.

HINTS TO AUDUBON WORKERS.*

FIFTY COMMON

IRDS AND HOW TO KNOW THEM,
APPENDIX.

AS the birds are hurrying north now,
and new forms are seen and new
songs heard every day, it may be a help to
summarize the facts gathered about our
"fifty common birds," so that you can re-
cognize them more readily in the field, and
can get clues to the other birds, common
and uncommon, that are still to be studied.

You have probably noticed already that
the birds migrate at night, and may have
speculated on their reasons — the greater
prominence of the landscape sign posts,
such as rivers and mountains, in the night;
the fact that the pot-hunter and the wicked
small boy are securely tucked between the
sheets then, so that only the kindly astro-
nomer notes their flight; the greater cool-
ness of the night air; and— who can say
that the Dipper points no guiding North
Star for them ?

But wherever speculation leads you, it
does not affect the course of the birds, and
when morning comes you will find that each
bird, or flock of birds, is looking for break-
fast in its own favorite locality — not always
the sort of spot it chooses to nest in, but
one marked enough to show individual
taste. As this suggests, of course, the true
way to see all the birds that pass is to go
carefully through all the varieties of forest
and field — dense woods, clearing, marsh and
meadow. But if you have not time for this
every day, the best way is to have a short
beat and go over it, if possible, every morn-
ing and evening. Take the sunny side of
an open woods, or even an old orchard or
garden, and if you watch closely, you will
see an astonishing number of old friends
before the season is over. And if you know
only a few birds, spring is the best time to
make new friends. It is altogether easier
than fall. The songs are in their perfection,

* Copyright, i8S8, by Florence A. Merriam.

and plumage is most strongly marked. In
the fall, the old birds come back more in-
tent on talking than singing; and then, be-
sides wearing motley themselves, bring with
them a troop of youngsters that may be
masquerading for all you could guess of
their ancestry, unless you knew the secret
of their dominos.

Moreover, in April and May the birds
give us an excuse for getting out into the
spring, and their jubilant happiness covers
any poetic lapse, or childish exuberance
of spirit our staid blasd selves may be star-
tled into. Spring ! — let the poets sing of it,
and listen to them if you will, but you can
never know what they mean or what spring
is until you have felt the first tremulous
warble of the bluebird, and picked wild
flowers in the hermitage of the "swamp
angel."

General Family Characteristics of Birds
Treated.

woodpeckers.

Plumage, largely black and white. Bill, strong

and long for drilling through bark and wood. Flight,

noisy, flickering. Call, loud and shrill. Song,

wanting, except as they drum on trees, etc. Habits,

phlegmatic, most of time spent clinging, erect, to

sides of tree trunks. (Exception, yellowhammer;

Plumage, brownish, instead of black and white; nest

lower;. song, a loud full trill; habits, more hke ground

woodpecker; haunts ant hills, fields and fence posts,

etc.)

flycatchers.

Dull, gray birds with big heads and shoulders.
Males and females similar in plumage. Bills hooked
at end. Songless or with short song (wood pewee,
three notes). Habits, hunt by lying in wait for in-
sects and then springing at them with nervous
spasmodic movements. (Exception, kingbird: Large-
ly silent and motionless when not watching for food.)

BLACKBIRDS AND ORIOLES.

Plumage, striking, black prominent. (Exception,

50

Hints to Audubon Workers.

meadowlark.) Females generally duller, and in some
cases smaller than males. Bills and claws, strong;
bills long and conical. (Exceptions, bobolink and
cowbird, whose bills are short and conical.)

Sl'ARROWS AND FINCHES.

Fine songsters. Bills short, stout, cone-shaped,
for cracking seeds.

Sparrows — Comparatively small, dull plumaged
birds, with striped backs, males and females similar.

Finches — Bright plumaged birds, females duller
than males.

VIREOS.

Small olive-green or gray-backed, white-breasted

birds. Bills, long and slender, for holding worms.
Songs, loud. Nests, pensile and delicate.

WARBLERS.

Plumage, mostly variegated and brilliant. Fe-
males generally duller than males. Song, in many
cases only a trill. Food, insects. Habits, nervous,
restless.

THRUSHES.

Brown-backed, white-breasted birds, size of robin,
or smaller. Bills, long and slender, fitted for worm
diet. Habits, phlegmatic; pensive birds, fond of sit-
ting motionless on lower branches of small trees.
Finest of American songsters.

ARBITRARY CLASSIFICATIONS OF BIRDS DESCRIBED IN THE FOREGOING ARTICLE.

I. Birds Found in Certain Localities.

1. About or near Houses. — Robin, chipping sparrow,

song sparrow, junco, chimney swift, crow black-
bird, warbling vireo, yellow-bellied woodpecker,
tree sparrow, fox sparrow, brown creeper, oriole,
phoebe, purple finch, chickadee, catbird, red-
eyed vireo, nuthatch.

2. In Gardens a}id Orchards. — Catbird, bluebird,

waxwing, cuckoo, oriole, kingbird, kinglets,
hummingbird, warbhng vireo, yellow-throated
vireo, yellow-bellied woodpecker, purple finch,
goldfinch, summer yellowbird, warblers, cow-
bird, least flycatcher, yellowhammer.

3. In Fields and Meadows. — Meadowlark, cowbird,

nighthawk, crow, bank swallow, barn swallow,
cliff swallow, vesper sparrow, field sparrow,
bobolink, red-winged blackbird, snowflake,
song sparrow.

4. In Bushes and Clearings. — White-throated spar-

row, song sparrow, chipping sparrow, tree spar-
row, field sparrow, white-growned sparrow,
junco, Maryland yellowthroat, kinglets, che-
wink, brown thrasher, rose-breasted grosbeak,
catbird, robin, purple finch, goldfinch, winter
wren.

5. By Streams and Rivers. — Phoebe, waxwing, bank

swallow, kingfisher, yellow warbler, red-winged
blackbird, Maryland yellowthroat.

6. In Woods. — Thrushes, wood pewee, ovenbird,

black and white creeper, woodpeckers, junco,
nuthatch, grouse, great crested flycatcher, che-
wink, whippoorwill, tree sparrow, fox spar-
row, brown creeper, scarlet tanager, chickadee,
Blackburnian warbler, crossbills, vireos, red-

start, black-throated blue warbler, yellow-
rumped warbler, winter wren.

7. Edge of Woods, — Rose-breasted grosbeak, cow-

bird, redstart, wood pewee, woodpeckers, king-
bird, cuckoo, ovenbird, bluebird, hummingbird,
chickadee, chewink, great crested flycatcher,
brown thrasher, yellow-bellied woodpecker, tree
sparrow, white-throated sparrow, white-crowned
sparrow, fox sparrow, brown creeper, thrasher,
vireos, oriole, purple finch, junco, warblers, yel-
lowhammer, winter wren.

8. Roadside Fences. — Bluebird, flicker, kingbird, red-

headed woodpecker, goldfinch, white-crowned
sparrow, field sparrow, vesper sparrow, song
sparrow, white-throated sparrow.

9. Thickets. — White-throated sparrow, song spar-

row, Maryland yellowthroat, chickadee, junco,
chewink, brown thrasher, white-crowned spar-
row, field sparrow, catbird, Wilson's thrush,
warblers (in migration), winter wren (in migra-
tion), chestnut-sided warbler.

10. Pine Woods. — Warblers, kinglets, chickadee,
brown thrasher, whippoorwill, white-crowned
sparrow, crossbills, purple finch, nuthatch
woodpeckers.

n. Size Compared with the Robin,
smaller than the robin.
I. Less than half as large. — Kinglets, chipping spar-
row, goldfinch, chickadee, nuthatch, Black-
burnian warbler, summer yellowbird, Maryland
yellowthroat, redstart, winter wren, least fly-
catcher, hummingbird, tree sparrow, field spar-
row, brown creeper, yellow-throated vireo, war-
bling vireo.

Hints to AiLdtibon Workers.

51

2. About half as large. — Swift, red-eyed vireo, oven-

bird, crossbills, wood pewee, purple finch, song
sparrow, junco, indigo bird.

3. More than half as large. — Phoebe, bluebird, wax-

wing, downy woodpecker, barn swallow, bank
swallow, cliff swallow, vesper sparrow, white-
crowned sparrow, fox sparrow, white-throated
sparrow, bobolink, oriole, scarlet tanager, snow
bunting.

ABOUT THE S.'^.ME SIZE AS THE ROBIN.

Rose-breasted grosbeak, cowbird, red-headed wood-
pecker, hairy woodpecker, yellow-bellied wood-
pecker, chewink, great crested flycatcher, red-
winged blackbird, catbird, thrushes, kingbird.

LARGER THAN THE ROBIN.

Yellowhammer, kingfisher, crow, grouse, orown
thrasher, whippoorwill, meadowlark, cuckoo,
nighthawk, keel-tailed blackbird, bluejay.

III. Colors.

COLORS STRIKING OR BRIGHT.

1. Blue backs. — Bluejay, bluebird (azure blue), nut-

hatch (slate blue), kingfisher (slate blue) indigo
bird, black-throated blue warbler.

2. Chestnut or red breasts. — Bluebird, robin, cross-

bills (male), scarlet tanager (male), chewink.

3. Yellow or orange throats. — Blackburnian warbler,

Maryland yellowthroat, summer yellowbird.

4. Yellow or orange breasts. — Yellow-throated vireo,

summer yellowbird, goldfinch, oriole, meadow-
lark, Blackburnian warbler, Maryland yellow-
throat.

5. Red patch on top or back of head in males. — Ruby-

crowned kinglet, woodpeckers, kingbird.

6. Red heads (entire head and neck red onnadder-pink .

— Purple finch (old males), crossbills (males).

7. Birds wholly or largely black {males). — Blackbirds,

crow blackbird, red-winged blackbird, cowbird,
redstart (salmon patches on breast, wings and
tail), bobolink (whitish patches on nape of neck
and back ), rose-breasted grosbeak ( carmine
patch on breast, belly white), crow.

COLORS DULL OR PLAIN.

1. Upper parts olive-green. — Breast unspotted: King-

lets (patch of red or yellow in crown), warbling
vireo (top of head unmarked), tanager (female),
crossbills (females). Breast spotted: Ovenbird
(crown patch orange-brown bordered with black)

2. Upper parts olive-gray. — Cuckoos (tail verj' long,

bill curved).
3 Upper parts dusky grayish-olive. — Phoebe (length

about 7 inches), wood pewee (length about 6
inches), least flycatcher (length about 5 inches).

4. Upper parts brown. —

a. Back without markings of any kind: Indigo
bird (female), brown thrasher (breast spotted,
tail very long), Wilson's thrush (breast spot-
ted, tail short), hermit thrush (breast spotted,
tail short and red), winter wren (back barred).

b. Back more "or less streaked : Meadowlark
(below yellow with black collar), female rose-
breasted grosbeak (rose of male replaced by
saffron yellow), bobolink (female and male in
winter, buffish-yellow below), purple finch
(female)..

Sparrows :

c. Breast unspotted in adult : Chipping (crown
brick red), white-throated (yellow spot in
front of eye).

d. Breast spotted or streaked : Song (no white
on tail).

5. General color chiefly black and white. —

a. In large patches or areas : Snowflake, bank
swallow, rose-breasted grosbeak (male), red-
start (male).

/'. In stripes : Black and white creeper.

c. In spots (above, white below) : Hairy wood-
pecker, downy woodpecker.

6. Yelloiv band across end of tail. — Waxwing (high

crest).

7. White band across end of tail.- — ^Kingbird (low

crest).

8. Crown and throat black {size small). — Chickadee

(back dull ash-gray),
g. Genei-al color sooty. — Chimney swift.
ID. General color slate. — Junco (belly and outer tail

feathers white).

BRILLIANT MALES CHANGING TO DULL COLORS OF
FEMALES IN AUTUMN.

Bobolink (becomes almost sparrowy in appearance),
goldfinch (becomes flaxen-brown above and
jDrownish-yellow below), scarlet tanager (be-
comes greenish-yellow), yellow-rumped warbler
(becomes brownish).

BIRDS SHOWING WHITE ON TAIL FEATHERS IN
FLIGHT.

Meadowlark, vesper sparrow, junco, chewink, rose-
breasted grosbeak, several warblers.

IV. Songs.

SINGERS.

1. Particularly plaintive. — Bluebird, white-throated
sparrow, hermit thrush, meadowlark, wood pe-
wee.

52

Hints to Audubon Workers.

2. Especially happy. — Chickadee, song sparrow, gold

finch, indigo bird, bobolink.

3. SJiort songs. — Robin, chickadee, bluebird, Mary-

land yellowthroat, meadowlark, great crested
flycatcher, whippoorwill.

4. Long songs, with definite beginning, middle and

eftd. — Hermit thrush, indigo bird, thrasher,
chewink, song, field, tree, white-crowned and
white-throated sparrows.

5. Long songs, zuithout definite beginning, middle and

end. — Purple finch, catbird, goldfinch.

6. Long loud songs. — Oriole, scarlet tanager, oven-

bird, rose-breasted grosbeak, chewink, winter
wren, brown thrasher.

TRILLERS.

(Saying tee-ka-tee-ka-tee-ka, or words to that effect.)
Low. — Redstart, summer yellowbird, black and white
creeper, junco, chippy, brown creeper, swift (say-
ing chippy-chippy-chirio^ , nuthatch.

Loud. — Yellowhammer {if-if-if-if-if-if-'f), king-
fisher (alarm), ovenbird (saying teacher).

VIII. Birds that Walk Instead of Hopping.

Keel-tailed blackbird, red-winged blackbird, crow,
partridge, cowbird, ovenbird, meadowlark.

V. Peculiarities of Flight.

Conspicuously tail-steering : Keel-tailed blackoird.

Undulating flight : Goldfinch, woodpeckers.

Circling flight : Swallows and nighthawks.

Labored flight : BoboUnk, meadowlark and spar-
rows.

Fluttering flight : Chimney swift.

Particularly direct flight : Robin, cuckoo, keel-tailed
blackbird, kingfisher, oriole.

VI. Birds with Habit of Song-Flight.

Cowbird, bobolink, ovenbird, bluebird, kingbird,
swift, woodpeckers, red-shouldered blackbird,
indigo bird, song sparrow, Maryland yellow-
throat, meadowlark, kingfisher, cuckoo, gold-
finch, nighthawk, purple finch.

VII. Marked Habits.

1. Phlegmatic, meditative , fond of sitting quietly. —

Wa.xwing, robin, thrushes, white-throated spar-
row, meadowlark, wood pewee, woodpeckers.

2. Restless, constantly flitting about. — Winter wren,

kinglets, chickadee, warblers, crossbills.

3. Loquacious. — Catbird, purple finch, crow black-

bird, bluejay, red-eyed vireo, ovenbird, swift,
chippy, bobolink.

IX. Shape of Bill Adapted to Food.

1. Short and stout, for cracking seeds. — Grosbeak,

crossbills (crossed for getting out spruce and
pine seeds), purple finch, indigo bird, junco,
snow bunting, bobolink, vesper, tree, field, fox,
and white-crowned sparrows.

2. Long and slender for holding zvorms. — Thrushes,

warblers, orioles, kinglets, brown creeper.

3. Hooked at end to hold insects. — Vireos, flycatchers,

kingbird, phcebe, pewee.

4. Long and heavy for drilling holes in trees. — Wood-

peckers.

X. Where Certain Birds Nest.

[. On the ground. — Meadowlark (meadows and
fields), white-throated sparrow, partridge, snow
bunting, nighthawk, bobolink, junco, ovenbird,
song sparrow, hermit thrush, Maryland yellow-
throat, black and white creeper.

2. In holes. —

a. Holes in trees and stubs: Woodpeckers, nut-
hatch, chickadee, bluebird, great crested fly-
catcher.

b. Holes in river and other banks ; Kingfisher,
bank swallow.

3. /;/ orchai'ds. — Kingbird, goldfinch, waxwing,

summer yellowbird, chipping sparrow, catbird,
robin, bluejay, redstart, cuckoo, least flycatcher.

\. About houses, sheds and bams. — Robin, phoebe,
eave swallow, chimney swift, bluebird (in knot-
holes in outhouses or in bird boxes), chipping
sparrow.

5. Jn bushes. — Cuckoo, chipping sparrow, catbird,

rose-breasted grosbeak, red-eyed vireo, Wilson's
thrush, red-winged blackbird, song sparrow,
yellow warbler, indigo bunting.

6. In loTO trees. — Tanager, chestnut-sided warbler,

yellow warbler, redstart, red-eyed vireo, purple
finch, kingbird, hummingbird, least flycatcher.

7. In high trees. — Robin, oriole (especially in elms),

crow blackbird, purple finch, vireo, wood pewee,

Blackburnian warbler, crossbills, hummingbird.

S. In other birds' nests. — Cowbird, cuckoo (rarely).

9. In crevices of logs or stumps. — Winter wren.

10. Under baj'k on trees. — Brown creeper.

Charley s Wonderful Jour7ieys.

53

XI. Birds that are Seen in Flocks when
NOT Nesting.

Cedarbird, nighthawk, bobolink, white-throated
sparrow, junco, chickadee (small parties), nut-
hatch (small parties), bluejay (small parties),
swift, crossbill, purple finch, bluebird, gold-
finch, kinglet, warblers, snowbird, blackbirds,
chimney swift, crow, swallows, vesper sparrow,
tree sparrow.

List of Birds Described, in Order of Rela-

tionshii'.*

1. Cuckoo. lo.

2. Kingfisher. n.
3; Hairy woodpecker. 12.

4. Downy woodpecker. 13.

5. Golden-winged wood- 14.

pecker.f 15.

6. Nighthawk. t

7. Chimney swift. f 16.

8. Kingbird. 17.

9. Phoebe. 18.

Wood pewee.
Least flycatcher.
Bluejay.

Bobolink (Ricebird).
Cowbird.

Red-winged black-
bird.
Meadowlark.
Baltimore oriole. |
Keel-tailed blackbird.

19. Purple finch.

20. Crossbill.

21. Goldfinch (Yellow-

bird).

22. Snowfiake (Snow bun-

ting).

23. White-throated spar-

row.

24. Chipping sparrow.

25. Junco (Slate-colored

snowbird).

26. Song sparrow.

27. Rose-breasted gros-

beak.

28. Indigo bunting.

29. Scarlet tanager.

30. Waxwing (Cedar

bird).t

31. Red-eyed vireo.

32. Black and white

creeper.

33. Summer yellowbird.

34. Black-throated blue

warbler.

Myrtle Warbler.

Chestnut-sided war-
bler.

Blackburnian war-
bler.

Ovenbird.

Maryland yellow-
throat.

Redstart.

Catbird.

Winter wren.

43. White-breasted nut-

hatch.

44. Chickadee (Black-

capped titmouse).

45. Golden -crowned

kinglet.

46. Ruby-crowned king-

let.

47. Wilson's thrush

48. Hermit thrush.

49. Robin.

50. Bluebird.

35-
36.

37-

3S.
39-

40.
41.

42.

Florence A. Merriam.

CHARLEY'S WONDERFUL JOURNEYS.

journey VII

THE two boys had been in bed a little
while, and Charley was just drop-
ping off, when he heard the door at the foot
of the stairs open gently, and Fido call his
name in a loud whisper.

He knew it was Fido's voice, and whisper-
ing to Bob to join him, the two boys slipped
on their clothes, and crept silently down the
stairs.

"It's a splendid night for a fox hunt,"
said Fido ; a foot of snow on the ground,
and a clear moonlight sky. Get out the
rocking-horse and we'll have a glorious
chase."

Charley opened the front door noiseless-
ly ; the two boys led out the horse, and the
trio trotted merrily away across the home
meadow to the maple grove.

* Arrangement given accords with the new Check List of
the American Ornithologists' Union.

X Omitted from Audubon Magazine hut printed in the
Boonville Heraldy Boonville, New York, December 15, 1887.

t Ibid, December 22, 1887.

"Now, Bob," said Fido, "you hide in the
maples and I'll come and hunt you up, and
as soon as I'm on the scent I'll shout ' Tal-
ly-ho,' and then 'Let her go Gallagher.'"

Bob disappeared in the maples as he was
told, Fido was soon on the track, and ere
many minutes had passed, Charley heard
the welcome "Tally-ho," dashed his heels
into his steed, and galloped through the
woods at wild speed.

As soon as he reached the open country,
the dog and fox appeared in full view going
like the wind, and Fido making the echoes
ring again with the music of his voice.

Field after field was crossed, fence after
fence negotiated in true sportsmanlike style,
creeks cleared at a bound, but Fido could
get no nearer to the fox, and Charley no
nearer to Fido.

At last they came to some woods, and
when Charlev got through to the other side.

54

Chaidcys Wondei^ful Journeys.

he found Fido running up and down trying
in vain for the scent.

"We must try back," said the dog, "I've
lost the scent."

They tried back until Fido picked up the
scent, lost it and returned to it two or three
times. At last he lifted up his voice, and
cried, "Treed, by Jupiter; come along,
Charley, here he is up a tree."

"You must be fox next time, Charley,"
said Bob, "or I won't come down."

"I don't mind," said Charley, "only I
can't run on the snow without my snow-
shoes."

"Well, there they are in the sleigh," said
Bob, "and I'll help you put them on."

Charley looked round ; he thought he
had come on the rocking-horse, but was
delighted to iind that it was the horse and
sleigh, and that his snowshoes were there,
as Bob had said.

He had them out in a twinkling; Bob
came down and helped him to put them on,
and no sooner had he struck out for a run
than he glided away like the wind.

Presently he heard the expected " Tally-
ho," and increased his speed almost with-
out effort. Trees and landmarks appeared
to dash by him with railway speed, and
gradually the baying of the dog and the
" Tally-ho " of Bob grew fainter and fainter
as he left them far behind.

After a time the baying of the dog ceased
altogether, and Charley stopped to listen.
He shouted, but there came no response.
"I will go quietly," thought he, "and give
them a chance to catch up."

Charley stepped along easily for some
time, and had almost forgotten Fido and
Bob, when he heard a sound behind him
that for a moment made his heart stand still.
It was the whoop of redskins following on
his trail.

He stepped along again, not too fast, be-
cause he wanted to get a sight of them, and
seeing a nice little oak sapling, he pulled it
up by the roots as he dashed by. "This

will make a good club," said he, as he took
out his knife and trimmed it a bit.

The Indians came nearer until Charley
could see their dusky forms — quite a crowd
of them — and away he went again with the
speed of the wind, but they followed on,
neither losing nor gaining ground, and yel-
ling like furies.

Then Charley looked to his right and saw
another lot of redskins running to cross his
path; then he looked to his left and saw a
third party. Right and left, as far ahead
as he could see, there were redskins run-
ning to cut him off. Behind and on both
sides they were closing on him, but there
were none straight ahead, and Charley
dashed on.

At last they were abreast of him on both
sides, and Charley raised his club, and rolled
them over like ninepins.

"Charley," cried the screech owl over-
head, "bowl them over to right and left, but
be careful not to let one fall across your
path."

"They are only toy Indians," said Char-
ley as he knocked them over by the score;
but at that moment he heard a yell behind
him that made his blood curdle. The red-
skins were close behind him, and another
crowd closing in in front. He dashed for-
ward, swung his club with more force than
judgment and rolled a redskin across his
path.

His snowshoe tripped on him, he fell for-
ward against the crowd, knocking the fore-
most ones against the second row and these
against the third row, and so on, and the
next moment there were a hundred rolling
in the snow; and while Charley was strug-
gling to rise, his pursuers pounced on him
with a yell.

On they came — old men, young men,
pappooses and squaws — yelling, laughing,
shouting and dancing for joy, and telling
each other what a glorious run they had
had.

They crowded round Charley, especially

Charley s Wonderful Joiirneys.

55

the women and children, but the warriors
drove them all back, and made them form
a circle with Charley in the middle. It was
a sad time for Charley.

"Now we have got him," said the chief,
" the question is, what shall we do with
him.''"

which to choose if they had left it to him,
but he had no choice in the matter, and he
felt very miserable.

Just then one of the women stole up
behind him without letting the chief see
her, and gave Charley a pinch which made
him cry out.

"CHARLEY," CRIED THE SCREECH OWL OVERHEAD, " BOWL THEM OVER TO RIGHT AND LEFT, Rl'T BE
CAREFUL NOT TO LET ONE FALL ACROSS YOUR PATH."

"Oh, do let us have him, said the chil-
dren; "we'll prick him, and touch him with
burning sticks, and have such fun."

But the squaws wanted him that they
might pinch him and enjoy the music of his
voice when he cried out.

And the young men said that that was
all nonsense, they wanted to set him up for
a mark to shoot at with their bows and
arrows.

And poor Charley wouldn't have known

At this all the women and children yelled
with delight, and clamored to the chief to
let them have him, and some of the women
rushed in and tried to get him by force,
and the young men pressed forward and
struggled with the women, and there was
an awful confusion and quarreling, every
one speaking at once, which Charley thought
very rude. Indeed, he was going to tell
them so, when the chief grew impatient at
the quarreling and said, " Here, I've had

56

The Audubon Monu7ncnt.

enough of this nonsense, I'll soon put an
end to your disputes."

And with that he took Charley by the
hair and pulled his head back across his
knee, and then with a long knife in the
other hand prepared to cut his throat.

Charley saw the glittering blade and the
cruel purpose in the chief's eye, he felt the
point of the knife on his throat, and with
one desperate struggle for life and liberty,
struck out at the chief's face, and sprang
up trembling and astonished — in bed.

"What did you hit me for?" said Bob.
"There, take that now," as he rushed on
the astonished Charley and struck him.

Charley sprang out of bed in an instant,
and the two boys went at each other pell
mell, and rolled over together on the floor,
and made a racket that soon brought Char-
ley's mother up to see what was the matter.

As she opened the door the boys jumped
to their feet and stood glaring at each
other with clenched fists.

" He hit me first," said Bob.

"I didn't," said Charley; "he hit me
first. When I awoke from my dream, and
sat up in bed, he came and hit me for
nothing."

"Itaintso," said Bob; " he wasn't asleep,
he was only shamming. He had his head
stretched back on the pillow, and I just put
my finger on his throat, pretending to cut
it, when he up and hit me a whack on the
nose."

" But that was the chief trying to cut my
throat with his knife, and I wanted to hit
him," said Charley.

"Oh, what a lie," said Bob; "wherever
do you expect to go to ?"

But the mother pacified the boys as well
as she could, and dressed Charley and told
him he should tell his dream after break-
fast.

"Well, 1 think this has gone far enough,"
said Charley's father when he heard it;
"dreaming about Indians and squaws and
getting his throat cut. Now that boy's got
to take a dose of medicine. If he don't
there's no knowing what he'll be dreaming
next; you mark my words."

And so Charley saw the nasty black
physic mixed, and made many wry mouths
over it, but he had to take it.

"Sarve you right," whispered Bob. "You
shouldn't have gone and said you thought
I was an Injun."

C. F. Amery.

THE AUDUBON MONUMENT

THE preliminary work of the commit-
tee appointed to take charge of the
erection of a monument to the memory of
John James Audubon has been completed.
The various scientific societies in this coun-
try have been communicated with, and have
expressed their readiness to take part in the
work of raising funds. The several sub-
committees have met and agreed on the
design, an impression of which is here given
for the information of our readers. The
basic block with a medallion of the great
naturalist is to be of granite, the shaft ter-
minatinof in a Runic cross is a monolith to

be executed in North River blue stone.
The ornamentation in our sketch is sugges-
tive only of the general idea; it will consist
for the most part of birds and animals with
which Audubon's name is especially associ-
ated, and the selection and drawing of these
has been committed to experts. The total
cost is estimated at ten thousand dollars,
and nothing now remains but to collect the
money. The monument will be put in hand
and the work progress as fast as funds flow
in, and every effort made to prepare for un-
veiling the monument in the early fall of
the vear

The A^idubou Monument.

57

The monument, designed to honor the
memory of the dead naturaUst, will reflect
no less honor on the living who contribute
to it. Scientific societies all over the coun-

PROPOSED MONUMENT TO AUDUBON.

try have displayed the utmost eagerness to
participate in the undertaking ; every one
feels that it would be discreditable to stand
aside; there is consequently no doubt of its
being carried into effect; in fact the central

committee has already the promise of such
liberal support as to relieve them of all real
anxiety on the subject.

And now for us comes the question,
" Shall the Audubon Society be fairly rep-
resented on the published roll of the sub-
scribers to the monument, or shall we leave
the credit to others, and have it inferred
that we are wanting in all sympathy for and
appreciation of the great naturalist, whose
name we have assumed for our society?"

Large subscriptions are not necessary.
Audubon is a national name, a name that
Americans are proud of, a name the men-
tion of which awakens national sympathies,
and there can be no doubt that thousands
will be ready to put their hands in their
pocket and do honor to his memory, and as
the costs will not exceed ten or perhaps
eleven thousand dollars, there is no occa-
sion to call for liberal contributions. What
we want is numerous contributions of small
sums, that the roll of the subscribers' names,
which it is proposed to unfold at the same
time as the monument, may be found to be
representative of all classes of the commu-
nity and all sections of the country.

It was proposed at the last meeting of
the general committee to prepare photo-
graphs of the monument, one of which
should be presented to each subscriber,
with the name and the amount of subscrip-
tion written on it, as a lasting memorial of
his or her connection with the erection of
the monument.

The Audubon Society should be numer-
ously represented on the Audubon sub-
scription roll, and the Forest and Stream
for the Society desires to head the list with
a subscription of $25.00.

Subscriptions from members of the Soci-
ety may be sent to us direct, or through the
Local Secretaries of the Audubon Society,
and we take this opportunity to invite all
the Local Secretaries of the Society to in-
terest themselves to secure contributions
to the fund.

TWO LITTLE CAPTIVES.

R

AIN, rain, rain. I wonder if it will
ever stop," sighed Bertie at the
window. " Say, grandpa, don't you think
it might rain at night, so the boys could
stay out of doors all day?"

"Well, I don't know, Bertie; the rain
does a great deal of good, especially after
a dry spell like the one we have had. But
don't you think that some little boys might
learn to be quiet on wet days, and stay in
the house contentedly, without going about
growling and making so much noise to
wake grandma up ?"

"But you see, grandpa, I haven't any-
thing to do. I would be quiet if you would
tell me a story."

Grandpa kindly put his paper down and
lifted the little bov on to his knee.

"What shall it be about, Bert; fairies
and beautiful princesses and giants?"

"Oh, no, they're girls' stories. You might
put a giant in, though, and have lots of
fighting."

"Very well," said his grandfather, "we'll
have a giant and a battle- and two captives;
will that do?"

Bertie appeared satisfied, so the old gen-
tleman beean:

" Once upon a time, not very long ago,
there lived a certain man who had a wife
and two children. What shall their names
be?"

"Rob and Dick," said the little boy.

"Oh, no; one was a girl."

"Well, Jenny, then. Rob and Jenny; go
ahead."

"Rob and Jenny were very good chil-
dren, and had very nice times together, al-
though their father was quite poor; indeed,
sometimes they had to go to bed hungry,
and both their father and mother had to
work very hard to get enough to eat, and
came home at night very tired, but even if
they did not have as nice things as richer
children have, still they were very happy.

"There was only one thing which kept
this little family from being perfectly happy,
and that was this. Down at the foot of the
hill was the castle of a cruel giant, who
chased them every time he saw them and
tried to catch them to eat. So the poor
father and mother were always afraid that
some day, while they were away, he would
find their house and steal their children.
They told the children never to wander far
from home, but to play about their own
house.

One day, while the father and mother
were out, Rob heard an awful noise, and
felt the ground shake so that it almost
knocked down their little house. He ran
to the door to see what was the matter, and
what should he see but the wicked giant
coming up the hill.

"'Ah ha!" he cried, as soon as he saw
the little boy at the door, ' I've got you
this time.'

"The poor little children ran back as far
as they could into the house to get away,
but he caught and held them fast in his
great big hand, and roared with delight.

" ' Oh, please let us go,' said Rob,
'please, please do,' while poor little Jenny

Two Little Captives.

59

held on to her brother and cried out with
fright.

"But the monster wouldn't listen; he
just marched ojff with them down the hill,
then he threw them into a bag and shook
them together, laughing when he heard
their piteous cries. After a while they came
to his castle down in the dark valley. Here
he pitched them into a deep prison, with
iron bars, against which poor Rob threw
himself, trying in vain to break them. But
he only succeeded in bruising his poor arms
and body and delighting his cruel captor.
Think how the mother and father felt that
night, when they returned tired after the
hard work they had been doing that day
to earn the supper they were carrying home,
with, perhaps, a few dainties for the chil-
dren. Imagine their feelings when they
saw their pretty home ruined, the door
broken down and the children gone. In
vain they went about the woods, calling
them, hoping to find them hiding on pur-
pose to tease. It was no use, the children
were gone, gone perhaps for ever. They
ran down to the castle with wild cries, and
begged its cruel master to give up their
children, their beautiful children. But he
threatened to shoot them, and in affright
they ran away, never to go back to the little
house that was home no longer.

"In the meantime Jenny and Rob sat
huddled together in one corner of their
prison, not knowing what was going to hap-
pen next, whether they would be seized,
murdered and eaten by the giant, or whether
they were doomed to a long life in captiv-
ity. Food was thrown into them through
the bars, but they could not eat. Could
you eat, Bertie, under the circumstances ?
I think not. They just let it lie there, and
refused to touch it. And so they crouched
there, hour after hour and day after day,
giving each other what comfort they could.
Jenny, who was not so strong as her brother,
soon gave up, and grew sicker and weaker
each day, until at last she just lay on the

floor, moaning 'Mother, mother' all day
long. Her brother would try to comfort
her, and would talk to her of the day when
they should escape from the prison and go
home to their dear little cottage in the
woods; but she would only shake her head
sadly, and say, 'No, Rob, I shall never see
mother again.'

"At last the time came when she was too
weak to move. Her face, once so plump
and rosy, grew pinched and sallow, and her
eyes lost all their bright look. Poor Rob
had never seen his sister look so before,
and he felt very much afraid he was going
to lose her. He tried his best, poor boy,
to be cheerful for her sake, but it did no
good; each day she wandered nearer and
nearer to that dark river.

" Every day the wicked giant would come
and look in at them, and sometimes he
would take a long stick and poke them,
trying to make them jump about, when they
felt too sick to move. So at last poor little
Jenny would scream and cry as soon as she
heard his steps.

" One day the little girl was worse, and
Rob did not know what to do. He begged
her to speak to him, but she would not
make a sound. At last he saw her lips
move, and bending down, heard her mur-
mur, 'Good bye.' In an agony of grief
and despair he threw himself against the
bars, those cruel bars that had cut him off
from life and liberty. If it had not been
for them, he and his sister might have been
playing together as they used to. The re-
straint he had put upon himself for Jenny's
sake gave way, and he cried until he was
exhausted. At last he got up and went to
his sister, hoping that she was not dead,
but asleep. He crept up to her, and bend-
ing down, whispered her name softly. But
the eyelids never stirred, they were shut for
ever over the eyes that could never see
again. With a low cry of anguish, he
threw himself across Jenny's body, and
so the brother and sister dropped together

6o

Helpless Pets.

into that sleep that knows no waking."

"Oh, no, grandpa, no," said the httle
boy, "don't make them die; make some
brave knight come and rescue them and
kill the cruel giant."

"Ah, Bertie, that I cannot do, for the
story is a true one. What brave knight
rescued the little birds you took from their
nest last year?"

"Birds! nest!" The boy looks puzzled.

"Yes, child, yes; the young robins you

took last spring are the children of my
story, and you who took them are the wick-
ed giant. Not a very big one," the old
man smiles, "but a monster in their eyes."
The little boy slips down from his grand-
father's knee, and going to the window,
looks out into the gathering gloom, trying
to see in the twilight the vacant nest in the
old oak tree in front of the house, and the
two little graves placed side by side at its

foot.

Etheldred B. Barry.

HELPLESS PETS.

AWAY back in the half-forgotten past
I was familiar with a poem written
on a "Bullfinch Starved to Death in its
Cage," and, as though the spirit of the bird
were yet speaking to the jailer of the cruel-
ty practiced, the concluding words ran thus:
" If you had shown me less cruelty, I would
be your prisoner still."

It is no unfrequent thing to see a lady
shedding tears at the loss of a canary bird,
either from an unknown cause or from the
claws and teeth of a domestic cat. Now,
being a friend to birds, I am an enemy to
birds in cages.

"But," says Mamie, "the canary knows
nothing about any other life than that in
the cage. It is weak and helpless, and
could not get its own living if set free."
This is equivalent to saying that the race
has been imprisoned so long that it has be-
come weak, helpless and degenerate. It
may be a humane thing, in the minds of
many, to take care of these little imbeciles
and encourage their increase under capti-
vity. There are persons who have time to
attend to their wants and have fortitude
enough to endure their shrill, rasping notes;
but to those who have delighted in hearing
real song birds in the open air, singing from
trees and meadows, the metallic ear-pierc-
ing notes of a canary are excruciating.

I am reminded just here of what my friend

Julia was telling me last winter: "You
know Mrs. Blank is so outspoken, indeed,
she says bad words and don't care a cent
whom she says them to, either. One day
when she called and we were having a so-
ciable old chat by the fire, my birds began
to sing. You know they always do when
people talk or sit down to a meal. Well,
they all tuned up and sang like everything.
She seemed much annoyed and put her
hands to her ears, and all at once started
up and rushed to the door, exclaiming, 'I
thought I could have a talk with you, but
these abominable little devils have set up
their clash !' Was not that awful ?"

"What was awful?"

"Why, such a speech as that !"

" Oh, yes ; but not so awful as the provo-
cation for it."

But notwithstanding the annoyance these
pretty little creatures inflict on a sensitive
nerve, I speak in their behalf and from pity
for the suffering, and the condition of the
majority of them. In the winter they are
kept in close, over-heated "sitting rooms,"
where fumes from the kitchen and laundry
and even tobacco load the air ; often they
are watched daily by a murderous cat, and
must suffer untold agonies from instinctive
fear, until, in many cases, the little palpitat-
ing heart is stilled forever, and the arch
enemy licks the last drop of its life-blood

By Albati^oss Mail.

6i

from his whiskers as he glances sideways at
the empty cage, and purrs with satisfaction:
"I have eaten the canary." And why not?
the game was within his reach. It was his
prey, and he has no conscience.

But it is in the summer that canaries and
other caged birds suffer the most. They
are baked in the sun as though it were their
destiny to be murdered by sunstrokes.
Think of it, ye mortals. A bird hung in a
cage against the side of a house, perhaps
painted white, or some trying color, under
the rays of a fierce, blistering sun, from
which the chickens and pigs seek the shade
of leaves. Possibly, being moved by com-
passion, you call the attention of the owner
to the facts in the case; she will tell you in

her wilfulness and ignorance that "birds
like the sun."

Birds sing in the morning and evening in
the open air, and in the thickest shade in
midday, but most birds are mute and seek
cool retreats where the rays of the burning
sun cannot enter.

Poor little prisoner ! Wild with agony be-
neath a pitiless sun ! Scream on in your
crazy appeals for mercy ! Your mistress has
gone shopping or visiting a neighbor, or is
rattling away at a sewing machine, making
ruffles and tucks. She tells people that she
has a splendid singer, and tells the price
she paid the fancier for you, but she knows
little of the laws of life or the needs of your
constitution, and does not want to learn.
Helen V. Austin.

BY ALBATROSS MAIL.

A SENSATIONAL story, which for
romantic interest rivals any of Ri-
der Haggards' conceptions, hinges on the
following scrap of intelligence, scratched
in French on a small piece of tin:

"Thirteen shipwrecked men took refuge
upon the Crozet Islands on August 4th,
1887."

This tin was found on the beach at Free-
mantle, South Australia, on the 22d Sep-
tember last, attached to the neck of a dead
albatross, and the story having been circu-
lated in the papers, came to the notice of
Governor Robinson, who sent a despatch to
the English government, who in their turn
instructed their ambassador at Paris to com-
municate the fact to the French govern-
ment.

By that time the French papers were dis-
cussing the probable loss of the three-master
Tamaris, owned by the firm of Bordes &
Son, of Bordeaux, which left Bordeaux for
New Caledonia in the spring of the year,
and of which no news had been received in
the interim. Her crew numbered thirteen
men, thus tallying with the number which

had taken refuge on the Crozet Islands,
and as these islands were on the line of the
ship's course, and the Tamaris should by
calculation have made them during July or
August, the presumption is very strong
that it is her crew, whose whereabouts has
thus been made known.

Every ship sailing in southern seas is
followed by albatrosses, which wheel round
it on tireless wing, until some animal refuse
thrown overboard tempts them to alight,
but during the summer m.onths these birds
have a wide southern range ; far to the
southward of the track of any but whaling
vessels, and the comparatively few which
are seen by mariners, can be only a very
small percentage of the whole. The bird
with its message attached might have roam-
ed the great southern watery waste for
years, without following in the wake of any
passing ship ; and even had it immediately
taken to following ships, the tag would cer-
tainly have attracted attention, but the
odds against its being read were very great.

Sailors frequently take these birds with
hook and line, label them with date of cap-

62

By Albatross Mail.

ture, name and position of ship, etc., and
let them go; and a labeled bird might pos-
sibly be recaptured in the same way , but
if it were too wary to take the hook, it
would be only during a calm that a ship's
officers would shoot a labeled bird with the
object of reading the inscription. Under
no other circumstances would the commu-
nication be considered of sufficient import-
ance to justify the lowering of a boat to
recover the body.

That the dead body of the bird should
have been found on the South Australian
beach a few weeks after the message was
attached to it is little short of miraculous.

There is scarcely an instance on record
of man finding the body of an albatross that
had died a natural death. Wild birds always
steal away to die in secret, and the albatross,
being essentially a water bird, and almost
utterly helpless on land, would certainly
never go ashore to die. A sick albatross,
incapable of maintaining itself on the wing,
would alight on the water, on the surface of
which it can rest with ease and comfort,
and we may be sure that the messenger
from the Crozet Islands found dead on
the Freemantle beach, was either washed
ashore, or had been wounded and fell sud-
denly dead while flying along the coast.

The Crozet Islands are a little group of
four or five very small uninhabited islands
away south of Madagascar, in fact far south
of the usual track of vessels, and are the
breeding grounds of albatrosses, penguins,
and other sea fowl. As a consequence they
afford an abundant supply of food of a sort.
The crew of the sealer Strathmore lived a
long time on one of these islands, subsist-
ing chiefly on penguin flesh and eggs.
Efforts have been made to rescue the un-
fortunate castaways. The French Minister
of Marine at once sent instructions to the
commander of the naval division in the
Indian Ocean, to despatch the transport
Meurthe to the Crozet Islands without de-
lay, and to take the unfortunate mariners

to the Island of Reunion for return to
France by steamer. Her Britannic Majes-
ty's ship Thalia, on its way from England
to Australia, also has orders to touch at the
Crozet Islands ; so we may expect soon to
hear of the rescue of the shipwrecked mar-
iners, and to see the albatross allotted a
niche in the Temple of Fame.

The Crozet Islands are only about two
thousand miles from Australia, and as the
albatross is capable of flying sixty miles an
hour, and probably of sustaining its flight
for twelve hours or more, the messenger
might have done the distance in three days;
but six weeks elapsed between the date of
the despatch, and the discovery of the bird's
body on the South Australian coast. In
that interval he could have gone round by
Cape Horn, and circumnavigated the globe
in southern latitudes, visiting every whale
boat that came within reach of his piercing
eye, and all without painful effort. These
birds rest on the surface of the water at
night, and oftentimes for hours during the
day, and many of them must be inevitably
swallowed by sharks.

Since the above was in type, further in-
formation has been published to the effect
that the French transport Meurthe had
touched at the Crozet Islands, in compli-
ance with instructions from the French Na-
val authorities, and that on the small island
of Cochous they found traces of the miss-
ing crew, who had left a written statement
to the effect that they had been some months
on the island, and having two boats with
them, would try to make Possession Island,
eighty miles distant. The Meurthe called
at that island without finding any traces of
the crew. At one of the other islands
of the group the Meurthe spoke some
whalers who had been there some weeks,
but they knew nothing of the shipwrecked
crew, and for the present it is impossible
to determine whether they were lost on the
passage from island to island or picked up
by some passing whaler.

BIRD MYTHS.
l.—CORVUS, THE CROW.

HE is a black, unmusical bird, and in
our land and generation has a worse
reputation, perhaps, than he deserves. The
Bible account of Noah's raven is very in-
teresting, and that raven was a crow.

The Siamese have an old fable concern-
ing the crow. Once, it declares, he was far
handsomer than he now is. One unlucky
day he chanced for the first time to meet a
nok-jtc7ik; that is a peacock, one of the birds
called sacred in mythology. Then Corz'us
felt envious of peacock's magnificent plumes,
and he foolishly asked the proud peafowl if
he might not be dressed as richly as him-
self. The peacock good-naturedly answer-
ed that it could easily be done, telling Cor-
vus that he would cover him all over with
silver and gold, as men gild and adorn
wooden and other images of many kinds.

The ambitious crow gladly assented, and
his grand cousin proceeded to smear his
feathers with black pitch, which the pea-
fowl said was necessary to make the gold
and silver tinsel adhere to them.

After doing so much, the peacock must
take a journey to procure the bright ma-
terials for "finishing" the crow elegantly.
When he returned Corvus was feeding upon
a dead animal, as was perfectly natural
for him, but the sacred, refined, and splen-
did peacock was shocked and displeased,
and so he declined to gild the feathers he
had blackened. Thus all ravens which in
natural history are crows, have, since that
unknown time, inherited only black plum-
age, unless by a freak of nature one has
white feathers, as a black cat mother may
have white kittens.

The common crow of Europe was named
Corvus splendens by naturalists. This grand
title seems to agree with another legend,
that asserts that all ravens or crows were
by nature purely white, and that they lost
their fair beauty in consequence of their

meddlesome curiosity; a quality dangerous
for any of us to indulge !

In early times among the Greeks and
Romans, the children of the wealthy had
many kinds of birds for pets. The crow or
raven was one of their favorites.

In mythology (mythical religion) there
was a raven called the Bird of Saturn, who
brought many calamities to the earth ; and
so, in time, the poets sang dolefully of these
dark birds. A poet of our own land, who
died young, wrote a very musical and cele-
brated poem entitled "The Raven."

In the Norseland fables, two crows are
representatives of Mind and Memory. They
are named Hugin and Mii-nnin.

Memory stood on the shoulders of Odin,
a mighty god and warrior, and in those
countries (Norway and Sweden) the crow
or raven has always been regarded as a mes-
senger of the King.

Besides the legend I have related, the
people of Siam believe that a crow comes
with news. When they hear him caw, the
wise ones go into their houses and take a
lump of boiled rice, colored red, yellow,
blue, or green, which they keep in a basket,
and throw it upon the roof. If the cawing
bird alights to eat of it, then the master of
that house supposes that the crow's tidings
are for himself. But he never learns what
the message is! He guesses and wonders
about it till he is tired. A harmless kind of
superstition that may be called.

It is true that ravens will carry off bright
objects for which they have no use, such as
jewelry and small silver articles. Not very
long ago a tame raven allowed out of a
cage, in Wisconsin, flew down from a branch
and grasped in his bill a finger-ring, laid on
an outside bench by a woman. He flew far
away with the stolen ring, which was never
recovered, although Corvus returned to his
owner, who finally paid for it.

Emily Thacher Bennett.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK,

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The registered membership of tlie Society on
Feb. 29, 1S88, was 44,308, showing an increase of
625 members during the month, drawn from the fol-
lowing sources:

New York 166 Michigan 4

Massachusetts 48 District of Columbia 4

New Hampshire 13 Minnesota 8

New Jersey 40 North Carolina 36

Maine 38 Indiana 17

Connecticut 4 Nebraska 6

Pennsylvania 27 Wisconsin 4

Maryland 3 Tennessee 5

Kentucky 38 Georgia i

Kansas 10 Florida 1

Iowa 39 West Virginia 21

Illinois 21 Canada 3

Missouri 53 Bermuda 1

Ohio 13 Mexico i

625
C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

SAVING THE TREE.

Editor Audubon Magazine :

One afternoon, about the middle of May, 1886,
while sitting at my desk, I chanced to look out of
my study window, and saw a Baltimore oriole {Icte-
rus galhula) hopping from branch to branch of an
ash-leaved maple tree. He was nipping off the
leaves and the ends of the new and tender branches
and dropping them upon the ground. My first
thought was that he was doing great damage to the
tree. In my boyhood's days I would have thrown a
stone at him. A moment's reflection, however, con-
vinced me that Baltimore would not so disgrace his
lordly colors. I laid down my pen and went out to
investigate. I found that in every case where a leaf
or a twig had been cut off, it was done to get at a
destroying larva, and that the bird was a faithful
surgeon using his instruments with unerring skill to
save the life of the tree. From that time my admir-
ation for the winged Lord Baltimore has steadily in-
creased. Wm. H. Tibbals.
Park College, 1888.

A CROSSBILL IN MID-OCEAN.

Editor Audubon Magazine:

I received a few weeks ago a copy of your maga-
zine and took pleasure in it. I notice it speaks of
the high and extended flight of the crossbills. This
recalls an incident which interested me and may in-
terest your readers. A number of years ago, I think
it was the summer of 1870, I was coming across the
Atlantic in a sailing vessel — the barque Bounding
Billow. One day we were about in a line from New-

foundland and the Azores, Newfoundland being
about 600 miles distant, the Azores somewhat nearer,
when a crossbill came on board the vessel. The pre-
vailing winds had been northwesterly, and this in
connection with the sort of bird it was led us to be-
lieve that it had come from Newfoundland. It must
have had a long flight in any case, and while it might
have rested on the way, it could scarcely have had
any food. As we tried to catch it it flew short flights
on the vessel, but would not leave, and we at last
caught it by the help, if I remember right, of the food
placed near a caged goldfinch we had on board. At
any rate it was caught and caged. It did not seem
wild but very hungry. It was a great pleasure to see
it eat and drink and rest. We brought it to New
York and there it was stolen from the vessel.

Wallace E. Mather.

Paris, Oneida County, N. Y.

THE SPARROW CORRESPONDENCE.

General Splnner's reprobation of the English
sparrow in his correspondence with Miss Lydia L.
A. Very, has called forth a host of protests which we
would gladly publish if they tended in any way to
settle the question at issue, but while it appears only
just to Miss Very to allow her an opportunity of foil-
ing the General's thrusts, we should only tire our
readers if we devoted our columns exclusively to the
discussion of this inexhaustible subject.
■ Whether the English sparrow is or is not a desir-
able acquisition is a question about which there will
always be a difference of opinion, because it will
never be possible to determine the extent to which he
replaces American birds, but the friends of the sparrow
may listen to all the tirades against him, and to all
suggestion of measures for his destruction with the
most perfect complacency in the calm assurance that
the resources of the American people are inadequate
to his extermination. The English sparrow has come
to stay. Following is Miss Very's letter:
Gen. E. E. Spinner:

Dear Sir — I thank you for your interesting and
amusing letter. You are mistaken in your supposi-
tion that I am one of those ladies who carry dainties,
flowers and misdirected sympathy to red-handed
murderers and other criminals in prison. I do not
belong to the roast turkey and plum pudding brigade,
but my sympathies are wholly with their victims. I
think punishment, to be effectual, should be punish-
ment. And now about the sparrow. You must al-
low me to speak plainly. I think you have been
guilty of a great cruelty in inciting boys to kill them.

The Atidubon Note Book.

65

I know the boy nature thoroughly and know if they
are permitted to kill one bird they will kill any or all,
even kill the sparrow when she has little ones and
leave them to starve. I do not think even you would
encourage this. You say the sparrow is strictly
granivourous. This is incorrect, as thousands who
have watched it can testify. It was not long ago
that a small crowd of people in our street were watch-
ing a little sparrow trying to kill a large black beetle.
The sparrow is not considered a pest in Europe.
Had that character been given him, he never would
have been brought here. The skunk, which you
mention in your list of nuisances, has been killed
without mercy, but a writer in the Audubon Maga-
zine testifies that he clears his field of potato bugs!
Give him credit for that. If we do not see the use of
created things I ascribe it to our ignorance, and do
not say that the all-wise Creator has made a nuisance.
You say that some States have passed laws making
it a penal offense to harbor the sparrow. It was not
many years ago that there was a law forbidding any
one to harbor or feed a fellow being if his skin were
colored. There is a higher law overruling man's in
regard to men and birds. You say man is the chief
brute of creation, but then woman is his mother.
True, but then he takes after his father. You say
the sparrow is dirty and feeds on horse-droppings.
Your favorite robin, when she has her little brood,
feeds on the undigested worms that pass through the
little ones. I do not consider anything dirty or un-
clean in the brute creation, but admire the wisdom
of the Creator that has planned it so that one creature
can be supported on the refuse of another! The little
sparrow has made the winter pleasant to old and
young, and invalids (who have so few pleasures),
with his merry twitterings and pretty ways; he is at
work winter as well as summer. He eats the lice
around the fruit and flower buds (some ignorantly
say he is biting off the buds), the elm trees look far
better since he has been at work upon them. He is
not to blame that he came to this country. Blame
those who brought him here if any censure is needed.
But let not man be more cruel than old Winter, who,
when the little things succumb to the cold, puts them
to sleep kindly and lays a white quilt gently over the
poor, little frozen bodies. If ever I go forth to fight
and want an opponent, it will not be the poor little de-
fenseless sparrow. Yours truly,

Lydia L. a. Very.

tion and control of the Yellowstone National Park.
Every one has heard of this fairy region, which con-
tains within its area a collection of natural wonders
unequalled in the world, and which is now the last
retreat of the little remnant of our buffalo, elk, and
other great game; and ever}' one with a spark of
patriotic sentiment must naturally wish to preserve
this remarkable region to the American people for
all time. Senator Vest's bill makes all necessary
provision for the preservation of this region, but its
passage was opposed last session by the represent-
atives of a few individuals, who want to run a rail-
way through the Park. The effect of this might be
to erect drinking saloons, inclose geysers, encourage
poaching on the last of the big game, and generally
to treat the Park as their ovi-n property for conversion
into dollars and dimes by levying taxes on all visitors.
This is a job which the whole American people is
interested in averting, and it can be averted if the
Legislature at Washington be made aware that the
people are interesting themselves in the subject, and
we trust our readers will do their share to contribute
to so desirable an end. Forms of petitions in dupli-
cate will be mailed free on application to Forest and
Stream Publishing Co., New York, N. Y.

A Thoughtful Great Lady. — The Empress of
Brazil is one of the great ladies who will not count-
enance the wearing of birds' feathers or bodies about
their persons. Though Brazil is noted for its birds
of brilliant plumage the Empress never allows their
feathers to be used for any part of her dress. Since
she has been at Cannes she has assured a visitor that,
"much as she admires the feathers of the magnificent
birds of Brazil, she only likes them on their bodies."

Preservation of the Yellowstone Park. — A
movement has been set on foot by the Forest and
Stream Publishing Company to influence Congress
by petitions in support of Senator Vest's bill now
before the Senate providing for the proper conserva-

Cruelty Personified. — A woman lately returned
from Europe brought a reception gown that must
have had 200 little brown birds, fastening a rose-col-
ored crepe upon a skirt of white silk. A circlet of the
little feathered creatures is for the head. "I believe
-it would be a good dress for a character to wear at a
costume ball," said its owner; "only I wouldn't know
what to call it. What would you say for a name?"
"Cruelty to animals," replied the friend.

To Color Canaries ^yj).— Editor Aiidubon
Magazine: Perhaps some of your young readers who
keep canaries might like to know how to color the
feathers red, and orange. It is very simple. When
the birds begin to moult keep them supplied with
plenty of red peppers, as much as they will eat, in
addition to their regular food. I have a canary who
is almost pink. From one of your members. —
MoNTiE Schuyler, Jr.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass.,
2nd mo., 20, 1886.

Editor Forest and Stream :

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Eorest and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

Cornwall-on-Hudson, N. Y., \
Y€b. 22, 1886. [

Editor Fo7-est and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P, Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Y€a. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Streat?i:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society'. Yery sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, [
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. \
Editor Forest and Stream :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people wha
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought
By want of thought
As well as by want of heart.

If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C, Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream :

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

MAY, 1888.

No. 4.

THE NIGHT HERON.

THE herons are a group of birds well
represented in America. They are
peculiar and but little known to the casual
observer, so that before turning our atten-
tion to the subject of this sketch a few
words may be said about the family as a
whole.

The herons, as is well known, are char-
acterized by long legs, necks and bills, are
water-loving birds, living about streams and
lakes, from which they draw their subsist-
ence. They are birds of rather sluggish
habit, slow-moving and with a slow but
powerful flight. On account of their quiet
ways, and the fact that their life is spent in
out-of-the-way places, they are seldom seen
except by ornithologists and gunners. Most
of the time they spend standing motionless
by a stream on the watch for fish, frogs or
lizards, and when anything living ventures
within their reach it is almost sure to be
transfixed by the sharp bill which the ready
bird darts out like lightning to seize its
prey.

An interesting account of the habits of
some of our South American species of
herons is given by Mr. W. H. Hudson, and
as the herons quite closely resemble one an-
other in their mode of life, what he says
about them will apply very well to those
which we know. He says:

"The heron has but one attitude — mo-
tionless watchfulness; so that, when not ac-
tually on the wing, or taking the few desul-

tory steps it occasionally ventures on, and
in whatever situation it may be placed, the
level ground, the summit of a tree, or in
confinement, it is seen drawn up, motionless,
and apparently apathetic. But when we
remember that this is the bird's attitude
during many hours of the night and day,
when it stands still as a reed in the water;
that in such a posture it sees every shy,
swift creature that glances by it, and darts
its weapon with unerring aim and lightning
rapidity, and with such force that I have
seen one drive its' beak quite through the
body of a fish very much too large for the
bird to swallow, and cased in bony armor,
it is impossible not to think that it is observ-
ant and keenly sensible of everything going
on around it."

The bitterns and more sluggish of the
herons, when driven from their haunts,,
fly only short distances of eighty or a hun-
dred yards, and again alight among the
rushes, "whence" Mr. Hudson, describing
further the habits of one South American
species, says "it is almost impossible to
drive or discover them;" and this he found
after careful investigation is due to the
fact that the bird, grasping a reed by its
feet and pressing against it with its tail,
lays its breast bone, neck and beak along
it in one straight line, which it maintains so
motionless that one may pass and repass it
within a few inches without recognizing it;
the most remarkable part of the perform-

70

The Night Heron.

ance being that the bird, although the hun-
ter may go round it and would readily
detect it by the variegated feathers of the
back, always keeps the sharp edge of its
rush-like breast toward him.

The herons are especially characterized
by their tireless watchfulness for their prey
and for their insatiable voracity. "In other
birds," says Mr. W. H. Hudson above
quoted, "repletion is invariably followed by
a period of listless inactivity, but the heron
digests his food so rapidly that however
much he devours he is always ready to
gorge again," but however abundant may be
his food supply, the heron makes no fat, and
very little flesh, so that when on the wing
he has no superabundant weight to carry.

Another very remarkable characteristic
of the herons is the presence of what are
called "powder down tracts," patches of
dense clammy, yellowish down on their
breasts. Of these the true herons have
three, and some naturalists have attributed
to them the freedom of these birds from
lice and vermin, but it is an old popular
belief that these patches glow with phos-
phorescent brilliance in the dark, furnishing
the heron with a convenient lantern for his
nocturnal fishing excursions.

The Night Heron is widely distributed
through the United States, but seems to
be more abundant near the seacoast than
on inland streams. In the Southern States
it may be seen at all seasons of the year,
but in New England it is known only as a
summer resident. We have found it com-
mon in California, both in winter and sum-
mer, but it is rarely seen in the interior,
though Dr. Coues has reported it from the
Red River of the North in Dakota. Its
northward migrations carry it a little be-
yond the United States. Although usually
moving south at the approach of cold
weather, it seems probable that some in-
dividuals pass the winter at least as far
north as New York city, for we know of
two having been killed in that neighbor-

hood in the month of January. The late
Dr. Brown succeeded in keeping one in
Boston until the middle of December.

The Night Heron is to a great extent
nocturnal in its habits, and besides this it
is rather a shy and wary bird. It is there-
fore not often seen, except by those who
visit its roosting or breeding grounds.
These are usually in swampy or near large
bodies of water, and many nests are usually
found together, these birds breeding in
colonies which often number several hun-
dred individuals. The nests are sometimes
placed high upon tall trees, are rough flat
platforms of twigs and are almost alto-
gether without lining. Each nest usually
contains four pale green eggs, which meas-
ure about two inches in length by one and a
half in breadth. The young leave the nest
in a couple of weeks after they are hatched
and scramble about the branches, to which
they cling firmly.

The voice of the Night Heron is rough
and hoarse, and from this it has received in
many parts of the country the local name
Qiimvk. Often at night this call may be
heard falling from the air above, and the
chirping, barking sound tells that a Night
Heron is flying over.

The food of this bird consists of fishes,
frogs, tadpoles, newts and various insects,
and no doubt it eats mice and snakes, if
the opportunity occurs.

Like all the herons, this species is ready
to fight if forced to do so, and can inflict
severe wounds with beak and claws "if in-
cautiously seized. The Night Herons have
favorite roosting places to which they re-
pair when they have satisfied their appetite,
to rest until the calls of hunger urge them
again to start out on their hunting expedi-
tions along the marshes where they feed.
One such place we remember in New Eng-
land, a rocky island rising above the salt
marsh which surrounds it and covered with
a growth of tall trees. If you walk by this
on a summer day you will startle hundreds

Birds at the Bath.

71

of quawks from their perches on the trees,
and with hoarse calls of alarm they will
wing their way out over the marshy flats of
the broad river which lies on one side of
their roost. Here among the reeds and
tall grass they find the food which best
suits them. If you conceal yourself in the
underbrush just before the tide becomes
high, you will see the birds one by one leave
the marsh and come back to the trees, there
to sit dreaming until they get hungry again,
and the water has fallen low enough for
them to feed.

The Night Heron is about two feet in
length, measured from the tip of his bill to
the end of his tail, and the spread of his
wings is more than three and a half feet.
The old birds have the bill black, and the
eyelids and naked skin in front of the eyes

yellow. The iris is red, the feet yellow. The
feathers on top of the head, the fore part
of the back and the long feathers of the
shoulders are greenish black. The fore-
head, front of neck, breast and belly are
white or cream color. The sides of the neck
are pale lilac, and the wings, lower part of
the back and tail, pale grayish blue. From
the back of the head several long slender
white feathers grow backward, as seen in
the plate, but these are lost after the breed-
ing season, and do not grow again until the
latter part of the next winter. The young
birds are quite different in appearance from
the old ones. They are plain brownish
birds, the edges of each feather being paler
than the center. The feathers of the back
and wings have each a long spot of brown-
ish white at the end.

BIRDS AT THE BATH

F'ORT HARRISON PRAIRIE was
very dry during July and August of
the past year, and springs of water are very
scarce. Having a number of colonies of
bees in the orchard I furnished them water
fresh every day. Our poultry also liking
the shade were furnished with drinking ves-
sels filled daily. The birds could not bear
the scorching heat, and sought the shade of
the apple trees in large numbers. I soon
found that they too needed water. They
did not molest the bee trough, but preferred
to sip where the poultry drank, if the hens
would allow them. I placed shallow dishes
where the chicks could not trouble the
birds, and the latter required more water
than four dozen fowls. A catbird would
hop on the edge of the dish, drink all it
wanted, then plunge in for a large bath,
throwing the water in every direction, hop
out, shake itself, and then jump in again,
to try to use up all the water. By a little
observation I found that one catbird that

was sitting on a nest of eggs, enjoyed a bath
twice a day, coming to the dish with mouth
open. The robins, thrushes, mockingbirds,
yellowhammers, jays, orioles, cedar birds,
redbirds and chippies found the dishes a
great convenience and came regularly to
quench their thirst and cool their breasts.

One hot afternoon a yellowhammer came
screaming to the dish for a drink, next two
cedar birds, then a mockingbird, and then
came a brown thrush which when nearing
the dish opened his long bill (and put back
his ears if he could) in a spiteful way at one
of the cedar birds, causing him to take a
seat in the gallery on an overhanging apple
tree limb. I doubt if the eyes of man ever
beheld before the sight of four varieties of
wild birds, drinking out of a dish six inches
wide and sixteen inches long. The dishes
were shallow, none deeper than two inches.
The yellowhammer seemed to be the
clumsiest bather, but took great pains to
straighten his plumage afterward.

Uncle Tony.

HENRY BER(;H,

IN the obituary list of the month of March
is registered the name of Henry Bergh,
the founder and president of the Society
for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals;
a man who, although he achieved no dis-
tinction in arms or art or science, was
nevertheless the acknowledged peer of the
nation's greatest, in any and every depart-
ment of thought or action.

Henry Bergh was essentially a man of
his age, a man who has impressed himself
ineffaceably upon his generation, and that
too for great good; a man who has moulded
the sentiments, and thereby so modified the
character of the nation that his life and
labors and personal characteristics are of
never failing national interest.

Henry Bergh, as would be inferred from

his name, is of German descent. His grand-
father, a ship carpenter by trade, came over
with his young wife from the Rhineland in
the early part of the eighteenth century,
and settled at Staatsburg-on-the-Hudson,
where he established a shipyard, which
proved a successful industry. In this he
was succeeded by his eldest son, Christian,
who married Miss Elizabeth Ivers, the
daughter of a Connecticut gentleman, by
whom he had several children, one of
whom, born in 1823, is the subject of our
sketch. The shipbuilding business, trans-
ferred to Brooklyn, came by inheritance to
him and his brother Edwin, but Henry sold
out his share and commenced a course of
study at Columbia College, reading for the
law, but never finishing;' his course. He had

Henry Bergh.

1Z

liberal means and appears to have been
seduced away from this dry study of the
law by a desire to travel. At any rate, on
resigning his studies he embarked on an
European tour which extended over five
years. While still young he married Miss
Taylor, a young lady of English parents, and
set out with her on a long course of travels
over Europe and the East, until wanting
rest, they settled for a time in the beauti
ful Rhmeland, the ancient home of his
family, where he employed his leisure time
in literary pursuits with more or less success.
One of his productions, " Love's Alterna-
tions," was very favorably received, but he
aimed at dramatizing his conceptions, and
wrote a number of plays which were con-
demned by unappreciative stage managers.

Returning to New York in 1861 he ac-
cepted the appointment of Secretary of
Legation at St. Petersburg under Cassius
M. Clay, and from this he was promoted
to the post of Vice-Consul, but he sought
relief from his official duties in 1864, and
returned to America animated by an in-
domitable determination to establish a so-
ciety for the prevention of cruelty to
animals on the model of that already re-
cently established in England under the
auspices of the Earl of Harrowby, whose
acquaintance he made in the interval be-
tween the resignation of his official ap-
pointment and his return to America. He
was forty-one years old when he entered
upon the life work which has won him a
nation's respect and admiration.

The first year after his return to his na-
tive land was spent in maturing his plans for
the establishment of a society for the pre-
vention of cruelty to animals, and for the
suppression of the " cruelists," as he called
those who ill-treated the dumb beasts, call-
ing attention to the subject by numerous
lectures. The plea for justice and mercy
to animals was so novel, among a people
whose code of morality embodied the pro-
vision " that every man had a right to do

as he liked with his own," that Henry
Bergh was opposed as a crank and fanatic,
and his personal peculiarities and char-
acteristics subjected to ridicule. But
Henry Bergh was essentially a man of his
age, his humanitarian sentiments were the
product of nineteenth century civilization
and softening of manners, and in giving
expression to them he but formulated ideas,
which called forth a sympathetic response
from thousands in whose breasts similar
ideas were already rudely shaping them-
selves. He accordingly found numerous
supporters, and a society was formed, which
by his indomitable energy and personal
influence at Albany he succeeded in get-
ting incorporated on the 10th of April, 1866.

He and his wife immediately conveyed
valuable property to the society; others
came forward with contributions, the best
public opinion was enlisted in behalf of
the reformers, branch societies were rapid-
ly established in other States and Terri-
tories, and the movement led by one man
soon proved itself a complete success.

Louis Bonard, a Parisian, bequeathed a
hundred and fifty thousand dollars to the
parent society, which has never been in
need of funds.

The society soon made its power felt.
Laws were enacted making cruelty to ani-
mals of all classes an offense, and Henry
Bergh, who had been made president of
the society, was empowered by the At-
torney-General of the State, and District-
Attorney of the city, to represent them in
all cases of this class. The society had the
administration of the law in its. own hands,
and it soon began to be whispered among
the hackmen and drivers of all sorts that
the eccentric looking Henry Bergh was
"the law and the gospel also in the city
of New York."

Indomitable courage was necessary to
the enforcement of the laws prohibiting
cock fighting, rat baiting, dog fighting and
other brutal sports, but Henry Bergh en-

74

Henry Bergh.

forced them fearlessly, never shrinking from
encounters involving personal danger in
pursuit of his self-imposed duty.

Since its organization the society has
prosecuted over ten thousand cases, and the
law is now so generally known that little
attempt is made to evade it openly. Pub-
lic sentiment on the subject has been so
thoroughly aroused during the past twenty-
five years, that it requires some stretch of
the imagination to realize the vast change
that has been wrought by the movement
inaugurated by the subject of our sketch.

When Henry Bergh began his crusade
there was not a State in the Union which
had any law making cruelty to animals an
offense. Now all, or nearly all, have stat-
utes bearing upon the subject. It may be
urged, perhaps, with some show of reason,
that poor men and women too are com-
pelled to toil while they are sick and sore,
and that a truehumanitarianism would have
begun with them, rather than with the
beasts, but as a simple matter of fact the
greater difficulty of fixing the responsi-
bility in the case of suffering humanity
is the chief obstacle in the way of provid-
ing remedial means, and perhaps the first
best practical step in the direction of re-
dress of human wrongs is the rigid enforce-
ment of the law against injustice to the
brute creation.

Societies for the prevention of cruelty
to children are the natural and inevitable
outcome of Henry Bergh's reform move-
ment, for no community that made it an
offense to ill-treat the dumb beasts, would
long tolerate the pleas of cruel parents that
they have the right to do as they like with
their own children.

As might be inferred of a man who had
worked out so distinctive a career for him-
self, Henry Bergh's personal appearance
was decidedly characteristic. The well
rounded dome of his head rose above a
face of extreme length, expressive of an
unusual admixture of lugubriousness, mirth,

gentleness and firmness, but although he
was sometimes irreverently styled "the
knight of the rueful countenance," his
face was both a pleasant and an intellectual
one; he had a tall slight figure, and was
fastidious in the matter of dress, but the
characteristic individuality of his person
appeared to extend to his dress also.

He died at his residence. No. 429 Fifth
avenue, on the morning of the 12th of
March. He had been suffering for a long
time from chronic bronchitis and enlarge-
ment of the heart, but although he had been
out of the house only a week before his
death, the event had been long anticipated.
He left no children, but his nephew and
namesake Henry, the son of his brother
Edwin, has long been associated with him
in the conduct of the affairs of the Society,
and by the terms of his will it appears that
he looked forward with hope that his nephew
would succeed him as its president.

The post is no longer one of unusual dif-
ficulty, nor one calling for exceptional
powers. The humanitarian sentiment of
the age has been aroused into activity and
organized, and with the whole weight of
the law on the side of the organization, its
power is practically despotic. Matters
were very different in 1866, when Henry
Bergh entered the lists single handed
against all the combined ruffianism of the
country, and called on all good men to
rally to his support. Purity of motive, de-
votion to his sense of right and duty, in-
domitable energy, courage, perseverance,
tact, persuasive eloquence, all these were
eminently characteristics of Henry Bergh.
In a word he was a leader of men, a man
who impressed himself forcibly upon his
generation, who exerted a marked influence
upon its sentiments and conduct, a man of
whom in fact it may justly be said that he
has made the conditions of life for man and
beast more tolerable; that the world, and
especially his own country, is the better for
his having lived.

CITY BIRDS,

TO us who dwell in cities, the hints that
nature gives of herself are so faint
and few that it scarcely occurs to us to try
and make a connected story of them. We
walk between our high walls day after day,
unheeding the weeds that grow for us in
the cracks of the pavement, oblivious of
the fact that through the slit between the
housetops we can see the stars come out
each night, aud perfectly unconscious of
those go-betweens of flowers and stars, the
song birds. Many a time have they looked
down from the tree tops on the corpses of
their cousins adorning the hats of one-half
the passing women, and heard the other
half murmur indignantly at the barbarous
custom, and vaguely wonder how those
same dead birds would look alive. " We
bird protectors," say they, "would so
gladly know our friends, but how can we ?
There are no birds here in the city but the
pigeons and English sparrows."

Are there not ? We continue to walk
unheeding, till some day there flits before
our astonished eyes a stray woodpecker,
who shows us for five delightful minutes
his scarlet head, the brilliant black and
white of his plumage; you hear his energetic
hammering on the elm where he has lighted,
you see him walk around its stem as though
he owned it; a second later he is gone,
and " all creation widens in your view."
This is interesting. If there is one bird
here, there may be more; if the rest are as
handsome as this one, they are worth seeing,
and straightway you begin to look for them.
You strain your eyes among the dingy
trees, to be rewarded sometimes by a
glimpse of the warbling vireo; you extend
your walks to the suburbs, where in the
open space before the houses, you may
catch sight of whole troops of jolly robins,
hopping, running, gamboling on the grass
plots. At first you probably know not so
much as their name, but you begin to rea-

lize that there is more to be seen here than
you had thought. Accordingly you hunt
out an old field-glass from your uncle's
army trunk, or you take an opera-glass, or
better yet, you take just your own eyes,
with the resolve to use them better than
ever before, and you begin to make morn-
ing excursions — the sooner after sunrise,
the better.

When you have done this twice, you are
an enthusiast. You come in to breakfast
radiant, in raptures, having heard the jubi-
lant morning song of the robin, having
found a bluebird's nest in a decaying post
of the band pavillion in the park, or hav-
ing met your first waxwing which you recog-
nized at sight from the description in the
Audubon, and with which you are hopeless-
ly in love. This, at least, was very much
the way in which I began to observe. There
is probably no one in the United States
who knew so little about birds.

For years the bluejays had been lighting
in an apotheosis of blue and white upon
the clothes-poles in the back yard; for
years the blackbirds had built and paired
in the steeple opposite; the pine grosbeak
on its southern journey had lit in the maple
outside my window, and the purple martins
sat in rows upon the telegraph wires, yet I
did not even know of their existence. It
was the sight of a family of robins that, late
one August, reminded me of other days and
oth^r scenes, in which I had known a lover
of birds, and thought to myself "Why should
not I too have friends among the birds?"

It would take a book to tell all that I
learned in the next year, and how I learned
it. You know how I began, but before
long the city streets set too narrow bounds
to my explorations; the birds, though charm-
ing, were too few to satisfy my new-born
zeal for knowledge; it was unpleasant to
use a field-glass where there were more
spectators than birds, and impossible to

76

City Bii'ds.

traverse a crowded street with one's eyes
leveled at the third story windows. In
fine, I longed for a wider field.

But the field was by no means easy to
find. The suburbs of a city are neither
agreeable nor safe for a solitary wanderer,
whose eccentric attitudes, whose field-glass,
whose gaze intent on space, and whose
rapturous exclamations are calculated to
make her anywhere an object of attention.
She must have a place not too populous to
disturb her pursuits, nor too lonely to af-
ford her protection; it must be sylvan for
the birds and urban for herself; it must
abound in forests and policemen; it must
be near enough to the city for frequent
visits, yet not so near as to be unvisited by
the shyest dwellers in the woods; it must
be safe, secluded, convenient, frequented
and rural.

And a place was found which met all
these requirements — the cemetery. It lay
just on the borders of the city, an inclosure
of fifty or sixty acres of rolling ground, the
greater part kept like a garden, with long
flowerbeds among its clumps of beech and
evergreen; in its neglected hollows, crowded
with fern and wild sunflower, the bluebirds
and goldfinches chased each other, while
from the alder thickets on the hillside, song
sparrows chorused all the afternoon. On
the sunny uplands, flocks of the golden-
winged woodpecker — the pigeon wood-
pecker, with its dove-like eyes — waded
through the warm grass; a few acres of
wild forest land made a covert of oaks and
beeches for a multitude of warblers, and
for the rest the bird was hard to suit who
could find no place to his mind either
among the hemlocks, tangled inextricably
with woodbine, or where the graveled
walks ran through trim rows of pear trees,
or the bittersweet ran wild over the crumb-
ling granite basin of the fountain.

Among the graves I did not wander
much. It was from behind a marble head
stone in the spring, that I watched with

breathless interest the nest-building of a
pair of brown thrashers, in the lower
branches of an arbor vitae, and it was on
the point of some white shaft that the
robin and the bluejay sat, with conscious
pride, to display their charms. But it was
not while they posed that one learned to
know them best. Down in some of the
many valleys where the meadowlarks rose
from the long grass, or a hundred yards be-
yond, where the redstart built among the
alders, and the ovenbird and the Maryland
yellowthroat tripped and flew; or the her-
mit thrush in the black depths of a spruce,
sang out at sunset — these were the spots
where one learned without a book, and car-
ried back to town that sense of relations —
an instructive sense of the fitness of time
and place — that makes one recognize at a
glance the difference between the birds
which float and the birds which flutter, the
sprightliness of one family, the elegance of
another, the vagabond boldness of a third.
This bird which steps about with dignity
under yon solitary apple tree at the " town-
house," has nothing in common with the
other which rustles through its branches
and is gone before you can do more than
recognize the general roundness, restless-
ness and kaleidoscopic coloring of the
typical warbler.

It is not necessary to know the birds'
names, to know the birds themselves. One
can do as Adam did and give them names.
To one who has been with them for an
autumn, long forgotten bits of bird lore,
picked up unconsciously, come back. The
birds grow familiar and soon they will have
classified themselves. Nothing but a wren,
we are certain, though we never saw one
before, could stick its tail up so straight;
nothing but a kingbird would dart out of
a tree in that determined way, and then
settle quietly down in the same place, like
the King of France and his ten thousand
men. Those little brownish, mottled birds
all unavoidably suggest the English spar-

City Bii-ds

77

row. We had no idea there were so many
kinds, but they must be sparrows, and it is
much easier to tell them apart than we
should have thought. The snowy front of
the whitethroat, the "breastpin" of the
*song sparrow, the white tail feathers of the
grassfinch (vesper sparrow), the red cap of
the chippy — all these mark the individuals
as plainly as the general coloring marks the
family.

I well remember the process, as delight-
ful as it was gradual, by which I made the
acquaintance of the chickadees. The first
time we met was on the occasion of
their arrival in winter quarters, and a
whole flock of the wee, downy, tricksy
things, were celebratmg it with all their
might. The fluffiness, the bright eyes, the
quick movements and the general hilar-
ity of the new comers, made me christen
them " titmice " on the spot. I had no idea
what a titmouse might be, but feeling that
no name could be more appropriate, I
gave it to them, and called them so for six
months before finding out that I had fol-
lowed a true instinct. The chickadee is
really a titmouse.

No other bird has such an unmistak-
able way of displaying himself among the
winter weeds. He flutters down upon
some dry and bending stalk, and swinging
round upon it with all the recklessness of
a boy on a new trapeze, shakes down the
rustling seed in showers, catching it some-
times as it falls. You will see a dozen
of them in some empty lot, as happy with
their few coarse wild hemp plants as in the
fields on a June day — probably happier.
As the cold and the snow increase, and
seeds grow scarce, they will " take to the
road " like bold highwaymen, snatching
what they can fairly under the horses' hoofs
and seeming to find bits to their liking in
the coldest, freshest snowdrifts.

The bluejay is a frequent visitor in town,
and so is the hairy woodpecker. His name,
by the way, is as hideous as that of most

other members of his family, for the hand-
some fellows are libeled as the " red-
headed," the "three-toed," the "yellow-
bellied," and worse, as their common de-
scriptive names. The brilliant tricolor
(red-headed) woodpecker is often seen in
the parks, and the warbling vireo likes
nothing better than to travel from tree
top to tree top down a crowded street.
Only he is quick and quiet, and if you are
to see him, the best way is from an upper
window, as he slips out of one hiding place
into another.

The most interesting of our discoveries
may be made in town. It was in the heart
of the business part of the city that I saw a
bird which in spite of the weight of evi-
dence against his appearing in that place
or at that time, I shall persist in believing
that rare visitant, the blue grosbeak. The
exquisite cedarbird is quite willing to visit
us occasionally, and I have ?een a whole
flock of them make their headquarters for
a week in a poor, bare, straggling tree,
standing alone amid forlorn back yards,
surrounded by ash barrels and wood sheds.
Even the shy brown creeper, whose one ob-
ject in life, when he is at home, seems to
be to put a tree between himself and all ob-
servers, will astonish you some morning by
gliding in from the woods and slipping
around the trunk of the Cottonwood on the
corner as if he had always lived there.

I have spoken of the comparative ease
with which one learns to classify the small-
er birds in the two great families of finches
(sparrows) and warblers. For the larger
and more conspicuous birds, too, one
scarcely needs a teacher. We know, the
very first time the scarlet tanager flits be-
fore us, as he may in the still, shady grounds
of the hospital, or high among the trees
fringing the water course of the park, that
here is the "fire bird.' The brilliant
grackles, the " red-winged " and "yellow-
shouldered " reed birds, you know at first
sight are nothing but blackbirds, and again,

City Birds.

there can be no mistaking the business-
Uke way in which a woodpecker flies
straight to his tree, and rests there "as if
he had been thrown at it and stuck." The
woodpecker's charming cousin, the nut-
hatch, you are almost sure to see, too. He
will be walking down a tree, head foremost,
his constant and invariable habit. Some-
times it is necessary for him to go up, so as
to start over again, but he will not do this
if he thinks you are watching him, for he
knows that his other performance is a
unique accomplishment among birds.

After one has gained a general familiar-
ity with the commonest birds, every glimpse
will tell something new; their flight, their
food, their song, their favorite perching
places, their habits, gain fresh interest for
you every day. Such as we know become
more sharply and accurately distinguished
from such as we do not know, and a single
glance will often tell us enough of some
new visitor, to enable us, if not to recog-
nize him exactly, at least to tell his con-
nections, and place him approximately
where he belongs. On one memorable
walk through the river bottom of the Mis-
sissippi, I added at least half a dozen
birds to my list in this way.

I have given no more than the barest
hints to indicate what can be done by a
city-bred member of the Audubon Society,
but they are hints that can be made a
source of much pleasure and knowledge.
The series ofarticles in the Audubon Maga-
zine has said all that can be said as to the
methods of work, besides giving in detail
the marks by which to recognize the birds
one may see. All that is attempted here
is to tell a little of what can be done " in
the birding line " even by those who have
the fewest opportunities. For those who
live in the West, it is interesting to watch
for the birds which are less common in the
Eastern States, and particularly such as have
never been adequately described. There
are many scarcely known species on the

plains, and even in the Mississippi Valley
one may meet with birds which are dis-
tinctively western, though well enough
known to all who have given any of their
attention to bird study. Two of the hand-
somest are the brass grackle and the yel-
low-headed blackbird — both of them strik-
ing illustrations of the truth that there is
no such thing as a black blackbird. You
may find the graceful shorelark in abund-
ance, nesting on the bleak prairies as early
as March, and coming down fearlessly to
the roadside. These three, with the rose-
breasted grosbeak, the bluejay, the north-
ern shrike and the golden-winged wood-
pecker, are among the most beautiful of the
Minnesota birds.

I have given a list m conclusion of some
fifty of the birds oftenest seen, giving the
locality. The first of these divisions, the
birds seen in the city limits, is necessarily
the smallest, and each succeeding list, if
completed, would contain most of the birds
mentioned in those preceding it. Thus,
under D, I might put almost all the fifty;
I have, however, given only two birds
which I met nowhere but in the course of
an occasional drive through the lake and
farm country round St. Paul, Minn.

List A. Birds Seen in City Streets. — Purple martin,
white-bellied swallow, robin, junco, chipping spar-
row, goldfinch, chickadee, red-polled linnet, wax-
wing, bluebird, warbling vireo, purple grackle (crow
blackbird), hairy woodpecker, downy woodpecker,
pine grosbeak, brown creeper, bluejay, ovenbird.

List B. In the Pai-ks. — Tricolor woodpecker,
golden-winged woodpecker, nuthatch, Baltimore
oriole, wood pewee, scarlet tanager, least flycatcher,
yellow-rumped warbler, crown sparrow.

List C. In the Cemetery. — Wood thrush, hermit
thrush, phoebebird, black and white creeper, yellow-
bellied woodpecker, brown thrasher, catbird, Mary-
land yellowthroat, redstart, kingbird, yellow-winged
sparrow, song sparrow, Blackburnian warbler, red-
eyed vireo, red-bellied nuthatch, rose-breasted
grosbeak.

List D. In Environs of City. — Brass grackle,
bobolink, indigo bird, grass finch, fox sparrow,
shorelark, meadowlark, yellow-headed blackbird,
shrike (butcher bird), kingfisher.

Harriette H. Boardman.

HOW I LEARNED TO LOVE AND NOT TO KILL.

BY A MEMBER OF THE AUDUBON SOCIETY.

I KNOW that I was not an exception-
ally cruel boy, and yet there was a
time when I took delight in killing, just
for the sake of killing, everything that could
run or swim or fly. I do not think that
any one ever told me it was wrong or
showed me in any way how useless or cruel
it was to go banging about the fields with
my gun, ready to take the innocent life of
any and every moving thing, be it bird on
branchor tiny young squirrel not yet aware
of the dangers and wickedness of this great
rolling world.

How I ever managed to shoot the beauti-
ful creatures, without getting a great pain
in my own heart, I am sure I cannot tell
you now, but I am certain that I must have
had a very strange and different kind of a
heart then — sound asleep perhaps, all the
time. It seems to have taken a long time
to teach me how brutal a thing I was, but
I shall try and tell you how it came about,
though it was not all at once, as you shall
see.

One day in midwinter, when the snow lay
deep in the woods, three of us were out
rabbit hunting. I was standing in an open
spot waiting for a sound of the dogs, when
all three of them came yelping out of the
brush close upon the heels of a terrified lit-
tle rabbit, which was making but poor speed
through the drifted snow. Almost more
excited than the dogs, for I was only twelve
years old, I raised my gun and fired just as
the foremost dog pounced upon the little
creature, and having rescued my prize from
Hector, put him carefully into the wide
deep pocket of my new hunting coat. I
killed two other rabbits that morning, and
at last approached the old farmhouse where
my companions had arrived before me. I
put my gun in the house and came out to

display my game. I drew out one rabbit
from the left pocket, and one from the rear
pocket, quite proud of my success as a
sportsman, then I went down into the wide
deep pocket for my third and last rabbit.
Out he came and was dropped upon the
porch beside the others, when to my aston-
ishment and the great glee of my com-
panions, up jumped Brer Rabbit and went
scampering off toward the woods, as fast as
his poor cramped legs would carry him.

Certainly he had well earned his liberty af-
ter that terrifying day's ride in the clutches
of his worse foe, but it would never do to
be laughed at, anything rather than lose my
reputation as a butcher, so running in for
my gun I went hurrying after Mr. Bunnie,
following his tracks in the snow. It was
hard work for the poor tired little fellow,
just escaped from such a dreadful exper-
ience, and he had but reached the margins
of the wood, floundering along in the deep
snow, when this awful boy came running
and panting after him. There he sat rest-
ing on the clear white drifts, the beautiful
little fellow, apparently quite dazed by the
wonderfully bright world to which he had
been so miraculously restored; but there
was no eye for his beauty and no sympathy
for his sad plight in the monster there be-
hind. I remember, even now, as I raised
my gun to fire, how a sudden pity came in-
to my heart for the poor little tired and de-
fenseless creature, so soon to be free again
and back with his lonely fellows in the
burrow, but there were the boys already
laughing at me, and so bang went my gun.
Still Bunnie jumped wearily on, for I had
missed him. Certainly any but a monster
might have had mercy after that, but there
were the boys laughing harder than ever,
and the spirit of my wicked old ancestor

8o

How I Learned to Love and Not to Kill.

Bloodyhand urging me on to slay, so put-
ting my gun this time close to the little chap
I ended his terrible fright with his life.

That was the last rabbit I ever killed.
All that evening a great sorrow grew in my
heart for the poor little fellow, so beautiful
there in the white snow drift. I hated my-
self for my cruelty, and at length, unable to
check the tide of my regret, burst into
tears, and sat there by the fire sobbing bit-
terly, though I would not tell the other
boys the cause. They would laugh at me
again, laugh at me even because I was piti-
ful. What would I not have given only to
restore the life of that one little animal, so
innocent, so harmless and so beautiful ?
For days I was haunted by the thought of
how I had chased that little rabbit only to
slay him when " all the pleasure of posses-
sion ended as soon as he was dead."

During the following summer my father
took us all to White Bear Lake in Minne-
sota, where, before the completion of the
railroad, everything was wild and undis-
turbed. There was a Captain Carter who
used to shoot well with the rifle, and it
seemed to be one of his greatest ambitions
to kill a loon, that large and beautiful bird
known to naturalists as " the great north-
ern diver," because of the remarkable way
in which they dive and remain underwater.
So quick indeed is this great bird, that it
is almost impossible to hit one of them
with a ball, for they dive at the flash, and
are gone from the surface before the shot
reaches the ripples they have left behind.

I soon learned to love the loons ; they
were such strangely shy creatures and filled
me with longings for the far off and lonely
places reached by their swift flight. Hard
enough was it for a loon to leave the lake,
and only with a good wind to aid, could this
strange bird lift himself over the treetops,
but once in air, with a strange cry like a
weird laughter, he would circle round and
round, and at length shoot away like an
arrow for some distant and more lonely

spot, disappearing from my longing sight,
for somehow I always wanted to go with
the loons.

One day Captain Carter had shot many
times at a large loon — until exasperated by
his failure, he determined upon a new way
of loon hunting. Putting up a board screen
to hide the flash of his rifle, he at length
succeeded in hitting the bird in the left
wing. The loon nevertheless dived, but
being too badly hit to remain long under,
came repeatedly to the surface, and was at
length captured, still alive, by the delight-
ed captain, who brought his prize to the
little hotel, where he was soon surrounded
by a crowd of curious and exclaiming
guests.

I think it was certainly one of the most
pathetic sights I have ever seen. There on
the ground sat the beautiful bird, head
erect, with the white ring round its coal
black throat, and the softest melancholy in
the large eyes, that were fixed with longing
on the far away lake. Unable to stand on
the land, it lay there wounded and helpless
with such a dignity that all were moved
who saw it.

" Captain," said a gentleman in the circle,
" I'll give you ten dollars to set that bird
free."

The captain hesitated.

" Gentlemen," said the captain, " I would
gladly do as you desire, for I feel as badly
about this as any of you, but the bird is too
deeply wounded to live — it is too late."

This incident made a deep impression
upon me, and I have evef since had such a
sentiment in regard to the loon, that though
often in camps further north where food
was scarce, I have discouraged my Indian
camp followers from killing him. One
evening, however, I lay camped on an island
in Ogitchie Muncie (Kingfisher) Lake. The
Indians had gone off in the birch canoes
in search of our supper, for our flour was
exhausted and indeed we were all very
hungrv. The lake was smooth as a glassy

Hozu I Learned to Love and Not to Kill.

mirror, there was not a whisper even in the
tallest pines. Suddenly, afar across the
lake, from the deep recesses of some lonely
bay, came a long, low, melancholy cry of
a loon, the saddest, wildest cry in all the
world. Heard usually at evening when the
wind is hushed, this cry was always to me
the most pathetic sound, and I longed to
comfort the poor lonely bird. Soon after,
there was the report of a gun, another and
another, and then silence for a long time.
I waited for half an hour, and there were
no noises until I heard the soft scraping of
canoe prows on the sands and knew that
the Indians had come back to camp. I
sprang up and went down to meet them,
and alas ! even as I feared, there was
Shingibish holding up the dead loon by the
neck, and calling out Mang-mang (the name
of the loon in Ojibway) in evident oride at
his success.

I looked sadly at the beautiful bird,
smoothed the white feathers on his ruffled
throat, and then turning to Shingibish I
said : " Bad luck come to us now, Shingi-
bish (diving duck), because you killed your
brother."

It turned out even as I said, and on the
next day in a storm of wind and rain, my
canoe went to pieces on the rapids, and the
few remaining luxuries of our provisions
were lost beyond recovery. Never after
that did they kill a loon, though on great
Saganaga Lake they laughed at us and dived
about us by hundreds.

There away north of Lake Superior, in
the dense forests of Minnesota and Canada,
is a region as yet hardly explored. Dark
pines and balsams cover the rocky hills and
mountains, and great lakes of crystal clear-
ness shine out everywhere between —
linked in an endless chain that stretches
from the Lake of the Woods to Superior,
the greatest of them all.

Here it was, in the heart of these deep

forests, that I was to learn my most beauti-
ful lessons about birds and animals, for
here with only a small white tent for a roof,
and a few Indians as companions, I lived
many days with the wild creatures of the
woods. I call them wild creatures, but in-
deed they were not wild at all, so unused
to harm and the cruelties of men and boys,
that they hardly knew fear. Every day,
when we spread our cloth for dinner in
camp, came the little birch birds to perch
on the pans and hop jauntily among the
dishes — they had never been hurt by any
one, why should they be afraid? Squirrels,
too, came to dine with us, and I have had
the younger ones sit upon my outstretched
foot, to nibble at a morsel snatched without
fear from our frugal board. They have
never been stoned, and shot and hunted to
death, why should they not be gentle and
tame and trustful as God made them ?

Here the ruffed grouse would perch in a
tree quite secure until you picked them off
with your hand, and the little spruce birds
were quite as friendly as a trained canary.

So I established a sort of fellowship with
the wild things of the woods, and learned
a new and wonderful pleasure in finding
myself no longer a fearful enemy to these
pretty creatures. I lost all my old desire
to kill, for I saw into the homes of little
birds and timid animals, and it seemed aw-
ful enough and barbarous beyond words,
to bring ruin to these charming little fami-
lies. And so must it be with any one of
you who will but take the pains to go and
see the wild creature in its home places.

All of you can not perhaps reach the far
away places of which I have been speaking,
but you can learn the delight of friendship
with dumb creatures anywhere in your
home woods. When once you have felt
this delight, you will throw away your guns,
I know, and instead will carry a crust of
bread or an apple to the woods.

W. M. Chauvenet.

BIRD HISTORIES.*
" KUKA VITZA "—THE CUCKOO.

WITHIN an ancient country called
Servia, watered by the great
Danube, and which is now a part of the
Turkish Empire, where the people are very
fond of quaint legends, the European cuc-
koo is called Kukavitza; and, as we al-
most might guess, this word, more Russian
than Turkish, is the name of a young girl.
The legend declares that long ago a young
maiden of this name was so sorrowful ow-
ing to the death of a brother whom she
fondly loved, and mourned so long that
she became a bird of the cuckoo kind, a
" kukavitza."

In Bohemia several stories of the cuc-
koo's ancestry are preserved in legendary
lore. One seems to be not older than the
Christian religion, but there is something of
Pagan mythology in its imagery. It says :
" One day Jesus of Nazareth was passing a
baker's shop, and directed one of his
disciples to go in and ask for some new
bread. The baker refused to give it; then
his wife and their six daughters proved
themselves to be charitable by secretly
conveying some bread to the hands of the
followers of Christ. In reward for this be-
nevolent deception, those seven women
were placed in a group among the starry
constellations, and named the Pleiades (we
must not ask how soon after the bread was
given were the women elevated so high).
The penurious father was, at the same time
we suppose, turned into a cuckoo. Apart
from this story it has long been said that
the voice of the cuckoo is heard in rural
places as long as the Pleiades, the " Seven
Stars," are visible in the sky above the
horizon. The saying must have come from
this legend, or else the legend was woven

* Our young readers are informed that this series
of legendary "histories" in a few words, are not
designed particularly to relate the Natural History
of the birds mentioned.

into the astronomy of these famous bright
"sister stars," as poets have named them.
In Bohemia at this day the cuckoo is re-
garded as a sort of apparition of a baker.
And there among the young maidens an-
other story is told of this bird, as follows :
The cuckoo once wore a crown of feathers,
until at a wedding of two birds, the bride-
groom being a hoopoe, the crown was
loaned to some other bird and was never
returned to cuckoo, who ever since cries
k/ukii, which signifies "you rascal !"

An Albanian tale of olden days says :
There were once two brothers and a sister.
The sister somehow by accident pierced
one brother's heart with her scissors, and
he died. She and the living brother
grieved long, until they were transformed
into cuckoo birds whose plaintive note ku-
ku, ku-ku, means "where are you?"

In Slavonic mythology, Zywiec was the
ruler of the universe. This god of Paga-
nism, like Zeus, the supreme among the
Greeks, the Jupiter among the Romans,
used to change himself into a cuckoo in
order to tell men how many years they
were to live on earth.

Even now, in Poland and other Slavonic
regions, it is commonly believed that a per-
son, young or old, is to live only so many
years as a cuckoo's note is heard repeated
for the first time in spring. At one period
the killing of a cuckoo in Poland was a
capital crime.

In the writings of an early monk, it is
related that a certain brother recluse be-
came weary of his monastic life of seclusion,
and solemnly asked a cuckoo to tell him
the number of years he was yet to live.
The bird answered twenty-tivo. The monk
thought this number would allow him a
season of the world's pleasures, and after-
ward time enough to think of the heavenly
state, and so he became again a worlding.

A Plea for Our Birds.

Alas ! he was called to die much sooner
than the bird-oracle had declared, and with-
out religious preparation !

In ornithology there is a genus of cuckoos,
and therefore numerous species or kinds.
All have not the same melodious, plaintive
voice, the soft Jwoho-Jw, and another sound
uttered while on the wing, like a low trill

on a flute, probably the call for the mate.
The " Honey Guide " of Africa is a cuckoo
— cucidus. One poet calls the cry of the
English cuckoo "a wandering voice, seem-
ing to float hither and thither." The fe-
male bird seems rather selfish; she lays
her eggs in some other bird's nest, leaving
them to be hatched by a stranger.

Emily Thacher Bennett.

A PLEA FOR OUR BIRDS.

IN the summer of i8 — , my home, for a
few weeks, was at a farmer's house
among the hills of northern Massachusetts.
My favorite retreat, when I could quietly
read, write or work, was in a grove a short
distance from the house. Taking my camp
chair, I could then, "fancy free," do what-
ever I wished without intrusion or disturb-
ance. The native songsters of the woods,
regardless of my quiet presence, made the
air vocal with their sweet melody, while the
shy squirrels and gentle rabbits would often
venture from their hiding places to pick up
the crumbs and nuts with which I supplied
myself for their benefit.

Below me, for it was on a hillside where
my cosy Jiook was situated, murmured a
silver brook through a green meadow
where a few native elms spread their grace-
ful branches, among which the bolder and
sun-loving birds built their nests and
warbled their songs.

A more restful retreat for a tired body
and mind could not often be found. The
morning hours of a week had been thus de-
lightfully spent with pen, book and needle,
enjoying the carols of the sweet vocalists,
and making acquaintance of the furry in-
habitants of my charming grove.

But alas, one morning as I seated my-
self on my throne, for I felt like a rural
queen over my undisputed realm, I was
welcomed by no tones of musical welcome
from my subjects. Not one of my four-

footed friends came forth to partake of the
bountiful feast I had scattered around me.
Grieved at being thus forsaken, I looked
around to rind an answer to the question.
What has happened ? I soon discovered
the solution, for emerging from the grove
I saw a man with a gun over his shoulder,
and a basket in his hand, containing, I had
reason to believe, the lifeless remains of
many of the harmless birds which the day
previous had furnished the music for my
woodland orchestra. Just then he raised
his gun and discharged it, and from the
branches of an elm in the meadow, fell
fluttering to the ground a golden oriole.
He threw it, still alive, into his basket,
there to die a lingering death. He then
stalked away too far from me to listen to
any remonstrances, which would probably
have been wholly unheeded had he heard
them.

I took my book and work and walked
away, my kingdom having lost its charms.
As I slowly sauntered through the grove,
meditating sadly on this wanton, cruel
sport, I heard low cries of distress proceed-
ing from a nest which I had often watched
as the patient mother robin sat on it, or
flew off to bring food for her brood. On
examination I found four tiny birds
motherless and hungry, their mother being,
I supposed, in the basket of the ruthless
gunner, destined to ornament the bonnet
of some woman, the mother, perhaps, of lit-

84

A Pica for Our Birds.

tie children. Could she have heard the
wails of these little orphans, so soon to die
of starvation, would she ever again adorn
her hat with the plumage of birds ? Al-
ways in the future will such decorations re-
mind me of those piteous cries.

Another season, to avoid the renewal of
these painful scenes, I went to the seashore.
There I was never weary of the sight of old
ocean as it rolled in tidal waves on the
beach, the white surf beating in musical
rhythm over the fissured rocks. In one of
these sheltered cavities I found a seat
commanding a view of the crescent-shaped
shore for a long distance, and the marshes
left by the retreating tide.

Here I spent my mornings watching the
sea birds as they alighted to search among
the sea weeds and grasses for their food,
then soaring aloft till they were lost to
sight in the blue ether.

Here might the naturalist find the avocet^
or lawyer bird, as it is called, from the flip-
pancy of its tongue, and perpetual clamor
as it utters its sharp note of click, click:
the curlew, with its pale brown plumage
and white breast thickly spotted with red,
the red-backed and the red-breasted sand-
pipers searching among the sea weeds
for bivalve shells; the willet, whose loud
cries of //// will-willet sounding almost
incessantly along the marshes, may be heard
at a distance of more than a mile. It is
said that the affection and anxiety of this
bird for its eggs and young are truly pa-
thetic. " If a person enters the marsh he
is beset by the willet skimming over his
head and uttering a loud, sharp, clicking
noise, as he approaches his nest."

Here also come the skimmer or cutwater,
the greater or lesser tern, small birds of
the duck kind ; the red-breasted mer-
ganser, the beautiful and graceful goos-
ander, which is in great demand for mil-
linery purposes. But alas ! it was not the
lover of birds for the interest he feels in
their habits, who came here with harmless

intent, but the fowler for mere wanton love
of sport, or to supply the milliners with the
beautiful plumage, whose presence was
announced by the screams and sudden
flight of the frightened birds.

Alas ! for my quiet resting place. Where
can I go to enjoy the health-restoring tones
of ocean breeze, or the fragrant aroma of the
pines and balsams of our inland groves, and
escape the sight and sound of the death-
dealing gun ?

Until fashion, woman's despotic tyrant,
is dethroned, and public sentiment is
aroused to the cruelty and immorality of
this traffic in these innocent songsters of
the woods, these scenes will continue to be
re-enacted.

Women are not heartless, but they have
not been awakened to the extent and enorm-
ity of this wholesale slaughtering of the
sweet songsters.

When they see the beautiful wings,
breasts, and even whole bodies of birds on
the counters and in the windows of mil-
liners' stores, the questions where and how
they were procured, does not occur to
them, thinking, perhaps — if they think at
all about it — that the birds shed their
skins as snakes do, or that they grow like
flowers.

If they realize the pain and barbarity
involved in this business, and the sad loss
of the music of our woods, soon to be
silenced forever, if public sentiment is not
aroused to a consideration of this subject,
I cannot but think that every true woman
would not for a moment hesitate to take
the pledge never to wear any decorations
obtained at such unmerciful cost; and that
she would by every effort of which she
was capable, discourage others from so do-
ing.

The Audubon Society of New York is
acting nobly in this cause, but it is slow and
discouraging to contend with those en-
gaged in this profitable but inhuman traffic.

The Society should have the support of

Some Characteristic Birds.

85

all earnest, thoughtful women, who by
their example and speech should create
such an enthusiasm as will produce a mag-
netic current which will draw into its ever

widening circle so many intelligent women
that to see a hat or bonnet ornamented
with the wings or breast of a bird will be
a novel and uncommon sight.

R. F. Baxter.

SOME c:haracteristic birds

A WIDE-AWAKE BIRD.

THE sharp-shinned hawk has been
pronounced by Mr. Audubon " the
miniature of the goshawk." Not only is
this likeness in its appearance, but in the
irregular, swift, vigorous, varied, yet often
undecided manner of flight, which is at
times, however, greatly protracted. It
moves by sudden dashes, as if impetuosity
of movement were essential to its nature,
and pounces upon, or strikes such objects
as best suit its appetite, but so very sud-
denly that it appears quite hopeless for
any of them to try to escape.

It is often seen descend headlong into a
clump of briers, regardless of all thorny
obstacles, and to emerge from the other
side clutching in its sharp claws a sparrow
or a finch. At other times, two or three of
them may be seen conjointly attacking a
golden-winged woodpecker, which has
taken position against the bark of a tree in
fancied security. While defending itself
from the attack of one or two of these
hawks, the woodpecker is usually van-
quished by the efforts of another, which
thrusts its legs forward with vivid quick-
ness, protrudes its sharp talons and seizes
its victim by the back, which it tears
and lacerates. Thus wounded, it falls to
the ground with its captor; a disengaged
hawk now tears out its vitals with its
claws, and the repast of the assailants com-
mences.

Young chickens are often seized by it
even in the presence of their keepers, and

as many as twenty or thirty have been car-
ried away by one hawk in as many con-
secutive days. Birds of various sizes, from
the smallest warbler to the passenger pigeon,
are included in its food.

The roosting places of these hawks, in
ordinary seasons, are in the fissures of rocks,
in tall trees in isolated situations, and in
precipitous declivities overhanging turbu-
lent streams; but it cautiously retires after
daylight has departed, and leaves its rest-
ing place before the light of morning. Its
nest has not often been invaded by the
curious investigator into its habits at the
season of incubation. Mr. Audubon says:
'' I found a nest of this hawk in a hole of
the well known 'Rock-in-cave,' on the Ohio
river, in the early part of the spring of
1 81 9. It was simply constructed, having
been formed of a few sticks and some grass
carelessly interwoven, and placed about
two feet from the entrance of the hole.
The eggs, four in number, were nearly
hatched. They were almost equally round-
ed at both ends, though somewhat elon-
gated. Their ground color was white, with
a livid tinge, scarcely discernible, however,
amidst the numerous markings and blotches
of reddish chocolate with which they were
irregularly covered."

He afterward found a nest in the hollow
prongs of a sycamore, on the Ohio, near
Louisville, and another in the forks of a
low oak upon the prairie land near Hender-
son, Kentucky.

G. B. G.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK,

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The registered membership of the Society on
March 31, 1888, was 45,154, showing an increase
of 846 members during the month, drawn from the
following sources:

New York 112 Missouri £6

Massachusetts 37 Kentucky 5

Pennsylvania 343 Illinois 24

Maine 32 Delaware 3

Connecticut 16 Tennessee i

New Hampshire 11 Vermont i

New Jersey 8 Colorado i

Ohio 24 Georgia 2

Michigan 22 District of Columbia i

Iowa 39 Wisconsin .. 11

Indiana 3 Canada 43

West Virginia 24 England 13

Mississippi 4

846

C. F. Amery, r.eneral Secretary.

THE AUDUBON MONUMENT.

The subscriptions on belialf of the Audubon
Monument have not flown in as freely as might have
been expected; the funds contributed by the Audu-,
bon Society during the mont'.i are:

Forest and Stream $25 00

Miss Florence A. Merriam 5 od

Mrs. E. S. Forster i 00

Mrs. H. A. Dodge 100

Miss Mary D. Dodge 50

Mrs. Sophia Hemp 25

$32 75
Leaving us to infer that a great many members of
the Audubon Society think twice before giving once.
Unless next month's returns show better results we
shall be led to conclude that the Audubon Society
will hold but a limited amount of stock in the Audu-
bon Monument.

FOR THE PROTECTION OF SMALL BIRDS.

We learn from the Indiana Fanner that at the
presentation of a paper lately to the Academy of
Sciences on the importance of legislation for the pro-
tection of insectivorous birds, the following resolu-
tion was adopted unanimously:

"Whereas we view with alarm the great destruc-
tion of native birds for mercantile purposes and re-
cognize, that, without proper legal restraints enforced
by public opinion, great injury is threatened the
agricultural and horticultural interests of our State
by reason of this destruction removing an important
check upon the growth of insect life; therefore be it
resolved that we respectfully call the attention of the
members of the General Assembly of the State of
Indiana to the necessity of the enactment of string-

ent and adequate laws for the protection of cur wild
birds other than game birds; and that a committee
of three members of this Academy be appointed to
present, for the consideration of the members of the
General Assembly, a draft of a law which they think
will prove in every way satisfactory, as a means
whereby existing evils may be corrected within our
commonwealth, and at the same time provide for a
proper study of our birds, in their scientific and
economic relations."

NESTS.

Nests are the structures which amimals prepare
for the rearing of the young. They are very dif-
ferent, not only when the creature which constructs
them belongs to widely separated divisions of the
animal kingdom, but often when the animals are of
the same class. While some construct very simple
nests, those of others are very curious, and delicate-
ly framed, others make no nests at all. Among
mammals the only nest builders are certain rodents,
as rats, mice, squirrels, etc.

The structures of some of these species are as art-
fully contrived and as beautiful as the nests of
birds. It is among birds that nest building is most
general. Some birds' nests consist of merely a few
straws or leaves collected together, and such ma-
terial as twigs, straw, moss, hair, etc., are used in
nest building. A very singular nest is that of the
tailor bird, made by sewing together the edges of
leaves.

No reptiles are known to construct nests, their
nearest approach to it being to make a hole for their
eggs in the sand or some other soft material.

An important article of commerce between the
East Indies and China are the nests of several
species of swallow. The nests are sold from 2s. to
7s. apiece, and of course are used only by the most
wealthy Chinese, who use it for thickening rich
soup.

Condors make no nests, but simply lay their eggs
in the hollow of a rock, so that they cannot roll
out.

The nest of the vulture is made on the most in-
accessible heights, and is of larch branches inter-
twined with wool, hair and feathers. It is flat, and
measures four feet across.

The robin begins his nest in the same way as a
carpenter would a house; first he makes the frame-
work, then plasters it and lines it with straw or
moss.

The nest of the red-bird is very fine, being made

The Audubon Note Book.

87

of rags and string woven together and lined with
cotton.

Woodpeckers and yellowhammers make their
homes in holes made in decayed trees.

Crow blackbirds make no nests. They lay in
some raincrow's or other bird's nest, while the
owner is away. The quail, starling and meadow-
lark build on the ground. Nests are made large or
small, according to the size of the builders. Most
of them are wonderfully constructed, and display
exceeding skill on the part of the builders. — Carl
Evans in Agassiz Record.

AUDUBON 'WORK AMONG THE INDIANS.

Miss E. B. Barry, our enthusiastic young repre-
sentative at Germantown, Pennsylvania, informs us
that some time ago she wrote a letter to the Carlisle
Indian School in behalf of the Audubon Society, ex-
plaining its objects and inclosing some pledge forms.
"I heard nothing from them," she writes, "until
yesterday, when I received the Indian Helper, a paper
published and printed by the Indian boys of the
school, in which my letter was published in full, to-
gether with a few editorial lines, encouraging the
boys and girls to sign the pledges." We have one
red Indian in our cosmopolitan army of forty-five
thousand, but there is now some prospect that with
Miss Barry's aid we shall be able to organize an
Indian contingent.

Mr. De Young's Seagulls. — There are three
seagulls that frequent New Haven harbor and are
nearly as tame as the proverbial duck, although not
in the least way restrained in their actions. They
are simply wild pets, and recognize as their master
Mr. E. F. De Young, the purser of the steamboat
Northam. When the steamboat is leaving the New
Haven dock the gulls will sail in graceful circles just
above her until the boat is clear of the wharves, and
then they swoop down astern or on the quarter and
wait for Mr. De Young to stand treat. That gentle-
man's appearance on the guards is the signal for de-
lighted squawks from the birds, who will fly in little
circles, sometimes so closely bunched as to be in
each other's way, but all watching carefully the food
in the hands of their friend. Bit by bit the pieces
of bread or fruit are thrown to the birds, who some-
times have lively fights over a particularly choice
morsel. The treat lasts nearly to the mouth of the
harbor sometimes, but when the boat gets that far
the gulls, with little cries of seeming gratitude, circle
a few times around and return to the vicinity of the
docks. For nearly two years Mr. De Young has
kept this up, although the birds generally go away
for a while in the winter, but always return with the
spring. A strange feature of the matter is that Mr.

De Young, when running on the steamboat Conti-
nental in the midwinter months, cannot find his pets,
but as soon as the Northam begins running in the
spring the birds come back, they evidently knowing
the difference between the boats as well as their
friend.

The membership of the Audubon Society, which
now exceeds 45,000, suggests the employment of a
great deal of activity and energy for their enlistment,
and it will perhaps surprise many of our readers
to learn that more than one of our Local Secretaries
have been confirmed invalids. One of these — Frank
Pendexter — who died at his parents' house in Inter-
vale, New Hampshire, at the close of March, was
prostrated all last summer on a bed of sickness from
which there was no hope that he would ever rise
again, but as Local Secretary of the Audubon So-
ciety, and President of the Marvin Band of Mercy,
he was a cheerful and earnest worker, and succeeded
in interesting great numbers of his father's guests
who made Intervale their summer retreat. One
of our correspondents who visited him last summer,
writes of him in very kindly terms, and many more
of last year's visitors to Intervale will feel sad to
know that the gentle, earnest, bedridden boy has
finished his work and o-one to his rest.

Oregon is taking measures to secure the presence
of singing birds in that State. One thousand dollars
has been subscribed, and arrangements have been
made to import from Germany nightingales, skylarks,
bullfinches, chaffinches, goldfinches, thrushes, lin-
nets, starlings, and other birds to the number of 700.
They will arrive in time to nest and rear their young,
and it is considered certain that they will return to
Oregon from their winter migration to the South.
State laws will be enacted for their protection.

Pot Luck from a Religious Weekly. — Snow-
birds make delicious little morsels when cooked as
follows: When plucked, washed, and cleaned, have
some large-sized potatoes peeled, and scoop out the
insides with a blunt knife. Cut a slice from the end,
so the potatoes will stand; put a bird into each, head
end first; place a piece of butter into each, and bake
in the oven until the potatoes are done. Serve on a
hot dish.

Miss Cross, of Lockport, writes: "We had a de-
bate at school the other day, on which have the more
curious habits, birds or insects, and I noticed that
several of the children had the Audubon Magazine.
It is a good little book, and being so cheap enables
every one interested in such things to have it. I shall
use it at school."

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

Oak K

NOLL, Danvers, Mass., )
2nd mo., 20, 1886. [

Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed AuDUBON So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream :

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this " slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

0.1 this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
Dssthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, N. Y., \

Feb. 22, 1886. i"

Editor Forest and Stream :

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

EuwARD P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society. Very sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, \
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. \
Editor Forest atid Stream :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought
By want of thought
As well as by want of heart.

If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelfs.

B L A C K A X D ^^' li 1 1" ]-: \\' a R 13 l e r ,
( Miiiotilta varia (LlNX.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

JUNE, iSSS.

No. 5.

BLACK AND AV H I T E WARBLER.

THE subject of our illustration this
month belongs to the important
group known to naturalists as Wood War-
blers, Sylvicolidcz. This is with one excep-
tion the largest family of North American
birds, only the finch family, Fringiliidce,
exceeding it in the number of its species.
The Wood Warblers are all small birds,
very few of them being over five inches in
length, and many of them much less.
Most of them are bright and beautiful
in color, blue and yellow, orange and black,
and white and chestnut, being oddly min-
gled in their plumage. . The sexes are
usually unlike, the females being much
plainer colored than their mates. Besides
this, there are changes of color at different
seasons of the year, which may make the
bird of the autumn appear entirely different
from the same one in spring. Although
called Warblers, this is an entire misnomer
for most of the species, whose powers of
song are limited to rather feeble trillings,
which scarcely deserve to be called songs.
There are, however, notable exceptions to
this rule, such is the noisy yellow-breasted
chat, and some of the so-called water
thrushes or wagtail warblers, whose vocal
powers are of a very high order.

It is unnecessary here to give the char-
acters which mark this family. Their small
size and their active habits of fluttering
about among the branches of trees make
them conspicuous objects, especially during

the spring migrations, when they are to be
seen everywhere, and form one of the most
attractive features of our loveliest season.

To give some idea of the habits and life
characteristics of this group of birds we
quote from Dr. Coues, who has happily
written of them. He says: " The AVarblers
have we always with us, all in their own
good time; they come out of the South,
pass on, return, and are away again, their
appearance and withdrawal scarcely less
than a mystery; many stay with us all sum-
mer long, and some brave the winter in our
midst. Some of these slight creatures,
guided by unerrring instinct, travel true to
the meridian in the hours of darkness, slip-
ping past 'like a thief in the night,' stoop-
ing at daybreak from their lofty flight to
rest and recruit for the next stage of the
journey. Others pass more leisurely from
tree to tree, in a ceaseless tide of migration,
gleaning as they go; the hardier males, in
full song and plumage, lead the way for the
weaker females and the yearlings. With
tireless industry do the Warblers befriend
the human race; their unconscious zeal
plays due part in the nice adjustment of
Nature's forces, helping to bring about that
balance of vegetable and insect life without
which agriculture would be in vain. They
visit the orchard when the apple and pear,
the peach, plum, and cherry are in bloom,
seeming to revel carelessly amid the sweet-
scented and delicate-tinted blossoms, but.

92

Black and White Warbler.

never faltering in their good worlc. They
peer into the crevices of the bark, scruti-
nize each leaf, and explore the very heart
of the buds to detect, drag forth, and de-
stroy those tiny creatures, singly insignifi-
cant, collectively a scourge, which prey
upon the hopes of the fruit grower, and
which, if undisturbed, would bring his care
to nought. Some Warblers flit incessantly
in the terminal foliage of the tallest trees;
others hug close to the scored trunks and
gnarled boughs of the forest kings; some
peep from the thicket, the coppice, the im-
penetrable mantle of shrubbery that decks
tiny watercourses, playing at hide and seek
with all comers; others more humble still
descend to the ground, where they glide
with pretty mincing steps and affected turn-
ings of the head this way and that, their
delicate flesh-tinted feet just stirring the
layer of withered leaves with which a past
season carpeted the ground. We may seek
Warblers everywhere in their season; we
shall find them a continual surprise — all
mood and circumstance is theirs."

The Black and White Warbler is in many
ways an interesting bird. His relationship
to the ordinary brown creeper, so common
in our forests in winter, is not distant, and
he seems also to connect the Cxrebidce or
honey creepers, tiny tropical birds of brill-
iant plumage, with the true warblers. In
many of its habits it closely resembles the
brown creeper, and like it gleans its living
chiefly from the trunks of trees, which it
ascends by short hops, supporting itself as
it goes up, by pressing its tail against the
bark, somewhat as the woodpeckers do.
It is an active, vivacious bird, almost con-
stantly at work, now clambering about the
moss-covered tree trunk in a most business-
like way, and again making short dashes
into the air to capture some passing insect
which its quick eye has noted.

This bird is one of the earliest of its tribe
to reach the Northern States, and often
makes its appearance in New York and

southern New England about the middle of
April, and so before the trees show signs of
bursting into leaf, and while the whole
landscape is brown and bare. It is then an
attractive feature of the woods and fields,
and its active movements, and even its thin,
nasal song help to brighten up the dreary
season of waiting. Later, when his more
richly clad companions fill the woodlands
and the shrubbery, we should not miss the
Black and White Creeper if he were to be
taken away, but when he first comes he is
very welcome.

This bird breeds with us, though perhaps
not in great numbers. He is a ground
nester by preference, though sometimes he
builds a few feet higher. Audubon tells us
of nests in a hole in a tree. Mr. H. D.
Minot found one " in the cavity of a tree
rent by lightning and about five feet from
the ground," as well as one " on the top of
a low birch stump." Wherever placed,
the nest is a strong, substantial structure,
built of dry leaves and strips of bark which
are so similar in character to its surround-
ings as to admirably conceal it, and make
it very difficult to detect. Four eggs are
usually laid, about .7 X .5 inches in length.
They are creamy white, and are finely dot-
ted with brown and lilac, the spots being
most numerous about the larger end.

The Black and White Warbler is about
five inches long, and its outspread wings
measure seven and one-half inches across.
As implied in the name the bird's color is
black and white, the white seeming to be
the ground color and the black being laid
on in streaks. The top of the head is white
bounded by a line of black on either side,
and this by a line of white passing over
the eye. The chin, throat and wings are
black, the latter crossed by two white bars.
The belly is white. All other parts are
streaked with black and white. The bill is
black and the feet and legs brown. The
females and young of the year lack the
black throat, which in them is white.

ALEXANDER WILSON

ALEXANDER WILSON has some-
times been styled the father of
American ornithology, but it was not until
the year 1804 that he thought seriously of
studying for the task of describing and
illustrating the birds of North America.
Audubon, who was some fourteen years his
junior, was then already dreaming of achiev-
ing distinction in the same field, and had
long been devoting himself to it in amateur
fashion. But in the order of publication,
Wilson took precedence, bringing out his
first volume in 1808, while the first five parts
of Audubon's more elaborate work were not
given to the public until nearly twenty years
later.

Wilson was an enthusiast, and perhaps in
his way as much of a dreamer as Audubon,
but he was not like Audubon contented
with dreaming. His was a clear practical
nature, that prompted him to set about the
immediate realization of his dreams, and the
adoption of all necessary means to the de-
sired end.

Audubon may be said to have been born
to the work, Wilson to have drifted into it,
and to have succeeded not so much by any
special aptitude, as by virtue of an earnest-
ness of character, and an energy of pursuit,
which would equally have enabled him to
achieve success in almost any other depart-
ment.

Both Wilson and Audubon were essen-
tially pioneer naturalists, men who went to
nature direct, studied the birds in their
haunts, drew from the life, and described
from personal observation; but while Wil-
son was equally with Audubon undeterred
by distance, danger, or fear of privation, we
think it may be safely said that the woods-
man's life, in and for itself, had no especial

charm for him, as it had for Audubon. He
pursued it only as a means to an end.

The little manufacturing town of Paisley,
near Glasgow, in Scotland, in which Wilson
first saw the light, has claimed him for
her own, but America cannot be unmind-
ful of one who devoted the best years of his
life to her service, and achieved results in
his chosen field, which bear comparison
with anything accomplished by the chil-
dren of the soil; and now that we have com-
pleted our sketch of Audubon, our readers
will be glad to have his place taken by an-
other great laborer in the same field.

Alexander Wilson was born in Paisley,
the principal manufacturing town of Scot-
land, on the 6th of July, 1766. His father
was a gauze weaver in Paisley, where he
spent the greater part of his life, but sub-
sequently to the birth of Alexander he re-
moved to Auchin Bathie Tower, near the
village of Lochwinnoch, thinking by more
extended and varied employment to im-
prove the condition of his family. There
he rented a piece of ground, which he cul-
tivated himself, ran several looms, and did
a trade in distilling and smuggling. He
bore the character of a shrewd, upright, and
independent man, and was generally re-
spected among his neighbors, who were
disposed to look on distilling and smug-
gling with a very lenient eye.

A century ago, when Alexander AVilson
was in his youth, the Paisley weavers
were as intelligent, well informed, and in-
dependent a body of men as was to be
found in the United Kingdom. Working
by piecework at fairly remunerative rates,
they were not constrained to work long
hours for a living, and, while a certain por-
tion of them spent their leisure at their clubs

94

Alexmider . Wilson.

discussing politics and social questions gen-
erally, under the influence of Scotch ale and
whisky, there was another section which,
temperate both in its habits and discus-
sions, sought to reach intelligent and ten-
able views on these subjects ; and many of
its members devoted themselves to the
study of mechanics, natural history, botany,
etc., for which their well-stocked libraries
afforded all necessary facilities.

These Paisley weavers were a shrewd,
well-informed body of men, many of them
even well educated, but self-educated.

On the part of the Scottish peasantry
there is a very general ambition to prepare
one son for the church, and we are inform-
ed that the elder Wilson entertained such
designs for Alexander, who at ten years of
age was placed under the charge of Mr.
Burlas, a student of divinity, who later ac-
quired quite a reputation as an instructor of
youth in the higher branches of learning,
especially in the various departments of
science. But Alexander's mother died soon
afterward; his father married again; the
family kept on increasing, and finally it was
decided that the expenses incident to bring-
ing one of the sons up to a learned profes-
sion were too great a strain upon the family
resources, and so, at the age of thirteen,
the young Alexander, very much to his dis-
gust, was taken from his studies and bound
apprentice to Mr. William Duncan, an op-
erative weaver in Paisley.

During these three years of his apprentice-
ship, he appears to have devoted himself
honorably to the duties of his position, but
his heart was not in it. He lost no oppor-
tunity of indulging in reading, and romance
weaving, and of cultivating a taste for ver-
sification. Among the Paisley weavers of
his day, he was thought as much of for
his published poems, as for his more solid
achievements as a naturalist, but beyond
evidencing a ready faculty for narrating in
rhyme, his verses have little real merit.

Having completed his apprenticeship, he
labored as a. journeyman, only to the ex-
tent necessary to supply his needs. Much
of his time was spent in reading and in at-
tempts to turn his ideas into verse. After
a while, he became journeyman to his father
and wrought for a time with more steadi-
ness, but the thought that he had been dis-
appointed in his prospects of a higher pro-
fession— his utter distaste for the career
chosen for him — and the higher feelings
awakened by such literary culture as he had
imbibed — all conspired to fill him with dis-
content and unrest ; and so it happened
that he was not infrequently seduced away
from the task of bread earning to ramble
among the woods of Castle Semple, or along
the banks of the romantic and beautiful
Calder, where he brooded over what he
deemed his ill-fated lot, and planned
schemes for future advancement.

At this period of his life, Wison appears
to have been a very diffident man, and slow
to feel or inspire confidence — a self-con-
scious young man, in fact, extremely sensi-
tive to the opinion of others; and being of
a retiring disposition and shrinking from
society, he gave himself up to the study of
the Classics and English poets, very much
to the neglect of his loom, but very much
also to the cultivation of his mind. He
found himself, in fact, out of his natural
element, and wanting only an opportunity
to drift away from it, into something more
congenial.

In the course of his rambles by the Cal-
der, his meditations were occasionally in-
terrupted by the timid hare or startled
grouse, and in due course a gun became
his constant companion. The game laws
were then not so strictly enforced as now,
and as time wore on, the game afforded
practical motive for his numerous wander-
ings, and Wilson became as much poacher
as weaver or dreamer. He was going back
to nature and becoming familiar with her.

RET^IARKABLE BIRDS

AMONG the remarkable birds is the
chauna, whose occiput is adorned
with a circle of erectible feathers. The
head and upper part of the neck are only
covered with down, and it has a black col-
lar. A singular phenomenon is exhibited
by the circumstance of its skin, even that
covering its legs, being inflated by the inter-
position of air between it and and the mus-
cles, so that it crackles under the finger.
This bird feeds principally on aquatic
herbage, and the Indians of Carthagena
rear some among their flocks of geese and
poultry, as they deem it very courageous,
and capable of repulsing even a vulture.

The species known as the horned screa-
mer, called camouche in Cayenne, and lar-
ger than a goose, bears on the top of its
head a singular ornament, consisting of a
large and slender movable horny stem.
This bird inhabits the inundated grounds
of South America, and its very loud voice
is heard afar off. It feeds almost exclu-
sively on aquatic herbage. The trachea of
this bird has an abrupt bony box or en-
largement about the middle.

The avocet, of Europe, is a handsome
bird, of slender form, which frequents the
seashore in winter, where it feeds by
scooping, as it is termed, with its singular
bill, drawing this through the mud or sand
from right to left as it advances its left leg
foremost, and vice versa, seizing whatever
living prey is thus met with. The mandi-
bles of its beak have often been compared
to two thin slices of whalebone.

The ruff, a true sandpiper by the bill and
feet, is very celebrated for the furious com-
bats which the males wage in spring for the
possession of the females. At this epoch
the head becomes partly covered with red
or yellow papillse, and the neck is fur-
nished with a very considerable collar or
ruff of lengthened feathers, so variously

marked and colored in different individuals
that two can hardly ever be found alike.
In this species the male exceeds the female
in size, which is unusual among the sand-
pipers.

The European bittern is found among
the reeds, whence it emits its terrific voice,
which has caused it to be designated Bos
taiirus. This bird runs with great celerity,
like a rail, flies also with unwillingness and
with its legs hanging. During the day and
when surprised it puffs out its plumage in an
extraordinary manner, and strikes with its
spear-like bill. In the evening it rises to a
vast height in the air, in spiral circles, oc-
casionally bellowing in its flight.

The boat-bill, which inhabits the hot and
humid regions of South America, would
completely resemble the heron in the
strength of its bill and the kind of nourish-
ment resulting therefrom, were it not for
the extraordinary form of that organ. But
upon close examination it has been found
that it is merely the beak of a heron or bit-
tern very much inflated; in point of fact,
the mandibles are singularly wide from
right to left, and formed like the bowls of
two spoons, the concave sides of which are
placed in contact. These mandibles are
very stout and sharp-edged, and the upper
one has a pointed tooth on each side of its
tip.

The hoazin, an American bird, green-
ish brown, and a very curious bird, is per-
haps the most insulated species of the whole
class. It is found in Guiana, perching
along the margin of inundated places,
where it subsists on leaves and the seeds
of a species of shrub. Its anatomy is alto-
gether unique, exhibiting a peculiar adapta-
tion for deriving nutriment exclusively from
foliage. It is said that the gizzard of this
bird is no bigger than an olive, while its
crop is of enormous dimensions.

96

The White Ant.

The wryneck is a very peculiar bird,
feeding principally on ants. Instinctively
trusting to the close resemblance of its
tints to the situations on which it alights,
it will lie close, and sometimes even suffer
itself to be taken by the hand, or on such
occasions will twirl its neck in the most ex-
traordinary manner, rolling the eyes, and
erecting the feathers on the crown and
throat, occasionally raising the tail and per-
forming the most ludicrous movements,

then, taking advantage of the surprise of
the spectator, will suddenly dart off like an
arrow.

The nuthatches, which feed largely on
various seeds, are celebrated for the instinct
of fixing a nut in a chink while they pierce
it with the bill, swinging the whole body
as upon a pivot, to give effect to each
stroke. These birds lay up stores of food
like the tits. Their note is remarkably
loud, and disposition fearless.

George B. Griffith.

THE WHITE ANT

ONE of the very earliest and most im-
portant of the earth builders was
the white ant; his remains have been found
in carboniferous strata, which was ages be-
fore the black ants appeared. Both in their
social organization and in the structure of
their buildings the white ants of India or
of Africa to-day may differ widely from
their earliest ancestors. The experience of
countless ages and the frequent change of
the conditions to which they have been
subjected cannot have been without its in-
fluence on creatures of so high an order of
intelligence, but in the character of the work
they perform there has been no change.

Through all the ages the white ants have
existed everywhere in the forests of warm
countries, and have faithfully performed
the very important world's work of eating
up the trees — trunk, bark and branches— as
fast as they died, and converting them into
soil for the support of richer vegetation.

The white ants are found in the forests
of North America, but not in great num-
bers. The work of eating up the dead
timber is here shared by many other insects
and their grubs; but in the forests of India
and Africa and other tropical countries the
work is performed principally by white
ants, which are still so numerous that not a
particle of timber is allowed to go to decay.

They eat everything. In the early spring,
as soon as the outer bark of the trees be-
gins to crack and dry up, every trunk shows
traces of the white ants which are busy
eating the dry bark, and leaving in its place
a granular earthy shell which peals or crum-
bles off in the course of a week or two,
leaving the trees looking as neat and clean
as a new pin. If a branch is decayed the
white ants find it, enter it generally at the
end, eat galleries through it first, and then
clear out all the inside, leaving a shell,
which soon gets blown down by the wind.
If the decay penetrates into the heart of
the tree the white ants follow it, and eat
the heart of the tree down to the roots.
I have had scores of trees cut down — trees
of twelve feet and more in girth — but mere
shells of sapwood six or eight inches thick.
The white ants had eaten all the heart.

If a tree falls in the forest the white ants
just wait until the sap ceases to circulate
before they commence to pass it through
their little systems. Months may pass by
and the fallen trunk look unchanged, but
the white ants are boring away in all direc-
tions inside, and in a year or two there is
only a little ridge to mark where the trunk
lay — the timber has all been eaten and con-
verted into a ridge of fine mould, which
soon mingles with the soil. This is a very

The White Ant.

97

useful work, because it makes the soil so
much deeper and richer; but as the white
ants eat dry wood wherever they can find
it, without thinking about the consequences,
they do a great deal of damage when they
get into buildings — and there is no possi-
bility of keeping them out. They make
their nests in the mud walls of the natives'
houses, and then eat up all the inside of the
beams and rafters, until there is nothing but
a shell left as thick as paper. Smeathman
says that they find out which beams sup-
port the principal weight and fill up the
inside with hard cement. I have never
seen them do this, but they build their
pyramids with an outer crust as hard as
freestone, and the walls of their under-
ground nests are built of the same material,
so I think it very likely that they some-
times select the largest beams to build
their nests in, and fashion them with the
same material. Whether they pass the
earth through their bodies with their food
as the earth worms do, or whether they
simply prepare it in their mouths, I do not
know.

They eat pine and other soft woods so
quickly that no one ever uses such wood in
India. The deodar, or cedar of Lebanon
timber, they will not touch, but no wood
is too hard for their little jaws. Nearly all
the furniture in India is made of rosewood,
and as long as it is moved and dusted every
day it is safe, but a common article in the
houses of Europeans in India is a round
center table on a very solid pedestal, with
another solid foot-piece held about three
inches from the floor by four feet. These
tables they constantly attack; they get
underneath the foot piece and build little
hollow cylinders as thick as a quill up from
the floor, and run up and down inside them,
and if they are left unmolested they soon
hollow out the foot-piece and the pedestal,
leaving nothing but a thin shell.

I once packed a very valuable lot of sev-
eral hundred books in cases, and stored

them for six months while I went to the
hills, and on my return I found the books
partially eaten, and all spoiled. They eat
leather too, very greedily, leaving nothing
but a little layer of fine granular mould.
They have been troublesome in the Gov-
ernment treasuries. Hundreds of thou-
sands of rupees are kept piled up in bags
of five hundred or a thousand, and some-
times the white ants get in and eat all the
bags.

Some years ago an East Indian treas-
ury clerk was two thousand rupees short,
and when asked to account for it, said the
white ants must have eaten it ; but the
treasury officer did not believe him, nor
would any one else, for although the white
ants have strong jaws, they cannot eat
silver.

The white ants commonly form their col-
onies and build their towns below ground,
dividing them into a great many apart-
ments for dwellings, store-rooms, nurseries
and a royal chamber, with a great many
passages running from one to the other;
but their most wonderful structures are the
pyramids figured in the cut, which they
sometimes build above ground in India and
in Africa, making them generally five or
six feet through at the base, and raising;
them six or eight feet high. They build
these pyramids of quite soft wet mud, but
it dries in a few days and becomes as hard
as stone. This is because each little pellet
is either mixed up or coated with the saliva
or secretion of the ant, which cements it all
together and hardens it, most likely by
chemical action.

They did not build these pyramids in
very ancient times, and most likely not un-
til man had been a long time on the earth.
We know this because they never build
them on the bare ground, but only when
they have the stump *of a tree to build
around, and it is very rare to find a stump
unless the tree has been cut down. If they
alwavs built their towns above ground in.

98

The White Ant.

this way we would say it was done by in-
stinct, but as they generally build in the
ground, and only erect a pyramid Avhen
they have a convenient stump to begin on,
we are sure that they are capable of learn-
ing by experience. They never begin a

pyramids stand for many years, but they
crumble at last and are mingled with the
soil.

White ants are very frequently charged
with destroying living plants, and they are
certainly often found in positions which

PYRAMIDS OF THE WHITE ANT.

pyramid around a standing dead tree, nor
around a fallen log; these they always eat
from the inside, but a large stump is very
convenient to build on — they have food at
hand all the time they are building; while
they are eating the stump they build their
chamber and passa'ges in the hollow, and
when they have eaten all the roots they
have convenient hollows for building sub-
terranean chambers and passages. These

lend a color to the belief. In a young
plantation of fruit or timber trees a certain
proportion die, and if one of the dead
plants is pulled up the roots will generally
be found infested with white ants, which
are consequently blamed for killing the
plant; but after careful study of this sub-
ject I am perfectly satisfied that they will
not touch any part in which the sap is cir-
culating. Directly a root dies they begin

The White Ant.

99

to eat it, and extend their ravages as fast
as it dies; but they have no part in causing
its death. On the contrary, the secretive
powers, and consequently the health of
the tree, is maintained by white ants and
other creatures, especially soil microbes,
eating away the outer bark of the roots as
fast as it decays, and converting it into
plant food to be again taken up by the
roots.

A community of white ants consists gen-
erally of a king and queen, a small army of
soldiers, and the great body of the com-
munity which are the workers. The queen
is so fertile that when she once begins to lay
her eggs she lays them at the rate of sixty
a minute without stopping, that is, eighty
thousand a day. Her body is so full of
eggs that she is swollen to an enormous
size, and the workers keep her confined
within the walls of her chamber, the door
of which is big enough for them to pass
through with the eggs, but far too small for
the queen to pass through. In this cham-
ber the queen is waited on carefully by a
body of nurses, some of which provide her
with food, while the others carry off the
eggs to the nursery as fast as they are laid.
The workers have not only to provide food
for themselves and the king and queen, but
also for the soldiers, which mount guard
and defend the community from the attacks
of other insects, and also for the larvae and
young ants before their jaws are strong
enough to gnaw timber for themselves;
but by dint of steady industry they do all
this, and always have a store of food laid
up in the granaries for feeding the young.
This stored food is finely divided wood and
bark which is most probably rendered fit
for the young by the chemical action of the
saliva of the workers in preparing it for
them. The queen herself is so occupied
with laying eggs that she can give no care
to her offspring, and probably has no affec-
tion for them; but the workers, although

they have no young themselves, show all a
parent's care for the young of the commun-
ity. The soldiers are to some extent a
privileged class, as they have not to pro-
vide food; but they are few in proportion
to the workers, and .so are not such a bur-
then to the community as the standing
armies of some Christian nations. They
are larger and have very much larger heads
than the workers. A white ant settlement
is, in fact, a real commune, in which all
classes work for the general good, devoting
the most of their labor to the care and
bringing up of the young.

The world's work of the white ants is to
keep timber from decaying and going back
to the air, and to convert it into an endur-
ing forest mould fitted for the support of a
higher class of vegetation than that which
drew it from the air.

This, then, is the task allotted to the
white ants. They seize the forest trees as
they die, devour them, and convert their
substance into plant food with which they
enrich the forest floor, preparing it for the
time when man shall come and clear the
forest, and raise food crops in its fertile
soil. All this is done in the course of the
daily task of providing food for the support
of their own community, in utter uncon-
sciousness of the importance of the world's
work they are doing.

What a lesson of encouragement for peo-
ple who are discontented with the daily
round of common duties, and pining to
distinguish themselves by some great work
which shall benefit humanity for all future
ages. What lot could be more seemingly
humble than the white ant's ? What labors
less calculated to favor the support of
higher life types and influence the progress
of future ages, than the simple round of a
white ant's daily duty ? And yet, all un-
consciously, the white ants have done more
important world's work than the lordly
elephant.

C. F. Amery.

CHARLEY'S ^Y O N D E R F U L JOURNEYS.

TOURNEY VIII.

THER
fill

'HERE goes another of those dread-
boys," said the wood thrush.
" I wonder how many poor birds he has
killed!"

" I never killed a bird," said Charley.

" Nor robbed a nest ? " qneried the wood
thrush.

" Certainly not," replied Charley. " I
wouldn't do such a thing; I am a member
of the Audubon Society."

" That's true, said the wood thrush, " or
you would not understand us. Then I
suppose you are going to the funeral ? "

"Yes, I should like to go," said Charley.
" When does it start ? "

" It will start directly," said the wood
thrush, " I see the mourners are nearly all
assembled. Poor little Bobolink," contin-
ued he, "yesterday so full of beauty and
life and song, to-day a headless, shattered
carcass, his feathers and skin stripped off
him to adorn the bonnet of some heartless
woman ! "

In a little pine clearing in the woods the
birds were assembled from all the four
quarters of the earth, and there in the
midst of them on a deftly constructed
stretcher, tenderly pillowed with soft green
moss, lay all that remained of poor little
Bobolink.

The birds as they arrived cast a pitying
glance upon the dead, and then stood aside
in solemn silence, leaving a clear space
around the stretcher.

Presently the wild goose stepped into the
open space with a slow and stately tread;
his manner was dignified and impressive,
and the whole assemblage stood hushed,
with bowed heads.

"We are assembled, my feathered friends,"
he began, " to perform the last sad offices
for a departed brother, another victim of
woman's pitiless vanity and man's wanton

lust of blood, or it may be lust of gold.
Stricken down in the vigor of youth and
health, but not until his heart had been
wrung by witnessing the wanton massacre
of his tender partner, and later the ruthless
robbery of his motherless young from the
nest, he had his share of life's sorrows.
He is now at rest. For us remains the sad
task of following the body to its final rest-
ing place."

As he ceased a dead and solemn stillness
fell on the assembled birds. The next
moment the pall-bearers, four crows, raised
the stretcher, and at the first step the silence
was broken, the woodlands rang again with
the rich, full notes of the mockingbird as
he recited the requiem for the dead. He
told how Bobolink and his wife began their
courtship when they came north in the
spring, and how they built their nest, and
Mrs. Bobolink stayed at home and brooded
the eggs while Bobolink foraged for food,
and how at last when the young were
hatched. Mamma Bobolink had to forage
for them too, and how one day she had
been shot, and then Bobolink had to do all
the foraging himself, while the young ones
were growing every day and able to eat
more and more, and how, when Bobolink
was almost worn out, he came home one
day to find the nest gone. Then his heart
almost broke and he poured out his sorrow
in a wild plaintive melody which attracted
a gunner to the spot and cost poor Bobo-
link his life as the final act of the sad
tragedy.

At length they reached the last resting
place, an open field at the edge of the
woods, all dotted with curious shaped little
mounds, with feathers stuck in them. The
crows deposited their burthen on a little
clear space, the procession broke up, and
all the birds gathered round. Then the

Charley s WonderftLl Journeys.

lOI

wild goose stepped forward and ad-
dressed the assemblage :

" Our task is done," said he, "' It
was good for us to be here; good to
be reminded of the uncertainty of life;
good to realize that sooner or later we
too must all depart to the unknown
realms beyond, but our duty done
there is no need to linger. Life has
its duties — let us hasten to their per-
formance— its joys, let us give vent to
them in gladsome notes. Away then,
my feathered friends, hasten to your
respective duties, the performance of
which will banish all thoughts of death

and sorrow, and bring its reward in the
calm enjoyment which springs from the
consciousness of duty done. Away, breth-
ren, labor and love and song are the lot of
the living."

As he ceased he ran a step forward,
spread his broad wings, and soared aloft.

All the birds followed his example. For a
moment nothing was heard but the flapping
of wings. The next moment woodland and
meadow resounded with the joyous notes
of all the feathered tribes, vying with each
other in song, while from high overhead
fell the pleasing although less musical note

I02

Bliicbij'd Dick.

of the wild goose, the duck, the crane and
innumerable waterfowl, winging their way
to the marshy shores of some distant lake.

Charley was left alone in the solitary
graveyard, and as his eye fell on the spot
where the dead Bobolink had rested he saw
that a new mound had sprung up, and that
what looked like the ghost of a bobolink
was chained to it in a position that sug-
gested the most horrible tortures. He ad-
vanced nervously for a clear view, and
found that the mound was a woman's hat,
and that what he had mistaken for the
ghost of the bobolink was his stuffed skin
and feathers distorted into an excruciating
shape and the once beautiful head grinning
as if still in pain.

Then Charley saw that all the mounds
were hats of various shapes, and presently

they began to move, passing and repassing
in long procession; and now Charley found
that he was in the city and looking down
on the moving crowd of bonnets from an
upper window, and as he saw the mangled
remains of birds of every clime and color
pass and repass, and among them, oh so
many of those he had seen at the funeral,
the sickening dread came over him that all
bird life was banished from the world.
"Gone, all gone," he muttered mournfully.
A loud caw close to his ear startled him
from his revery and from his sleep too, and
springing up in bed he saw the crow fly
from his window sill, and opening his
window he heard the notes of a bobolink
flooding the morning air with his rich and
tuneful minstrelsy as he hovered over his
nest in the meadow.

C. F. Amery.

BLUEBIRD DICK,

I. " BIRDS OF A FEATHER.

BOBOLINK stood by the library win-
dow with the end of his nose pressed
flat upon the glass. Ten seconds stood he
thus; then drawing back, he clapped his
hands softly. "Oh, papa! here's a blue-
bird." Now, the birds had been away for
five long months, and here they were again,
away back from the sunny South and the
land of flowers. What if the snow still
lingered on our hillside; what if the wind
blew cold and those flying clouds hinted
darkly of a coming storm ? Did not the
presence of this bonnie bird mean some-
thing better? Would we not soon have
pleasant, sunny days, and our woods and
meadows glow in all their wild flower
beauty? Why shouldn't little hands (and
big ones too) be clapped ?

Outdoors Bluebird Dick glanced sharply
at the window and then flew to the walnut
tree. " It's all right Dot, but we'll have to
stay indoors, for another storm's a-brew-
ing." "Oh, this box is very comfortable;

and now, Dick" — as they snuggled up —
"you can tell me of this place, of your
friends and enemies. Are you sure that's
the right family?" "No doubt of it. Dot;
those faces at the window are just the same;
I saw the same yellow dog in the yard yester-
day and the same big Toppy duck. There's
the old stump where Oakie flying squirrel
lives with his chums Brownie and Midget.
These are friends, and the only enemies I
know are those pesky English sparrows in
the elm tree yonder." "Oh, I know the
little wretches," cried Dot; " they have plain
brown feathers and can't sing anything like
their American cousins. When not chasing
other birds they are spatting among them-
selves or rolling about in the dirt. They
don't build nests at all; they just build little
haystacks." "Ah, you had 'em there. Dot;
and yet we are indebted to those very ene-
mies. For when papa and mamma decided
to build last spring, that red box in the
south gable suited them exactly. They were
hardly settled down when the sparrows

B hie bird Dick.

lO'

stormed the place, and fight as papa would
(and he did fight hard) the pirates forced
them out. Bobolink seemed troubled about
it and said he'd have his papa fix up an-
other box. Sure enough he did, and we
are in it now. Much obliged, but you had
better not disturb us here," muttered Dick,
as he whetted his beak on the floor and
looked very cross indeed at the elm tree.
"Won't the boys throw stones at us?"
"Not now; they did once, I believe, but
their mamma told them it was wrong, and
if not scared too often we'd come back and
build again. Now there she spoke the truth.
Dot; for down South last week, Robin told
me he'd be along shortly and build a big
mud nest in the same old apple tree, and
Jenny Wren warned me to keep away from
her box by the kitchen. Yes, they'll be
here with many others, and I am very much
mistaken if any other half acre will have as
much bird music." "Don't the folks fire
off those big horrid guns and things ? " shud-
dered Dot. " Nary a bang, Dot, except on
the Fourth of July; then watch out. But
you know that's only for one day." So
Dick rattled on, and together they laid
plans for the morrow. While thus engaged
the storm passed over; the day wore down,
and evening with bed time arrived; then
the birds carefully dressed their feathers.
About the same time a certain little boy
next door carelessly undressed himself and
hopped into bed. Then each bird drew up
a leg well under its body and each head was
snugly hid beneath a blue wing. Then the
boy drew up both legs, and a warm blanket
was tucked around the little white shoulders ;
and then Bobolink and Dick and Dot alike
were soon wrapped in soft slumber.

II. "GOD SHIELD YE, HERALDS OF THE

SPRING."

Morning again; and how can it be de-
scribed, and the days and times that fol-
lowed. How balmy the south wind was,
and how quickly the snow melted away in

the warm sunshine. How the days grew
long and milder. How the wee frogs joy-
ously piped of coming spring, and how the
trees and fields donned their green recep-
tion robes, which proved that spring had
really come. How Robin kept his word
and Jennie took possession of her old
quarters. How the wood sparrow, black-
bird, lark, catbird and thrush, with others,
drifted back on this springtide, and the
place was flooded with melody, then Dick's
prophecy was fulfilled, though Dick was
with the dead. How busy Dot was in those
earlier days, scarcely taking time to eat or
think of love; and how carefully she placed
each twig of the nest just so; how Inspec-
tor Dick approved the work and most
heartily indorsed her finishing touch of four
blue eggs. What jolly times Dick had bath-
ing in the swamp; timidly at first, tossing a
few drops of water about; then wading
deeper, he'd dive and flap his wings and
splash like Toppy in the pond. Then at
nightfall how Oakie with his comrades
sallied forth to have their fun; then Brownie
and Midget, slyly creeping up, would touch
each other's noses and scamper off like mad.
Then the quiet sleepers would be startled
by a thud upon the roof, and the sudden
vision of two great, round eyes at the door;
but reassured by the merry chirp of Oakie,
" Halloo! Dick," who would then as quickly
vanish. Now firmly standing on the roof,
with fore paws doubled in, he'd stretch for-
ward and back like some huge measuring
worm; then with a downward leap and legs
outspread, he sailed away on the moonlight.

III. "O W^ONDROUS birth!"

Dot's breakfast had been served and serv-
ant Dick adjourned to the swamp. An extra
good bath, then back to the nest, and what
do you think he found ? One t.gg was miss-
ing, but in its place lay a tiny baby blue-
bird! Lying there with upstretched neck
and mouth wide open, a funny, down}' little
jack-in-a-box! Oh, my! wasn't Dick glad ?

I04

BliLcbird Dick.

He rushed out and hopped sideways along
a limb, then sideways back again. Then the
mud house proprietor was notified. " Chick!
chick! chick! " shouted Robin rapidly, which
plainly meant, "Hurrah, old boy, and my
kind regards to Mrs. Dot." Then he car-
ried the news to Jennie. Suddenly he re-
membered that baby's mouth was open and
that it must be awfully hungry.

Hard by on a lilac leaf pensively sat a
big, fat fly. All at once, in the twinkling
of an eye, its front legs were twirled to-
gether; then it turned a semi-handspring
and cleverly balanced, while the hindlegs
were slowly twisted over and down its back.

Tradition holds that the wild swan "sings
melodiously when near about expiring,"
and the "death song of the Cherokee war-
rior has long since been recorded;" but the
agile fly, in this last great act, outshone
them all!

"Isn't it a whopper," spluttered Dick,
marching proudly up with his mouth stuffed
full of baby's dinner, and that dinner half
as big as baby itself! " Go away, you fool-
ish bird," laughed Dot; "this little chap
doesn't need a bluebottle yet, and your wet
feathers might give him the colic, you know."
Dick stared ruefully a moment, but good-
naturedly swallowed the fly and his disap-
pointment. " Say, Dot, what do you think
of naming the baby Jennie ? " " Oh, Jennie
sounds pretty nice, but I rather fancy the
name of Robin; don't you Dick?" Dick
stared somewhat ruefully again and hopped
out. "Now, 'if Oakie only knew this,"
he thought, "I'd feel tip-top."

IV. WHOM THE GODS WOULD DESTROY

THEY FIRST MAKE ANGRY.

Exciting noon had passed away; then
evening quietly came, with Dick subdued
though happy. Full twenty times he had
rapped on the old stump; twenty times he
softly warbled there, but Oakie never
wakened. And now the blazing sun went
down and tinted the clouds with Dick's own

lovely colors. Then Oakie yawned and
stretched one leg, but lazily pillowed his
head again on Brownie's shoulder. An
hour dragged by, then phantom lights and
shadows struggled for the mastery, and
while the lark yet plaintively mourned of
parting day, the guttural twang of a great
frog foretold the reign of night. Then
Dick could wait no longer.

"Oakie! Oak " — but what meant that cry
of distress ? One startled glance and Dick
was speeding homeward. Now hurry,
Dick, that swarm of hornets in your house
you'll find no common foes. Fly faster,
Dick! a single venomed sting would — and
Dick swooped down to the rescue. Alas!
too late for rescue now. Poor Dot lay
slowly gasping out her life, but faithful to
the last, her upraised wings still shielded
nest and babe. Swelling with rage and
grief, Dick turned for revenge. At every
stroke of that sharp beak an enemy fell,
and with alternate wings he dashed them
right and left; but for every one thus
stricken a dozen filled its place. They
buzzed fiercely round his head, crawled up
and bit and crippled his wings — and now
he fought for his own life. Inch by inch
they drove him back from the loved ones;
out of his own door, and further yet, until
he fell fluttering to the ground, and even
then they darted down and stung him
again and again. One faint struggle, and
those bruised and blinded eyes were strained
wistfully upward; then the wounded head
fell back, and when the moon looked down
upon that miniature battlefield, the brave
little broken heart beneath its coat of blue
had stopped beating altogether.

Now, little folks, it is true that the hornets
killed the bluebirds; Ralph and Bobolink
know, and their playmates know it's true.
It is true that birds have hearts and brains;
they have natural affection and can suffer
pain. Do you call those insects cruel ?

Bird Histories.

T05

Wait a moment. While playing near tlie
swamp one evening, three careless lads
battered down a hornets' nest; some of
the insects were slain, and the remainder,
angered of course, and homeless, sought
protection from the chilling night dews.
The first shelter found was the home of
Bluebird Dick; and then they took by
force what had been taken from them by
force. Boys, don't kill the birds; be careful
how you injure any of God's little creatures.
Some day, perhaps, you will read about the
Ancient Mariner; about this man who, once

upon a time, while young and strong, shot
a sea bird called the albatross, and how
very, very sorry he was afterward; that
after many years, when his steps were feeble
and his hair turned white, he could not for-
get about the death of that poor bird. How
he stopped every person that he met, and
told them of the cruel deed, and bade them
heed, and told them finally that none could
pray better or more earnestly than those
who best loved our birds and animals.

" For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

BIRD HISTORIES.

THE "bird of JOVE."

JOVE was Jupiter, the supreme god in
Roman mythology, the Zeus of the

Greeks. The eagle was sacred to this
heathen deity, and was also called the
"Bird of Heaven." Many ancient nations
venerated some particular bird, and many
modern nations, the United States among
others, accept the lordly eagle as their na-
tional emblem. Although native in the free
American wilds, we have stolen, or bor-
rowed him, to speak more politely, as a na-
tional emblem, from Rome and France. He
is our sacred bird. He flies higher over
desert and fertile prairie, among craggy
or evergreen mountains, than any other
feathered creature, although he is not so
large as the great condor of the Andes.
Naturalists tell us that his plumage is of
varied tawny, dull and white hues, and only
his legs are yellow; so are some chickens'.
Then why is the proud monarch — -"king of
birds" — named also the "golden eagle"?
Of course he has some cousins (species) who
are not quite so grand as himself.

In various regions of the earth eagles
are regarded as "terrible," and dangerous
enemies to man and beast. Young children
and lambs have been carried away alive
in the talons of these powerful birds to
their eyries upon inaccessible cliffs. There

upon a rock outside the nest, their doom is
to be torn in pieces for eaglets' food.

Their Creator and ours formed many
another beautiful and more delicate bird,
for song, happiness and rainbow radiance,
not for heartless or ignorant women to
wear murderously, as a sign of their vanity;
and why he created any birds of prey we
need not ask, for even if we do not know
we may be sure that they are necessary to
the general welfare.

A few years ago, not far from our chief
American city. New York, two boys, seven
and five years of age, were playing in a
field, when suddenly a great eagle came
down, as if from a world above and tried to
take up the larger boy in his claws. He
did not succeed at first, and made another
trial; the boy caught up a sickle and de-
fended himself. The audacious bird was
wounded under one wing, and gave up the
battle. He fell over and died. He was
doubtless weakened by hunger, else a blow
from his strong beak might have killed the
brave boy.

There was once a law of the Orkney
Islands to reward any person who killed an
eagle, with a domestic fowl from the flock
of every family within the parish.

Eaofles nest among the high rocks of

io6

Uniisital Nesting Sites.

many groups of wild ocean islands. They
seem to care little whether the regions they
haunt are warm or cold; and they are said
particularly to like to be monarchs of desert
uninhabited regions.

You may have read many wonderful
stories of eagles. I have a true one to re-
late, which some of the young readers of
the Audubon may not have heard. And
many older readers do not know that the
child's magazine called the Little Corporal
was established and gained large success
through an "Eagle Army" of children, as
they were named, because they each paid
ten cents for a colored photograph of " Old
Abe," the "War Eagle" of the Eighth
Wisconsin Regiment of A^olunteers. Yes,
it was a live eagle, this "Old Abe," and he

was carried three years in the war of the
Union, through all the dangers of camp
and battle, by soldiers in that regiment.
And he lived some years afterward, ten-
derly supported in the State House Park at
Madison, Wisconsin.

I saw him once in a procession at Chicago,
perched high over a wagon, with his white
beard and folded wings, looking in wise,
solemn attitude as if he would rebuke the
whole great land of freedom that ever it
had warred against itself. Old Abe Eagle
at that time was sacredly guarded, but he
■was in no danger of trying his wings for a
wide excursion; he had adopted civilized
life, and felt free enough among the folds
of the flag of stars, exhibiting himself to
thousands on the streets of a great city.
Emily Thacher Bennett.

UNUSUAL NESTING SITES.

THE following observations on some
unusual nesting sites from the Nat-
ural History columns of Forest and Stream
are from a paper read by W^alter E. Bryant
before the California Academy of Sciences:

The entire material, with one exception, which
comprises the present paper, has been received in
brief notes or dictations from Messrs. W. Otto
Emerson, A. M. Ingersoll and Chas. W. Knox,
leaving the part taken by the author simply that of
editor and compiler. The initials following the
cases cited are those of the observers, to whom my
thanks are due for communicating their interesting
field observations.

Arkansas Flycatcher — Tyrannus ve7-ticalis. — A
nest was found built upon a fence-post more than
half a mile from the nearest tree. It was secured
from observation on one side by a board nailed to
the post and projecting above it. (A. M. I.)

Black Phcebe — Sayoniis nigficans. — A pair built
for two consecutive years in a well four feet below
the surface. The first year a second nest was built
after the first had been taken. * (W. O. E.)

Baird's Flycatcher — Epidonax difficilis. — A nest
was built at the bottom of a hole five inches deep,
made by a red-shafted flicker in a live oak. (A.M.I.)

Blue-fronted Jay — Cyanocitta stcUeri frontalis. — A

strange departure from the usual habits of jays was
noticed in Placer county, Cal., where they had per-
sisted in building within the snowsheds in spite of
the noise and smoke of passing trains. The de-
struction of their nests by the men employed on the
water train, which makes two trips a week through
the sheds during the summer, sprinkling the wood-
work and tearing down the nests of jays and robins
with a hook attached to a pole, seemed not to dis-
courage them. So accustomed do the jays become
to the passing of trains, that they will often remain
on their nests undisturbed.

In one season more than two hundred nests of
jays and robins were destroyed, so the trainmen say,
between Cisco and Summit, a distance of thirteen
miles. Some of the nests were but partially built,
others contained eggs; these latter ones having
probably been overlooked on previous trips.

The nesting of the jays within the snowsheds is,
so Mr. Ingersoll supposes, to avoid the persecution
of squirrels. None, he thinks, however, succeed in
rearing a brood, for of more than thirty nests which
he found, nearly all were uncompleted. (A. M. I.)

American Goldfinch — Spimis tristis. — In 1884 a
grove of young willows that had been occupied the
previous season by a colony of tricolored blackbirds
was found deserted by them. Many of the black-
birds' nests still remained in forks of the willows

Birds in DiszJiise.

107

from four to ten feet above the marsh. Six of these
old nests were in possession of American goldfinches.
The present tenants had loosely filled the nest about
half full of cat-tail down and had formed only a
slight hollow for the nest proper. Some were found
with eggs and in others there were " birds in last
year's nests." (A. M. I.)

Samuel's Song Sparrow — Melospiza fasciata sam-
uelis. — A nest containing three eggs was found in a
round oyster can which had lodged sideways among
some driftwood in a willow tree. (W. O. E.)

California Towhee — Pipilo fusctis cris sails. — A
pair constructed a nest in a five-gallon kerosene oil-
can that lay on its side in a shallow ditch. Part of
one end of the can had been cut open, giving access
to the birds. (W. O. E.)

Barn Swallow — Chelidoit erythrogaster. — A kind-
hearted postmaster in the country nailed a shelf-like
board against the porch above the entrance to his
office, intending to give the crimson house finches a
place to build. A pair of barn swallows took pos-
session of this arrangement and built on top of it a
nest composed of straw and feathers. This is the
only instance I have known where this species used
no mud in the composition of its nest. The position
of this nest was less remarkable than the peculiarity
of its structure. (A-. M. I.)

A barn swallow's nest was built a few feet below

the surface of a well which was in daily use, water
being raised by means of a windlass and bucket.
The weight of the growing young became so great
that it broke the nest from the moist ground, and
the young were drowned. A second nest was speed-
ily begun upon a shelf of rock, nearly thirty feet
below the surface, and not high above the water.
Unfortunately, the result of this second attempt was
not learned, for it would be exceedingly interesting
to know how, if at all, the young were brought to the
surface from so great a depth. (C. W. K.)

Tree Swallow — Tachycineta bicolor. — A few years
ago I found a nest with young in a crevice under the
projecting and decayed deck of a lumber lighter
moored in Oakland Harbor.

Hutton's Vireo — Vireo huttoni. — A pair of vireos
built this year in the outer branches of a live oak,
only a few feet above the exhaust pipe from a steam
pump, where at times they were compelled to sus-
pend work, owing to the dense vapor which envel-
oped them. Four eggs were laid in this nest. (C.
W. K.)

Long-billed Marsh Wren — Cistothorus palustris.
— A conspicuous nest, containing eggs, was woven
among the almost leafless branches of a young wil-
low, five feet above a fresh water marsh. The
false nests were built as usual, but in the coarse grass
near by. (A. M. I.)

BIRDS IN DISGUISE

HERE are thirty-six birds in disguise.
Tlieir names are given in the form
of anagrams. The anagrams contain the let-
ters which make up the names. By trans-
posing the letters of each anagram, patient
and ingenious readers of the Audubon
Magazine may form the name of the bird
it contains. Take for example No. 21,
Pawling. Transpose the letters and we
find Lapwing. In the same manner
each of the others may be discovered.

For the first five perfect solutions of the
list sent in by subscribers to the magazine
five silver Audubon badges will be sent,
one to each one who solves the puzzles.
The result will be announced in our August
number.

Directions. Number each name to cor-
respond with the anagram. Send the list

with your full name and address to the
Editor of the Audubon Magazine, No.
31S Broadway, New York.

I.

Granite den soup.

19.

Make a world.

2.

Go mind brick.

20.

Drj'er birch.

3-

T my wise finch.

21.

Pawling.

4-

-Blow direly.

22.

Try! Gap! Roar!

5.

Retort riven hang

red 23.

Whirlpool Pi W.

6.

Do keep crow.

24.

Alan's children.

7-

Drink big.

25.

Sabre! Rend! Obit! R.

8.

Our sea eggs.

26.

Who bit B. E. ?

9-

Boil knob.

27-

Pain's perd.

10.

Rush the mirth.

23.

Girls tan.

II.

R. dug moonvine.

29.

Grin him dumb !

12.

Nib's word.

30.

Long brace O sea !

'^3-

Her rain pie.

31-

Reduce kid.

14-

U. go defer surf.

32.

Heed larks.

15-

Magpi rant.

33-

Bask, Radical Negro!

16.

A Turk age.

34-

Near crock.

17-

Sling in sheep.

35-

Shirt Co.

iS.

Grow, parsons!

36.

Lub Bride.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The registered membership of the Society on
April 30, 1S88, was 45,651, showing an increase
of 497 members during the month, drawn from the
following sources:

New York 129 Illinois 16

Massachusetts 55 Iowa 7

Pennsylvania 103 Minnesota i

New Jersey 10 M issouri 2

Vermont 6 Mississippi 4

New Hampshire 13 Kentucky i

Connecticut 41 Texas 19

Rhode Island i North Carolina 7

Maine i6 Florida 6

Indiana i West Virginia 30

Ohio 15 Canada 9

Michigan 5 ' —

497
C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

WARREN'S LEDGER.

The single sheet circular bearing this title, and
described by its publisher as " a periodical devoted
to natural history," is an extraordinary evidence of
the perversity of moral nature which will sometimes
prompt seemingly shrewd people to make unheard
of sacrifices to earn a little money dishonestly, when
it would be much more easy to earn it honestly.

The Ledger publishes a list of birds which it pro-
fesses to want at prices ranging from one to ten
cents per skin. By offering five or six dollars for
rare birds and as much as twenty-five dollars for a
pied duck it seeks to impress country boys with the
idea that they can make a great deal of money by
procuring skins for the enterprising Ledger proprie-
tor. Indeed he assures them that every bird in their
vicinity has a market value, and that they can make
a very good living shooting for him.

But Mr. Warren of the Ledger evidently does not
want bird skins, he lays it down distinctly that he
will not buy them from any one who is not a regular
subscriber to his circular, which he has the impu-
dence to demand fifty cents a year for, coupled with
the further condition that his preserving cotton must
be used for stuffing the birds. This, too, costs fifty
cents a package, weight not specified. What Mr.
Warren wants is to sell his circulars and cotton.

But the character of the circular is best indicated
by the fact that it offers from one to te.n cents a skin
for a long list of birds protected by law. It is thus
technically an incentive to the commission of an
offense, but hardly a very strong one. There are
possibly boys, and men too, who would kill warblers
and finches in defiance of the law, and perhaps skin
and stuff them for a cent apiece, but Mr. Warren

must be possessed of an unusual amount of persua-
sive eloquence if he can induce this or any class of
persons to subscribe fifty cents for his Ledger.

The poor birds have many enemies, but Warren's
Ledger is not likely to prove so formidable a one as
some of our friends have supposed.

CROW AND ANTI-CROW.

One of the greatest crows' roosts ever known in
northern New Jersey has been formed in a piece of
woods near Deckertown, Sussex county. Many
thousands of the birds occupy the trees, and their
cries in the morning when leaving on their foraging
expeditions, and on returning to the roost at night,
can be heard for two miles. The farmers living in
the vicinity, who believe that the crow is a destruc-
tive enemy of theirs, take advantage of their pres-
ence in such great numbers to wage a war of exter-
mination on them, and make raids upon the roost
nightly, shooting and clubbing hundreds of crows to
death. The hunters carry torches, and the startled
birds fly about bewildered, uttering deafening cries
of terror which, added to the banging of the guns
and the shouts of the hunters, make a regular
pandemonium of the woods at night. These raids
are hotly opposed by some of the farmers of the
vicinity, who believe the crow is a friend instead of
an enemy to the farmer; but the anti-crow party is
the largest, and at last accounts this slaughter of the
crows was going on nightly, and will be continued
until the roost is broken up. — Exchange.

NO MORE BIRDS IN BONNETS.

Ladies are no longer to wear birds in their bon-
nets and hats. Thus it has been decreed by fashion.
The benevolent edict comes just in time to save the
last remaining members of the race of humming
birds and birds of paradise. The great forests of
India, Brazil, and the banks of the Mississippi have
been ransacked and have yielded up their treasures
of winged jewelry to adorn the feminine headgear.
Now at last there is to be a truce to the massacre,
and the pretty denizens of the woods may sing and
fly awhile in peace. To estimate the extent of
slaughter perpetrated for the sake of womankind's
adornment we may take the statement of a London
dealer, who admits that last year he sold 2,000,000
small birds of every possible kind and color, from
the soft gray of the wood pigeon to the gem-like
splendor of the tropical bird. Even the friendly
robin has been immolated to adorn the fashionable
bonnet. — Lottdon Qiicen.

The Audubon Note Book.

109

AMONG THE BIRDS IN TEXAS.

Editor Audubon Alagaziiie:

As we live in the land of birds it seems fit that we
should be interested in their protection. Our home
is embowered amid large spreading oaks, cedars and
chinas, besides mulberries (now ripe) which seems
to draw all the feathered tribe, and their songs
make the air ring with their cheering music, besides
apple, peach, pear and plum, all set off with flowers
of many hues in front, and ivies and geraniums fill-
ing the house with their pleasant perfume. I wish
you people, pent up in your great city, could hear
and see for a day the birds and their music, which
fills the air with song. We have two martin houses
and about tweny-five noisy tenants, which chirp,
twitter and sing all day long; jays in numbers, blue-
birds, bee martins, redbirds, thrushes, wrens, tom-
tits, snowbirds, blackbirds, yellowhammers, sap-
suckers, woodpeckers and many others, all singing
at once; but last and loudest and longest and sweet-
est, as the leader of the band, is our own mocking-
bird, and every one without regard to the other, sing-
ing as if the exhibition depended on himself. And
when night comes on, the disconsolate whippoorwill
puts in his or her sad refrain, rendered more dis-
cordant by the hooting of the swamp owl and the
chilling, shivering notes of the screech owl and
rumbling of the swallows or chimney sweeps, which
well nigh takes the poetry out of the whole tribe,
and we feel like turning loose the destroying urchin
to quell the riot; but now from his dreamy perch the
mocking bird trills, carols, and warbles forth his
sweet notes that lull us to sleep, and we thank the
Creator for the lovely songsters that drive away
eternal silence. TuLLY Choice.

KiLGORE, Texas, May 10.

SEALS, SEA LIONS, SEA GULLS.

Editor Audubon Alagazinc:

Have just read an item — can't such fiendishness
be stopped by somebody? — "Fishermen in Shinne-
cock Bay stuff small fish with arsenic or strychnine
in order to poison the sea gulls, which they sell to
feather dealers," and San Francisco fishermen say
the sea lions and seals must be made away with be-
cause they eat up 44,000 tons of fish every year.

San Francisco.

[Our correspondent is very indignant, and justly
so, at the wanton destruction of gulls for the sake of
their feathers, and scarcely less indignant at the
proposed eradication of the seals and sea lions of
the Pacific Coast on the plea that they make away
with forty-four thousand tons of fish every year; but
we must draw a great distinction between the motives

which prompt to action in the two cases. In the first
case we have to do with wanton destruction to gratify
vanity in defiance of the generally recognized fact
that birds are in some way necessary to human well-
being. Here the moral nature is at fault. In the
second case the proposal to kill off the seals and sea
lions is justified by the assumption that the measure
is necessary or at least conducive to human well-
being by increasing our food supply. Here it is only
the head that is at fault, the fishermen having cal-
culated or got hold of the calculation, on perhaps
respectable authority, that the seals and sea lions
consume forty or fifty thousand tons of fish a year
on the Californian coast, conclude very naturally that
the supply of fish available for the fisherman is cor-
respondingly reduced. This hasty conclusion might
have some justification if all the fish taken by the
seals and sea lions were herbivorous, but as nearly
all of them are carnivorous, the calculation requires
that against the weight of fish consumed by the seals
and sea lions we should set off first the weight which
these fish would collectively have consumed had they
escaped the seals' and sea lions' jaws, and if this does
not balance the account in favor of the seals, we
should take into calculation the additional fact that
they prey only on fish which in themselves are sub-
stantial mouthfuls, while the daintier fish prey in
great part upon shoals of young fish requiring a
great number for a meal. Attaching due weight to
these considerations, there is no reason whatever to
suppose that the presence of the seals and sea lions
tend to diminish the available stock of fish in the
ocean; on the contrary, it is reasonably assumable
that their presence may conduce to the maintenance
of a liberal supply. As we have argued before in
this magazine, there may be some errors in the plan
of creation, but they are nothing in comparison with
the errors which man falls into in his efforts to
straighten things out.]

THE MOCKINGBIRD AND THE SPARROW.

An observant gentleman of our city says he thinks
that he hears fewer of the South's greatest songsters,
the mockingbirds, now warbling than ever before,
and believes that the feathered singers are abandon-
ing this section. The only way he can account for
their disappearance is the advent in this section of
those little pests, the English sparrows. They are
turbulent and pugnacious little birds, and all other
birds which do not possess the same characteristics
make haste to abandon their favorite retreats and
leave the sparrows in possession of the field. It
would be a real pity indeed if the South's favorite
birds should be forced out or exterminated by the
English sparrow. — Natchez (A/iss.) Democrat, MayS-

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass., }
2nd mo., 20, 1S86. j'
Editor Forest and Stream :

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. AVe are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 18S6.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

Cornwall-ox-Hudson, N. Y. , }
Feb. 22, 1S86. \

Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In'the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1S86.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society. Yery sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, '/
New York, Feb. 20, 1SS6. \
Editor Forest and Stream:

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society^ and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry' C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE C R O W .
Corviis anicricaiius (AuD.) j

The Audubon Magazine

Vol. II.

JULY, iS88.

No. 6.

THE CROW

THE Crow was long considered a bird
of ill omen, and its reputation to-day
suffers from this ancient superstition.
Among the thoughtless and ignorant this
bird has few friends, but its enemies are
many. The farmer hates it because he
supposes that it does great damage to his
crops in springtime, plucking up the young
grain in the fields to devour the sprouting
seed; later in the season he accuses it of
destroying the eggs of the hens and tur-
keys which have "stolen" their nests and
are sitting in the brush heaps and fence cor-
ners and on the edges of the wood at a
distance from the house; and after the
poultry have hatched out their young the
Crow is credited with appropriating to his
own use a part of the young chickens and
ducks which so mysteriously disappear from
the farm. No doubt in all these accusa-
tions there is some measure of justice; un-
questionably the Crow does considerable
damage to the farmer. But there is an-
other side to all this. If the Crow does
harm he also does good. Who so useful
as the Crow in finding out and devouring
the cutworm which destroys the tender corn
when it is a few inches high, eating through
the succulent stalks, and carrying destruc-
tion wherever it goes ? Who so keen and
methodical as the Crow in his search for
grubs in early spring over the sear, brown
fields which the grass has not yet begun
to brighten? The farmer may not know

that snugly buried among the grass roots
are the pupae of many noxious insects,
which if permitted to come to maturity
would destroy the roots of the grass and
other plants, doing incalculable damage;
but the Crow knows that these creatures
are there, and he knows, too, that they
make very good eating, and so with half
a dozen of his glossy-coated companions
he stalks solemnly about the field, looking
into all the places where it seems as if insects
might be found, and sometimes with his
stout bill sinking a prospect hole in the
ground in an especially likely looking spot.
This system of forage the Crow keeps up
for a good part of the year. Woe to the
field mice if he finds their nest snugly con-
cealed at the root of some old stump, under
dense tussock, or among the sprouts of a
bramble bush where last year's leaves lie
thick upon the ground. A stroke or two of
his strong beak kills the parent mice, the
nest is torn to pieces, and the young and
old are carried off to feed his ravenous
brood.

The crimes of the Crow consist in his in-
jury to very young crops, and his destruc-
tion of eggs and young of poultry and of
insect-eatingbirds. These last are especially
exposed to his attacks, and in a season the
number destroyed by a single Crow must
be very considerable. On the other hand,
this bird devours vast numbers of worms,,
caterpillars, beetles, mice, shrews and

114

The Ci'ow.

moles, which but for his efficient and never
ceasing pursuit would live and reproduce
their kind to the enormous injury of the
agriculturist. It would be hard to say
whether the Crow does most harm or good.
The question has been many times ably
debated by those in favor of and those
opposed to the bird, but it has never been
decided, and perhaps never will be. AVe
strongly incline to the belief that he is a
benefit rather than an injury to the farmer,
but this view is quite opposed to the gen-
eral opinion held of him.

The Crow has a wide range, inhabiting
almost the entire continent of North
America, except the Arctic regions. The
Crows of Florida and California are slightly
different from those of Eastern North
America, but these differences are too
slight to be noticed except by the practiced
ornithologist. In the Eastern States the
Crow is with us all the year round, though
probably the birds which we see in winter
are not the same ones that live here in sum-
mer. At whatever season of the year we
find them they are the same wary, careful,
and yet sedate and dignified birds. If they
have the least suspicion that harm to them
is intended, they will not permit a near ap-
proach, while on the other hand if they feel
confident that a person has no means of injur-
ing them, they will sit on a tree and allow
him to come very near. In winter when
the ground is frozen and covered with snow
the Crows are sometimes hard pushed to
make a living. At such times they often
congregate in great numbers on the sea-
shore, and feed on the clams, mussels and
other shellfish left bare by the retreating
tide. Here they mingle with the snowy
plumaged gulls, and the flocks of black and
white birds spend their time together until
forced ashore by the rising waters.

About the first of April the Crows
begin to build their nests, but long before
that — sometimes as early as the first warm
days of February — great flocks of them

gather in the tall trees of some wood and
hold a convention, which seems to be, in
part at least, devoted to the choosing of
mates for the ensuing season. The males
talk a great deal, and may be seen sailing
here and there far up in the sky, and we
presume that the females sit about in the
treetops and watch the evolutions of their
sable suitors. When all preliminaries are
arranged and the time for building has
come, both male and female begin to gather
materials for the nest. This is composed
in the main of stout twigs, which are some-
times torn from the living branches, and
is lined with mud and moss, over which is
placed cedar bark in fine strips, or some-
times hair and wool. The nest is usually
placed in a rather tall forest tree, but some-
times a cedar of moderate size is chosen.
It is a large and roomy structure, as in-
deed it must be to contain the four or five
nearly full grown young which are ulti-
mately to inhabit it. During the time
when the mother is sitting on the pale-
green, brown-dotted eggs, her mate car-
ries food to her, and sometimes takes her
place on the nest for a time while she flies
off to get a little exercise and rest. When
the young are hatched, both father and
mother have to work hard to satisfy the
cravings of their voracious brood. In go-
ing to and from the nest the old birds are
careful to avoid attracting attention, but
its location is often revealed by the cries
of the young, which, when they are hungry,
keep up a persistent croaking, which is
readily recognized by any one who has
ever heard it.

The young Crows when first hatched
are tiny, naked creatures, remarkable for
nothing except their enormous appetites.
They grow rapidly, and before long are
nearly as large as their parents. When
taken from the nest young they make
most interesting and amusing pets, being
extremely intelligent and becoming per-
fectly tame so as not to require confine-

The Crow.

115

ment. They are, however, rather mis-
chievous, and much given to stealing any-
thing that is bright and glistening. A pair
of young Crows that came under our ob-
servation were perfectly tame, and as soon
as they were able to fly were given full
liberty. They associated on equal terms
with the children, and took part in their
games, seeming readily to comprehend
their part. At night they roosted in the
trees, and in the early morning were to be
seen walking about the lawn. They
always presented themselves at the kitchen
door at the usual time for feeding, which
was just after breakfast, and if the servant
who had the matter in charge delayed giv-
ing them their meal beyond the accus-
tomed time, they called vociferously and
soon brought her out. During the time
the children were absent at school and
there was no one for them to play with,
they associated with the men who were at
work about the place, riding on their carts
and wheelbarrows, gathering food from
the freshly turned up earth in the garden,
and seeming more at home than any
domestic animals on the place except the
dogs. They sometimes made themselves
a nuisance to the men, especially when the
latter were doing anything that required
much stooping. The Crows would alight
on their backs and try to detach from their
trousers the metal buttons, brightened by
much wear. At these they would peck and
pound with their sharp, strong beaks until
the victim would entirely lose patience and
strike viciously at them, when they would
cleverly dodge the blow and fly off with a
caw of derision. These two Crows re-
mained about until winter set in, when
they joined a flock of their migrating
brothers and disappeared. It is said that
some Crows have been taught to pronounce
various words.

The Crow is well known for his courage
against feathered foes, and he boldly
attacks and drives away from the vicinity

of his nest any hawk, owl, or even eagle,
which may venture near it. Against the
owl the Crow seems to have an especial
grudge, and if one of these birds is dis-
covered by one of a flock of Crows, they
all turn upon and attack him, beating and
buffeting him until he succeeds in gaining
some tree with thick foliage, where he is
safe from further molestation. Sometimes
the great horned owl takes a savage re-
venge on the Crows by killing and devour-
ing one of their number. We have seen a
marsh hawk in winter attempt to catch a
Crow, hovering over and trying to seize
one of three that sat on the topmost rail of
a fence. The Crows seemed not at all
alarmed by his demonstrations, and when
he clumsily stretched out his claws to grasp
one of them, the threatened bird only
shifted his position by hopping a foot or
two to one side. The hawk soon became
discouraged, and flew away after other and
more easily captured game.

Years ago when Crows were much more
numerous along the North Atlantic coast
than they are at present, these birds used
to congregate in great flocks in the autumn,
and their roosting grounds were well known.
These were often in dense cedar swamps,
and to and from them at evening and morn-
ing enormous numbers of Crows would
journey, scattering out during the day to
feed over a wide extent of country, again
collecting at the roost at night.

Once in a long time a Crow is seen that
is almost pure white, but such albinoes are
very unusual.

The American Crow is eighteen inches
long, and its outstretched wings measure
over three feet. Its nostrils, which are at
the base of the bill, are hidden under stiff,
bristly, or hair-like feathers, which are di-
rected forward, or toward the point of the
bill. All the feathers arc black, being
glossy and shiny in the male and some-
what duller in the female. The bill and
feet are black.

ALEXANDER AVILSON

IT was at this unsettled stage of his
career that Wilson, always eager for
a change, went to visit his brother-in-law
William Duncan at Queensferry, where he
remained for a few months assisting his
relative in his business and afterward ac-
companying him on what his biographer
describes as "a mercantile traveling tour"
over the eastern districts of Scotland.

This trip took him further afield than he
had ever been before: new scenes, new in-
cidents expanded his views, a pedlar's life
presented itself as a life of independence;
and now that he had at length the oppor-
tunity of engaging in so congenial a career,
he realized for the first time how utterly
distasteful was the sedentary employment
for which he had been trained.

Full of his new plans, and resolved to
attempt " the establishment of his good
fortune in the world," as he tells us, he
applied to his friends, who assisted him in
providing the requisites for a small pack
containing silks, muslins, prints, etc., and
thus provided, he entered on his new ca-
reer with a light heart and sanguine ex-
pectations of success.

The life itself was not without its charms
— alive to the beauties of Nature, it was
no mean privilege to be afforded daily
opportunities of visiting the places rich in
historic interest or scenic beauty that lie
scattered over all the extent of the land.
"His attention," says his biographer, "was
attracted by everything of worth, and he
would often leave his pack to visit some
place of antiquity, or the former residences
of his favorite authors and poets."

During his wanderings as a pedlar he
visited every churchyard which lay in his
way, transcribing all curious and quaint
epitaphs, of which he made a collection of
over three hundred, but these with other
of his desultory writings were lost in sub-

sequent wanderings without having been
given to the world, which is a great pity,
for some Scottish epitaphs are very quaint.

While engaged in this occupation Wilson
was adding constantly to his collection of
poems, in which he described the leading
incidents and emotions of his life; and
from some of these it is evident that he
found the life of a pedlar one that exposed
him to cold, fatigue and hunger as well as
to many petty annoyances that galled him
sorely. It was by no means the life his
fancy had painted it; the frequent cold
repulses to which he was subjected and
the meagreness of the profits resulted in
his returning to Paisley somewhat dis-
gusted, and in his attempting to secure
fame and fortune by the publication of his
poems.

Encouraged by the favorable opinion of
Mr. Crichton of the Towns Hospital, he
published his poems, set forth the merits of
the contents of his pack in the following
quaint handbill, and once more started to
seek a market for the contents of his pack
and for his new volume of poems.

Advertisement Extraordinary.

Fair ladies, I pray, for one moment to stay,

Until with submission I tell you,
What muslins so curious, for uses so various,

A poet has here brought to sell you.

Here's handkerchiefs charming; book muslins like
ermine,

Brocaded, striped, corded, and check'd.
Sweet Venus, they say, on Cupid's birthday,

In British-made muslins was decked.

If these can't content ye, here's muslins in plenty,

From one shilling up to a dozen.
That Juno might wear, and more beauteous ap-
pear,

When she meant the old Thunderer to cozen.

Here are fine jaconets, of numberless sets,
With spotted and sprigged festoons;

And lovely tambours, with elegant flowers,
For bonnets, cloaks, aprons, or gowD=.

Alexander Wilson.

117

Now ye fair, if ye choose any piece to peruse,
With pleasure I'll instantly show it;

If the pedlar should fail to be favored with sale,
Then I hope you'll encourage the poet.

This second journey brought him noth-
ing but bitter disappointment and wounded
pride, thoroughly disgusting him with the
pack, and convincing him that hawking
his poems was no more profitable. An-
noyed at the failure of his plans, he re-
turned to his native town nearly penniless,
and much depressed in spirits, convinced
that a packman is a personage whom none
esteem, and almost every one despises.
He found the general opinion in which
packmen were held was " that they are
mean-spirited, loquacious liars, cunning
and illiterate, watching every opportunity,
and using every mean and low art within
their power to cheat." He found, too, that
for a packman to pretend to be a poet was
only to expose himself to ridicule.

The sale of his poems proving insuffi-
cient to provide the necessaries of life,
Wilson was obliged to resume the labors
of the loom, at which he was tolerably ex-
pert, but he worked in a desultory, half-
hearted way, and was always in want.
This brought on feelings of despondence
which affected his health, and gradually
reduced him to a very low state. Rousing
himself at length, and aided by the kindly
counsel and exertions of friends, he again
started with pack and poems, and as an ad-
ditional resource endeavored to procure
some writing for the periodicals of the day.

He contributed several pieces in prose
and poetry to the Glasgow Magazine, and
their acceptance brightened his prospects.
At this time Wilson wrote the well-known
ballad of " Watty and Meg," which was near-
ly contemporaneous with Burns's " Tam
o' Shanter," and was supposed to be the
production of that poet, a supposition
which raised Wilson's spirits to a very
high pitch; and, shortly afterward, in con-
sequence of the Bee refusing to publish

Wilson's criticism of " Tam o' Shanter," Wil-
son sent the manuscript to Burns direct,
and received a friendly reply, which led to
a subsequent meeting of the two poets, and
a pleasant evening at Burns's farm.

Wilson having been introduced by some
of his friends to a debating society at the
Edinburgh Pantheon, and having on this
first occasion been drawn into an unpre-
meditated speech which elicited consider-
able applause, he took a regular part in
future debates, making all his addresses in
poetry.

In this way he became conscious of
the possession of more than average abil-
ity, but entirely discouraged by his unsuc-
cessful ventures, with a distaste for the
loom, with no career open to him, and with-
out habits of steady application, his life
promised to be a failure. He recognized
the necessity of training himself for some
steady employment, and being recom-
mended to fit himself for the position of
mercantile clerk, applied for instruction in
the necessary branches of arithmetic, in
which he was deficient, and persevered for
two days, but on the third day he gave
it up.

Then came the practical result of this
roving, unsettled life — he drifted into the
companionship of agitators who were favor-
ing revolutionary principles, aiid who per-
suaded him to write squibs reviling and
satirizing the conduct of those who were
the most offensive to their views of liberty,
or -obnoxious as employers.

Wilson, thoroughly familiar with all the
persons and circumstances, and ready to
redress imagined wrongs, was easily pre-
vailed on, and wrote a number of poetical
squibs, for one of which he was prosecuted
and sentenced to imprisonment in the Pais-
ley jail, and to burn the manuscript with
his own hand.

Even while the sentence was being car-
ried out, he became conscious of his error,
and years later he referred to his conduct

ii8

Birds of the Primeval World.

in the matter as to " the errors of an un-
disciplined youth, with more sail than bal-
last, and often led by imagination."

Under bail for his offenses, bitterly dis-
posed to indulge in further satires, discon-
tented with himself and the conditions
which he sought in vain to escape, he con-
ceived the idea of emigrating to the United
States and beginning life anew. The idea
once entertained took firm hold of him,

and animated by a sufficiently powerful
motive, he set to work on his loom with a
will, and with the kind assistance of friends
was soon in possession of the means to pay
his passage to the promised land, for which
he set out with his nephew William Dun-
can, a lad of sixteen, on May 23, 1794,
and, after a voyage of twenty-two days,
reached the land where he imagined all his
wrongs would cease.

BIRDS OF THE PRIMEVAL WORLD.

SOME of our grandfathers and grand-
mothers were very estimable people;
in fact, they are so to this day; but it is
astonishing what a lot of things there are
that they knew nothing about. Our fathers
and mothers have learnt and found out so
many things that they sometimes talk as if
they knew almost everything, but between
you and me, if the truth were only known,
it would be possible to write a whole book
about the things they know nothing about,
and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if the
present boys and girls were to grow up,
and open their eyes, and find out a lot of
those things and turn out to be the clever-
est folks that ever lived.

The way things go on in this world is
just a riddle, and some people are much
sharper at finding out riddles than others,
and every now and then one of these sharp
fellows finds out one of Nature's riddles,
and astonishes people; for when a riddle
is once found out, you can't help feeling
that the answer is a right one.

Now I want to tell you about some very
extraordinary birds that lived ever so long
ago; I would not like to say how many
thousands of years, because somebody
would be sure to jump up and say the
world wasn't made then, and then some-
body else would be sure to jump up with a
sneer, and ask him how long he thought it

took Niagara to cut through a mile of rock?
No, it's no good disputing about how long
ago, and it's no particular matter. If you
see an eagle soaring high aloft, you know
that he's a long way off without measuring
the distance, and so about those birds I
was speaking of, it is quite safe to say that
"they lived ever so long ago." Well, these
birds used to live in the sea, some of them
had no wings and got their living by div-
ing, or, as one might say, by divers' means,
and others had long wings like gulls; but
the remarkable thing that distinguished
them from any birds you ever saw was
that, instead of beaks, they had jaws armed
with long rows of teeth like a lizard or a
crocodile. There can be no doubt about
the birds having lived at the time I speak
of, because their bones have been found,
and their jaws with the teeth in them, and
there couldn't be any better evidence than
that. What appears stranger still is that
all the remains of birds found in that page
of the world's history had lizards' jaws and
teeth, and, when you turn back the leaves
still further (I suppose you know that the
world's history is written on thick sheets
of rock), there were no birds in the world
at all, nothing to speak of in fact except
lizards in great variety, and some of these,
both small and large, walked on their hind
legs, and stretched out their long necks in

Birds of the Primeval World.

119-

search of frogs and other delicacies, and
tried to behave themselves like birds.

I am going to tell you something more
about these birds directly, and what pages
of the world's history their remains are
found in, but I want to point out to you
first that the whole world's history is, as I
said, full of riddles, and when the pages of
the great stone book were turned over, and
it was found that first came the lizards on
four legs, then that they took to walking
on their hind legs in the next page, then
that there was a lot of birds with lizards'
jaws in the next page, and ever after that
the birds put away their jaws and teeth
and took to wearing beaks as they do to
this day, everybody felt that this was a
riddle that he was bound to answer some-
how. The bones were there and it was no
good saying that they never had any flesh
on them. Let any wide-awake American
boy or girl come home late for dinner and
find nothing on the table but turkey bones
on all the plates, and you'll find it's no
good telling him or her that there had
been no turkey for dinner, and so it was
with the old-world birds' bones. There is
the riddle, and how are you going to an-
swer it?

Well, most people said there must have
been another creation before this one, but
the geologists, that is, the people who know
how to read the writing on the pages of
the great stone book, said that that was all
very fine, for if there had been one new
creation, there must have been a great
many, for after you turned back the leaves
with the crawling lizards on them, you
come to nothing but fishes, and when you
turn back still another page, there are
fishes, but they have no proper backbone;
still nearer the beginning of the book,
there were no fish even, but there were
still lobsters to be had if there had been
anybody to go after them, but the princi-
pal creatures that lived in that age of the
world were clams and oysters and such like

moUusca — as people call them — and you
might think it a great pity that they were
so plentiful and no market for them, but
that is not the right way to look at it.
But when you come to turn back, to the
very earliest pages of the book there is
nothing so respectable even as a mollusk;
in all the world there was perhaps nothing
with so much sense as an oyster, and that
doesn't amount to much, although he has
a beard — nothing, in fact, but creatures
without brains or backbones or eyes, or in
fact anything else except stomachs and
trimmings, that is extensions which did for
legs, arms, feelers or anything else. So if
there must be a new creation to account
for the birds with teeth, that I was telling
you about, there must have been ever so
many new creations. Perhaps there were,
it's hard to say; but I'll tell you how
Charles Darwin read that riddle about
thirty years ago, and, although almost
everybody doubted when he first told it,
the more people think of it, the more it
looks as if it were the true answer.

He said that God created some little
simple cells in the beginning, such as it is
not possible to see without the aid of a
microscope, they are so small, and that
these went on growing and giving birth to
others that differed a little from each other,,
and that owing to the different circum-
stances they were placed in, some took to
getting their living in one way, and some
in another, and that this had such an effect
on fhem that after a time they were no
more like each other in tastes, habits and
appearance than a respectable backwoods-
man and a member of the New York Stock
Exchange; then he said their children went
on growing more and more different, ac-
cording as their change of circumstances
and habits affected them, and in course of
time the infusoria, as they call the lower
creatures, begat molluscs, and that these
went on changing gradually and getting
more brains, until in time their young ones

I20

Birds of the Primeval World.

became fishes, and that after ages of time
the fishes got backbones, and some of them
became more and more hke Hzards, and,
being able to live in either land or water,
they went ashore and took to feeding on
vegetables, until in the course of ages they
never thought of going back to the water
except to get a drink, and as some changed
one way and some another, and gradually
got warm blood, and wanted something to
keep the cold out, some grew feathers and

they would grow up to be very different
women, but for all that they would both be
women; but Darwin answered them that if
circumstances and habits would make a
little change in twenty years it would make
a bigger change in twenty thousand years,
and besides that, he said some other things
that are pretty hard to answer.

He said, for instance, that all the dogs
came from one wild stock something like
the wolf, but, although they had been only

UPPER VIEW.
JAWS OF HESPERORNIS HALF NATURAL SIZE.

UPPER VIEW.
JAWS OF ICTHYORNIS TWICE NATURAL SIZE.

became birds, and some let their hair grow,
and became kangaroos and opossums, and
gave up laying eggs as their fathers, or
rather I should say, their mothers, had
always done before them.

A good many people laughed at this
theory of Darwin's, for they said that,
although circumstances and habits alter
the character of man or any other animal,
they cannot alter the species, or sort. It
was true, of course, that if a woman died
and left two little infant girls, and one was
adopted by a family of wealth and refine-
ment, and the other brought up in an in-
stitution and then sent to work on a farm,

a few thousand years in domestication, a
visit to a dog show showed that they had
been changed in ever so many directions.
Who would suppose that the mastiffs, the
Newfoundland dogs, the blood hounds,
and bull dogs, and greyhounds, and Italian
greyhounds, and spaniels and pug dogs
and toy terriers, all came from one family?
And yet there is no doubt that they did.
So too with the pigeons. The fan tails,
tumblers, carriers, and all came from one
family — the blue rock pigeon — and all
those changes have been effected in do-
mestication. Then he pointed to the poll
cattle of Aberdeen that have given up

The Audubon Knights.

121

wearing horns, which is a great change of
fashion for an ox, and he pointed out so
many other facts that people hardly knew
what to believe. They were willing enough
to believe that birds and animals might go
on changing until they are no more like
their own relations than a red Indian is
like a Broadway dude, but as to man hav-
ing descended from a monkey — no — they
couldn't believe that. The white man might
have been descended from the Bosjeemen
of Africa or some such low race, but not
from a monkey. Well, Darwin said he didn't
believe that the parents of the first man
were exactly monkeys or gorillas, but a
something half-way between a gorilla and
a Hottentot. In fact he said that as all
changes were gradual, there must be a
missing link or something between, to con-
nect the forms of life now on the earth
with the forms of life found in the rocks.
Well, this " missing link " became a great
catch-word and was in everybody's mouth,
and somebody remarked that if Darwin
was right there must be a great many mis-
sing links, and for his part he wouldn't
believe in Darwin's theory until he saw the
missing links between the reptiles and birds,
for as the reptiles lived first and the birds
were found a little further on in the book,

there must have been a lot of intermediate
or half and half creatures between them.

Darwin admitted that that was true, but
then, he said, the stone book was so big,
and so many of the records had been
rubbed out, that one might possibly never
be able to read the whole hisLory, but that
for all that, if we looked long enough, we
should find some of the " missing links "
sooner or later, and now, as I set out by
telling you, his words have come true.
Long ages ago, before this continent rose
above the surface of the ocean, when the
crests of the Rocky Mountains formed
only a reef of islands, the sea that washed
them was full of life, and these birds, the
divers, and the sailors, with their long-
toothed jaws, used to go fishing for a living,
and perhaps even for sport in those very
waters. There can be no doubt about it,
for their bones are found imbedded in the
chalk and mud that formed the bottom in
those days, but which has since been raised
up and covered with vegetation and a fruit-
ful soil, and become fit for the support of a
great nation. We give here cuts repre-
senting side views and upper views of the
jaws of Hesperornis and Icihyornis, and will
tell more about these birds in our next
number.

THE AUDUBON KNIGHTS.

"/^^H dear! I just wish I was a king,

V_y wouldn't I make things spin !" and
Alex shut his book with a bang.

" What's the matter ?" asked mamma,
who was sewing near. " Whose head do
you wish to cut off?"

" Nobody's, mamma, but I've been read-
ing about earls and lords and knights of
long ago, and how they treated the poor
people that they had charge of, and I just
wished I was a king, and I'd turn the tables
on 'em mighty quick and let 'em find out
how it felt."

", That's what Bruce did," put in Jack,
who was playing checkers with Seymour.
" But I'd rather be a baron myself and be
kind to the paupers, and so be a bright
and shining example to the rest of them.
Go ahead Sey, it's your move."

"You a bright and shining example !"
almost shouted Seymour, "listen to the
conceit of the fellow, will you ? why, you're
always the one in scrapes. Hold on ! mind
what you're about, will you?" he added,
" it's my turn yet, you have to crown me,
you know."

I 22

The Atcdubo7i Knights.

"Boys," said mamma, looking up at the
" Troublesome Trio," as papa called them.
" Boys, how would you like it if I should
make you knights, and set you to govern
certain portions of the farm ?"

Three curious faces were turned toward
her, and Jack said anxiously :

" You don't mean us to carry soup and
jelly to the people in Frog Hollow, do you ?
or see that the children go to school ?"

"Oh no, not at all," and mamma smiled,
for Jack disliked missionary work exceed-
ingly. " Your subjects shall be of the
feathered tribe. I want you to protect the
birds, and see that no depredations are
made on their nests. There used to be so
many about when I was a little girl, and
now we have hardly any, and the few we
have are so shy and timid that one can't go
near them."

"Do you mean," said Alex, "that we
are each to have certain nests to protect ?"

"No; you are each to have a piece of
land, and you are bound to protect any
bird that builds on it. Do you see, it is
just as it was long ago. I am your queen,
and you are my barons. I present you
with the land (just as William did the Nor-
man barons) and you must protect the peo-
ple. Do you like my plan?"

" First-rate idea ; what piece of land are
you going to give me ?" asked Seymour.
The checkers had been forgotten, and
both he and Jack sat tipping their chairs
back against the wall.

" To you ? well, I will give you the north
pasture and the strip of woods behind it."

" Thanks, O, most mighty queen, and I,
on my bended knee (only I won't bend it,
'cause I bruised it this morning) do here
promise and vow to protect it at the risk of
my life, to — "

" Oh get out, Seymour, don't be an ape.
What'U you give me, mom ?" said the eldest
of the boys.

" Well, Alexander, to you I will give the
old mill and the pasture around it, and

Sleepy Hollow. Jack, you can have Rocky
Point and the marsh by the new dam, and
the hedge on Willow Lane. Now to-mor-
row you must explore your land and see
how many nests there are already, and all
through the spring you must keep account
of them, just how many there are, what
kind, and how many birds in each. In this
way you will learn a great deal about them.
And you must hereafter protect them from
the village boys and all other enemies."
"Can't I do something too, mamma ?"
" Indeed, you may," and mamma stroked
the fair curls, well pleased that Philip, the
delicate one of the boys, should take an
interest in anything that would take him
out of doors. " You shall have the garden,
and the orchard, and the wall behind the
barn — the barn too, if you like."

The next morning the boys started off
on their exploring trips. They passed the
barn, and went together along the lane
with its zig-zag fence, but where the road
came to the pond, they separated, and
went each to his own province. Seymour,
crossing the creek on stepping-stones, and
pushing his way through a hedge, began to
climb the steep ascent of north pasture, or
the high pasture as it was sometimes called.
At the top of the hill, parallel with the
fence, stood a row of cedar trees, here there
was a great chattering going on, and as he
drew near, he saw hundreds of blackbirds
flying from tree to tree. When he came to
look into the matter, he found that a set-
tlement was being made on his property,
and several nests were in the trees. After
watching them for a while, he crossed the
meadow to the woods. Here he heard
nothing but birds, birds on all sides, some
singing ravishing melodies, some twitter-
ing busily at their work, and some scolding
angrily. In vain he tried to follow the
fairy voices that called to him in an entic-
ing manner to come look at their nests.
Through the bushes, over fallen trees,
through brambles that caught and held

The Audttboii Knip'hts.

I 2

him fast, he scrambled, looking eagerly for
the dainty nests that were too well hidden
to be found so easily.

At last, baffled and tired and hot, he sat
down to rest. The birds laughed mock-
ingly all around him, but he laughed back,
saying, " Never mind, wait till this after-
noon, when it's cooler, and I'll fix you."

In the meantime, Alex had been to the
old water mill, where a host of barn swal-
lows were making their homes, and a few
sleepy owls whirred through the rickety

HE SAW HUNDREDS OF BLACKBIRDS.

roof at the sound of his approach. Then
out across the meadow, peering into every
bush, and under every tuft of grass for
songsters' nests, listening, with a thrill of
delight, to the soft warble of the " Orpheus"
and the rich note of the robin, coming
melodiously from the woods, to Sleepy
Hollow, a quiet grove of chestnut, oak,
and beech trees, that lay between three
high hills — one of them the north pasture
itself — to where, in a tall tree, dead long
ago, a woodpecker made his nest, sticking
his head out now and then, and giving
his shrill Flick-flick-flick^ as though gossip-
ing about the weather.

Jack took his way to Rocky Point, a high
peak of rocks that raised up beside the so-
called new dam (which was not really new
at all, for papa had often been swimming
in it when a boy, but only relatively new,
in comparison with a still older milldam.)
No birds were to be seen or heard here, so
he slid down over the rough stones to the
swamp that bordered the pond on one side.
Here, to his delight, were three little sand-
pipers, running out over the mossy logs
and stones, and tilting themselves about as
if they were playing seesaw. After a whole
morning's search for their nests, and after
falling into the mud three times, he made
up his mind that they had none, and re-
solved to go home, and on the way was
much gratified by finding five sparrows'
nests in his hedge on Willow Lane.

They all came in to dinner as hungry as
hawks, and full of their discoveries.

" There's a whole colony of crow-black-
birds in the cedar trees of the north pas-
ture," began Seymour.

"Yes, and three sandpipers' nests in the
marsh (at least the birds were there; I'm
going to look for the nests again this after-
noon), and no end of hedge sparrows (real
nests) on Willow Lane," put in Jack.

"And there's a pair of woodpeckers
building in Sleepy Hollow, and some barn
swallows in the mill," finished Alex.

" Well, there's a bluebird in the orchard,
and three robins in the garden," said litle
Phil. " I don't know what's in the wall. I got
so much interested in watching the blue-
bird, that I didn't get that far."

"Well, my doughty knights," said mam-
ma, " you have found out where some of
your tenants live, you must now see to it
that they are allowed to remain there un-
molested."

" Yes'm, we will," came the chorus.

At tea they were as much excited as they
had been at dinner, for many new and
startling discoveries had been made.

"And what do you think, mother ?" said

124

TJie Audubon Knio^hts.

Alex, when, supper over, they sat on the
porch and watched the silver moon climb
up the evening sky, " while I was watching
a lovely catbird (or Orpheus, rather) a
little ragamufifin came along — one of your
friends from Frog Hollow — and he pulled
out a slap-jack, and (he didn't see me)
was just going to let fly at my Orpheus,
when I grabbed him by the nape of the
neck and gave him such a trouncing that
he'll not get over it in a hurry."

" Ah ! but my dear brother," remarked
Jack, " I did better than that. I am afraid
your friend will come back again and do
a great deal of damage to spite you."

me say that I think you took the wisest
steps possible in the matter. But we must
go to bed, here's Phillie sound asleep in
papa's arms. Good-night, my brave barons.
I wish you every success with your 'faire'
countries. "

The summer passed and autumn came.
The boys had learned much in the past
four months. Every bird that flew was
familiar to them, and they had little books
in which they wrote down their observa-
tions, and in which they had skilfully drawn
maps of their separate provinces, on which
were marked the trees that bore the nests.

The birds were gone. After a series of

"l WAS SO MUCH INTERESTED WATCHING A BLUEBIRD IN THE ORCHARD."

" I don't see what else I could have
done or how I could have done it bet-
ter," said Alex, "unless I'd killed him,"
he added, "and I didn't want to do that."

" Then listen to what I did, and here-
after do not scoff at your brother's ' bright
and shining example.' I," and he poised
himself gracefully on the railing, and spoke
slowly and impressively, " I took a lot of
Audubon pledges down to Frog Holloio and
enlisted all the boys, and they've sworn to
protect the birds, and they're interested too.
Haven't I got a ' goodlie lot of retainers '
for my earldom ?"

"Bravo !" " Well done !" came from all
sides, as he clambered down from his perch
and went to his mother, saying:

" There are their signatures, you take
charge of them, will you ?"

"Certainly, my son," said she, "and let

plaintive farewells, they had winged their
way to the sunny south. And then winter
came, and with his soft snows filled to the
brim all the forsaken little nests.

It was the day before Christmas, and the
boys had been gone all afternoon to hunt
for greens and holly in the woods, and now
it was growing dark and they had not come
back, and mamma and little Phil were
watching for them from the window. Pretty
soon three stout figures staggered up the
drive under a load of holly and laurel
boughs, and three merry faces were turned
toward the window, shaking the snow off,
and all talking at once. At last Alex was
heard say :

" We've had a splendid time, and we did
not forget the birds either."

" The birds ! dear ; why they went south
long ago."

Gold Beauty.

125

" O no ! mamma," put in Seymour, "the
chickadees are here, and the sparrows, and
we've hung sheaves of wheat all round the
porch, in the orchard and on some of the
trees in the woods, Swedish style, you
know."

And that night, when four drowsy heads
were laid on soft pillows to dream of com-
ing splendors, mamma, candle in hand,

went the rounds, and as she bent over the
dark heads, she thought of these lines
from the "Ancient Mariner":

" He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

lie prayeth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small ;

For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

Etheldred Breeze Barry.

GOLD BEAUTY.

THE STORY OF A BUTTERFLY.

GOLD BEAUTY'S first recollections
were of finding herself in a shady
corner of the garden under a lilac bush.

She supposed she had lived before this,
but, try as she might, she could remember
nothing about it, and so for all practical
purposes it is just as well to say that she
began her existence on that particular June
morning when she first became conscious
that she was alive.

Gold Beauty learned so many things
that morning that it is a great wonder so
much hastily acquired knowledge did not
bring her down with brain fever; for, be-
sides finding out that she was alive, she
found out there were many other live things
all around her — creatures that lived in the
grass, creatures that lived in the air, and
creatures that lived in the treetops. Every-
where the whole earth was full of living be-
ings, and this seemed wonderful to her.
And as she looked around the old garden
and saw its rows of pretty flowers, and its
clumps of blossoming shrubs, its neat vege-
table beds, and its thrifty asparagus patch;
to say nothing of the wonderful blue sky
that hung over it, and the unceasing music
that kept it full of melody, she was well
content to find herself in the midst of it,
and thought the world a charming place.

At first she wondered whether the things

had always been there, or whether they
were new like herself, but this was such a
puzzling problem that she soon gave it up,
and just enjoyed everything without caring
whether it was new or old. The garden
was an old-fashioned one, where beauty
and utility were happily combined. Sweet
peas climbing up the ugly bean poles, and
pansies peeping up among the radishes,
while sweet mignonette ran round and
round the carrots in the friendliest manner,
just as Sunday might run after Monday
saying, " Here is some lavender, dear, to
put among your clean muslins."

Gold Beauty thought that such an ar-
rangement could not be improved upon,
and would have scorned a garden where
flowers and vegetables stood jealously
apart. Thus it is not surprising, considering
the circumstances, that she also developed
into a very sociable creature, and felt on
friendly terms with every one, and admired
everything in the garden, herself included.

Not that she was vain, oh no! that would
have been silly when there were so many
other creatures, so much more beautiful
than herself, but she took great comfort in
her beautiful green robe with its blue and
yellow and pink trimmings, and was glad
that her appearance was in harmony with
the beauty everywhere around her. And

126

Gold Beautv.

it was certainly a happy thought to give
Hfe to one who enjoyed it as much as she
did, for from the flaming oriole that rocked
in the topmost branch of the tallest locust
tree, down to the little lady-bird that thought
she was a great traveler if she journeyed
twice around the rim of a damask rose,
Gold Beauty loved one and all and was
happy in thinking that they loved her in
return.

It is true that not many of the tenants
of the old garden even had a thought to
spare for Gold Beauty, but she had her
friends for all that, among the humbler
class to which she belonged, for, of course,
being only a creeper, she did not expect
to be noticed by any one but creepers, and
would have been quite overcome with shy-
ness if a flyer had. paid her any but the
smallest attentions. Yet there were flyers
and flyers, Gold Beauty soon found out,
and she divided them for her own conveni-
ence into two classes: those that lived al-
most entirely up among the trees where the
songs were, and those that seemed to pre-
fer the lower regions and were delighted
chiefly with the flowers. She amused her-
self sometimes with wondering which class
she would join if she had her choice. She
thought there were many advantages to be
considered on both sides. It is true that
the low-flyers were in some respects more
in harmony with the flowers, being so light
and airy that they could balance them-
selves with ease on the bell of the tiniest
lily of the vally, or go to sleep if they liked
in the bosom of any convenient rose they
might select; they were also exceedingly
beautiful with their wings gorgeously
painted on either side, in the most glowing
colors. Still the high flyers had the songs
all to themselves, and could soar up to the
very sky, even if their wings were not
painted, and Gold Beauty had hard work
to make choice between them, and used to
get her poor brain quite excited over the
problem until she reflected that she was

only a creeper after all, and wings were a
matter of no concern to her.

Then she would come back to realities
with a jump, and set about her real busi-
ness of life, which was eating. Yes, it is
true, she was such an eater, that it seemed
sometimes that she could not find enough
in the garden to satisfy her. Not that she
was a glutton, oh no; but she belonged to
a family of rapid growers, and they really
could not help having ravenous appetites.

She would have helped it if she could,
for she often found it inconvenient to be
always hungry; and often had to give up
invitations to tea, because she was ashamed
of her appetite; and she grew so fast that
her clothes were all the time becoming too
small for her. This was her greatest
grievance, for she often found herself too
large for her old suit before she could get
another one ready, and then she was forced
to hide herself in some secluded place and
go entirely without eating for a day or two,
and of course she ceased growing for the
time, but at the end she could come forth
again clad in fresh raiment.

Although this happened over and over
again. Gold Beauty kept on eating as much
as ever, for she had made up her mind to
grow all she could, as fast as she could,
and so get through with it, for she knew
that her appetite would never leave her so
long as she had to grow.

In her journeyings through the garden
for food and pleasure, she came upon
many curious things, but nothing puzzled
her more than to find every now and then
one of those queer-shaped gray towers in
which she was told poor captives were
kept.

She could never find out why they were
put there, or what they had done, and she
spent some time in imagining reasons for
their imprisonment, wondering occasion-
ally if it could be possible that any of them
were put there because they had enormous
appetites. This very thought made her

Gold Beauty

127

feel so uncomfortable that she would stop
eating for a while and take to watching the
high-flyers. And here she often found
puzzling things too, for she often saw one
of her own class carried off by some jaunty
high-flyer, and she wondered why it was
done. None of the creepers ever came
back to tell her, and she often felt aggrieved
because none ever carried her up right
amidst the songs. But one day when she
had taken a longer journey than usual and
had, in fact, almost reached the little brook
that ran along under the apple trees, and
which was separated from the garden by a
wide space of green grass, she saw a sight
that explained this mystery and filled her
heart witl> terror.

She was reclining on a broad grass blade,
enjoying the sunlight, and taking pleasure
from the sound of the little brook that was
rippling over the pebbles, when she saw a
high-flyer sailing rapidly toward her and
bearing along with it one of her creeper
friends.

Gold Beauty thrilled with excitement, for
she thought her time had come, and she
was also going to be caught up and taken
to the treetops. But she remained instead,
quite unseen, owing perhaps to the color of
her dress which was the same shade as the
grass blade, and the high-flyer, who seemed
in this case to be a low-flyer too, dropped
right down in the grass, and the curious
watcher saw her enter her home, which for
some strange reason she had built right
down there, and feed her hungry babies
with the poor creeper, which they devoured
with the greatest relish.

Gold Beauty looked on while her heart
swelled with pity. Cruel, cruel, high-fly-
ers, she thought, not to know that the poor
creepers did not like to be eaten. She
shuddered at the sight and then moved
quickly away, for she did not doubt her
turn would come next if the heartless
mother saw her.

After this Gold Beauty's worship of the

high-flyers was mixed with a little distrust
and she took care to keep out of their way.
But one day the thought came to her that
perhaps she had judged her old idols too
harshly, for it was just possible, she thought,
that all high-flyers, did not eat creepers.

Perhaps it was only those that preferred
the ground for their homes instead of the
breezy treetops, that were so cruel as to
feed their children upon innocent living
beings. Filled with this idea Gold Beauty
immediately considered it her duty to jour-
ney among the treetops and see if it were
true.

Accordingly she set forth one beautiful
day when the air was soft and the old gar-
den seemed full of peace, and made her
way to the cherry trees that threw their
long arms quite over the garden wall.

To climb such heights was tedious work
to a slow-moving creature like herself, but
she pressed on, and moved from branch to
branch, and tree to tree with the utmost
patience. But, alas! all that she saw only
confirmed her in the belief that the high-
flyers one and all looked upon creepers as
things only fit to feed their own petted
darlings on, for everywhere she went, and'
every home she visited showed the same
thing — a group of hungry children waiting
eagerly for their mothers to bring them
hapless creepers for their food.

This all affected Gold Beauty's spirits
so that even her appetite began to suffer,
and the last place she visited, which con-
tained six ferocious babies, was too great
a strain upon her nerves, for she quite
gave up, and, a shower coming down at
the same time, she made a little pavilion
for herself of a leaf and abandoned herself
to the most gloomy views of life.

A short time after this, however, she be-
came a little more cheerful, for she sud-
denly found that she had stopped growing.
She knew that this had happened by her
complete loss of appetite, and in her joy at
knowing that she had ceased to be a slave

128

Gold Beatity.

to eating she again began to take a little
comfort in life. Once more the garden
seemed attractive, and, although the high-
flyers had ceased to call forth her old, rap-
turous admiration, the low-flyers still re-
mained as beautiful as ever, and she never
wearied of watching their graceful flights
or of seeing them hover over the flowers,
whose bright hues they rivalled, and drink
the delicious nectar upon which they ex-
isted. In those days Gold Beauty had no
trouble in choosing between the high-flyers
and low-flyers, for the latter had become
her favorites, and their brilliant presence
gave the garden its most delightful charm.
But just when Gold Beauty had quite
grown up, and expected to spend the rest
of her days in peace, fate held a calamity
in store for her, more dreadful than any
she had ever dreamed of.

The wicked fairy who made it her busi-
ness to wander around the garden and
blight the flowers with mildew, and blast
the young buds, and scatter the blossoms
to the wind, and kill the fruit, and even
sometimes quiet the voice of the little
brook, found Gold Beauty out and put her
fateful spell upon her. Then began such
a time of woe that it is a wonder that poor
Gold Beauty ever survived it; for while
she knew that the fairy had cast the spell
upon her, she was quite powerless to undo
it, and could only go on yielding more and
more to her wicked charm. This produced
such mental anguish that one would have
thought the fairy would have had some
pity. But she only kept on her cruel work
until she had her victim firmly sealed up in
one of those gray towers, and no one knows
what other mischief she might not have
done had not her power ceased there.
But even this hard-hearted fairy could do
no more than confine her in the tower
and leave her there, for there her power
ceased.

Poor Gold Beauty! behold her now,
stripped of the beautiful green robe with

its golden spots, and clothed in a shapeless
garment of dingy gray. Shut out from
the old garden with its sunlight and fra-
grance, and confined in a gloomy prison
whose thick walls no ray of light might
pierce.

All her bright companions still wandered
free and happy through the fair summer
days, the flowers still smiled in beauty, and
the little brook still sang its careless song,
but she saw nothing, heard nothing of all
the glad life around her. Ah! who would
not pity Gold Beauty now?

And still she did not hear when Summer
gathered all her gay children in her arms
and bade the old garden farewell; when
Autumn came with her gold and sunset
treasures and scattered largess over the
land, or when Winter sent his frosts and
snow and covered the earth with dazzling
beauty. Very dark days were those for
Gold Beauty.

But the wicked fairy could not have her
own way forever, although she kept Gold
Beauty in her prison for many weary
months. For one day a beautful spirit
came flying into the garden, and went tra-
veling around to see what the wicked fairy
had been about, for she knew her very
well, and did not doubt she had been up to
some mischief.

How indignant the spirit became as she
flew from one gray tower to another, and
found each one occupied by some poor
prisoner. Her first thought was to set
them free, and she would have liked noth-
ing better than to bring an army of her
soldiers and tear all the gray towers down
at once.

But this she could not do, for as the
wicked fairy had used magic to confine the
prisoners, the spirit must also use magic to
set them free, and she set about this so
cleverly that no one suspected what she
was about until the poor captives were
nearly all delivered.

She began with those who had been con-

Gold Beauty.

129

fined the longest, and this soon brought
her to Gold Beauty, who lay despairing in
her gloomy cell all unconscious that free-
dom was so near at hand.

But one day, while brooding over her
woes, she suddenly felt that the whole world
was full of wonderful music; this was the
magic song of the beautiful spirit that had
penetrated her darkened prison house, and
already begun its work of deliverance.

For, as Gold Beauty listened, it seemed
to her that the song was calling her out-
side, and wooing her to hope again with a
powerful but delicious charm. She lis-
tened in rapture, for the music seemed filled
with sweet remembrances of her former
happy life. Again she heard the robins'
notes up among the apple boughs, and
again she saw the flash of bright wings in
the air, while she felt the summer wind
once more laden with the perfume of
violets.

Her heart filled with wild longing to be
free and she struggled to break the chains
that she had wound herself in while under
the wicked fairy's spell.

And still the song went on calling her
to sunshine and freedom in the glad world
outside.

Gold Beauty never knew how it came
about, but suddenly her whole body was
filled with wonderful strength, and her
heart endowed with such courage, that she
felt she could accomplish anything. One
by one she broke her chains, and slowly
and with much toil made an opening in the
gray wall of her prison. Each new move-
ment toward freedom brought greater
hope, and, as she worked, the magic song
grew louder and sweeter, until it seemed
that there was nothing but music every-
where.

At last the gray wall gave way, and the
poor capcive once more crept out into the

bright sunlight, and then the song died
softly away until it seemed only like the
faint trilling of a far off bird, and the
beautiful spirit flew away with a happy
smile to carry deliverance to some prisoner
in another sealed tower.

Gold Beauty lay quiet for a long time
after she came out of her prison, for she
felt quite worn out with her unusual exer-
tion, but at last the fresh air, and the bright
sun, and the sense of freedom made her
feel like moving about and visiting some
of her former haunts.

And then oh, joy of joys! what did she
find out? That the spirit had not only been
the means of her deliverance, but that she
had also given her wings. And such
wings! Golden as the sun, and marked
with spots of velvety black.

Gold Beauty lifted them up and down
softly, and then spread them with delight.
Large wings they were too, and strong,
and she knew they would bear her through
many a dizzy flight; and, as she tried their
power for the first time she discovered
something else that gave her pleasure, for
she found that she was a low-flyer instead
of a high-flyer, and this is just what she
would have wished had she been given her
choice.

And so all things turned out well at last
for Gold Beauty, and in the joy of her new
existence she almost forgot that she had
ever been a creeper or confined in a gloomy
prison.

Gaily she flew from place to place dis-
covering such fresh beauties everywhere
that the old garden seemed like a new
world — not more beautiful, but different;
and filled with an ever deepening charm
of which she herself was a part, together
with the songs and the flowers, and all the
fair things that contributed to render the
garden an earthly paradise.

Henrietta Christian Wright.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The month of May closed with a total registered
number of 46,484, showing an increase during the
month of 833 members, drawn from the following
sources:

New York 190 Kentucky 2

Massachusetts 178 Colorado i

Pennsylvania 58 Missouri 6

New Jersey 49 California 13

Connecticut 58 Kansas 15

Maine 20 Georgia i

Rhode Island i North Carolina 31

Indiana 13 Delaware 36

Ohio 9 Tennessee 4

Washington Territorj' 3 Alabama 2

Minnesota 16 Canada 132

New Mexico i

8^3
C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

BIRDS ON THE INCREASE.

From a great number of sources we have received
the very gratifying intelligence that birds are per-
ceptibly on the increase this year, and the daily press
has recorded similar observations, some of their
correspondents ingeniously attributing the increase
to the mortality among the sparrows during the
severe snow storm last March. Unfortunately for
this argument the sparrows don't kill birds; the
most that is charged against them in this direction
is that they disturb and drive away nesting birds and
destroy their eggs. All this might affect the num-
ber of young birds of the season, but the subject for
congratulation is the number of birds that came
back from the south to build, and the sparrows had
nothing to do with affecting these returns. There
is no need to go so far afield in search of a cause
when an adequate one is at hand in the restraining
influence of the Audubon Society.

THE POET'S APPEAL.

We never have had a poet's corner in the Audu-
bon Magazine, in fact, as is well known to our
contributors, we have religiously and firmly ex-
cluded all metrical productions from its columns.
In this determination we have of course been ani-
mated by the very best of motives, but there are mo-
ments when we have been brought face to face with
the question, "Is this want of faith in the inspiring
influence of poetry the result of superior insight or
of some deficiency in your own spiritual natures?"

Modesty and integrity alike urge to an impartial
decision, and even at the risk of proving ourselves
wrong, we are determined to avail ourselves of an

opportunity that now offers itself for putting the
matter to the test. Can poetry inspire to generous
action ? That is the problem we have determined
to solve, and the conditions are eminently favorable
to a right decision. Month after month have we ap-
pealed to our readers in the most earnest prose
language at our command to contribute to the erec-
tion of the Audubon Monument, and our appeal
has for the most part passed unheeded by, but the
poet Isaac McLellan put his pen to paper in good
flowing rhyme in behalf of the monument, and un-
der the influence of the stimulus put his other hand
into his pocket and sent us liberal largess. Is it
not then possible that others may be similarly moved
by his poetic appeal ? That is precisely the prob-
lem for solution, and one which we have determined
to solve by publishing it, being willing to be proved
wrong for the sake of truth and the money which
will have to be put in evidence.

THE "MAGAZINE" AS AN EDUCATOR.

Editor Audubon Magazine:

Will you please thank Miss Florence A. Merriam
for me for her "Fifty Common Birds"? I have
learned so much this spring, with her help, about
the birds. Last year, if any one had asked me what
kinds of birds we have in our neighborhood, I should
probably have answered, "Oh, robins and catbirds
and sparrows." Of course, I knew there were more
than those I have just named, but I never knew how
many more until I saw them through my opera
glasses. Just see my record for the past month. I
have italicized the names of those I never saw before
this spring.

April 6 — Yellow-shafted flicker.

April 14 — Chippy, kinglet and a pair of juncos.

April iS — Song sparrow, tvhite-throated sparrow
and a wood thrush.

April 28 — Robin building in the honeysuckle on
our side porch. Saw the chimney swifts to-day, first
time this year.

May I — Pair of Baltimore orioles.

May 2 — Meadotvlark, black and -white creeper,
black-throated blue ivarbler and a chciuink.

May 5 — Chewinkortowhee, catbird (first time this
year) brown thrush, belted kingfisher, Baltimore
oriole and a white-throated sparrow.

So you see I owe a great deal to Miss Merriam,
for it was from her descriptions that I found out the
names of my feathered friends. E. B. B.

Germantown, Pa.

THE AUDUBON MONUMENT.

AH, noble Audubon, who lov'd so well
Thro' Nature's loveliest, loneliest woods to
tread,
To paint with matchless brush and loving heart.
The birds of song thro' her dominions spread;
To track with patient toil the forest glades,
A wanderer lone in wildernesses drear.
Toiling o'er Northern mount and Southern plain.
Unwearied with thy task thro' all the year.
Dear to us all is thy illustrious fame.
Deep in our hearts we consecrate thy name!

'Mid solemn silence or the sylvan sounds
Of woods primeval, thou did'st love to rove.
Noting all bird-life of those leafy shades.
Rejoicing in their joys, their songs of love.
The birds that skimm'd the empty fields of air.
The birds that thro' the sombre forests sped.
The flocks that o'er the boundless prairies flew,
The sea-fowl o'er the salty lagoons spread.

Were all familiar in each tone and hue,

Each gorgeous plumage, each melodious note.

Each hovering wing that o'er your head would

- float;
Sweet then the task the master's hand to trace
Each grace, each glory of the feathered race!

Then let us raise a fair, memorial shaft,

Sculptur'd with birds of every race and clime,

Grac'd with thy lineaments, thy honor'd name,

Memorial of our love thro' future time.

Let it arise where first the glow of day

Around its shapely pinnacle may fall.

And sunset's rosy colors shall suffuse

The graven name so precious to us all.

There then the birds you lov'd their songs shall

pour,
Delicious harmonies of wood and vale,
Where royal eagle shall above ye soar
And evening whippoorwill sound mournful wail.
IS.A.AC McLellan.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass., [
2nd mo., 20, 18S6. J

Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed AuDUBON So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 18S6.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this " slaughter of the in-
nocents " that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher,

Cornwall-on-Hudson, N. Y., \
Feb. 22, 1886. \

Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society^ Yery sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 5gTH Street, \
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. j
Editor Forest and Stream :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE PILEATED WOODPECKER,

( Ci'ophlceus pilcattis (Linn.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

AUGUST, i8SS.

No. 7.

THE PILEATED WOODPECKER.

MOST of our readers are familiar with
the smaller woodpeckers, so com-
mon in our forests and orchards, but per-
haps few of them have ever seen the great
bird which we figure this month. The
Pileated Woodpecker, or, as it is sometimes
called by the farmer, the Woodcock or Log-
cock, is as large as a pigeon. It is found
in more or less abundance over the whole
of North America, wherever heavy timber
grows, and yet it is nowhere abundant.
One bird, or perhaps one family of birds,
occupies a large territory, and even though
one may be traveling all day through the
forest, he will not be likely to see more
than one or two Pileated Woodpeckers.
As the woods are cleared away before the
advance of civilization, these birds with-
draw also, for they are shy and solitary in
habit, and are not contented save in the
deepest recesses of the loneliest forest
aisles. We have found this species more
abundant in Washington Territory than
we remember to have seen it elsewhere.
Not only is this species fond of the deep
forests, but he is a very shy bird as well.
He doesn't like to have any one get too
near him, and watches with his keen eye
the movements of any strange object. We
have more often obtained a close view of this
bird by his flying to and alighting near us
when we were sitting still and entirely ignor-
ant that he was in the neighborhood, than by
endeavoring to approach him. His eyes

and ears are both quick, and are constantly
on the alert, and usually, no matter how
carefully the approach may be made, it will
be found that the bird is fully aware of
what is taking place, and as soon as he has
satisfied himself that he is the object of
these stealthy movements, he is off with a
loud cackling cry, and has soon put half a
mile of distance between the suspected
person and himself.

In those localities which suit his tastes,
the Pileated Woodpecker is resident the
year round. Cold weather has no terrors
for him, and he seeks his living just as un-
concernedly amid whirling snows and in
biting frosts, as during the gentle rains of
April or under the torrid sun of August.

In the early spring, these Woodpeckers
mate, and begin to prepare a nesting place.
They choose some great tree deep in the
forest, and attack it with their stout sharp
bills, boring in it a hole from two and one-
half to three inches in diameter at the
mouth and sometimes eighteen inches deep.
At the bottom the cavity is somewhat larger
than at the entrance, being five or six inches
in diameter. Here, on a bed of chips left
for a lining to the nest, five or six eggs are
deposited, pure white, shining and glossy
like porcelain. These eggs are about as
large as those of a common pigeon. Both
male and female take part in the labor of
hatching, and each brings food at frequent
intervals to its mate on the nest. After the

136

The Pileated Woodpecker-.

young have attained a part of their growth,
they often clamber to the mouth of the hole
and may be seen looking out.

Even before they have left the nest the
young seem to share the wildness of their
parents. Mr. Bachman, writing of some
that he took from a nest when very young
and tried to rear in confinement, says:
" They were sullen and cross, nay, three
died in a few days, but the others having
been fed on grasshoppers forcibly intro-
duced into their mouths, were raised. In
a short time they began picking up the
grasshoppers thrown into their cage, and
were fully fed with corn meal, which they
preferred eating dry. Their whole em-
ployment consisted in attempting to escape
from their prison, regularly demolishing
one every two days, although made of pine
boards of tolerable thickness. I at last
had one constructed with oak boards at the
back and sides, and rails of the same in
front. This was too much for them, and
their only comfort was in passing and hold-
ing their bills through the hard bars. In
the morning after receiving water, which
they drank freely, they invariably upset the
cup or saucer, and although this was large
and flatfish, they regularly turned it quite
over. After this they attacked the trough
which contained their food and soon broke
it to pieces, and when perchance I hap-
pened to approach them with my hand,
they made passes at it with their powerful
bills with great force. I kept them in this
manner until winter. They were at all
times uncleanly and unsociable birds. On
opening the door of my study one morning
one of them dashed off by me, alighted on
an apple tree near the house, climbed some
distance, and kept watching me from one
side and then the other, as if to ask what
my intentions were. I walked into my
study; the other was hammering at my
books. They had broken one of the bars
of the cage and must have been at liberty
for some hours judging by the mischief

they had done. Fatigued of my pets I
opened the door, and this last one hearing
the voice of his brother, flew toward him
and alighted on the same tree. They re-
mained about half an hour, as if consult-
ing each other, after which, taking to their
wings together, they flew off in a southern
direction, and with much more ease than
could have been expected from birds so
long kept in captivity."

The food of this species consists very
largely of insects of various kinds, which
it digs out with its powerful bill from their
lurking places in the dead wood or beneath
the bark of trees. It also eats fruit of all
kinds, chestnuts, acorns and Indian corn.
It is charged that it also destroys the ears
of corn while yet in the milk, but there can
be no doubt that its services to man in the
destruction of noxious insects far outweigh
any slight depredations which it may make
on the crops. It is valueless for food, and is
never killed except in pure wantonness, or
by ornithologists.

The Pileated Woodpecker is eighteen
inches in length, and measures twenty-eight
across its extended wings. Its general color
is deep glossy black in the male, but dull and
smoky in the female and young. The
whole upper part of the head is a bright
carmine red. A broad band of black runs
through the eye, becoming narrow on the
forehead. There is a narrow line of white
between this band of black and the red of
the upper head. Throat white. Another
band, yellowish at the base of the bill, and
then changing to white, runs down through
the cheek meeting the white of throat, and
continues alongside of neck to the sides
under the wing. Another broad band of
red runs back from base of lower mandible.
Under side of wing more or less white.
The legs and feet are blue. Iris yellow.
The female differs but little from the male,
but has the band running back from the
lower mandible, which is red in the male,
o^rayish brown in color.

ALEXANDER WILSON.

WILSON arrived in Philadelphia in
1794, and his first experiences of
America were thoroughly disappointing.
No employment coidd be secured at weav-
ing, and although he took any work he
could get, he found it very hard to make
a living.

In the course of the next four years he
tried his hands at many things, became a
pedlar again, and was fairly success-
ful, and was in turn copper-plate engraver,
pedlar, schoolmaster, wandering a great
deal, and in allhis wanderings studying the
habits of man and beast and bird, as far as
he had opportunity, keeping a diary of his
observations. As schoolmaster he used
all his opportunities for self-instruction,
and advanced considerably in mathematics,
so that he was enabled to take up survey-
ing, and add to his income by practicing
it out of school hours.

But he drifted away from Philadelphia
through New Jersey, and in 1801 we find
him keeping school in Bloomfield, which he
describes as " a settlement of canting,
preaching and praying, and snivelling, ig-
norant Presbyterians, who pay their minis-
ter twelve hundred and fifty dollars a year
for preaching twice a week, and their
teacher forty dollars a quarter for the
most spirit-sinking laborious work."

His bright dreams had become clouded,
and he was meditating the possibility of re-
turning to old Scotia, when he obtained a
better appointment as schoolmaster on the
Schuylkill, near Gray's Ferry, about four
miles from Philadelphia.

In the first letter he wrote to his parents,
after landing in America, he made mention
of the birds, whose rich coloring had struck
him as in strong contrast to the more
sober plumage of birds of the old country,
and in all his subsequent wandering he had
made such notes of those he saw, as would

suggest themselves to a novice; but settled
in his appointment on the Schuylkill, he
soon made the acquaintance of his near
neighbor, the venerable Bartram, a dis-
tinguished naturalist, who had a charming
place on the western bank of the Schuyl-
kill, known as"Bartram's botanical gar-
den."

In this charming place, with his condi-
tion in life improved, and enjoying the
daily intimacy of a man of Bartram's cul-
ture, life presented itself from quite a new
and more cheerful aspect. He saw the
amusement of his leisure subjected to
order, and his newly-found friend, a mas-
ter of the science, which he was both quali-
fied to teach, and ready to impart to one
who, like Wilson, felt a greater charm
in the contemplation and study of nature
than in the pursuits of men.

Mr. Bartram induced him to take up
drawing, but his first attempts at landscape
and the human figure discouraged him;
however, he was prevailed on to make a
second attempt on birds and other objects
of natural history, and this time he suc-
ceeded altogether beyond his anticipations.
But the duties of his profession appear to
have occupied the whole day, his drawing
was mostly done by candlelight, and that,
he complained entailed the sacrifice of the
pleasures of social life.

He consequently did not apply himself
to this new study very assiduously; never-
theless he began to acquire proficiency,
and, having an ambitious turn of mind, he
compared his drawings with those in such
works of natural history as he could get
hold of, and the idea of illustrating the
ornithology of the United States presented
itself to him as a task he was capable of
achieving.

Long and earnestly he pondered over the
subject before he had sufficient confidence

138

Alexander' JVilsoji.

to make it known to his friend, but at
length the venerable Bartram was con-
sulted, and to Wilson's delight and en-
couragement he not only entered warmly
into the plan as tending to advance the
study of natural history, but he freely ex-
pressed his confidence in Wilson's abilities
and acquirements.

The scheme was now unfolded to Law-
son, the engraver, with whom Wilson was
on terms of intimacy, and met his appro-
bation, but his calculations were a terrible
damper on Wilspn's sanguine anticipations,
so much so, that there was a temporary
coolness between them, but a little later
Wilson wrote to him saying that he was bent
on making a collection of all the birds in
that part of North America, and begging
him not to throw cold water on the seem-
ingly Quixotic scheme. " I have," he
wrote, "been so long accustomed to the
building of airy castles, and brain wind-
mills, that it has become one of my earthly
comforts — a sort of rough bone — that
amuses me when sated with the dull
drudgery of life."

No plans were immediately matured as
the result of this correspondence, but Wil-
son found heartof grace and began making
a collection of birds in his neighborhood,
and improving his talents as a draughts-
man. His own sanguine temperament
could not entertain the possibility of fail-
ure, but Mr. Lawson forced his attention to
the many practical difificulties, and Wilson
saw the expediency of going slowly, and
making such progress as he could in his
leisure, while still holding on to his school
appointment as a means of subsistence.

This brings us down to 1804, at which
period Wilson was so much immersed in
his new pursuits that the schoolboys sought
to win their way to his good graces by pres-
ents of dead crows, bullfrogs, and other
similarly rare creatures. Writing to Mr.
Bartram under date of March 31, 1S04, he
observes:

" I sometimes smile to think that while
others are immersed in deep schemes of
speculation and aggrandizement, in build-
ing towns and purchasing plantations, I
am entranced in contemplation over the
plumage of a lark, or gazing like a des-
pairing lover on the lineaments of an owl.
While others are hoarding up their bags of
money without the power of enjoying it, I
am collecting, without injuring my con-
science or wounding my peace of mind,
those beautiful specimens of Nature's
works that are forever pleasing. I have
had live crows, hawks and owls; oppos-
sums, squirrels, snakes, lizards, etc., so that
my room has sometimes reminded me of
Noah's ark; but Noah had a wife in one
corner of it, and in this particular our par-
allel does not altogether tally. I receive
every subject of natural history which is
brought to me, and although they do not
march into my ark from all quarters, as
they did into that of our great ancestor,
yet I find means by the distribution of a
few five-penny bits to make them find the
way fast enough. One of my boys caught
a mouse in school a few days ago, and di-
rectly marched up to me with his prisoner.
I set about drawing it that same evening,
and all the while the panting of its little
heart showed it to be in the most extreme
agonies of fear. I had intended to kill it
in order to fix it in the claws of a stuffed
owl; but happening to spill a few drops of
water near where it was tied, it lapped it
up with such eagerness, and looked in my
eye with such a face of supplicating terror
as perfectly overcame me. I immediately
untied it, and restored it to life and liberty.
The agonies of a prisoner at the stake,
while the fire and instruments of torture
are preparing, could not be more severe
than the sufferings of that poor mouse,
and, insignificant as the object was, I felt
at that moment the sweet sensations that
mercy leaves when she triumphs over
crueltv."

INTERESTING BIRDS

AN interesting bird, called the Japim,
a species of Cassicus, is found in
the neighborhood of Para, Brazil. It be-
longs to the same family of birds as the
starling, magpie, and rook, and has a rich
yellow and black plumage, remarkably com-
pact and velvety in texture. The shape of
its head, and its physiognomy are very
similar to that of the magpie ; it has bright
gray eyes, which give to it the same know-
ing expression. It is social in its habits,
and builds its nest like the English rook,
on trees in the neighborhood of man's habi-
tations, but the nests are quite differently
constructed, being shaped like purses, two-
feet in length, and suspended from the
slender branches all round the tree, some
of them very near the ground. The en-
trance is on the side near the bottom of
the nest. The bird is a great favorite with
the Brazilians of Para ; it is a noisy, stir-
ring, babbling creature, passing constantly
to and fro, chattering to its comrades, and
is very ready at imitating other birds, es-
pecially the domestic poultry of the vicin-
ity. There was at one time a weekly news-
paper published at Para, called The Japim;
the name being chosen on account of the
babbling propensities of the bird. Its eggs
are nearly round, and of a bluish-white
color, speckled with brown.

The lower branches of the mangrove
bushes, especially along the banks of the
Magoary river, are frequented by the beau-
tiful bird, " Ardea helias." This is a small
heron, of exquisitely graceful shape and
mien; its plumage is minutely variegated
with bars and spots of a great many col-
ors, like the wings of certain kinds of
moths. It is difficult to see the bird in
the woods, on account of its sombre colors

and the shadiness of its dwelling-places,
but its note, a soft long-drawn whistle,
often betrays its hiding-place. The Indi-
ans say that it builds in trees, and that the
nest, which is made of clay, is beautifully
constructed. It is a favorite pet bird of
the Brazilians, who call it Pavao (pro-
nounced pavaong), or peacock. It soon
becomes tame, and walks about the floors
of houses, picking up scraps of food, or
catching insects, which it secures by walk-
ing gently to the place where they settle,
and spearing them with its long slender
beak. It allows itself to be handled by
children, and will answer to its name
" Pavao ! Pavao ! " walking up with a
dainty, circumspect gait, and taking a fly
or beetle from the hand.

Among nocturnal birds of Brazil the
goat-suckers attract our attention. As
soon as it is dark, swarms of these birds
suddenly make their appearance, wheeling
about in a noiseless, ghostly manner, in
chase of night-flying insects. They some-
times descend and settle on a low branch,
or even on the pathway close to where one
is walking, and then, squatting down on
their heels, are difficult to distinguish from
the surrounding soil. One kind has a long
forked tail. In the day time they are con-
cealed in the wooded hills, where the
hunter sometimes sees them crouched, and
sleeping on the ground in the dense shade.
They make no nest, but lay their eggs on
the bare ground. Later in the evening,
the singular notes of the goat-suckers are
heard, one species crying Qiiao, Qiiao,
another Chuck-co-cao, and these are re-
peated at intervals far into the night in the
most monotonous manner.

G. B. G.

BIRDS OF THE PRIMEVAL WORLD.

AS I said before, there were two very dif-
ferent types of bird in those days, the
divers and the flyers, and of course you want
to know
their
names,
but as
Professor

Marsh, their godfather, gave
them the most learned names he
could think of, they are rather
hard to remember. The divers
are called Hesperoniis, and the
high-flyers Icthyoniis, and, if you
know Greek, you will easily guess
what the names mean. You see
they are both called ornis, and
oriiis simply means a bird; hesper
means western, and icthy means
like a fish, so Hesperoniis means
the bird of the west; but to en-
able you to understand why they
called the other Ictkyomis, it must be
explained that it was not because it
caught fish, but because it had back
bones like a fish. If you have ever
broken a fish's backbone you will have
noticed that it is made of a lot of small
bones, each of which is shaped like a cup
at both ends, but if
you break the back-
bone of a bird or a
hare, you will see that
the several bones fit
into each other by
quite a different ar-
rangement. Now when you see a bird with
a fish's backbone and a lizard's jaws, you
must admit that you have a missing link that
agrees very well with the theory that birds
did not start into life suddenly, but were
the descendants of a long line of ancestry
which differ more and more from them as

you go further and further back in the
family records.

The Hesperoniis (you will remember that
that is the western bird) was a big bird
something like the great auk or the
penguin, only it had absolutely no
wings at all. Of course they went
ashore on the rocks to lay their eggs
and hatch their young, and as there
were no seals nor sea lions in those
days they had it all to themselves, but
the greater part of their time was
spent in the water. Their legs were
long and very strong, and
when stretched out in div-
ing, the bird was about six
feet long. The skull was
narrow like a lizard's, and
they hadn't more than half
as much brain as a loon, or
any other liv-
ing bird of
their own size.
^V h a t e V e r
changes living
creatures have
gone through
since the
world began,
the highest
types of every
age have more
brains than
the highest
types of ear-
lier ages. The
head and jaw was about ten niches long; the
lower jaw was armed with sharp pointed
teeth over its whole length; the upper jaw
had teeth too, but not in front. These teeth
were not set in sockets like a horse's or a
dog's, but in grooves like a reptile's, but the
backbone was a genuine bird's. Like the

SKELETON OF HESPERORNIS RESTORED, }i NATURAL SIZE.

Birds of the Priuicz'al World.

141

ostriches and other birds that are not made
for flying, there was no keel on the breast-
bone.

While our friend the Hespcrornis was div-
ing after his dinner like a dart and making
things lively among the smaller fishes, the
Icthyornis sailed overhead on tireless wing,
pouncing
down oc-
casionally
on any
little fish
that ven-
tured near the sur-
face. The Icthyor-
nis was compara-
tively a small bird.
Two species have
been discovered,
one about the size
of a plover, and the
other nearly the size
of an ibis or curlew.
These birds had
quite slender legs,
like most of the
shore birds and
waders nowadays,
and long powerful
wings, and of course
they had a keel on
the breastbone, as
that is necessary for
the powerful mus- ^.^^^s
cles which keep the ^- ^_^_ ^
wings ni motion. ^^i0i^^^^m^0Sff

They had sharp ^^^'^-^'^sfe^^^'" "

teeth which curved
back a little toward
the throat, so that a fish had not much
chance of breaking loose after the jaws
once snapped on him, but although the
Icthyornis had the marks of humble origin
in its backbone, it had quite an aristocratic
set of teeth, for each tooth was firmly set
in its own socket.

A still more remarkable fossil bird called

SKELETON OF ICHTHYORNIS RESTORED

the Archicoptcryx has been discovered in
Europe in a little earlier page of the earth's
history. First the impression of a feather
was found in the rock, recording as plainly
as possible that the bird was there when the
rock was soft mud. After a while a very
complete specimen was discovered, and
wonderful to tell,
it had a long tail
like a lizard, and
the feathers grow-
ing on either side
of it. T\\&Archcc-
opteryx was a land
bird and had feet
like a perching
bird, and the body
was covered with
true feathers, but
in other respects
it was more like a
izard with its
ong tail and
toothed jaws.
The wings were
not very long,
and it is possi-
ble that it could
not fly upward,
but only like the
flying squirrels on
a downward in-
cline, and as the
fingers of its
wings were free
from each other
and armed with
sharp claws, it
must have been
a good climber. And so we must admit
that whatever may be thought of Darwin's
theory of evolution, there is at any rate not
a great dividing line which separates the
reptiles from the birds, and that in this
case the missing links are really just what
Darwin foretold — creatures midway be-
tween the birds and reptiles.

NATURAL SIZE

142

Charley s Woiiderfitl Joiir7ieys.

Perhaps the generally accepted theory the earth, this view is reconcilable with a
that change of life types from age to age great many of .the facts, and generally ac-
is due to accidental variation, or to the in- cepted by the learned. But some boys now

AKCir.^OPTERVX KKSTOKEt).

fluence of changing conditions, may not be :-t school may grow up like Newton to put
the correct one. Like the early theories of forward a view which will agree with all the
the astronomers that the sun moved round facts, and one which everybody will accept.

CHARLEY'S AVONDERFUL JOURNEYS

JOURN

THE old man was sitting down by the
edge of the lake leaning his back
against a rock, apparently lost in thought;
his eye fixed upon the reflection of the
moon's rays upon the water. The moon
was at her full, and slowly reaching the
horizon as if preparing to plunge into the
still waters of the lake, while from right
beneath the pale orb of night, a long path
of silvery light extended to the old man's
feet.

As soon as the old man heard Charley's
footsteps on the shingle he sprang to his
feet, his face brightening until it shone like
a second moon as he advanced to meet him.

" I have waited ten thousand years," he
said, " and kept the boat ready all the
time. I knew you would come at last.
Now jump in."

" But where am I to go?" said Charley.

"You just steer right along the moon-
beam's track," said the old man, "and you

EY IX.

will reach the other side at the same time
as the moon, and you have only to step
ashore. Take these two flower pots, give
one to the Man in the Moon, who is m}^
son-in-law, and the other to the Maid in
the Moon, who is my daughter, and tell
them I am waiting for a tribute of their af-
fection."

Charley jumped into the skiff as he was
told, laid the two flower pots by his side,
took the rudder, and glided away along
the moonbeam's track.

As he approached, the moon began to
grow bigger and bigger, and spread out on
both sides of him as far as he could see,
and when he came quite close he was on
the other side of the water, and it was all
moon.

Where he stepped ashore a broad road-
way came right down to the water's edge;
walls of solid rock bounded it on either
side, making it look like a canal cut out of

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

^M>

the solid rock. " You can never lose your
way in a road like this," thought Charle}^
"and it must go somewhere."

He walked on and on a long, long way,
and at last he came to the end, and there
was an old man sitting down with a great
lump of green cheese in each hand, and
first he took a bite off one piece, and then
off the other, and kept munching away all
the time, without looking to the right or
left.

At last he heard Charley's footstep, and
turned round very angrily and tried to
speak, but he couldn't at first his mouth
was so full, but after he had cleared his
mouth a little he spluttered out, " What do
you want here? Go away."

Immediately he had spoken he thrust
the last lump of green cheese into his
mouth, and broke off a fresh piece from
the ground in front of him.

" I am come from your father-in-law,"
said Charley, who sent me with this flower
pot for a tribute of your affection."

" Wants some of my green cheese I dare
say," said the old man as soon as he had
cleared his mouth enough to speak. " He
won't get any, though— I ain't his son-in-
law — never married the Maid in the Moon —
ain t such a fool — she'd have eaten more
green cheese than I could — have eaten me
out of house and home by this time — ain't
such a fool, you bet."

He did not say all this at once, because
he was eating away all the time, and break-
ing off fresh pieces from the road. When
he got his mouth nearly empty he would
say a few words, and then take a fresh
bite, and munch away at that before he
spoke again. He always spoke with his
mouth full, and Charley thought it very
rude, of course, but he did not like to say
anything.

Charley sat still for some time, the old
man munching away, and eyeing him all
the while. Several times when his mouth
was nearly empty he opened it wide and

was going to speak, but habit was too
strong for him, and before he could get
out a word he always put up his hand and
bit off another piece of cheese. But he
did not like to have Charley sitting there,
and kept eyeing him suspiciously all the
time. At last he cleared his mouth enough
to say, " What are you waiting for ? Why
don't you go?"

" I was waiting till you had done dinner,"
said Charley, "that I might talk to you."

"Done dinner!" said the old man as
soon as he could, "What's that ? "

"I mean," said Charley, "that I was
waiting for you to finish eating."

"Finish eating! " exclaimed the old man,
almost choking with rage and anxiety and
green cheese all mingled: "Why should I
finish eating? I suppose you want to begin
eating, but I won't let you."

"I ? Oh! no," said Charley, "I don't like
green cheese."

" Don't you? " said the old man, shaking
his head. " I wouldn't trust you. Now go
away. The Maid in the Moon wanted to
eat my green cheese. Drove her away."

" But isn't all the moon made of green
cheese? " queried Charley.

" 'Tisn't true," said the old man. " It's
only in this line, and I found it, and I
won't let anybody have any."

" But what will you do when it's all
eaten? "

"All eaten!" exclaimed the old man,
with horror on his countenance, "All eaten!"

"Why, yes," said Charley. "You've
eaten out all the road from the beginning
until now, and if you go on eating you
must come to the end some time. But
what's the good of always eating — you
can't be always hungry?"

" But I am always hungry," said the old
man, with his mouthful as usual, "eating
always makes me hungry," and again he
bit off great mouthfuls to make up for lost
time. All the time he kept eyeing Charley
very suspiciously.

144

Charley s WoiidcTfjil Journeys.

" Why don't you go away? " said he at
length. " I don't want you to come here
and say the green cheese must come to an
end— I don't Hke it. Why don't you go
and look for the Maid in the Moon ? Go
away."

"I suppose," said Charley, "she's at the
other end of the green cheese, eating this
way."

"What's that?" said the old man with
such a start that he gulped down his mouth-
ful, and fairly stopped eating. "I haven't
seen the Maid of the Moon since the be-
ginning, and do you say she's been at the
other end of the green cheese, eating this
way all the time ? " With that he thrust an-
other lump of cheese into his mouth, and
began munching savagely, and looking
down the canal as if to estimate how much
green cheese the Maid of the Moon might
possibly have eaten.

"If you like the green cheese so much
why don't you see how far it goes? "

" You want me to go away that you may
stay here and eat green cheese," said he,
suspiciously, "but I won't go."

" I don't want to eat your green cheese,"
said Charley. "I'll go with you; perhaps
we shall find the Maid in the Moon."

" Come along then," said the old man ex-
citedly, climbing up out of the canal to the
high ground. As soon as he was up he
broke off a huge mass of green cheese
from the vein, and began munching again.

Charley climbed up, too, and there, not
fifty yards in front of him, the hard rock
rose straight up in front of the green
cheese vein.

"Why, there is the end of the green
cheese," said Charley, pointing to the rock,
" It doesn't go any further than that."

The man stuffed a fresh piece of green
cheese in his mouth, broke off another
piece, and ran over to the rocky ridge and
examined it, but it was hard rock. Then
he tried right and left to see if the green
cheese vein had perhaps changed its course,

but it was all rock — hard rock. Then he
tried to get behind the ridge, but there,
too, was nothing but rock to be seen.
A few more years and all his green cheese
would be finished, and what would he do
then?

As the truth gradually dawned upon him
his agony was something dreadful to wit-
ness; the green cheese stuck in his throat,
he gulped it down, raised another piece to
his mouth, but his feelings were too much
for him — he dropped the green cheese to
the ground, put his hands to his face, and
burst into a passionate fit of wailing and
weeping.

Charley thought this was a good time to
go in quest of the Maid in the Moon, and
away he started.

On he went over hill and dale, but there
was nothing but hard flinty rock anywhere;
not a tree, nor a plant, nor a blade of grass,
not even a sign of green cheese, but after
he had gone a long way he suddenly
thought he detected the odor of roses and
jasmines. He stopped, sniffed in the air,
and found sure enough that it was laden
with rich perfumes. He seemed to be en-
tering another world, his step was elastic,
he threw up his head, his chest expanded,
his whole nature seemed to be lifted up,
in fact he felt like a totally different being,
and as he walked on eagerly he soon came
in sight of a beautiful garden, full of many-
hued flowers, exhaling the richest perfume.

As he drew nearer he saw the Maid of
the Moon flitting rapidly about the garden,
bending all the time over the flowers, but
what she was doing he could not make out.

He drew nearer and nearer, and at last
got almost close behind her without attract-
ing her attention, and then imagine his
astonishment to find that she was weeping
a perfect shower of tears — actually watering
the flowers with them.

She looked very young and nice; nobody
would ever have thought that she was ten
thousand years old, and Charley felt so

146

Charley s IJ'^ondcj^fiil JoiLrncys.

sorry for her that he was ahiKist ready to
cry, too. At length he said :

Maid of the Moon, why do you weep? I
have brought a flower pot and a message
for you from your father."

"Dear old man!" exclaimed she, look-
ing up with joyful surprise. She rained
tears all the same, but her smile was so
bright that her tears looked like many-
hued gems as they fell. " Dear old man! "
continued she; "let us come to the damask
roses. I must weep tears of joy."

Away they ran to another part of the
garden, at which the Maid of the Moon
was no sooner arrived than her tears burst
forth in a copious shower, and now Charley
noticed that as fast as her tears fell flower
buds appeared all over the bushes, and
grew and burst, until in a few minutes the
plot was one mass of brilliant colors, in
which the damask far exceeded the green.

" I always like to come here first when I
cry tears of joy, it gives the roses such
brilliant hues, and makes them exhale such
rich perfume, but now let us go to the car-
nations. Dear old father — Oh I'm so glad!"

" Do you never stop crying? " asked
Charley at length, for he began to think
that always crying must be almost as bad
as always eating; at least it was not bad, he
thought, but still he would not like to live
with people that were always crying.

"Why should I stop crying?" asked she
with surprise, and smiling gently on Char-
ley through her tears, "If I give vent to
my emotions of joy or sorrow my tears
make the flowers grow, which makes the
moon bright and beautiful. If I cry for
sorrow, my tears bring forth such beautiful
pure white flowers that piy heart is glad,
and then I cry for joy, and all the flowers
spring up as brilliant-hued as they do
now."

" But what makes you sorry? " asketl
Charley.

" In the beginning," she said, " when my
father sent me here to mferrv the Man in the

Moon I was sorry because he would not let
me live with him and eat green cheese, and
I wandered away here, and sat down, and
began to cry bitterly, and all the time I
cried the flowers sprang up wherever my
tears fell; pure white flowers with delicate
perfume; then my heart was glad, and I
began to cry for joy, and wherever these
tears fell the flowers sprang up brilliant-
hued. Then sometimes I felt sorry for the
Man in in the Moon that he should spend
all his time eating the horrid green cheese,
which never satisfied his appetite, but de-
prived him of all the pleasures of life, and
then when I've nothing else to be sorry for,
and shed nothing but tears of joy, all the
flowers become bright-colored, and I am
sorry to miss my white flowers, and again
I cry tears of sorrow. Thank Heaven
there is always something to be sorry for.
Don't earth children ever weep? "

"Yes," said Charley, "sometimes; if
they're hungry they cry for their supper."

" Do they? Oh how nice! so do I. I'm
getting hungry, too, and I am sure you
must be; let us go to the supper garden
and cry for supper."

So saying she took Charley's hand, and
led him off to a grove like a plantain grove,
and as soon as her tears began to fall the
fruit ripened; bananas, mangoes, custard
apples, bread fruit, and all sorts of nice
fruit, but to Charley's dismay she only
ripened one fruit at a time, and ate it as
fast as it ripened.

" There, that's enough," said she at
length, " let us go back to my flowers again.
I suppose you are not hungry?"

Charley thought it very unkind of her
that she did not give him any of the nice
fruit, and when at last she was going away
without even thinking of him he could
stand it no longer, but burst into tears.

At once the bananas began to ripen, and
when Charley looked up again there was a
rich, ripe bunch close to his head, and he
took the delicious fruit and ate it with ap-

Chai'leys Woiide^^fiil Journeys.

147

petite, but when he wanted some custard
apples he could not cry any more, and had
to go away, although his heart was full
almost to bursting.

"Never mind," said the Maid of the
Moon, " it's no good to eat for the mere
pleasure of eating; when you are really
hungry you can always cry for your supper."

" I wonder," said Charley, " whether it
made the green cheese grow again when
the Man in the Moon began crying? "

" What?" said the Maid in the Moon in a
tone of excitement which showed itself in
the brilliant flame-colored flowers that
sprang up at her feet; " Is the Man in the
Moon crying? Are you sure? Is the green
cheese all finished? "

"It isn't quite finished," said Charley," but
when the Man in the Moon got out of the
ditch, and saw that there was an end of the
green cheese he sat down and began to
cry."

"And did he stop eating that horrid
green cheese? Oh, do tell me all about it!
and how he came to get up out of the
ditch "

Then Charley told her everything that
had passed between him and the Man in
the Moon, and how he left him crying bit-
terly.

" Oh, I'm so glad! " she exclaimed.
Those tears may be his redemption, if he
only cry until he has a healthy appetite,
and then cry for his supper, but perhaps
he is gone back to his horrid green cheese
again. I can wait no longer. Let us go
and see, for he is my betrothed, and when-
ever he is cured of his craving for the hor-
rid stuff that never satisfies, we shall be
wedded in tears of joy."

Then she took the two flower pots that
Charley had brought from her father, and
planted a rose bush in one, and a plantain
stalk in the other. She took the rose bush
herself, and soon made the air fragrant
with its perfume as she wept over it; the
plantain she gave to Charley that he might

cry for his supper if he got hungry. Then
they started to see how it was with the
Man in the Moon.

When they came in sight of the spot
where Charley left the old man crying they
could see that it was deserted, but there
was a thick clump of bushes with white
trumpet-shaped flowers, and they hastened
toward it, but as they approached they found
the odor of the flowers worse than that of
the green cheese, and tears of sorrow
rained from the eyes of the Maid in the
Moon, and fairly blanched the roses in the
pot she carried.

They crept over to the edge of the ditch,
and peeped in, and there was the old man
munching away the green cheese as fast
as he could, and looking ten times older
and more miserable than ever at the
thought that his green cheese would sooner
or later come to an end.

As soon as he saw Charley and the Maid
in the Moon his face grew green and hor-
rible with rage, for he thought they had
come to steal away some of his treasured
green cheese; so they made .haste to get
out of his way, leaving a pathway of white
flowers as they went.

At last Charley felt downright tired and
hungry, and sat down, and wept copiously
into the pot he carried. The fruit soon
ripened, and he ate, and felt refreshed, but
tired with his long journey.

" Now, earth child," said the Maid of the
Moon sadly, " take the two pots, and go to
my father, and tell him that my betrothed
still lives for the indulgence of his appetite,
but that the green cheese is nearly finished.
Then give him this rose bush, watered with
my tears, it will tell him all he wants to
know of me. The plantain tree you may
keep for yourself that you may always be
able to get your supper when you cry for it."

" But how shall I find the boat again?"
asked Charley.

"Oh, you needn't go back that way,"
said the Maid of the Moon; " It's much

148

Wrens in a Coffee Pot.

easier to slide down on a moonbeam. Here,
let me hold the pots while you get astride
of this one."

Charley handed her the plantain tree, and
got astride of the moonbeam, but directly
he mounted he began to slide down at a
rapid rate. The Maid of the Moon reached
out the pots to him, but Charley had to
hold on with both hands, and was already
out of reach. The Maid wept copiously as
usual, but you couldn't judge from that
how sorry she was as she stood there hold-
ing out the two pots, while Charley was
gliding down like a streak of greased light-
ning. Oh: what a delightful sensation it
was, but it came to an end at laSt. After
sliding so long that he never thought of
coming to the bottom, he suddenly came

kerllop on the ground, with a shock that
made him rebound like a rubber ball. This
awoke him. He was lying on the floor by
his bed. The moon was shining in at the
window, and the moonbeam just reached
to his feet.

He was soon asleep again, and when his
mother came to wake him she took up his
trousers, and noticed that the seam was
split.

"Oh! Charley," said she, ''why didn't
you tell me last night? "

" But it wasn't torn last night," said
Charley.

"Then, when did you tear it? " asked
his mother.

" I think I must have done it when I was
sliding down the moonbeam," said Charley.

C. F. Amery.

WRENS IN A COFFEE POT

SOME time ago two wrens entered my
cabin through some of the numerous
cracks, and set to work exploring it. I sat
still at my table watching them. Their be-
havior showed that they were hunting a
place to nest. They peeped into every
nook and corner, and finally left in a way
that seemed to show that they thought
they might be able to find better quarters
elsewhere. However, in half an hour they
returned and began their examinations as
before. This time they seemed to reach
the conclusion that my cabin would be a
desirable place, provided I would move out
of it. Having no intention to do this, but
wishing to do all I could to please the
little birds, I seized an old coffee pot and
hung it on a tree near my door, tying it
firmly so that the wind would not shake it.
In a little while the wrens discovered it
and entered it. It appeared to strike them
at once as a charming place, a veritable
palace, suitable as a residence of the most
exacting aristocrats. From their maneuvers

they evidently thought they had struck it
very rich, and blessed their stars for so
good fortune. I must confess that I too
felt quite a degree of pleasure in perceiving
how happy I had made my little visitors.
And yet it had all been done by fastening
an old worn-out coffee pot in a tree.

In a little while they were busy transport-
ing leaves into the coffee pot, the male
laboring as heartily as the female. This
shows that he perfectly understood what
was going to take place, and what duty
demanded of him as a little man. Next
day the nest was finished, and it was
curious to observe how soft and comfortable
they had made it. Inside they had lined
it thickly with bits of feathers, shreds of
wool, and downy substances picked from
the wild flowers; so that to the finger it
felt like rich velvet. The next day I found
a tiny egg in the nest, and another the day
following. After this I failed to count the
eggs; for when I looked again a few days
afterward the little dame was sitting, and I

Wrens in a Coffee Pot.

149

would not disturb her. The eggs are
white, sprinkled with little brown spots,
and they seemed to me very cute.

Now the capers of the little man began
to amuse me. Before this, so far as I had
known, he had been songless, but now I
was frequently called to my door to listen
to his singing. He would perch on a
branch just above the coffee pot, and pour
out strain after strain of most honeyed
sweetness, of such melody as no language
could give an idea of. He was singing to
his love to cheer her in her long and
tedious sitting, and that his strains warmed
and thrilled her little heart with drops
of the sweetest pleasure, permeating
every nerve of it, who can doubt? I do
not doubt that while she was drinking
these in, her little heart was almost burst-
ing with nuptial love, and with the convic-
tion that her little man was just the dar-
lingest love of a fellow in all the world.
After thus singing a while he would dart
away into the woods.

Only three or four days after the sitting
began I was surprised to see one of them
enter the coffee pot with a worm in his bill.
I thought it marvelous that their eggs
should hatch so soon. I waited until this
wren had flown away, and then went to the
nest expecting to see it full of their babies;
but instead, there sat the little dame. And
this shows that the thoughtful little man
was not only making music to cheer her
little heart, but was feeding her while she
sat, so that she should have no troubles or
cares while engaged in that business. I
watched him much afterward, and often
saw him bearing in his bill some choice bit
for her. I dare say whenever he found a
particularly choice morsel in the woods he
never ate it himself, but immediately hur-
ried off, with his heart full of happiness, to
bear it to his lady love. He is indeed a
model little husband, and she a most true
and affectionate little wife. What happi-
ness must reign in their household!

And now that their little ones have come,
I learn yet another way of this gallant and
faithful little fellow. Both now engage in
feeding their young; for I judge that the
little wife out of her loving heart thinks it
would be too hard a task for her little
man to feed the whole family without help
from her. Therefore she sets to work
equally with him, and between the two no
doubt the little ones are fed. They
usually start from the nest together, but it
seldom happens that they return together.
When the little man returns first, and has
delivered his offerings to the nestlings, he
jumps out on a branch and waits for his
mate. If she comes not very soon, he grows
impatient and calls for her very distmctly.
Her name by which he knows her seems to
be Titty-tee; for he calls out in a most
musical voice as loud as he can: " Tittv-
titty-tee^ ah, Titty-titty-tee! " and he repeats
this time after time till Titty-tee comes.
That he intends this as a call for her seems
certain, for he sings entirely differing notes
when she is present. Indeed, this musical
little lover has quite a multitude of songs,
and they are all exquisitely turned. His
mate does not sing, though I often hear
her answer him with a peculiar note when
he calls. When Titty-tee comes and has
presented her gifts to the little ones, they
hop about in the tree together a little
while, seeming to be greatly happy, and
then dart away into the woods for more
food. Can any one study the ways of
these sweet little creatures without loving
them? I judge not. And if he take not
care some drops of their sweetness may
perchance fall into his own heart, and help
to sweeten that, too. I have reason to
believe that the marriage of these little
birds is not for a season, but for life.

This is not the little brown wren I was
familiar with when a boy in North Carolina.
This one has a longer bill, crooked like
that of the curlew, and is much on the
order of that of the hummingbird. He

I50

A Trip to the Yosemite Valley.

"has also a longer tail. The brown wren of
the East is, I think, brown all over. This
one has a lead-colored breast and belly.
The other brown wren is a chubby little
fellow, and about as round as a bullet, and

not much bigger. The body of this one is
no bigger, but is longer. Their notes are
entirely different. I think this wren is
probably peculiar to western Texas and
Mexico. — N. A. T. in Forest and Stream.

A TRIP TO THE YOSEMITE VALLEY

I HAVE just returned from a long drive
up the mountains to Redwood dis-
trict, a country of great trees, some of
them six to eight feet in diameter, which
compare favorably with the Mariposa and
Calaveras trees. We picnicked in an open
field fairly deluged in wild flowers. Fancy
lying on a soft bed of wild flowers of every
color and family with trees of eight feet in
diameter for shade ! Such was our agree-
able experience on a fine, warm, sunny day
with the blue Pacific in sight, and the de-
licious mountain air filling our lungs. Oh !
the birds and the flowers ! It seems as if
I could not cease writing of them. I did
not believe it possible that anywhere in the
world there could be such a paradise. As
in the rich valley of San Joaquin and that
of San Gabriel, the little field larks sang
loudly to us. They must have been glad
also to see us enjoy ourselves like so many
children, for they sang most enchantingly.
Music suggests music, and far away, we
thought of "Thomas," but in the end
unanimously decided to give the palm to
the little miniature bird orchestra of larks
gathered around us, their little throats
swelling with melody, piping their sweet
hymns of praise to the God of day. We
leave here to-morrow for the Yosemite Val-
ley. I will write to you from there.

Yosemite Valley, Cal. — We went to
the foot of the Lower Yosemite Fall (500
feet), and gazed at its wonderful beauty
and bathed in its mist; the path to the
Fall leading through beds of wild straw-
berries, just ripening, and so round, cross-

ing the river again close by Barnard's
hotel (late Hutchings' — our fellow traveller
on the stage). I must here stop to tell
you something about the woodpeckers
which old Hutchings told us on our route.
He says the woodpeckers — birds which we
met constantly on our journey to and
through the Valley — are " characters " in
their way. Among other curious things
that they do may be mentioned the fol-
lowing as being interesting, I think: Mind-
ful of the winter months when food will
be scarce, they pick up acorns during the
season when the oaks are shedding, and
put them into holes which they bore in the
pines with their long beaks, and when
the icy months come and there is nothing
else for them to eat, they go in flocks and
gather these acorns, which, as each one
contains a worm, afford them a delicious
and ample supply of food for the hard sea-
son. And they have to fight often for this
very food which they have so carefully and
prudently garnered up, for they have an
enemy in the squirrel — little rascal ! — who^
too lazy and too improvident himself to
provide ahead for his wants, will forage on
his neighbors, and there is eternally war —
war to the knife — between the woodpeck-
ers and the squirrels in consequence. Their
bloody battles are often watched, and are,
as a matter of course, very interesting in-
deed. Five or six woodpeckers are often
seen attacking one of their thieving foes,
who nevertheless will often, in spite of their
odds, succeed in capturing the choice mor-
sels so cleverly stored away by the indus-
trious little fellows.

H. S. M.

A Visit to Audubon s Home.

151

BIRDS IN DISGUISE

THE following is the list of birds
veiled in the anagram in our June
number. The first five correct solutions
received in our ofifice reached us in the fol-
lowing order:

Mrs. E. A. Foster, New York city; Jer-
ome Trombley, Petersburgh, Mich.; Wal-
ter B. Savery, Salem, Mass.; Miss Margaret
F. Boynton, Lockport, N. Y.; Russell W.
Taft, Williston, Vt. Several other correct
solutions were received, with two or three in
which " rock crane " was incorrectly given
for corn crake.

1. Granite den soup. i.

2. Go mind brick. 2.

3. T my wise finch. 3.

4. Blow direly. 4.

5. Retort riven hang red 5.

6. Do keep crow. 6.

7. Drink big. 7.

8. Our sea eggs. 8.
g. Boil knob. 9.

10. Rush the mirth. 10.

Pinnated Grouse.

Mockingbird.

Chimney Swift.

Yellowbird.

Great Northern Diver.

Woodpecker.

Kingbird.

Sage Grouse.

Bobolink.

Hermit Thrush.

23.
24.

25.
26.

27-

2S.

29.
30.

31-
32.
33-
34-
35-
36.

R. dug moonvine.
Nib's word.
Her rain pie.
U. go defer surf.
Magpi rant.
A Turk age.
.Sling in sheep.
Grow, parsons!
Make a world.
Dryer birch.
Pawling.

Try! Gap! Roar!
Whirlpool Pi W.
Alan's children.
Sabre! Rend! Ob='
Who bit B. E. ?
Pain's perd.
Girls tan.
Grin him dumb !
Long brace O sea
Reduce kid.
Heed larks.
Bask, Radical Nes
Near crock.
Shirt Co.
Lub Bride.

23-

24-

R.25.

26.

27.

28.
29.
30-

31-

32.

rol33.

34-

35-
36.

Mourning Dove.
Snowbird.
Prairie Hen.
Ruffed Grouse.
Ptarmigan.
Great Auk.
English Snipe.
Song Sparrow.
Meadow Lark.
Cherrybird.
Lapwing.
Gray Parrot.
Whippoorwill.
Sandhill Crane.
Robin redbreast.
Bob White.
Sandpiper.
Starling.
Hummingbird.
Barnacle Goose.
Eider Duck.
Sheldrake.
Cardinal Grosbeak.
Corncrake.
Ostrich.
Bluebird.

A VISIT TO AUDUBON'S HOME.

IN her entertaining narrative of the life
of Audubon, Mrs. St. John mentions
an estate or '' plantation " on the Perkiomen
as having been occupied by Audubon while
he was a resident of Pennsylvania.

A short time since it was the writer's
fortune to visit this historic spot, and it
may interest admirers of the great natural-
ist to know something of his old home as
it now appears. It is to-day one of the
finest among the many splendid farms in a
region noted for fertility and beauty.

The valley of the Perkiomen Creek is
surpassingly attractive in itself. The left
bank of the stream, from its confluence
with the Schuylkill as far as the eye will
reach, is flanked with a thickly wooded
ridge, rising in places abruptly from the
water's edge, with many evergreens show-
ing here and there among the more numer-
ous deciduous trees.

Along the opposite side are lovely
meadows stretching away far and wide,
over which flocks of sheep and cattle roam
and feed contentedly and luxuriously, or
rest in the generous shade of trees that,
from their great size and age, must have
graced the landscape in Audubon's time,
the whole scene presenting a charming
picture of rural peace and plenty.

Local history tells us that here, about
the beginning of the present century, Au-
dubon laid the foundation of his great
work, here also on April 8, 1808, he mar-
ried Lucy Bakewell, and here too his eldest
son was born.

Preparatory to his removal to Kentucky
the naturalist disposed of the farm to
Joseph Williams, of Wliitemarsh, from
whom it passed into the possession of M.
R. Ambler, Esq., the present owner. — W.
D. Zimmerman in Forest and Stream.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The registered membership of the Society at
June 30 was 47,095, showing an increase of 611
for the month, due to the following sources:

New York 56 Mississippi 10

Maine i Kentucky i

New Jersey 61 Arkansas i

Connecticut 36 Dakota 4

Vermont 11 Wisconsin 157

Rhode Island 7 Missouri i

Massachusetts 45 California 20

New Hampshire 5 Maryland 10

Pennsylvania 69 Virginia 17

Ohio 3 Florida i

Illinois 21 Canada 29

Michigan 2 England i

Minnesota 8 East India i

Nebraska 33

C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

611

ROBIN LOTHARIO.

Editor Audubon Jlagaziiw:

Farmer Geo. P. Smith of , Pa., has been

for years a staunch bird protector like his neighbor,
James Hixenbaugh, aged seventy. Two weeks ago
the writer was a guest of Mr. S. , and our after-din-
ner stroll included a visit to Jim's place. Jim's
crops were in excellent condition, being chiefly of
the cat and thistle bird varieties, interspersed with
robins; and these hedged in with thrushes, larks, etc.

"You see," said Jim, "we've no cats or dog to
scare the birds, and I like to hear 'em singin' round
the house;" then he led the way to the subject of
this letter.

Halting within ten feet of the front porch he
spread apart the top of a bush and exposed to view a
nest, on which lay three young birds; these infants
he tenderly removed, and we saw that the nest was
full of eggs.

Now, three weeks before, two female robins com-
menced to build in this bush, and the work pro-
gressed smoothly enough until they met at the nest;
then sparring for an opening, they knocked the
building material from each other's mouths, clinched
and fell to the ground. Hostilities were suspended
by Sheriff Jim's approach, and work was presently
resumed; but they met again, and then another dis-
graceful affair, and a dozen or more such rounds
were fought before the nest was finished. A strug-
gle now ensued for first occupancy, and the unsuc-
cessful bird deposited her egg on the ground; but
friend-in-need Jim placed it in the nest. A third
egg was laid, and when the alternate bird arrived,
she saw that "raise," and went one or two better:

and so the game proceeded, and the stakes increased
until the pool was valued at eleven eggs, by actual
count of Banker Hixenbaugh. Of course the
hatching was initialed by a row, and during this
scuffle an egg was jostled out, which Jim appro-
priated— his ten per cent, commission. In due
course of time three young appeared and now, for
the first time, Mr. Robin showed preference — for
the presiding mother, (and which one was it?) Oc-
casionally (and to his credit be it recorded) he fed
the children; and ever, while he sought the market
for fresh supplies, the jilted bird appeared with
worm in mouth, but forced (alas!) to retire on ac-
count of her savage rival. Thus affairs were pend-
ing that pleasant June afternoon.

" What do you think of this, Jim?"

" I believe," stroking his beard and looking" over
his spectacles at the speaker, " it's a clear case of
one man with two wimmin."

No covert humor in his tone nor trace of any
smile upon his face; perhaps he, too, was touched
by the pathos of it all. Poor wifey No. 2! was she
not entitled to a portion of the brood ? or at least
she might have been allowed to cater to the nest;
that nest in which she held both stock and heart in
trust.

"The nest is full now," continued Jim, "and I'm
going to rig up some grass about it; then if any
more eggs hatch out mebby the other female will
have a chance to do some feedin'."

Fancy eight or ten such youngsters, all open-
mouthed, around that center table, impatiently wait-
ing there, and the mammas bitterly striving to serve
the first course of deliciously fat grub worms.

Pittsburgh, June 16. R. H.

SONG OF THE WHIPPOORW^ILL.

Editor Audubon Magazine':

We moved to our farm here in Northern Pennsyl-
vania this spring. We enjoy our rural home con-
stantly. The lovely views, the succession of beauti-
ful flowers in woodlands, meadows and by road-
sides, these with the birds are a constant delight.
A pair of kingbirds have their nest in an old pear
tree close to the house. The nest is on a large
limb, some distance from the ground, and near the
tip of the limb. We have enjoyed watching them,
sitting or standing in the open door; with the field
glass we were able to bring them very close to us,
so as to see every turn of the eye. The young
brood require a great deal of attention now. The
parent birds keep up a constant fluttering over the
nest, first one and then the other returns from gar-

The Audubon N'ote Book.

15,

den or meadow with insects. I see them a great
deal in the vegetable garden walking between the
"green things growing," and their search seems to
be rewarded very soon. There are some small dead
limbs on their old pear tree. These are always
selected by them to perch on. We never see them
sit among the leaves. We are enjoying " Fifty
Common Birds and How to Know Them; " I think
it will be a great help. But more than anything
else we have enjoyed the song of the whippoorwill.
This is a most charming vesper song. Happy the
man who, leaning on his pasture bars, hears in the
" gloaming " this clear whistle coming up to him
from the gathering shadows in the valley below.
But it is most pleasing to those who having heard it
in childhood, and not having heard it for years,
come to hear again the wild, sweet, well-remem-
bered notes. How the old memories come throng-
ing back! We sit out on the lawn in the cool of the
day, or lounge in the hammock and listen. Now,
one note, clear and distinct, sounds out alone, then
by twos and threes, then all together. We have
but to close our eyes and we are back in our child-
hood, sitting on the porch. Father has come in
from some late chores, and pausing on the porch
has said, " Come out and hear the whippoorwill."
We sit there in the gathering gloom, and hear the
song coming up to us through the fragrant air from
the swamp below. Well may we pray with the old
man in Dickens's "Christmas Tale," "Lord keep
my memory green." Later on in the evening the
one who is reading aloud to the family pausing says,
" Hark! How plainly you can hear him now." Still
later, when the lights are out, and the house still,
there floats through the closed blinds on the breeze
that fans this "heaven-kissing hill," the same half
plaintive note. It comes deliciouslv sweet to our
drowsy senses, then faint and fainter till it mingles
with our dreams, as we once more (as we only can
in dreamland) walk with those who have "sailed be-
yond the sunset and touched the happy isles."
Uplands, Pa. LuCY LyMAN PeCK.

A TRUE INCIDENT.

A LADY and a little girl were looking through a
box tilled with artificial flowers, feathers and birds
for hat trimmings. The lady was well educated,
and had always lived in a happy and refined home.
The little girl was less than seven years old, and
had spent the first part of her short life in a home
of destitution and degradation until it became at
length necessary to break up the poor family and
send her to the "Children's Home" of a county
poorhouse. This kind lady, whom the child was
now visiting had taken her from tjie " Home," and
they were now engaged in choosing from the box

something for the trimming of a summer hat for the
little girl. The lady had long heard of the Audu-
bon Society's protest against the wholesale slaughter
of birds to satisfy the demands of fashion. The
child was ignorant of it all, and poor, and to her
these bright things were rare and tempting treasures.

" Let's put this pretty feather on the hat," said
the lady.

"Poor birdie," said the child, "what made you
kill it?"

" I did not kill it," was the reply.

"Who killed the birdie, then ? " said the little girl.

" I don't know; a man did, I suppose."

" But," said the child, "what made you let the
man kill the poor birdie?"

" I could not help it."

The little child looked up, and then said seriously,
"You hadn't ought'er take any feathers from the
man that killed poor birdie." The lady was silent,
and trimmed the hat with a flower. H. N. D.

SWALLOWS AT SEA.

A RATHER curious episode in natural history
occurred the other day on board the French steam-
boat Abd-el Kader during the passage from Mar-
seilles to Algiers. Just as the vessel was about two
hours out the skies became quite black with swal-
lows. It was then about six o'clock in the evening.
The birds alighted in thousands on the sails, ropes
and yards of the Abd-el-Kader. After a perky sur-
vey of the deck from their eminences aloft, they
descended coolly on deck, hopped about among the
sailors and passengers, and eventually found their
way into the cabins both fore and aft. The birds
were evidently fatigued after a long flight, and
allowed themselves to be caught by the people, who
gave them a welcome reception and provided them
with food, which they enjoyed heartily. The little
winged strangers remained all night on the vessel,
and in the morning at seven o'clock the head look-
out bird had, no doubt, sighted the Balearic Isles,
for the whole flock made for land, after having
spent a comfortable and refreshing night on board
ship.

Mrs. Somervil'.e and Her Bird. — Mrs. Som-
erville, the well known English woman, writing in
1869 says: "I have still the habit of studying in bed
from eight till twelve or one o'clock, but I am left
solitary, for I have lost my little bird who was my
constant companion for eight years. It had both
memory and intelligence, and such confidence in me
as to sleep upon my arm while I was writing." Yes,
birds have no instinctive fear of man, and will not
fly from his approach until after they have learned
by experience that he is not to be trusted.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

i

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass.
2nd mo., 20, 1886.

Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation" of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, N. Y.,

Feb. 22, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream :

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossihe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the AuDUBON Society. Very sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, ]
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. \
Editor Forest and Stream:

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE TOWHEE BUNTING.
( Pipilo erythrophthalnms (LiNN.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

SEPTEMBER, 1888.

No. 8.

THE TOWHEE BUNTING.

ONE of the most abundant summer
birds of middle North America is
the Ground Robin, Chewink or Towhee
Bunting. Although so numerous in our
forests and along the hedgerows, it is yet a
bird known to few persons except those
who make a study of our feathered visit-
ants. It comes quietly in the spring, and,
seldom appearing in the fields or about the
houses, at once betakes itself to its chosen
haunts along the edges of the woods. A
favorite resort for these birds is one of the
rambling, grass-grown woodroads or cart
paths which so often traverse our New
England woods. The narrow track is ver-
dant with fresh grass, and on either side
near the tumble down stone walls or rail
fences, which bound the road, the ground
is overgrown with cedars and sumachs, and
these are matted together with thorny cat-
briers. It is under and among these
tangled growths that the Towhee Bunting
delights to dwell, and if you go along care-
fully and quietly any bright summer morn
ing or evening you may hear him busily at
work on the ground, scratching among the
dry leaves in search of food, or if it is the
mating season you will come upon him
seated on the lowest branch of some over-
hanging chestnut, and trilling the simple
lay which cheers his mate while she broods
her eggs not far away.

The Towhee Bunting makes its appear-
ance with us in the latter part of April,

having passed the winter in the Southern
States, where it is found everywhere at that
season of the year. Its migrations are per-
formed slowly by short flights, and its wing
beats are so rapid that sometimes they may
be heard at quite a little distance. At this
time it is a busy, restless bird, seeming un-
willing to remain quiet for any length of
time, and appearing to be impressed with
the notion that it must hurry on to its jour-
ney's end. And yet for all its apparent
haste it seems to loiter. When the Tow-
hees reach their breeding places they ar-
rive singly, never moving in flocks, the
males coming first and dispersing them-
selves over the country, to be followed a
little later by their more plainly clad mates.
Soon after the arrival of these latter the
birds choose their mates. A site for a nest
is selected, usually at the footof some bush
or very young tree, sometimes close to a
tuft of high grass; and now both the mates
take part in the labor of making the nest.
This is begun by scratching out a hollow
in the ground as large as a good sized tea
cup. This hollow is then lined with dried
grasses, and slender weed stalks, some-
times with dried leaves, and over this, to
form the real lining of the nest on which
the delicate eggs are to rest, are finer
grasses, fibrous roots, and sometimes horse
or cow hair. The whole is a most com-
pact and comfortable structure, and it is
generally well protected from danger of

158

The Towhee Bunting.

discovery by the grass and growing leaves
and twigs which surround it. In this nest
the female lays from four to six closely
speckled or mottled eggs. If disturbed
during incubation she usually manages to
slip off her nest unobserved, and to run
some little distance through the grass be-
fore taking flight, and is thus sometimes
able to throw the observer off the track as
to the true location of her nest. Usually,
however, this is readily discovered, owing to
the habit of choosing a location for it close
to some rather prominent object.

The nest of this species is exposed to
more dangers than those of tree inhabiting
species. Snakes discover and devour both
eggs and young, and sometimes the old
bird as well, and skunks and foxes also
prey upon them, while crows and jays
are unremitting enemies. The cow bunting
often chooses the nest of the Towhee as a
cradle for its egg, and we have found a
nest which contained three of the latter,
and four which belonged to the owner of
the structure. Although the Towhee dur-
ing the breeding season at the north has
only natural enemies to fear, yet when
forced south by the approach of winter, this
bird is eagerly sought for as an article of
food. In Louisiana, where they are very
abundant during the fall and winter, they
become extremely fat and are shot and
sent to market in great numbers. Here
they are known as Grassets, and are greatly
esteemed for the table, being regarded by
epicures much as is the ricebird or bobo-
link in other localities.

Still, notwithstanding all the enemies
against which they have to contend, the
Towhees seem to hold their own pretty
well, and are very abundant.

The Towhee Bunting is at all times an
active, graceful bird, and its long tail bor-
dered with white is conspicuously flirted
about as it hops or runs along the ground,
or passes by short flights from bush to bush.

In the Northern States the eye of this

bird, when it is adult is usually of a bright
red color, that of the young bird being
brown. Sometimes, however, the two eyes
are of different colors, one being red and
the other brown. Wilson speaks of an in-
dividual which had one eye red and the
other white, and Mr. Allen has described a
variety from Florida which has both eyes
white.

The names Chewink and Towhee are
given this bird from a fancied resemblance
of its cry to these syllables. In the West
its common cry of anxiety or alarm is not
unlike the common note of the catbird, and
resembles the mewing of a kitten.

The Towhee Bunting belongs to the
genus Pipilo, of which there are in North
America fifteen or eighteen species and
varieties scattered all over the breadth of
the continent. They are birds of rather
southerly distribution, and only two or
three species pass over the border line of
the United States into Canada. Most of
those found east of the Main Divide of the
Rocky Mountains bear a general resem-
blance to our eastern bird.

The Towhee Bunting is eight and one-
half inches long, and measures twelve
inches in extent of wing. Its bill is conical
and very robust, the wings short and
rounded, and the tail long, expanded
toward its end and then abruptly rounded.
The bill is black, and the eyes bright red.
The legs and claws are pale flesh color.
The head, neck and upper parts in the
male are black. There is a narrow white
band across the wing, the outer edge of the
first quill of which is white. The margins
of some of the secondary feathers are
white. The outer tail feathers are mostly
white, and are conspicuous when the bird
is in flight; the next two have also some
white on them near their extremities. The
breast is white, the sides rich brownish red,
and the belly pale red. The female differs
from the male chiefly in having the black
of the latter replaced by brown.

ALEXANDER WILSON.

IV.

WILSON soon found that he could
not indulge in his favorite pursuits
consistently with his conscientious dis-
charge of his duty to his pupils. His
dream of writing and illustrating a work on
ornithology, once it had taken definite
shape, and presented itself as a task within
the compass of his abilities, became the one
idea of his life, to which every other con-
sideration must be subordinated, and to
give effect to it, it would be necessary to
resign his school appointment. He had
no hesitation in making the sacrifice, but
before cutting himself adrift he prudently
looked about for some means of providing
for his necessary expenses. He applied to
Mr. Brown, the conductor of the Literary
Magazine^ who accepted his " Rural Walk "
and " Solitary Tutor " — two poetical pieces,
the latter being descriptive of his own
career, his early preparation for the church,
his disappointment at being diverted into
another and less congenial channel, his
struggle to emancipate himself, his emigra-
tion, his school house on the Schuylkill, and
his favorite haunts in Bartram's woods.

The acceptance of these pieces encour-
aged him to make a journey on foot to the
Falls of Niagara, which he accomplished
along with two friends, starting in October,
1804. The lateness of the season exposed
them to many hardships on the return jour-
ney, a distance of over six hundred miles,
which he describes as in great part "through
deep snows and uninhabited forests, over
stupendous mountains and down danger-
ous rivers."

This journey neither satisfied nor dis-
couraged him, on the contrary, it appears
only to have awakened in him a real design
of becoming a traveler, and by his acqui-
sitions adding something to the common
stock of knowledge, but he realized keenly

his deficiency in many acquirements neces-
sary to an explorer, especially in botany,
mineralogy and drawing, and meditated a
preparatory course of study of these sub-
jects, consulting his friend Mr. Bartram as
usual.

This, his first journey in the pursuit of
material for his natural history, is described
in the poem of the " Foresters," afterward
published in the "Portfolio, "and furnished
the materials for his beautiful description
and poem of the bald eagle and fish hawk.
Other journeys were undertaken in the
following year, the most patent and im-
mediate result of which was the destruction
of the success of his school. His own
neglect was aggravated by the severe win-
ter of 1805, which pressed hard on the
settlers.

Writing to Mr. Duncan at its close he
says: "This winter has been entirely lost
to me as well as to yourself. I shall on
the 12th of next month be scarcely able to
collect a sufficiency to pay my board, hav-
ing not more than twenty-seven scholars.
Five or six families who used to send me
their children have been almost in a state
of starvation."

Wilson still remained at Union School,
and " managed to maintain himself honest-
ly," as his biographer tells us, but he
could not give up the design of illustrating
the birds of the United States, though pru-
dence, represented by Mr. Lawson's calcu-
lations, still forbade the scheme.

On July 2 of this year he wrote to Mr.
Bartram, " I dare say you will smile at my
presumption when I tell you that I have
seriously begun to make a collection of
drawings of the birds to be found in Penn-
sylvania, or that occasionally pass through
it. Twenty-eight as a beginning I send
for your opinion. They are, I hope, in-

i6o

Alexandei' Wilson.

ferior to what I shall produce, though as
close copies of the originals as I could
make. One or two of these I cannot find
either in your " Nomenclature " or the
seven volumes of Edwards. Any hint for
promoting my plan or enabling me to exe-
cute better I will receive from you with
much pleasure. Criticise these, my dear
friend, without fear of offending me. This
will instruct, but not discourage me. To
your advice and encouraging encomiums I
am indebted for these few specimens, and
for all that will follow. They may yet tell
posterity that I was honored with your friend-
ship, and that to your inspiration they owe
their existence y

Expressions such as that given above in
italics indicate that in spite of his enthu-
siasm and no mean measure of self-reliance,
there was in Wilson a tendency to so
modest an appreciation of his own abilities,
that at this decisive stage of his career he
would hardly have ventured on the struggle
for the consummation of his dreams unless
encouraged by those in whose judgment he
had implicit confidence.

But now a circumstance arose which pre-
vented him from putting his design in im-
mediate execution, and which, perhaps, as
suggested by his biographer, favored his
success indirectly by hindering him from
commencing on his own inadequate re-
sources.

Mr. Jefterson, the then President of the
United States, had it in contemplation to
dispatch an expedition to explore the coun-
try of the Mississippi, and Wilson sought to
be appointed as a naturalist to the party.
He applied to Mr. Bartram, who cheerfully
wrote to the President, recommending his
friend, and Wilson forwarded the letter
with a communication from himself, in
which he set forth that he had been several
years engaged in collecting materials and
furnishing drawings with the design of pub-
lishing a new ornithology of the United
States of America, and having collected

and drawn a great many birds hitherto un-
described, he was very anxious for such an
opportunity as the proposed expedition
afforded, of adding to his stock of knowl-
edge, and collecting fresh materials for his
contemplated work.

Wilson had been previously introduced
to Jefferson, for whom he felt a species of
hero worship, which had been intensified
by the receipt of a very cordial and appre-
ciative letter from him in acknowledgment
of the drawings of two birds which Wilson
had secured on his trip to Niagara, and
forwarded to the President after his return.

This letter would lead it to be inferred
that Mr. Jefferson himself was a careful
student of ornithology; and Wilson with
his sanguine temperament must have built
high hopes on the success of his application,
but no attention was ever paid to it, and
neither Wilson nor Bartram ever obtained a
clue to the President's neglect, which sur-
prised them greatly.

But he builds foolishly who builds on
past courteous communications from kings
or presidents. The probabilities are that
the courteous and appreciative letter in ac-
knowledgment of Wilson's drawings was
written by a secretary or some one of the
staff supposed to know something about
natural history, and that Wilson's applica-
tion revived no recollection whatever in
the President's mind.

But an opportunity, perhaps still more
favorable to Wilson's designs, was on its
way to him. Mr. Samuel F. Bradford, book-
seller in Philadelphia, was about to publish
an improved edition of Rees' New Cyclo-
pedia. Wilson was introduced to him as
one qualified to superintend the work, and
was engaged at a liberal salary as assistant
editor.

The agreement is dated April 20, 1806,
and two days later he wrote as follows to
Mr. Bartram expressing difiidence in his
ability for the superintendence of such
varied subjects:

Bird Legends.

i6i

" This engagement will, I hope, in more
ways than one, enable me to proceed with
my intended ornithology, to which all my
leisure moments will be devoted. In the
mean time, I anticipate with diffidence the
laborious and very responsible situation I
am soon to be placed in, requiring a much
more general fund of scientific knowledge,
and stronger powers of mind than I am

possessed of; but all these objections have
been overruled, and I am engaged."

This proved the stepping-stone to suc-
cess in the great object of his life, which he
soon unfolded to Mr. Bradford, who
thought so favorably of the undertaking,
and of Wilson's abilities, that he agreed to
become the publisher, and furnish the
requisite funds.

BIRD LEGENDS.

AMONG the various superstitions re-
lating to the animal creation, our
feathered friends play an important part,
and it may not be uninteresting to retail
some of the principal traditions and popular
beliefs concerning them.

We will begin with the raven, who takes
the place of the eagle in northern myth-
ology. He was sacred to Wodan, and was
believed to be his especial companion.
Wodan had two ravens, named Huginn and
Muninn, who reported to him all the news
of the world; and, furthermore, announced
to heroes their approaching death. Thence
arises the universal belief that the croaking
of a raven portends a death. In the Mid-
dle Ages, evil spirits were supposed to as-
sume the form of ravens, for when Christ-
ianity transformed Wodan into the devil,
his winged messenger became uncanny.
Sometimes a sight of a raven brings ill-
fortune, and sometimes it betokens good;
but whoever finds a feather will have luck.

In Swabia, a flight of ravens foretells
war, and in the Tyrolese Oetz-Thal, people
say that, when ravens fly around some
particular pasture, and suddenly dart to
the ground, a cow will die within three
days. The Tyrolese peasantry declare that
the ravens are so clever that "they scent
the powder in the gun," and that is the
reason it is so difficult to shoot them. Ac-
cording to a Tyrol legend, the ravens and

crows once had snow-white plumage, and
were beautiful birds, very proud of their
appearance. They were especially fond of
frequenting the neighborhood of streams,
and bathed a great deal. One day they
were thus engaged, when the Holy Child
drew near to quench His burning thirst,
but the ravens splashing in the water made
it quite thick and muddy. Then the Holy
Boy said: "Because ye are so ungrateful
and so vain of your dazzling white plum-
age, ye shall henceforth have naught but
black feathers unto the end of the world."

In the Lech Valley there is a belief that
the ravens never drink during June, because
in that month they feed the prophet Elijah.
In North Germany, Swabia, and Tyrol, a
superstition prevails, that if the eggs are
taken from a raven's nest, boiled, and re-
placed, the old raven will bring a root or
stone to the nest, which he fetches from
the sea. This "raven stone" is very valu-
able, for it confers great good fortune on
its owner, and has likewise the power of
rendering him invisible when worn on the
arm. The stone is found in the nests of
magpies as well as ravens, and as it makes
the nest itself invisible, it must be sought
with the aid of a mirror.

In Pomerania and Riigen, the method is
somewhat different. The parent birds
must have attained the age of a hundred
years, and the would-be possessor of the

l62

Bird Legends.

precious "stone" must climb up and kill one
of the young ravens, who must- be a cock
bird, and not over six weeks old. Then
the aggressor decends, taking careful note
of the tree. The old raven immediately
returns with the stone, which he puts in his
son's beak, and, thereupon, both tree and
nest become invisible. The man, however,
feels for the tree, and on reaching the nest
he carries off the stone in triumph. Rligen
folks declare that this feat can only be ac-
complished by the help of the devil, and
that the man's soul is the price paid for
such assistance.

The Swabian peasantry maintain that the
young ravens are nourished solely by the
dew from heaven during the first nine days
of their existence. As they are naked, and
of a light color, the old birds do not believe
they are their progeny, and consequently
neglect to feed them; but they occasionally
cast a glance at the nest, and when the
young ones begin to show a little black
down on their breasts by the tenth day, the
parents bring them the first carrion.

The magpie shares the raven's reputation
for sorcery in many places, and he is also
supposed to bring bad luck. Silesia is the
only exception, for there people think that
the chattering of a magpie foretells the ar-
rival of esteemed visitors. In Tyrol, on
the contrary, its screaming denotes famine
or pestilence. Whenever a magpie screams
outside a house in West Prussia or Hesse,
it is regarded as a sure token of strife within
that same day. A magpie boiled down
into soup makes him who eats it lose his
senses.

In Lech Valley a curious notion exists,
that when nine magpies are seen together,
one of them is sure to be a witch. It is
unlucky to shoot a magpie in Prussia; and
in the Wetterau, the same theory is held
respecting the water-wagtails, who are much
given to frequenting the neighborhood of
cows, "because they were formerly cows
themselves !"

Popular tradition states that magpies-
were originally white birds, and that they
owe their black feathers to some enchant-
ment. But the time will come when they
will cast off the spell and resume once more
their snowy plumage, and then happy days
will dawn on the earth. The Emperor
Barbarossa sleeps within the mountain so
long as the magpies wear their parti-colored
plumage; but when they gain their former
white hue, he will awake, and will emerge
from his subterranean cavern, to reign
triumphantly over a great united Father-
land. In Uhland's well-known ballad of
the Emperor Barbarossa, it is the ravens
who encircle the Kyffhauser mountain
where the Kaiser reposes.

Other ill-omened birds are the jackdaws,
whose appearance in flights betokens either
tempest or war; and the owl, whose hooting
portends death; while in the Prussian Mark,
Silesia, and Austria, the same quality is
ascribed to the cock when he crows into
the house. A crowing hen means ill-fortune,
but it can be averted by immediately wring-
ing the neck of the evil prophet. A white
cock is a good omen. The Tyrolese peas-
anty say that, when a cock is seven years
old, he lays an &%g which produces a
dragon.

Peacocks, when they make their dis-
agreeable shrill noise, are said to predict
rain, a piece of weather lore embodied in
the following couplet:

When the peacock loudly bawls,
Then we'll have both rain and squalls.

And in Lupton's " Notable Things," we read
that the oftener they cry the more rain is
signified. Again, the woodpecker's cry de-
notes wet, a notion which prevails on the
Continent of Europe. It has on this account
been properly called the "rain bird," and in
Northumberland it is known as the " rain
fowl." Several items of weather lore are
associated with our domestic bird, the cock.
Thus, according to an old proverb;

Queen Honey Dew.

i6

If the cock crows going to bed,

He's sure to rise with a watery head.

If the cock moults before the hen,

We shall have the weather thick and thin.

If the hen moults before the cock.

We shall have weather hard as a block.

Once more, there is a common idea that
if the cock stays on the roost longer in the
morning than usual, and crows there, it is a
sign of wet weather. Fowls again have their
weather lore, and a well-known rhyme re-
minds us how,

If fowls roll in the sand
Rain is at hand,

and a popular couplet in Scotland is to the
following effect:

When ducks are driving through the burn,
That night the weather takes a turn.

In Scotland there is a superstition that if
the raven cries first in the morning, it will
be a good day; if the rook the reverse.
Thus the subjoined rhyme:

The corbie said unto the craw,
"John, fling your plaid awa."
The craw said unto the corbie,
"Johnnie, fling your plaid about ye."

Swans have generally been considered
good weather prophets:

The swans that sail along the silvery flood,
And dive with stretching necks to search their food.
Then lave their backs with sprinkling dews in vain.
And stem the stream to meet the promised rain.

The cuckoo, too, is not without its omens,
as is shown by the subjoined piece of ad-
vice to the farmer:

When the cuckoo comes to the bare thorn,
Sell your cow and buy your corn;
But when she comes to the full bit,
Sell your corn and buy your sheep.

The screaming of the owl is a bad sign,
being supposed to prognosticate stormy,
tempestuous weather. Lastly, when spar-
rows chirp a great deal, and robins do not
venture to go far from houses, rain may be
considered near at hand.

There is a legend common in Scandin-
avia that a dishonest handmaiden of the
Blessed Virgin purloined her mistress's sil-
ver scissors, and that she was transformed
into a lapwing for punishment, the forked
tail of the bird being a brand of the theft,
and that the bird was doomed to a contin-
ual confession of the crime by the plaintive
cry, "Tyvit, tyvit!" that is, in Scandinavian,
"I stole them! I stole them!"

QUEEN HONEY DEW.

ONCE upon a time a little queen lay
quietly in her cradle wondering when
it would be time for her to slip out of her
silken baby robes, and turn into a grown-
up queen; for in Beedom, where she lived,
the royal babies did not have to wait years
and years to grow up, but as soon as they
left the nursery they became full-grown
almost instantly, and thus there was no
time wasted, and they were ready at once
to enter upon the duties of sovereignty.

This saved much expense in the way of
tutors and governesses, lawyers and prime
ministers, and seemed such a very wise
plan altogether, that the inhabitants of that
country often wondered why the rest of the

world did not follow their example; but
they were such an industrious race that
they never had time to go abroad and
spread their ideas, and could only hope that
every one would grow wise enough some
day to do just as they did, not only about
queens, but about everything else.

And they really were such wonderful
creatures that they were perhaps excusable
in thinking their own ways almost perfect;
for every great traveler has admitted that
nowhere in the world exists a happier and
more perfectly governed kingdom than
Beedom.

The queen is so revered and beloved
that it is not even necessary to provide her

164

Queen Honey Dew.

with a body-guard; for whenever she ap-
pears among her subjects they one and all
hasten to do her homage, and bestow such
lavish attentions upon her that she enjoys
a royal progress as long as she remains in
view. She receives these attentions with
the utmost graciousness, and permits her-
self to be caressed with such sweet dignity
that it is easily seen that she holds her
power as much by love as by birth, and
that the offerings of honey and snow-drop
farina, which are tendered her as soon as
she appears, are given not from a desire to
win her favor, but to show the affection of
her subjects.

Such being the happy ways of Beedom,
it is no wonder that the baby queens wish
to leave their cradles as soon as possible,
for among other wonderful gifts they are
born with a complete knowledge of all the
customs and habits of their kingdom, and
are perfectly capable of governing as soon
as they are out of the nursery.

Queen Honey Dew was no exception to
the rule, and waited impatiently for the
moment to come when she could leave
babyhood forever. Her nurses were all
waiting the moment too, with the tenderest
anxiety, and, in fact, the whole country
was excited over the matter, for the old
queen had died some time before, and all
the hopes and ambitions of the people were
set upon the baby Honey Dew.

At last the time came. Honey Dew put
off her silken baby clothes, left her cradle
and stepped out a full-grown queen, and
after a few drowsy seconds examined with
interest the world outside her curtained
nursery.

Nothing seemed strange to her, for, of
course, she knew how everything would be;
but, nevertheless, she found great pleasure
in examining all the arrangements of her
palace, and the dwellings of her subjects,
and in the afternoon of the same day, it
being warm and sunshiny, she set off on a
royal progress through her dominions. Her

kingdom lay in the Land of Summer, and
was beautiful with ruiming brooks, singing
birds, flowers, butterflies and trees, and
Honey Dew went from object to object
with ever increasing delight.

She had imagined how wonderful it
would all be, but had never dreamed of
anything so exquisite as the blue depths of
the sky, the thousand tints of the flowers,
and the sweet odors that filled all the air,
and made it seem alive with beauty.

Everywhere she went she found her
subjects busily at work, for in this they
found their truest pleasure, and always
looked with scorn upon any one who tried
to shirk his share of the labor. And, in-
deed, so sure were they that happiness
could only be found in work, that they
could not have conceived of anything more
miserable than to be deprived of their
daily labor in the fields, and those of their
number who persisted in idleness were
generally put to death as a mark of their
displeasure.

There were many other dwellers in the
Land of Summer besides her own subjects,
and Honey Dew often wondered to see so
many of them idle or playing when she
thought they ought to be at work, and she
looked with surprise upon the birds who
seemed to be so content to sit singing on
the apple boughs rocked by the summer
wind, and the butterflies who flew from
flower to flower with apparently no thought
for anything in the world but the moment's
pleasure. Honey Dew was very indignant
at such sights, and if the offenders had
been her subjects would probably have
condemned them to instant death.

As it was, the birds sang on, the butter-
flies flitted lazily through the air, and the
dragon flies flashed in the sunlight, and
Honey Dew never imagined that if it had
been otherwise the Land of Summer would
have lost some of its sweetest charms.

Once she paused as the ruby throat of a
hummingbird gleamed through a spray of

Queen Honey Dew.

165

grassy leaves, and wondered for a moment
if it were not enough to be merely beauti-
ful without always thinking of work, but
she quickly dismissed this thought as un-
worthy the Queen of Beedom, and went on
her way, sure that her own people were the
wisest and most industrious on the face of
the earth. And as the young queen grew
older she became confirmed in this opinion,
for she found that it took great caution and
vigilance on the part of her subjects to
keep their wealth secure from the bands of
lazy marauders that were constantly on the
alert to rob their thrifty neighbors. And
she found that even Beedom was not free
from jealousies and strife, for the in-
habitants spend so much time in work that
they grow a little impatient and uncertain
in temper, and fly into the greatest rage,
sometimes without waiting to see if there
is any reason for it or not. Honey Dew
grieved over the bad dispositions of some
of her subjects, and went so far as to ac-
knowledge to herself that perhaps a little
play now and then among the flowers or by
the side of a brook might sweeten their
natures, and make them pleasanter to live
with; but she did not dare speak of this,
for she knew it was against the laws of the
land, and that she was as powerless to
change these as the humblest of her sub-
jects.

But although Honey Dew worried over
these troubles she could do nothing to help
them, except to place the most vigilant
guards around the castle to warn off daily
and nightly enemies from abroad, and to
try, by extra sweetness and amiability on
her own part, to keep her subjects from
domestic quarrels.

And it seemed after awhile that her
efforts were crowned with success, for there
was a long season of peace and happiness,
and Honey Dew almost forgot that there
was anything in the world but sunshine
and flowers.

But one day one of the guards in front

of the palace noticed a stranger lurking
around the entrance, and at once presented
arms and asked what he wanted.

The stranger replied that he was the
subject of a neighboring kingdom, also
within the limits of Beedom, and that he
was merely on a visit of curiosity, having
heard such attractive accounts of Honey
Dew and her people that he was desirous
of seeing them himself.

The guard made no reply to this, and
evidently thought that the traveler might
better have stayed at home and gone about
his work than wander around simply to
gratify an idle curiosity, and the stranger,
seeing that his politeness met with no re-
sponse, very soon took his departure, and
the guard hoped he had seen the last of
him.

But he had not, for before long the
stranger was back again, bringing with him
a companion, and in spite of the protesta-
tions of the guard they persisted in loung-
ing around the palace gates, and at last
even tried to effect an entrance.

The guard promptly called a brother
officer, and drove the intruders away; but
now it was very evident that mischief was
intended, and the officer of the guard was
informed of the stranger's visit.

He at once put a double guard around
the castle, and made preparations for in-
stantly despatching the offenders in case of
a return, but for a time it seemed that the
caution was needless, for everything re-
mained quiet, and the guards searched the
horizon in vain for the appearance of an
enemy.

But one beautiful day, when the sky was
so unusually bright, and the flowers so un-
usually lovely that a large number of in-
habitants had been tempted out in the
fields, the watchman at the gate saw what
seemed to him a large black cloud dim-
ming the distant horizon, and sweeping
rapidly toward the palace; he thought at
first that there was a shower coming up.

i66

Queen Honey Dew,

but in a few moments he saw that the
cloud was simply a multitude of foreign
soldiers, and that they were sweeping
toward the palace with the speed of the
wind.

In a moment he had sounded the alarm,
and the garrison rushed to their places, but
before even these preparations were com-
plete, the vanguard of the enemy was down
upon them, surrounding the palace with
shrill cries of defiance and threatening in-
stant destruction to the besieged.

Honey Dew trembled as the hoarse trum-
pet of their leader fell upon her ear, for she
well knew that her crown and kingdom,
and even her life was at stake, and that
even if her loyal subjects succeeded in re-
pulsing the invaders it would be at a terri-
ble sacrifice of life.

To add to her distress, a messenger
rushed in saying that the besieging army
was composed of the subjects of her own
cousin, a rival queen, who had heretofore
shown her nothing but friendliness, and
knowing their warlike disposition she
feared that the conflict could only end
with the total destruction of one of the
armies.

True to their usual mode of warfare, the
besiegers tried at once to force an entrance
into the royal apartments and murder the
queen, knowing that by this means they
would utterly dishearten their enemy, and
after gaining an easy victory could plunder
the palace at leisure.

But the Queen's guards drove them back
again and again, and forced them to con-
fine the conflict to the open air, for they
well knew that if they once allowed them
to gain an entrance it would be impossible
to drive them out again since the small
number left to guard the interior made
anything like fair fighting an impossibility.

Angered by their inability to force the
entrance, the besiegers rushed upon their
foe with redoubled fury. The trumpets
sounded loud and shrill and the robbers

massed themselves together to carry the
place by assault.

But Honey Dew's brave subjects were
not to be disheartened, and prepared to
defend their queen and their wealth with
their lives; their trumpeters roared back
defiance to the enemy, and the veterans
arranged themselves in solid phalanxes to
meet the assault, while even the youths
were pressed into service.

The gates were held by the royal guard,
which consisted of the flower of the army,
and here the enemy made the most deter-
mined onslaught, trusting in the skill of
their bold leader, who had won for them
many a bloody victory. Thrice they tried
to force the guard, and thrice they were re-
pulsed, and then giving over that portion
of the castle for the time they turned their
attention to the walls.

Here they were more successful. One
party after another scaled the lofty battle-
ments, and breach after breach was made
in the wall, while the robbers cheered one
another with shouts of victory, and reveled
in the thought of the spoil.

But the Queen's brave defenders did
not lose heart. The old soldiers still held
their places unmoved, and encouraged the
younger with words of cheer and wise ad-
vice. Those who had lost their weapons
and could not fight were told to throw
themselves upon the enemy, and hinder
their progress by the weight of their bodies,
and harrass them in every possible way.

At last admission to the palace was
gained, and the battle waxed fiercer than
before. In a few moments order and dis-
cipline were lost sight of, and there began
a desperate hand to hand fight. No quarter
was given or asked, and as the combatants
surged to and fro in the halls of the palace
it seemed impossible to guess whether the
victory would be with friend or foe.

The enemy outside, encouraged by the
successes of their comrades, now prepared
for a final onslaught, and again the trum-

Queen Honey Dew.

167

pets sounded for an attack, and as Honey
Dew heard the harsh notes ring out above
the noise of the battle her heart sank, for
she knew that those inside had already all
they could do to keep the enemy at bay,
and that further exertion would be impos-
sible.

But in the midst of the confusion a sud-
den lull in the tempest outside gave her a
little courage. In another moment a mes-
senger entered with the announcement that
the absent subjects had returned from the
field. The tide turned instantly; the rob-
bers outside the palace had now all they
could do to defend themselves from the
fresh troops, while those inside, knowing
that they could no longer look for rein-
forcements from without, ceased their mad
struggle to reach the queen, and thought
only of retreating. A few moments later
the fate of the battle was decided; the
enemy had been utterly routed, and retired
in the utmost confusion, not even lingering
to care for the wounded and dying.

The dead had nearly all disappeared be-
fore the battle ended, having been carried
off by a regiment of giants who lived not
far away, and whose custom it was to fre-
quent such scenes of bloodshed, and secure
the slain for their ghastly feasts.

Within the palace the scene was inde-
scribable. The dead and dying lay in
heaps along the corridors, and the piles of
legs and heads scattered everywhere around
showed how deadly the carnage had been.
Not an enemy remained alive in the palace
an hour after the battle, for the wounded
had been speedily dispatched, and not one
who entered succeeded in escaping.

After the strife was over the palace was
quickly cleared of all signs of the conflict,
the dead bodies being carried off to a dis-
tance from the royal domain where they
were decently buried.

The victors then returned to the palace,
and all set about repairing the damage
that had been inflicted. The shattered

walls and battlements were repaired, the
gates strengthened by additional masonry,
and the defaced corridors restored to their
original order.

When all was finished the officers of the
realm waited upon Honey Dew and ten-
dered their congratulations upon the suc-
cess of her troops, and she in return deliv-
ered a long oration in which she bestowed
great praise upon the generals and soldiers
who had fought so bravely in her defense.

And then, being of such a practical turn
that they could not bear to have their usual
work longer interrupted, most of the sur-
vivors returned to the fields, and spent the
remaining two hours of daylight in making
up for lost time.

And when the shades of evening gathered
around the castle, the groups of veterans
drawn together at the gates, discussing the
exciting day, were the only signs of the late
battle.

The veterans shook their heads and
talked over the event in loud tones, prais-
ing the young troops for their fortitude,
and the older ones for their discipline, and
all agreeing that it was they themselves
that had decided the victory. And no one
contradicted this, for no one was there to
do it, and the veterans chuckled joyfully
over their great deeds without one dissent-
ing voice.

But Honey Dew did not get over the ter-
rors of that day for a long time, for it had
given a great shock to her trusting dis-
position to find such treachery among her
relations. However, as time passed on,
and she grew more accustomed to the vicis-
situdes of life, she was able to take a little
pride in the event which was long cele-
brated in the annals of Beedom, and it was
said that if she had any favorites at court
they were sure to be found among the num-
ber that had fought so bravely for her in
the first year of her reign.

But although this toleration for war be-
came possible, it was well known among all

1 68

Singular Birds.

the neighboring tribes that Honey Dew
loved peace above all things; and through
her influence her kingdom became re-
nowned for its wisdom and wealth, her
treasure houses containing such riches as

were never dreamed of by neighboring
sovereigns.

And so she lived and reigned through
many happy years, the greatest and most
beloved queen in all the Land of Summer.

Henrietta Christian Wright.

SINGULAR BIRDS.

T

HE true cuckoos are celebrated for
the singular habit of depositing their
eggs in the nests of insectivorous as well as
granivorous birds, and what is not less ex-
traordinary, the foster parents, often of
species much inferior in size, bestow as
much care on the young cuckoo as upon
their own proper nestlings, although the
deposition of the strange &^g is generally
succeeded by the destruction of whatever
others may have been in the nest. If other
eggs be subsequently laid, and hatched with
the young cuckoo, the latter ejects its help-
less companions by insinuating itself under
them, and then by a jerk casting them suc-
cessively over the rim of the nest. This it
does when about eight days old.

The cause of this unusual phenomenon is
yet unknown, but appears to be immediately
connected with the structure of the repro-
ductive organs, and to be necessitated by
the fact that the female cuckoo lays only
at intervals of several days, and laying five
or six eggs could not well incubate her own.
Certain it is, that although a great propor-
tion of the young cuckoos are not hatched
till after their parents have migrated south-
ward, the female has been often seen to
loiter about in the vicinity of her offspring,
which she has been known to entice away
when it took flight. Herissant attributed
the phenomenon to the position of the giz-
zard, which in fact is placed further back-
ward in the abdomen, and is less protected
by the sternum, than that of birds in general,
as is also the case with the moth-hunters,
which the cuckoos closely resemble in their

internal structure. Their young are very
slow in learning to take their own food, and
are fed by their foster parents till their feath-
ers have nearly attained their full growth.

Africa, and the islands of the Indian
Ocean, produce several small species of
cuckoo, the plumage of which is more or
less gilded, brilliant emerald-green, bronzed,
or purple. A crested, spotted species is
occasionally found in southern Europe, the
cry of which is very sonorous.

The colics are birds of Africa and India,
which climb somewhat in the manner of
parrots, live in troops, and even breed in
society, constructing numerous nests in the
same bushes. They sleep suspended on a
branch with the head downward, many of
them together, and subsist on fruits, buds
of trees, and tender sprouts of vegetables.

These very curious birds are closely allied
by affinity to the plantain-eaters and tour-
acos. They sail from bush to bush in a
long row one after another, alighting al-
ways near the ground, and clambering to
the topmost twigs with the assistance of the
beak and long stiff tail, picking off the
buds or berries, and do not pass to the next
until the whole flock are ready, when they
again sail in the same regular succession.
They are very mischievous in gardens in
the Cape Colony, devouring the young
plants of vegetables as fast as they spring
up, and are there known by the term huys-
vogel, or house-bird. Their cry is monoton-
ous (having but one pair of vocal muscles),
and in the largest species closely resembles
the bleating of a lamb. G. B. G.

ARKANSAS BIRD NOTES.

BY A LOCAL SECRETARY.

AT the first announcement by the news-
papers of the new crusade against
the destroyers of birds and the wearers of
their dead bodies, our Httle family, white
and colored, resolved unanimously, " No
bird or wing of one shall ever disfigure hat
or bonnet for us."

For years we have waged war with the
small boy and his sling-shot, and have
saved many a little warbler by a timely in-
terference. We scolded, threatened and
entreated; but how much better were we?
He killed. We remonstrated, yet wore the
fruits of his thoughtlessness in our bonnets.
All in all, did not the boy have the better
excuse?

We are more pleased than we can express
at the appearance of the Audubon Maga-
zine, and hope for it success commensu-
rate with the importance of its undertaking.

There is a broad field here for earnest
and industrious labor. Your northern red-
breasts, meadowlarks and kindred birds of
passage have a dangerous gauntlet to run
in going to and from their winter resorts.
Great strings of robins and larks are of-
fered for sale on our streets as articles of
food every autumn and spring. Nor are
the birds who summer with us exempt.
The mockingbird, prince of our song birds,
becomes a source of revenue. Relentlessly
and industriously is his nest plundered, his
little ones taken captive to be reared for a
foreign market. Will Madame, who "so
wishes to have a mockingbird," remember
that to gratify her wish at least four nests
must be taken? These birds it should be
understood do not breed in captivity. They
must be taken when young from their nest
and wild mother, and at least half of those
taken are not singers; of the remainder
scarcely a tenth survives the unnatural con-

ditions. This, then, my lady friend, is the
price of your beautiful singer.

We already begin to note with concern
that mockingbirds are becoming scarce,
and are told by some that the advent of the
English sparrow is driving them away,
where? If the Audubon Society can pre-
vent the traffic in these birds they will re-
turn in spite of the sparrow, who, poor little
ragged, persistent chatterer that he is, finds
himself the scapegoat for many a worse
marauder. He is said to drive other birds
away, and do no end of other misdeeds,
besides making of himself a nuisance gen-
erally. Let me ask my Southern friends
why it is that since his appearance in force
we have escaped the annual plague of the
caterpillar. Has he "driven" them away
also? If so, welcome little nuisance.

I have been in the habit of noting down
a few little items to me interesting in spring,
but up to the last month have given but a
line or so to them in my housebook amid
bills of butcher and baker. Since reading
an article in the April Chautauquan, by our
friend John Burroughs, I have been led to
try something more extended, and am
already more than repaid for outlay in
time by my note on the oriole.

I quote from them, hoping they may not
be uninteresting to the readers of the
Audubon:

First week in February, 1886. — "The
robins are here in great numbers, and how
disappointed they must be, it is so cold.
There are numbers of the cardinal red-
bird also, and a little gray-breasted, brown-
backed and brown-winged fellow that we
call a sparrow, not knowing his real name.
I have scattered millet, oatmeal and cracker
crumbs for them, but so far as I can see all
of them prefer the little hard cedar berry."

170

Arkansas Bird Notes.

March 15. — "The martins are here."
March 17. — "The Httle house built for
the martins was scarcely in position ere it
was occupied; not without investigation,
however, on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Mar-
tin."

April 12. — "Strawberries in full bloom,
and we have heard frogs."

April 18. — "The long, clear notes of the
oriole."

May 3. — "Picked strawberries three
weeks from full bloom, and just one year
from date of last year's first picking."
May 6. — " Had peas from our garden."
May 27. — "Used potatoes, not quite
ripe."

February, 1887. — "The robins and blue-
birds are here the very first of the month,
but I am sure there are not as many as last
year. Do they remember the treatment
they received last year and before?"
February 7. — " Heard frogs last night."
March 2. — " The martins are here."
March 4. — " We were awakened this
morning by loud chatterings and calls, and
cries from martin and sparrow, and were
amused spectators of a short, yet spirited
conflict between them. The little house
built for and occupied by the martins had
been appropriated by the little sparrows
during the winter, and now came the mar-
tins to claim previous occupancy. It is
needless to tell that the martins came off
victorious, yet so it is, but the eviction was
not accomplished without much goings off
for reinforcements on both sides. Now the
martin sits on his roof gurgling out defiance
to all the sparrow tribe."

April 14. — " The oriole is here four days
earlier than last year."

April 15. — "Amid the chatter of the mar-
tins, the fiddling of the blackbirds, whose
coming I failed to note, we heard a new
song. After some search our patience was
rewarded by a sight of the singer, who
proved to be our friend the oriole with a
new note."

April 16. — "The redbird seems to be
here after all, for I heard him to day in a
sort of duet with the oriole."

April 18. — "I am surprised indeed, for
the redbird, which I was sure I heard,
proves to be the oriole again. I have
watched him so closely that I am sure
there can be no mistake. It seems strange
there is not more said of his varied gifts as
a singer. He has his own peculiar trill or
rolling song; the robins call, and now the
redbirds whistle."

April 23. — " The new magazine called
the Audubon, published in the interest of
the Protective Association, whose April
number we saw at the printing office, and
at once sent for, has arrived, and we are
much pleased with it, particularly so with
the February number containing a nice
article on the oriole. The writer says that
Nuttall speaks of an oriole 'which imi-
tated the whistle of the cardinal redbird,
the call of the Wilson's thrush, and the
song of the robin.' Just what I had noted,
and I am delighted to be able to corro-
borate so fully the testimony of so well
known an observer, and perhaps spread the
news of a fact not yet well established."

April 26. — " I thought I heard our little
yellowbird to-day. Must listen for him."

April 27. — "Heard a new singer in the
already full orchestra. From a pretty fair
look at the little warbler I think he maybe
the fallowfinch or wheatear from the de-
scription we have of that bird."

May I. — "Have just noticed the pres-
ence of the woodpecker, though I suppose
he has been here all the time, but as we
had no peas or plums as yet he had no
business with us, and we no interest for
him."

May 2. — " Magnolias in full bloom, roses
and honeysuckle past their first prime.
Peas for dinner."

Perhaps this is enough to suggest a line
of action to the most casual observer who
may read these simple notes. L. M. S.

SHORE BIRDS.

THIS is a term popularly employed to
include many of those birds which
frequent the sea coast at certain seasons of
the year. They are for the most part mem-
bers of the family Limicolae, of which plo-
vers and sandpipers may be accepted as
general types.

Familiar as they are to residents along
the Atlantic seaboard, they are in no sense
of the word exclusively marine. They are
simply migratory birds, which, following
the line of coast in their migrations, have
learned that a living is to be picked up upon
the sands and rocks that bound the ocean,
and that the salt marshes supply a rich and
varied bill of fare. A considerable pro-
portion, but by no means the whole, of the
birds of this order take the coast route in
their passage north and south, and con-
stitute a familiar feature of the landscape
at certain seasons; some of these build their
nests and rear their young along the Atlan-
tic seaboard, being either non-migratory or
confining their migrations within the limits
of the United States.

But as regards those birds of the order
whose range of migration extends from the
tropics to the Arctic region, a great many
of them make the passage inland, the val-
ley of the Mississippi being a well defined
route, and perhaps the one inland route
capable of affording a continuous and
adequate supply of food for large numbers.

The salt marshes and sands of the sea-
shore, moreover, not only furnish an abund-
ant food supply, but food of a class entire-
ly different from what the birds have been
living on either north or south, and there
is no room for reasonable doubt that these
birds look forward to spending a few
weeks or months at the seaside with pleas-
urable anticipations akin to our own, and
enjoy the change of diet with the same
keen zest.

Birds are compelled to migrate both by
the influence of climate on their own con-
stitution and its effect upon their food sup-
ply, and while some of our familiar shore
birds winter far down in South America,
where it is then summer, and spend the sum-
mer well within the Arctic circle, there are
others, like the purple sandpiper, who win-
ter upon the bleak New England coast, and
start for the north as soon as the icy grip
of winter has been relaxed, but only to
make room for the visitors from the south,
among others the well-known piping plo-
ver and the ringneck, whose notes herald
the approach of spring. The piping plover
has come to stay, and soon makes himself
at home, but abundant as is his food sup-
ply it consists of sand fleas and other small
insects, and the energy with which he pur-
sues it shows that all his faculties are called
into continuous activity for the maintenance
of his existence.

By the middle of April, or from that to
the close of the month, the winter yellow-
leg puts in his appearance on the New
England coasts, and does his best to main-
tain his established reputation as a vora-
cious feeder. Their usual feeding ground is
the low marshes, where they find innumer-
able small minnows and other forms of ma-
rine life left by the subsidence of the tide.

These birds are stigmatized by gunners
as "tell-tales," for the " yellowshank " is
not only extremely vigilant, but on the
first approach of danger he gives vent to
a loud, shrill whistle, which serves as a
warning to all the birds in the neighbor-
hood.

Another early visitant is the winter snipe
or red-backed sandpiper, who goes no fur-
ther south than Virginia, where he puts off
his black summer waistcoat, and is hardly
recognizable as the same bird. These
birds are not so numerous on our shores in

172

Shore Birds.

spring as they are in the fall, a circum-
stance due apparently to the fact that a
great many of them migrate northward by
an inland course over the Great Lakes, on
whose shores they are plentiful in early
summer.

Early in May the least sandpipers or
sandpeeps are with us, graceful, musical,
restless little creatures, devoting themselves
unceasingly to the great business of life,
following the tide out with its ebb, and re-
treating before it when it flows. There are
two or three varieties of these, and along
with them is found the sanderling, feeding
hke them along the edges of tide water.

By May 20 the red-breasted sandpiper
puts in his appearance, and announces him-
self with his dual whistling note, but he
does not come to stay; he has taken his
ticket for the great, lone northern land,
and simply stops for food and rest, but
flock succeeds flock until by the first week
of June they have all disappeared.

These birds scratch like a hen in pursuit
of horseshoe eggs. Turnstones, too, join
with them in the pursuit, and when a find
is made there is frequently some free fight-
ing over its appropriation. They are
abundant all the way from the Great Lakes
to Cape Breton, and are supposed to breed
very far north. They are back again in
August, the adult males reaching us the
last week in July, but young birds do not
make their appearance until later, and it is
not until the first week in October that they
have all come and gone.

Another familiar visitor is the black-
breasted plover, which reaches the New
England seaboard about the middle of
May. This is the largest of the plovers,
and has been hunted until it is almost ex-
terminated. Besides these there are wil-
lets, curlew and snipe of several species,
some of which are with us all summer, not
only on the coast, but wherever there are
suitable feeding grounds throughout the
whole country.

The birds of this family, in common with
ducks and geese, have a very wide mi-
gratory range, penetrating into the desolate
stillness of the marsh and lake region of
the Arctic North, where the short summer
stimulates a most prolific insect and vege-
table life.

All the Arctic navigators report birds
more or less abundant in high latitudes.
Red phalaropes, ring plover, golden plover,
ptarmigan, sanderlings, snow buntings,
sandpipers and snipe are common above
seventy degrees north latitude; here they
build their nests and rear their young in
the solitudes of the northern extremity
of Hudson's Bay, as do also ducks,
geese, brant and innumerable other water
fowl.

But the summer season in the great lone
land is a very short one. Life starts into
activity with a bound, and is arrested with
equal suddenness; but emerging from the
Arctic circle the shores of Labrador enjoy
a summer almost tropical, in which its
short-lived vegetation is forced with energy.
There are hundreds of miles of low land
along these coasts stocked with heathery,
berry-bearing shrubs, which afford a favor-
ite food for birds migrating southward at
the close of summer. The principal berry
is a deep purple color — almost black — not
unlike our blue berries, and described as
bear berries or curlew berries.

Dr. Coues, writing of a noticeable effect
of feeding on these berries, observes that
after emerging from these regions the birds
have the "whole intestines, the vent, the
legs, the bill, the throat and even the
plumage more or less stained with the deep
purple juice." These marks are not even
obliterated at the time of their return south-
ward to Cape Cod.

Fishermen and shipmasters who have
visited the coasts of Labrador describe the
birds as stringing down from the moun-
tains to the feeding grounds in myriads,
but the food supply is practically inex-

Shore Birds.

17.

haustible. The native fishermen kill and
salt them in barrels.

On the return journey in the fall of the
year many of the Limicolae strike out on a
due southerly course from Nova Scotia,
reaching the West India Islands, and as
they never winter there, it is assumed that
they cross the tropics, and finding the sea-
sons reversed, winter in the warm region of
tropical South America, passing southward
as spring advances, reaching Patagonia in
December or January. There is abundant
evidence that precisely the same birds are
common to South America, and many of
the observed facts point to the conclusion
that a great number of our shore birds
make the American grand tour annually,
securing for themselves a tolerably equable
climate throughout the year.

It is observed that they never cross Bar-
badoes on their return journey in spring,
and this fact is attributed to the prevalence
of the trade winds which drive them toward
the Mexican highlands, and it is perhaps
due to the prevalence of these winds at this
season that only the most powerful winged
of the shore birds beat their way up the
Atlantic seaboard, the birds of heavier
flight prefering the course of the Missis-
sippi.

What a restless, wandering life! extend-
ing annually over a hundred and twenty
degrees of latitude, or seven thousand
miles, exposed at every stage to dangers,
not the least of which is that of being car-
ried so far out to sea by storms that there
is no hope of return. In such cases the
struggle for life must be a desperate one,
for instances have occurred of American
birds reaching the coast of Europe.

East India abounds with birds of this
family, as well as with ducks, geese and
waders of every kind. They are only win-
ter visitors, reaching northern India in
October and remaining until February, and
there is no record of their going thence
southward to the tropics, but on their re-

turn northward to Siberia they spread out
in the same latitudes as our own, and it is
at least very possible that birds of both
hemispheres are brought into immediate
contact during the nesting season. When
we consider, too, that the old birds start
first on their southward tour, leaving the
young to follow, it might be expected that
the young of one hemisphere would some'-
times accompany flights of kindred birds
southward over the other hemisphere; but
until the distinguishing marks of nearly
allied species shall have been carefully
studied, and the knowledge rendered popu-
lar it will be very difficult to collect evi-
dence on this point.

The following are the principal birds
frequenting our eastern coasts, which are
included by gunners in the one general
term, "bay snipe:"

Long-billed curlew — popularly known as
sickle-bill or sabre-bill.

Hudsonian curlew- — the jack, or short-
billed curlew.

Esquimaux curlew — the fute, doe-bird or
little curlew, as he is termed locally.

Black-bellied plover — the blackbreast,
bullhead, beetlehead, bottlehead, oxeye,
pilot, are among the numerous aliases con-
ferred on this bird in various localities.

Golden plover — the golden back, green-
back, frostbird, whistling plover.

The marble godwit — humility or marlin.

Hudsonian godwit or ring-tailed marlin.

Semipalmated snipe or marbled willet.

Tell-tale tattler, or great yellowshanks.

Little tell-tale or common yellowshanks.

The red-breasted snipe known as quail-
snipe and dowitch.

The turnstone — calico back or brant bird.

Red-breasted sandpiper or robin snipe.

The pectoral — The red-backed and long-
legged sandpipers.

These birds have all numerous aliases,
and to identify any of them by local names
it is necessary to consult Gurdon Trum-
bull's new work "Bird Names and Portraits."

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The registered membership of the Society on
Aug. I was 47,415, showing an increase of 319
for the month, due to the following sources:

New York 50 Minnesota 19

Massachusetts 29 Dakota i

New Jersey 16 Nebraska 2

New Hampshire 2 Missouri 9

Connecticut 90 Texas 16

Vermont 2 Tennessee 2

Rhode Island 3 California 2

Pennsylvania 7 North Carolina 4

Indiana 2 Georgia 10

Michigan 15 Virginia 17

Illinois 12 Ontario 4

Ohio 2 England 3

Iowa I

319
C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

BIRD LANGUAGE.

The indigo bird I mentioned in my last letter
was in the woods near our house. He was so high
in the tree that at first I could not tell whether he
was red, blue or green, so I sat down and waited for
him to show himself. For a while he pecked about
among the leaves, uttering all the time an important
little Chip! Chip! I thought I would follow Miss
Merriam's example and imitate him. He stopped
his work instantly and came down a little. I "chip-
ped " again, and he came down still further. Then
he changed his note and cried Chee in the most
endearing tone. I took the hint and " chee-ed "
also, whereupon he became violently excited. He
flew from the tree to a bramble bush, and from there
to a tuft of grass, " cheeing " and fluttering his
beautiful blue wings. Then he flew around and
around me in circles so close that two or three times
he almost brushed my shoulder. I never had a wild
bird so close to me before, and I could have caught
him had I tried. When I came away he followed
me all the way to the meadow. Can you explain his
strange conduct ? There was no nest in the vicinity.
Yours very truly, Etheldred B. Barry.

Note by Editor. — Olive Thorne Miller, in " Nest-
ing Time," writes of " calming anxious parent birds
by addressing them in their own language," while
admitting that she does not know the import of the
sounds she utters, and Miss Barry's little adventure
with the indigo bird lends confirmation to the view
that it is possible to acquire a greater or less com-
mand of bird language. Birds have probably utter-
ances capable of giving expression to every emotion
which they experience, and it requires a person of

delicate ear and good vocal organs to reproduce anj-
of these sounds with such measure of fidelity as the
parrot attains to in the utterance of words. But so
much achieved, the presumption is that certain
favored people may surpass the parrots, and by care-
ful observation be able to determine the sentiments
conveyed by the sounds they employ, and actually
engage in conversation with birds. Miss Barry is
one of the most earnest workers of the Audubon
.Society, and now that her attention has been
directed to the study of bird language, we may hope
that even if she do not acquire "Charley's" facility
of discourse, she will, nevertheless, acquire a good,
practical knowledge, and afford us an opportunity
some day of publishing her translations of avian
dialogues.

CLEVER BIRDS.

One morning when my little sister was walking
with mamma, she found a lettuce bird in the path.
It had evidently fallen from the nest, but they could
not see where it was, and fearing the bird would be
killed if it were left in the road, mamma told Bessie
she might bring it home, and, as it was a seed-eating
bird, they hoped to be able to raise it in the cage
with the canary bird.

She carried the little thing home and put it in the
canary's cage, which hung in the shady front porch.
In a little while we heard a commotion among the
birds, and hurrying into the porch we saw a pretty
sight. Two full grown lettuce birds, evidently the
parents of the one in the cage, were fluttering about
the bars with some food for their baby. He was
standing on the perch, and seemed afraid to try to
fly down; so the canary flew down, took the seeds
from the old birds, and carried them to the little
one. They did this ses'eral times.

The next day Bessie met a small boy who had
another yellow bird, about the size of the one she
had found the day before, apparently one of the
same brood. She bought it from him for five cents,
and carried the frightened birdling tenderly home
and put it with the caged birds. After that for two
days the parent birds came at daylight and flew in
and out until dark, feeding the two young ones.

On the third day the male bird came alone, and
we feared the little mother had been killed. After
about a week, however, she came again, bringing
with her a third bird about the size of our two pets.
It seemed clear that, after trying to care for the
divided family together, the intelligent birds had
agreed that the father should take care of the caged

The Audubon Note Book.

175

birds, while the mother tended the lonely birdling in
the nest until it was able to fly, when she brought it
to visit its brother and sister. They were all by this
time old enough to fly, so, although we grieved to
part from our little friends, we determined to reward
the wise and loving parents by giving their children
the freedom all birds love so well. We opened tlie
cage door, and after a few timid twitters and flutters,
the young birds flew out, and the re-united family
flew away in the sweet summer air. As for the can-
ary, virtue had to be its own reward, but it seemed
to satisfy him, for he followed his departing guests
■with a beautiful burst of song. — H. H. Daingerfield
in the Siviss Cross.

PREDATORY BIRDS.

Every disciple of Audubon knows how much
the birds about country houses are usually frightened
by the discharge of a gun, but probably there are a
good many of those disciples who never saw a bird
show real pleasure when a gun was fired. The
nests of three robins can be found within five rods
of my house, besides a number of nests of swallows,
bluebirds, ground birds, etc., and I have in conse-
quence been very careful about doing anything that
would tend to frighten the old birds. That they
appreciate kindly attentions has been amply demon-
strated by their freedom in approaching not only
members of my own family, but neighbors and
strangers also who have called on us.

But the other day a crow blackbird came into a
maple where one of my robins had a nest, determ-
ined, I suppose, to destroy the eggs. The black
rascal had been there before, but he had been driven
away by the robins every time. This time he
avoided attack by hopping from limb to limb instead
of leaving the tree. The robins were in great dis-
tress. They flew hither and thither, screaming with
anxiety and anger, and dashed at the enemy with a
courage and vigor that ought to have whipped him
quickly but did not. Seeing that the nest of a song
bird was in danger, my boy, a lad of eleven, ran for
his rifle, and by a lucky shot brought the blackbird to
the ground. The projectile cut across the backbone
of the bird and "tumbled," making a terrible scream-
ing noise as it flew off over the field beyond.

Did the robins fly away in alarm at all that noise?
Not at all. On the contrary. The mother bird
went at once to the nest, while the male began such
a cheerful song that it would have been a dull ear
indeed that did not hear words of thanks in it.

Was it wrong to kill the blackbird? I do not
think so. Every one knows that there is a deadly
war between different sorts of birds, although one
may scarcely call it a war when the aggression is all
•on one side. On the one side we find crows, crow

blackbirds, bluejays, owls and hawks; on the other
side song birds. I do not care for the purpose of
this argument, whether the predatory birds do the
farmers any good by killing vermin or not. I do
know the song birds are destroyed, both while in
the &<g% and afterward, by the predatory birds.
Suppose a crow does eat insect eggs on the meadow,
would not the song birds which one crow destroys
in a season do the farmer much more good ? Surely
to remain neutral is to encourage the destruction of
song birds.

I do not wish to advocate the indiscriminate
slaughter of any sort of predatory birds, but having
read so many appeals for the lives of predatory
birds I cannot help urging bird lovers to exercise
their chivalrous instincts if not their common sense,
and occasionally take the side of the weak against
the strong. John R. Spears.

Note by Editor. — Every effort on man's part to
defend the weak against the strong is an interference
with the conditions by which the existing balance of
life is maintained, and may possibly have results
widely different from what were anticipated. Nature
is regardless of the individual but careful of the
species, and as regards singing birds which tend to
multiply rapidly, the checks imposed on that tend-
ency by predatory birds is necessary to save them
from constantly increasing beyond the limits of their
food supply, a condition of things which would en-
tail far more suffering, and render life far less toler-
able and happy for them than it is under existing
conditions. Predatory birds enjoy life themselves,
and contribute to the sum of its enjoyment by those
on which they prey. At the same time these gen-
eral considerations need not always influence our
conduct in individual cases. The existing balance
of life is being constantly modified by the progress
of settlement, which favors some families at the
expense of others, and it is only when organized
and systematic efforts are taken for the eradica-
tion of particular species or genera of birds that we
may anticipate grave evils from the disturbance of
the machinery by which the balance of life is re-
adjusted to new conditions.

Song of the Prairie Lark. — In a recent num-
ber of the American Magazine appears an interest-
in article under the above title from the pen of Mr.
Ernest E. Thompson. The western meadowlark
has hitherto had scant justice done to his powers of
song, but Mr. Thompson not only fully describes
this liquid melody but has written it out in musical
notation so that any one may reproduce it on an in-
strument. The article is illustrated by two figures
from Mr. Thompson's pencil.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION.

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass., )
2nd mo., 20, 1886. )

Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier,

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 18S6.
Editor Forest and Stream :

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation .of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

Cornwall-on-Hudson, N. Y.,
f>b. 22, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886,
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society. Yery sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, )
New York, Feb. 20, 1S86. )
Editor Forest and Stream :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful tliat such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C, Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE FORK-TAILED FLYCATCHER.

( Mikmhis lyrannus (LiNX.) )

The Audubon Magazine

Vol. II.

OCTOBER, 1888.

No. 9.

THE FORK-TAILED FLYCATCHER.

YOU will readily see if you glance at
the plate on the opposite page whence
this bird derives its name. It is by no
means a familiar bird, and probably few
of our readers, except those who live in the
extreme Southwest, have ever seen one.
There, however, they are abundant enough,
and have much the same habits as our well-
known kingbird. It is really a bird of the
tropics, and is found in Mexico, but only
accidentally north of that Republic, al-
though Audubon reports having observed
it in Louisiana and Kentucky, and both
he and Bonaparte speak of specimens taken
in New Jersey.

The Fork-tailed Flycatcher belongs to
the family Tyrannidcz, a large group of birds
found only in America, and most abundant
near the equator. The name is taken from
the Greek word rv' pavvoi, which means
a ruler or sovereign. It is the same word
that gives us our English word tyrant, but
the original has no bad sense, while tyrant,
as we use it, always conveys the idea of op-
pression. If we remember the habits of
our own little kingbird, which is also one of
the Tyraniiidce, we can see how applicable
the family name is to some members of this
group. There are over four hundred cur-
rent species, of which, probably, two-thirds
are valid, the others being either slight
varieties or else mere synonyms.

The Tyrant Flycatchers of the United'
States have ten primaries or quill feathers
on the outer joint of the wing. The tail
consists of twelve feathers usually nearly
even, but sometimes, as in the case in the
present species, deeply forked. The feet
are small and weak, only fitted for perching.
The bill is broad, much flattened at the
base and turned down at its tip, and
there is usually a notch just behind this
hook. The nostrils are small, circular in
shape and placed at the base of the bill,
" and are overhung by bristles. The mouth
is large, opening back nearly or quite to
the eyes, and bordered by long hairs or
bristles. The bill is extensively hollow, and
very light and resonant, and when snapped
makes quite a loud, clicking noise. As has
been often remarked, this large, light bill
and capacious mouth bordered by bristles
is admirably adapted for the capture of fly-
ing insects. Besides the Tyrant Flycatchers
are swift of wing, and active enough in
pursuit to follow each twist and turn of the
insects that are seeking to escape them.
They may be readily recognized by their
flight, and above all by their habit of perch-
ing to await the approach of their prey,
and then darting out, seizing it and return-
ing to the same perch again. The snapping
of the bill can often be heard while they are
doing this.

i8o

The Fork-Tailed FlycatcJicr.

As the Flycatchers are dependent alto-
gether upon insect food they are in these
latitudes always migratory, disappearing
early in the autumn and returning with the
first warm weather of spring. The Pewee,
si) common about every farmhouse, is the
first of the Flycatchers to make its appear-
ance, often reaching Connecticut by the
middle of March, when the snow is on the
ground. They have no powers of song,
their calls being for the most part limited to
a harsh scream or twitter, yet one species
has a very soft and plaintive note.

The sexes are usually alike in color,
though in one species found along our
southwestern border, the male is brilliantly
colored while the female is quite dull.

Although the Tyrant Flycatchers are as a
rule plain and sober in the colors of their
plumage, there are some exceptions to this
rule, among which m^iy be noted the so-
called " bird of paradise " of Texas, a bird
which in shape and size resembles the Fork-
tailed Flycatcher, but which is much more
beautiful in color. It has the same long,
forked tail, which is sometimes ten inches
long, and is hoary gray above and pure
white beneath, while the flanks are washed
with delicate salmon pink, which extends
to the lower tail coverts and the tail feathers
themselves. The crown patch and the
feathers at the insertion of the wings are
bright scarlet. This brilliant bird is com-
mon in Texas and to the southward in
Mexico and in Central America.

So much may be said by way of intro-
duction to a very interesting group of birds
of which some examples must be familiar
to every one of us, for to it belongs the
kingbird, famed for his courage, the phoebe,
builder of mud nests in caves, under rock
ledge and in barns, and the smaller Fly-
catchers, who dwell more in the woods, and
so are less well known to those who do not

make a study of our birds. Miss Florence
A. Merriam, in her series of charming
sketches, entitled " Fifty Common Birds
and How to Know Them," published in
earlier numbers of this magazine, has
brought out many of the characteristic habits
of the TyrannidcE.

The Fork-tailed Flycatcher reminds us in
many of its habits of our own well-known
kingbird. Like it, and, indeed, like all
members of this group, it is very courageous,
and does not hesitate to attack birds of prey
which may venture to approach its nest. In
its flight when in pursuit of insects it uses
its long tail as a rudder to aid it in making
quick turns, and like other Flycatchers it
frequently vibrates the tail when it alights.

Although its food consists chiefly of in-
sects, it does not altogether disdain fruits
and berries, but like the kingbird seems to
enjoy a varied fare. The stomach of the
specimen secured by Bonaparte in New
Jersey was found to be full of pone berries.

The actual bulk of the Fork-Tailed Fly-
catcher is only about that of the kingbird,
but the great length of its tail feathers
make its measurements very different. It is
fourteen and a quarter inches long, and has
a spread of wings of fourteen inches. The
outer tail feathers are sometimes ten inches
long, while the middle ones measure but two
and a half. The head and cheeks are black,
the feathers of the crown being yellow at
the base, but this patch is concealed, except
when the crest is erected. The back is
ashy gray, becoming darker toward the
rump. The wings are blackish brown, the
feathers being margined with gray, and the
tail is of the same color, except the outer
web of the long feather on each side, which
for half its length from the body is white.
The under parts are white, the bill and feet
black, and the eye brown. The male and
female are alike in plumage.

ALEXANDER WILSON.

WILSON having found a publisher for
his long contemplated work, threw
all his energies into the enterprise, devoting
to it every moment that he could spare
from his duties as editor of the Cyclopedia;
and his friend Lawson, who had previously
thrown so much cold water on the enter-
prise, saw the matter in quite a different
light now that Mr. Bradford had assumed
the risks and employed him as printer.
Two thousand five hundred copies were to
be thrown off as a first edition, and a pros-
pectus having been composed it ,was given
to the press, and Wilson in his enthusiasm
already contemplated the establishment of
an agent " in almost every town of the
Union."

The hard work of preparation, added to
his daily routine duties, impaired his health,
compelling him to occasional periods of re-
la.xation. These he utilized by excursions
to the country, which he enjoyed the more
that his professional duties were sedentary
and exhausting, "immersed," as he de-
scribes himself "among musty books, and
compelled to forego the harmony of the
woods."

"At length," writes Mr. Ord, "in the
month of September, 1808, the first volume
of the 'American Ornithology' made its
appearance. From the date of the arrange-
ment with the publisher a prospectus had
been issued wherein the nature and intended
execution of the work were specified. But
yet no one appeared to entertain an ade-
quate idea of the treat which was about to
be afforded to the lovers of the fine arts,
and of elegant literature; and when the
superb volume was presented to the public
their delight was equalled only by their as-
tonishment that America, as yet in its in-
fancy, should produce an original work in
science which could vie in its essentials

with the proudest productions of a similar
nature of the European world."

It was a proud moment for Wilson when
the first volume issued from the press, and
met with a reception which his biographer
tells us "was far beyond his hopes." It was,
perhaps, far beyond the hopes which he
ventured to express openly, but a man of
Wilson's sanguine temperament could not
have failed to have indulged in the most
extravagant hopes; at the same time in-
dulgence in hopes does not necessarily in-
volve confidence in their realization, and
the favor with which the first volume was
received created a pleasurable excitement
which stimulated him to most exhaustive
efforts for the creditable performance of his
undertaking. He thought he could increase
subscriptions at a distance by his presence
and personal exertions, and decided to
make a first tour of the New England States
in pursuit of subscribers and birds, with
which object he set out on the 21st of Sep-
tember, 1808, going by Boston to Maine,
and back through the State of Vermont.

The records of this and of his numerous
later journeys are best preserved in his cor-
respondence, in which he embodied the most
careful observations of all he saw, inter-
spersed with his reflections, thus affording
an insight not only into the progress of the
work, but into his own character and moods.
We shall draw freely on these letters, as it
would be impossible to present him in a
more natural light than he presents himself
in them, but as they are for the most part
spun out to great length we will content
ourselves with giving extracts from them.

The first letter of the series was dated
Boston, October 12, 1808, and addressed
to Mr. Miller. It reads as follows:

" Dear Sir: I arrived hear on Sunday last
after various adventures, the particulars of

1.82

A lex a nder Wilson.

which, and the observations I have had
leisure to make upon the passing scenery
around me, I shall endeavor as far as pos-
sible to compress into this letter for your
own satisfaction and that of my friends who
may be interested for my welfare. At
Princeton I bade my fellow travelers good-
by, as I had to wait upon the reverend doc-
tors of the college.

" I took my book under my arm, put sev-
eral copies of the prospectus into my pocket,
and walked up to this spacious sanctuary of
literature. Dr. Smith, the President, and
Dr. McLean, Professer of Natural History,
were the only two I found at home. The
latter invited me to tea, and both were much
surprised and pleased at the appearance of
the work. I expected to receive some valu-
able information from Mr. McLean on the
ornithology of the country, but I soon found
to my astonishment that he scarcely knew
a sparrow from a woodpecker. I visited sev-
eral other literary characters, and about
half-past eight the Pilot coming up I took
my passage in it to New Brunswick, which
we reached about midnight.

" The next morning was spent in visiting
the few gentlemen who were likely to
patronize my undertaking. I had another
task of the same kind at Elizabethtown;
and without tiring you with details that
Avould fill a volume, I shall only say that I
reached Newark that day, having gratified
the curiosity and feasted the eyes of a great
number of people, who repaid me with the
most extravagant compliments, which I
would have very willingly exchanged for a
few simple subscriptions. I spent nearly
the whole of Saturday in Newark, where
my book attracted as many starers as a
bear or a mammoth would have done, and
I arrived in New York the same evening.
The next day I wrote a number of letters, in-
closing copies of the prospectus to different
gentlemen in town, and on the afternoon of
Tuesday I took my book, and waited on
•each of these gentlemen to whom I had

written the preceding day. Among these I
found some friends, but more admirers.
The professors of Columbia College ex-
pressed much esteem for my performance.
The professor of languages being a Scotch-
man and also a Wilson, seemed to feel all
the pride of national partiality so common
to his countrymen, and would have done me
every favor in his power. I spent the whole
of this week traversing the streets from one
particular house to another, till, I believe,
I became almost as well known as the pub-
lic cryer, or the clerk of the market; for I
frequently could perceive gentlemen point
me out to others as I passed with my book
under my arm.

" On Sunday morning, October 2, I went
aboard a packet for New Haven, distant
about ninety miles. The wind was favor-
able. The Sound here between Long
Island and the main is narrowed to less than
half a mile, and filled with small islands and
numerous rocks under water, among which
the tide roars and boils violently, and has
proved fatal to many a seaman. At high
water it is nearly as smooth as any other
flow, and can then be safely passed. The
country on the New York side is orna-
mented with handsome villas painted white
and surrounded by great numbers of Lom-
bardy poplars. The breeze increasing to a
gale, in eight hours from the time we set
sail the high, red-fronted mountain of New
Haven rose to our view. In two hours
more we landed, and by the stillness and
solemnity of the streets recollected we were
in New England, and that it was Sunday,
which latter circumstance had been almost
forgotten on board the packet boat. * * *
" The literati of New Haven received me
with politeness and respect; and after mak-
ing my usual rounds which occupied a day
and a half, I set off for Middleton, twenty-
two miles distant. * * * I waited on Mr.
A. of this town, and by him was introduced
to several others. He also furnished irie
with a good deal of information about the

Alexander IVzlson.

183

birds of New England. He is a great
sportsman, a man of fortune and education,
and has a considerable number of stuffed
birds, some of which he gave me, besides
letters to several persons of influence in
Boston. On reaching Hartford I waited on
Mr. G., a member of Congress, who recom-
mended me to several others, particularly a
Mr. W., a gentleman of taste and fortune,
who was extremely obliging. The pub-
lisher of a newspaper here expressed the
highest admiration of the work, and has
since paid many handsome compliments to
it in his publication, as three other editors
did in New York. This is a species of cur-
rency that will neither purchase plates nor
pay the printer, but, nevertheless, it is grati-
fying to the vanity of an author when noth-
ing better can be got. * * * j^ ^^^
dark when I entered Boston, of which I
shall give you some account in my next. I
have visited the celebrated Bunker's Hill,
and no devout pilgrim ever approached the
sacred tomb of his holy prophet with more
awful enthusiasm and profound veneration
than I felt in tracing the grass-grown in-
trenchments of this hallowed spot made im-
mortal by the bravery of those heroes who
defended it — whose ashes are now mingled
with its soil, and of whom a mean, beggarly
pillar of bricks is all the memento."

His next letter to the same gentleman is
dated Windsor, Vermont, October 26. He
remained nearly a week in Boston journey-
ing through the streets with his book, and
visiting all the literary characters he could
meet with. Thence he traveled on through
New Hampshire, stopping at every place
where he thought it was likely he would do
any business, going as far as Portland,
Maine, where he staid three days. Here
he directed his course across country
"among dreary savage glens, and moun-
tains covered with pines and hemlocks, amid
whose black and half burnt trunks the ever-
lasting rocks and stones grinned horribly."
A journey of one hundred and fifty-seven

miles brought him to Dartmouth College,
New Hampshire, on the Vermont line, here
he paid his addresses to the reverend fathers
of literature, and appears to have been very
well received. " Dr. Wheelock, the Presi-
dent of the college," he tells us, " made me
eat at his table, and the professors vied
with each other to oblige me."

"I expect," he continued, "to be in
Albany in five days, and if the Legislature
be sitting I shall be detained perhaps three
days there. In eight days more I hope to
be in Philadelphhia. I have labored with
the zeal of a knight-errant in exhibiting this
book of mine, wherever I went, traveling
with it, like a beggar with his bantling, from
town to town, and from one country to an-
other. I have been loaded with praises,
with compliments and with kindnesses;
shaken almost to pieces in stage coaches;
I have wandered among strangers hearing
the same oh's and ah's, and telling the
same story a thousand times over, and for
what? Aye, that's it! You are very anxious
to know, and shall know the whole when I
reach Philadelphia."

In a letter to Mr. Alexander Lawson,
written during this visit to Albany, he
writes: "And in the first place I ought to
thank you for the thousands of compliments
I have received for my birds from persons
of all descriptions, which were chiefly due
to the tact and skill of the engravers. In
short the book in all its parts so far exceeds
the ideas and expectations of the first lit-
erary characters in the eastern sections of
the United States as to command their ad-
miration and respect. The only objection
has been the price of one hundred and
twenty dollars, which in innumerable in-
stances has risen like an evil genius between
me and my hopes. Yet, I doubt not, but
when those copies subscribed for are deliv-
ered, and the book a little better known, the
whole number will be disposed of; and per°
haps encouragement given to go on with the
rest. To effect this, to me, most desirable

1 84

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

object, I have encountered the fatigues of a
long, circuitous and expensive journey, with
a zeal which has increased with increasing
difficulties; and sorry I am to say that the
whole number of subscribers which I have
obtained amounts only to forty-one."

Wilson remained at home only a few days
when he again set off on a journey through
the South, visiting every town of importance
as far as Savannah in the State of Georgia,
during which journey he suffered consider-
ably from the inclemency of the weather.

and from the fatigue of the journey, but he
was gratified by it, having, as we find from
a letter to Mr, Bartram, written on the eve
of his departure from Savannah, gained his
point in procuring two hundred and fifty
subscibers in all for his Ornithology, and a
great mass of information respecting the
birds that winter in the Southern States, and
some that never visit the Middle States;
"information," he adds, "which I have
derived personally, and can, therefore, the
more certainly depend upon it."

CHARLEY'S WONDERFUL JOURNEYS,

JOURNEY X.

Here he comes," said one of the little
Bears. " Now keep quiet, and
he'll walk right into the trap."

And sure enough poor Charley walked
right into it. There was nothing unusual
looking with the grass, but as soon as
Charley got his foot into it he was tripped
up and fell forward on his hands. The
next moment the two little Bears pounced
on him from behind and caught him one
by each arm.

" See if he has any guns or knives," said
one of them excitedly, as they raised
Charley to a standing posture.

" I haven't any guns or knives," said
Charley. " I wouldn't kill anybody, and I
don't want to hurt you, but I wish you
would let me go, please."

The Bears looked at each other, delighted
at hearing that Charley could talk. " Can
you dance, too?" asked one of them.

"Yes," said Charley, "I went to a Bear
party once, but, please don't hold my arms
so tight, you hurt me."

" But won't you run away if we let go ? "
,asked one of the Bears.

" I'll tell you," said the other, " let's
make a rope, and tie him round the waist,
and then he can't run away."

So one of the Bears held Charley, while
the other made a grass rope, and tied it
round his waist. " Now let us see you
dance," said he.

"If you dance nicely," said the other,
" you shall have a whole can of black-
berries by and by."

So Charley began to dance, and the
Bears held their sides and laughed till the
tears ran down.

Then one of them asked him to show
how he ran on all fours, and Charley did
his best, he didn't think he did it very well,
but the Bears laughed and shouted and
fairly rolled over and over with delight.

" Oh, isn't this fun," said one, " we'll
take him all through the woods and exhibit
him everywhere, and make lots of money;
let's take him home first and show him to
the old folks."

"Oh, let him ride on me," said the other,
" we'll go home with Charley riding on my
back, and won't the old folks be astonished
when they see us! "

When they got to the cave, the old dad
Bear was lazily stretched on a rock sunning
himself, and you may imagine his surprise
when he saw his two cubs coming home
with Charley riding one of them.

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

185

" Whatever have you got there ? " said he,
springing to his feet.

"Call mam," said the cubs; "we set a
trap in the grass and caught a little man
cub."

" Take him away," said the old she Bear,
when she came out, " you shan't bring him
in here, they are dangerous creatures to
have anything to do with."

"Oh, this one isn't dangerous," said
they, " he can talk and dance, and he's

go and show him to our cousins in the big
elm. Jump up, Charley."

Away they went up the hill, scrambling
over rock and fallen trees, down the other
side, and across the brook, and then up
into the forest where the big elm was.

When they got near, they saw two of the
young Bears playing outside, and as soon
as these saw the two Bears coming with
Charley, they rushed for the hole at the root
of the old elm, shouting "Mam — dad."

THE TWO LITTLE BEARS CAUGHT HIM ONE BY EACH ARM.

quite tame, and we're going to exhibit him
all through the woods and make lots of
money. " Get down, Charley, and let
them see how you can dance."

Charley did as he was told, and the old
Bears couldn't help laughing, and when
Charley went down on all fours and began
to run the old folks enjoyed it as much as
anybody and declared they had never seen
anything like it.

" I won't have him come in the cave,"
said the she Bear, " but you may take him
round and exhibit him if you like, but be
careful you don't get into any mischief."

" Come on," said one of the cubs, " we'll

The elm was big, but it was only an old
hollow trunk with all the branches broken
off, and the next moment Charley looked
up and there were the two old Bears, who
had climbed to the top, and were looking
down on them.

" Don't be frightened," said Charley,
" they are only exhibiting me on a dancing
tour."

" Come down, aunty," said his compan-
ions and keepers, we've caught a young
Man cub and he's quite tame, and he can
talk, and dance and go on all fours beauti-
fully."

At this the old ones scrambled down

1 86

Charley s Wondei^ftil Jouj^neys.

and came out from the lower hole, fol-
lowed by five young ones, and the story of
the capture was told all over again, and
Charley said "he didn't mind."

Then Charley began to dance, and old
and young shook their sides with laughter,
the old ones laughed till the tears ran
down their cheeks, and the young ones
rolled over and turned somersaults and
cheered until they were out of breath.

At last Charley was fairly out of breath,
too, and sat down on a log, and his captors
asked the audience for a supply of Bear's
grease to take home with them.

" We are rather short of Bear's grease
now," said the old mam, "and don't expect
to have much until after harvest, but you
young ones can all take the pails, and go
raspberrying up in the clearing."

The young ones shouted with glee, and
ran off and fetched the pails, and brought
two for their cousins, and one for Charley,
and every one wanted to have Charley ride
on his back, but Charley's captor wouldn't
trust him with any of them, so he jumped
up on his former seat and away they trotted
to the clearing, jingling their pails and
laughing and talking.

The raspberries were very plentiful, and
the Bears rushed here and there wherever
they saw them thickest, and Charley was
soon left alone. He had nearly half filled
his pail, besides eating a great many, when
he heard a fearful yell, and one of the
Bears shouting, " Help, help, I'm caught in
a trap."

" Run, run," shouted the others, and the
next moment they dashed off in all direc-
tions without thinking of Charley.

The captured Bear was still howling, and
Charley went toward him to try if he could
help, but when he came to the top of the
hill, to the place where he heard the howl-
ing, he saw the Bear with his fore paw in a
big trap, rushing down toward the brook,
and dragging after him a big log which
was tied to the trap, and as Charley looked

he saw the log jump up and knock the
bear over, and both together go rolling one
over the other down toward the brook, and
the Bear yelling savagely.

" He appears to have lost his temper,"
said Charley, "but perhaps I may as well
go down; he may like to have somebody to
talk to."

" You've been and put your foot in it
now," said the Fox as Charley reached the
scene; "you should be more careful. It's
better to walk twice round a trap than
once into it."

" Oh, stop your confounded moralizing,"
said the Bear. " I wish it was your head
in it instead of my foot. Boo-o-o-o."

" Of two evils I always choose the least,"
said the Fox; "and if you won't listen to
good advice, you must just grin and bear
it, but if you'd listen to me, you'd have
your foot out in no time. It's very painful,
isn't it ?"

"Oh, it's dreadful," said the Bear, " and
if you would help me get my foot out, I'd
be your friend for life. Come now, I know
you're a clever little fellow."

" Oh, yes," said the Fox, " you're ready
enough to make promises, but very likely
if I showed you how to get your foot out,
you'd be ready to snap my nose off the
next minute."

" Oh, no, Cousin Reynard," said the
bear. " I'm not that sort of fellow at all.
Only show me how to get my paw out and
I'll be eternally obliged to you."

"Nothing more simple," said the Fox,
just push in your nose as far as you can,
then open your jaws and pry the trap
open, and your foot will come out quite
easily."

The Bear did as he was told and drew
out his paw with a sigh of relief, but when
he tried to pull his nose out, he found he
was in a worse fix than ever and howled
and danced about with rage.

"Oh, you wretch," said he to the Fox,,
" let me only once get hold of you."

Charley'' s Wonderful Journeys.

187

" Fine gratitude tliat for showing you glad of anything for a change, and all

how to get your paw out, and it would you've got to do is to open your jaws wide,

only serve you right if I were to go off and put in both paws as far as they'll go, then

leave you in your present fix for the trapper shut your mouth and your head will come

to help you out at the price of your skin," out easily."

said the Fox; "but it's wrong to bear The Bear knew now that the Fox was

malice," continued he, "and now that laughing at him, and, setting both paws

CHARLEY WENT DOWN ON ALL FOURS AND BEGAN TO RUN.

you've got your paw out, it's just as easy
to get your nose out, if you'll only do as I
tell you."

"Oh, do tell me," said the Bear; "I
didn't mean what I said; but it hurts so.
I only wish you had your head in it for a
minute and then you'd know."

"Yes," said the Fox, with a sly wink at
Charley; "I can well believe that you'd be

upon the trap, he determined to pull his
nose out even if he pulled all the skin off,
but, more by good luck than judgment,
he got the trap upright, and placed both
paws upon the springs; to the astonish-
ment of everybody the jaws of the trap
flew open, and the released Bear went for
the grinning Fox with a bound.

The Fox turned tail like lightning; but,

Charley s Wonderfztl Joiiriieys.

alas, he was not quite quick enough; in
turning, he whisked his tail into the mouth
of the Bear, who snapped on it so viciously,
that he bit it off close to the stump, and
away went the Fox as fast as his legs could
carry him; the Bear dropped the brush and
followed at best speed, and Charley picked
it up and trotted after them to see what
would happen next.

Alas for the uncertainty of mundane
affairs! The Fox knew every trap on the
run, but in his hurry to get away from the
Bear, he never thought where he was going
until he put his foot into a trap, and rolled
over with a sharp howl.

"Well," said the Bear, as he sat down
and contemplated the Fox with a grin of
satisfaction, " of two evils it's always wise
to choose the least."

" (3h, Cousin Bruin," said the Fox, "help
me out like a good fellow. You never
would have got out if it hadn't been for
my advice, and now if you will only put
your paws upon the springs, and let me
get my foot out, I'll never forget it."

" I won't be beaten by a Fox in gener-
osity," said the Bear. " It was very foolish
of you to put your foot in it. 'Twould
have been wiser to walk twice round it
than once into it; still I must admit that
you were in a hurry, and you are welcome
to the advice I got from a very clever fel-
low when I was there myself. Just push
your nose into the trap and pry open the
jaws, and your foot will come out quite
easily."

The Fox groaned; then, suddenly be-
thinking himself of a ruse, he said: " I
know of a bee's nest full of honey not far
off, and if you'll only help me out Til take
you there at once, and you can have it all."

"So it is up a tree?" asked the Bear.

"Yes, up in a big hollow elm tree," said
the Fox, who now began to hope; "you
can get it quite easily."

"All right," said the Bear; "I'll go off
in the woods and hide till vou come. Here

comes the trapper with his Dog, and he un-
derstands these darned traps better than I
do, and you'll be glad of anything for a
change. Good-by, Cousin Reynard. Tell
me how you got along when we meet again.
By the way, how are skins selling?" and
with this parting shot away scampered the
I'ear.

Charley thought it time to go too; but
he wanted to see what would happen next,
so he went and hid behind a tree.

When the trapper came up, the Fox was
lying as still as dead. The Dog ran in and
seized him and began to shake him, but
the Fox made no sign.

" Durn that Dog," said the trapper,
" he'll spoil the skin. Down, Pincher.
Dead ! "

The trapper came up and lifted the Fox
by one ear, and then let him drop; the
Fox fell all in a heap, but the dog kept
stern watch with his nose close to the Fox's
throat.

The trapper then opened the trap and
released his leg, turned him over with his
foot, and, concluding that he was quite
dead, set the trap again, seized the Fox by
the hindlegs, swung him over his shoul-
der, and strode off to the next trap, the
one the Bear had been caught in. The
Fox opened his eyes, but the Dog was fol-
lowing close behind, ready to seize him at
the first move.

When they reached the place, the trap
was gone, and, as they passed over it, the
Dog smelt bear's blood, and the hair on
the back of his neck bristled with anger;
he got another sniff, and, for a moment
forgetting everything else, he ran off on
the Bear's trail.

Now was the Fox's opportunity! He
closed his jaws on the broadest part of the
trapper's back, and sampled it with such a
sudden snap, that the trapper yelled, and
flung him off as suddenly.

Away went the Fox as fast as he could
limp, and the Dog, recalled to duty, was

Charley s Wonderful Jourjieys.

189

soon after him. 'J"he Dog was gaining, and tore with all his might, until, seeing

but the sly Fox went for the nearest trap, the trapper running toward him, he

keeping his eyes wide open. When he thought it prudent to decamp, and went

came to it, he put down his wounded leg off with such mingled emotions as you

with a groan, and jumped over the trap. may imagine.

The next moment the Dog plunged into it. The Dog was soon released, but he had

and rolled over with a howl. no more appetite for Fox hunting that day.

YOU VE BEEN AND PUT YOUR FOOT IN IT, S.\ID THE FOX.

"Now, cousin," said the Fox, "the
tables are turned. You little thought
when you saw me in the trap just now,
that our positions would be so soon
changed, but such is life. It is laughable
when you come to think of it, but I sup-
pose I must try to help you out."

With that he sprung on the helpless Dog
and gripped him by the ham and tugged

" Will you give me your beautiful bunch
of flowers .' " asked the little girl of Charley,
as he wandered off.

Charley raised his hand, and seeing that
it was a beautiful bouquet of sweet scented
flowers that he held up, he said: "I M'ill
give them to you with pleasure if you will
show me the way home."

"I cannot go home with vou," said the

IQO

Mans Dependence on the Lozver Animals.

girl, "because you live on the other side of
the river now, but I will go with you to the
river's bank, and give you a kiss which will
put you to sleep here, and then you will
wake again directly at home."

So Charley gave her the flowers and
placed his liand in hers, and they wandered
off together toward the river, through
meadows in which flowers of the most
beautiful colors and richest perfume were
as thick as the green grass which formed a
setting for them. Their feet hardly seemed
to touch the rich carpet as they glided
over it.

At last they came to the river, a broad
bright shining river, and sat down on the
green bank where the murmur of the water
soothed Charley's senses, and made him
feel as if it would be so nice to go to sleep
there, with the girl's hand in his

" Let me kiss you now, Charley," said
she, and as she bent over him, and he
looked into her blue eves, and felt the

tresses upon his cheek, he knew her again.
"It is Ethel," he said. "Ethel with the
golden locks, shall I ever see you again ? "

He fell asleep before she could reply,
but he woke again in an instant, and was
sure he heard her retreating footsteps, but
when he opened his eyes, he was at home
in bed, and the sound he heard was his
mother's footsteps outside the door.

"Oh, mother," said he, "I've seen Ethel
again! Ethel with the golden locks, and
1 didn't know her until she put her arms
about me and was going to give me a kiss,
and then I asked her if I should ever see
her again, and before she had time to an-
swer I fell asleep."

" Perhaps some day," said his mother,
" you will see her on this side the river, and
when she puts her arms around you and
gives you a kiss, you will know her again,
and be able to keep her always with you."

" I wish she went to my school,'' said

Charley.

C. F. Amerv.

MAN'S DEPENDENCE ON THE LOWER ANIMALS

IN the Audubon Magazine for May,
1887, in an article under the title of
"The Earth Puilders," we took up the posi-
tion that man could never have lived upon
the earth but for the pre-existence of the
lower types of life that preceded him, the
general tenor of the argument employed
being that the soil on which man is depen-
dent for his food owes its fertility, and in
great part its substance, to the decomposed
animal and vegetable remains of past ages;
that in the absence of such animal and
vegetable remains in the soil, there could
be no grasses, nor cereals, nor forest, grow-
ing on its surface, and no food for man or
beast.

The earth was no doubt fitted for man's
residence long before his first appearance,
but notwithstanding that man is so far su-

perior to all other animals in intelligence,
he was less fitted to supply his most press-
ing needs than almost any other animal.
Even as a hunter he would have had a
very sorry time, unless the dog had come
to his assistance, and attached itself to
him. But the purpose of the present ar-
ticle is to point out that man could not only
never have reached any very high stage of
civilization without the aid of the ox, the
ass, the horse, or some other powerful ani-
mal, but what to many will appear still less
credible, that we Americans of the nine-
teenth century, having risen to our present
high stage of civilization and industrial
development by the aid of the ox and
horse, are still so dependent on them, that
in spite of the enormous resources at our
command, our civilization would not sur-

Mmis Dependence on the Lower Animals.

191

vive their annihilation; that with the dis-
appearance of domestic cattle the great
civilizations of the world would disappear,
and existing society disintegrate into
tribes which would sink to a very low level,
from which they would again emerge to
achieve a civilization comparable with that
of the Incas of Peru at the date of the
Spanish invasion.

Yes! it is a big debt that 'man owes to
the domesticated animals! and especially
to the ox, and if we could only justly esti-
mate the extent of the obligation, we should
see that it was not without good reason

though the sowing of rice may have ori-
ginated with broadcast sowings over areas
liable to inundations, the tilling of the soil
commenced by dropping each grain separ-
ately in a little hole made with a stick,
from which an advance was made to the
pick-shaped branch as a more effective
implement, which may have been in use
for centuries before it suggested itself to
any one to take a much larger branch and
drag it through the soil by means of oxen.
Civilization may be said to rest on the
practical application of this idea, for as
long as man was dependent for his crops-

A PRIMITIVK PLOW.

that the ancient Egyptians elevated the
bull to the rank of a divinity, and that
the Hindoos regarded the slaughter of
an ox as an offense heinous as- that of
murder.

The plowing of the earliest agricul-
tural people was with very rude imple-
ments. The Hindoo plow of to-day has
retained its primitive form; the Egyptian
is not appreciably modified; the same sim-
ple primitive plow may even still be seen
in some parts of Germany, and a very little
study of it will suffice to show that both it
and the pick originated in the branch of a
tree trimmed of all its secondary branches
but two spurs which were left, one to pene-
trate and loosen the soil, the other to hold
and guide it by.

There is little room for doubt that al-

on the work of his own hands, the labor
exacted of him would have been so ex-
hausting that there would have been no
leisure for devotion to the useful arts, and
under such conditions population could
never become dense or highly civilized.
The people of Europe and Asia, unaided
by domestic cattle, would never have
achieved a higher civilization than the
people of America. It is generally sup-
posed that nstive American races are of
lower type, but there is a great mass of
evidence in support of the view that in
some remote past a colony from the old
world (perhaps of men only) established
itself about the northern coast of South
America, giving origin to the semi-civiliza-
tions of Mexico and Peru, and by inter-
mixture with aboriginal races, perhaps in-

192

Mans Dependence on the Lower Animals.

fluencing the social condition of the whole
continent North and South, and of all the
facts that have been advanced in support
of this theory I do not think that any one
is so conclusive as the fact that the Peru-
vians dragged their plough through the
soil instead of using it as a pick. They
could not do nearly as effective work in this
way as by digging, and such a method of
loosening the soil would never have sug-
gested itself to any people who had not
grown familiar with it as the one recognized
method of tillage.

Europe, like America, had its aboriginal
savage races over its whole area before
the Aryans effected settlements, and in
every country in Europe the Aryan race
has been modified by intermixture, and
the difference between the civilization of
Europe and that of Central America at the
time of the Spanish invasion was no more
than — on the assumption of equal aptitude
for civilization — might be fairly attributed
to the fact that the former people had
domesticated the ox and the horse, while
the latter had not. The history of the
world affords no instance of a higher civi-
lization than that of early America having
been achieved by any people who had not
the ox under domestication. These are
truths that would be readily accepted by
any one giving the subject even a very
slight consideration, but it does appear al-
most incredible at first glance, that Chris-
tendom deprived of its domestic cattle,
would sink into barbarism in a generation;
that in spite of our command of steam, and
control of the forces of nature, we are not
yet so far advanced that we dare kick
away the ladder by which we have mounted.

The first idea to suggest itself is that
the loss of our draught cattle which would
be most felt by the farmers would be
promptly replaced by steam ploughs and
implements of all kinds, that we could run
light railways in all directions to get the
engines and implements to the farms, and

bring the products away, but a very little
calculation will serve to upset that delusion.
The whole manual labor of the country
would be inadequate to the construction
and maintenance of the necessary railways,
and this of course would involve an utter
suspension of manufactures and arts, and
the desertion of the cities, which would
render the railways useless; this would be
followed by the establishment of local com-
munities, cessation of all intercourse be-
tween people at a distance, and the rapid
lapse into a a simple agricultural commun-
ity, attended with enormous loss of life
from starvation unless at the outset strenu-
ous and well organized measures were
adopted for cutting up the arable land into
small farms of one or two acres, transport-
ing the city population to them and pro-
viding for the proper distribution of food
and seed.

It is just possible that the social organi-
zation could be maintained over the crisis,
provided the effects of the calamity were
foreseen and intelligently provided for, but
this achieved, the organism would be dis-
integrated into a thousand separate com-
munities with individual and opposing
interests; and perhaps generations of an-
archy would have to be passed through
before any enduring system of social or-
ganization would be again achieved. Nine-
tenths of the population would have to be
devoted exclusively to agriculture, the
other tenth being employed in mining and
the ruder arts; and as existing stocks of
manufactured articles got worn out they
would be replaced by ruder ones. Letters
would be forgotten in a generation or two,
in fact, all the energies of the people would
1)6 required to raise the necessary food
supply, and a few centuries later the civili-
zation of the nineteenth century would be
a dim tradition of the past.

It is well within the range of possibility
that with the progress of man's control
over the forces of nature, and the advance

The Song Sparrow.

193

of chemical science, man may achieve a
position of complete independence of any
aid that the lower animals may be able to
render him. The day may possibly come
when man will people the earth so densely
that the beast must go to make room for
him. These are speculations only, mean-

time it is a substantial fact, and a whole-
some one to meditate upon, when we meet
an ox or a horse in the street, that they
are our powerful auxiliaries in the rude
contest with nature, and stand between us
and a condition but little removed from
barbarism.

THE SONG SPARROW.

AN INVESTIGATION OF HIS LIFE HISTORY.

WITH a view to suggesting lines of
investigation to those would-be
workers who do not go the length of styling
themselves ornithologists, these notes con-
taining the subject matter of an address re-
cently delivered at the Canadian Institute,
were put in their present shape.

The rapid advance of ornithological
science in our country during the last few
years, and the systematic organization of
the great body of working ornithologists of
America, have had the satisfactory effect not
only of stimulating the interest felt in the
subject by that snowball process of incre-
ment that is a property of all knowledge,
but also of demonstrating clearly to the lay
following that all who have eyes may be of
use, and all who would be of great use
must keep their eyes in one direction.

Now, with any one who for the first time
sees a new or unknown object, the three
questions that naturally arise are: What is
it ? W^here did you get it ? and What is it for ?
/. e., we are asked its name, native place
and nature; and it is the whole province of
each branch of zoological science to answer
these three questions with regard to its
individual subjects. Or to illustrate to the
point, ornithology treats of birds and is
supposed to supply the student, first, with
the name of each bird; second with infor-
mation about its country or habitat; third

with information of its nature, which in-
cludes two very wide fields, the physical
and the metaphysical, or anatomy and life
history. The first of these questions, the
which ?, can be answered only by authorities
profoundly versed in the subject, and the
Check List of the American Ornithologist's
Union contains the united opinions of the
competent authorities of America.

The second question, the where ?, com-
prising the whole subject of geographical
distribution and migration, is partly an-
swered already with regard to most of our
birds. As it can be properly treated only
by persons who have large collections of
material at hand, and have given a great
deal of time and study to the subject, here
also it is better for the lay bird man to re-
frain from " rushing in."

But the last question, the what.', is the
greatest of all. It naturally divides itself
into two branches, anatomy and life history.
With regard to the first, much the same re-
marks apply as in the preceding paragraph,
but the second, the life history, is the most
important, and affords the proper field for
those who simply love nature for her own
sake, and desire only to know the wild birds
in their wildness. "The real history of a
bird is its life history. The deepest interest
attaches to everything that reveals the little
mind, however feebly it may be developed,

194

The Song Spai'row.

which hes behind the feathers." So says
the English ornithologist Seebohm, in his
Histor}' of British Birds, and I am very sure
that there is no lack of bird lovers to re-echo
the sentiment. The first two questions are
of very great importance, and of such a
nature that they insist on first notice, but
having settled them as we now have, suf-
ficiently for the purposes of the ordinary
observer of Eastern America, we are
brought face to face with what is, after all,
of chief interest, the great question of the
"little mind."

The almost absolute ignorance that exists
with regard to the life history of our birds
is only beginning to be appreciated. We
have, in fact, as a result of great labors
during the last few years, only just suc-
ceeded in obtaining enough light to make
the darkness visible. To show our utter
nescience with regard to even the best
known species, I would take for example
the bird of all others we are supposed to be
perfectly familiar with, the common barn
fowl. How many of us can prove or dis-
prove the simplest statements that can be
made concerning it ? How many can decide
on the theory that a hen beginning to lay,
lays on the first day early in the morning,
next day an hour later, and so on until after-
noon is reached, then a day is missed, and
on the next day the bird begins again early
in the morning ? How many of us can con-
tradict the statement that the hen is capable
of real and faithful attachment to one par-
ticular male, even though several be in the
yard ? Which of us can say when and why
the hen turns her eggs, or whether she
knowingly turns them at all? It would be
easy to go on exposing our ignorance, but
sufficient has been said for my purpose, and
I would now follow with the remark, if we
know so little of our familiar domestic
fowls, how insignificant must be our know-
ledge of the wild birds. I am so satisfied
that a harvest of knowledge and pleasure
awaits those who will venture into this

almost virgin field, that I have determined
to spend one season at least in investigating
the life history of a single species, and to
the end that I may approach the subject
systematically, I have tabulated the lines
of investigation under seventeen heads
These heads, be it noticed, are naturally
limited by the knowledge and theories of
the writer, but I believe that in working
them out one will most assuredly stumble
on clues which, properly followed, will lead
to light most unexpected, and to ideas of
startling newness that have not even been
guessed at by the preliminary schedule, for
such has ever been the experience of those
who have blindly but earnestly groped after
the truth.

For numerous reasons, more or less
evident, I have selected the song sparrow
[Melospiza fasciata) as the species for study,
and propose collecting all possible evidence
on the following items:

1 . Spring Migration. — Give earliest appear-

ance, etc.; state whether in flocks or
singly; males in advance or both sexes
together; by day or by night; crossing
the lake or skirting its shores; flying
high or low; recording in full the
weather at the time of observation, also
date, locality, etc. Does it hide or re-
turn southward during the late spring
storms? Do individuals that come
early differ from those that come late?
If so, are both found breeding here?

2. Habitat. — Is it found in dry uplands,

dense forests or marshes, or does it
manifest a preference for the vicinity of
water, or especially of running water?
Can any reason be assigned for its
choice of locality?

3. Voice of the Male. — Song and the varia-

tions of the same; height from ground
when singing; time of day; alarm notes,
song periods, song flight, song by
night; influence of the weather.

4. Voice of the Female. — Song, if any, and

full particulars as above.

The Song Sparrow,

195

5. Habits. — What are its peculiar tricks of

attitude, motion and expression ? Does
it hop or run ? Is its flight ever un-
dulatory, like that of its relatives? Is
it nocturnal or aquatic at all? Does it
ever wade for food or swim to escape
its enemies ? Does it feed on the wing ?
Does it regurgitate pellets of indigesti-
ble matter ? Does it indulge in any
sort of play, especially in a social way ?
Does it enter holes or burrows? Does
it distinguish poisonous plants or in-
sects? How do individuals communi-
cate with each other?

6. Condition of each Specimen. — Give full

notes re genitalia watching for cases of
sterility, hermaphroditism or disease,
counting if possible the number of
■ova, especially of those enlarged; giv-
ing the general condition of the speci-
men; stating whether fat or lean, dis-
eased or healthy, parasitized or not, in-
ternally or externally, and to what ex-
tent.

7 Food. — Give in full — contents of mouth,
gullet and gizzard, and preserve the
same in labeled phials.

2>. Plumage. — Particularize each specimen
in form, color and measurement, not-
ing differences of sex, season, age,
moult and locality.

9. Mating. — Note fully any courtship ob-

served, with maneuvres of both birds,
or competitions of rivals; is it ever
polygamous? do the same birds re-
main paired throughout the season, or
for more than a season ?

10. Nesting. — Give full particulars of con-

struction, materials, proximity to the
ground and to the water of each nest,
preserving, photographing or sketch-
ing the same, and observing whether
covered over or approached by a cov-
ered way; giving details of laying,
time between each oviposition, varia-

tion of the eggs in size and color, stat-
ing whether those first laid are larger
or more heavily marked than those
laid later; are the eggs turned daily,
and if so by which bird.

11. Broods. — Number per season; average

of each. Are later broods less ? How
long is each cared for by the par-
ents? Is the female first to desert her
charge ?

12. Cowbird Parasitism. — Is the song spar-
row ever imposed upon by the cow-
bird ? Particularize each case ob-
served.

13. Young. — Give in full their habits, food,
plumage, comparing them with their
parents and with their near congeners.
Are they ever fed from the crop of
the parents? Is there any evidence
of a late summer northward migration
among them ?

14. Relatives. — What are their nearest con-

geners ? Compare them in range, local
habitat, changes of plumage, etc.

15. Competitors. — With what species do
they most actively come into competi-
tion in the struggle for life ?

16. Natural Enemies. — Enumerate preda-

tory birds, mammals, reptiles, etc.
Also meteorological phenomena, and
means employed to combat, elude or
withstand in each case.

17. Fall Migration. — Particularize as in

spring ditto, giving latest appearance.

Does it arrive in the spring singly and

go in the fall in flocks ? Is it ever a

winter resident here ?
Of course no one would expect to eluci-
date many of these points in a single sea-
son, but it is believed that enough may be
gathered to form a valuable contribution
to ornithological literature, and to decide
whether or not the investigation may ulti-
mately be made a complete success. —
Ernest E. Thompson in Forest and Stream.

BIRD LEGENDS

THE cuckoo is universally regarded as
a soothsayer. It is believed that he
foretells the number of years a person will
live, according to his cries of "cuckoo."
Swedish maidens inquire of him how long
they will remain unmarried, but if he re-
sponds more than ten times, they say he is
sitting on a bewitched bough, and no longer
heed his prophecies. It is very important
to note the direction whence his call is first
heard, for if it be the north, the auditor
will have woe and mourning in the course
of the year; the east and west signify hap-
piness; and the south, prosperity. A Ger-
man legend relates that the cuckoo is an
enchanted baker, or miller, which accounts
for the dusty hue of his plumage. When
times were hard he stole the dough belong-
ing to poor people; and when the dough
rose up in the oven, he took it out, and
plucked off a large piece, exclaiming:
"Gukuk!" "Oh, look!" God punished him
for his theft by transforming him into a bird
of prey, incessantly repeating his cry. In
Servia the cuckoo is believed to be a
maiden, who mourned the death of her
brother until she was changed into this bird.
The Russians have a similar legend.

In olden times the first day on which the
call of the prophetic bird was heard, was
kept as a festival in Westphalia. Whoever
brought the joyful intelligence was rewarded
with an egg, which he at once proceeded
to fry and eat. He then greeted all he met
with the words: " The cuckoo has called! "
instead of bidding "Good-day." At Hil-
chenbach, in Westphalia, the fortunate per-
son rolled on the grass, and this ceremony
prevented back-ache during the ensuing
year.

At Pill, in Tyrol, there is a strange theory
that the cuckoo is hatched by robin-red-
breasts, and begins by being a cuckoo for
the first twelvemonth; then he becomes a
hawk, during which period he devours his

foster-brothers; and finally, the third year,
a sparrow-hawk.

The plover, the jay, the snipe, and the
woodpecker are all weather prophets, par-
ticularly as regards thunderstorms. Plovers
go by the name of "Our Lady's Doves."
Their heads were used as a talisman against
sorcery, and their eggs as a cure for witch-
craft.

An old tradition declares that the jay falls
into a trance during a thunderstorm. His
flesh was considered beneficial in consump-
tion, while his wings were believed to be
the ornaments worn by witches at their dia-
bolical gatherings. According to village
tales, the jay is always the jester among
the birds, and his appearance is a good
omen.

The snipe is sometimes called " the thun-
der goat," and his head is likewise used as
a charm.

The speckled woodpecker was considered
sacred by other nations, as well as the Cxer-
mans, Virgil and Ovid say that Picus, the
son of Saturn, and father of Faunus, was
transformed into a woodpecker. The Ro-
mans told how he assisted the wolf in feed-
ing Romulus and Remus, and they believed
him to be th^ favorite and companion of the
God of War, which belief was shared by the
Teutonic race. His tapping reminded them
of Thor's hammer, whence he derives his
peasant name of "the carpenter," and his
incessant screaming before a storm natur-
ally connected him with the Thunderer.

The flesh of the green woodpecker was
good to eat, and was reckoned to be a re-
medy against epilepsy, and his gay plumage
was evidently considered an especial dis-
tinction. He appears in popular tales and
traditions as the heavenly messenger, and
the fairies were wont to assume his form.
Formerly the gray woodpecker was laid be-
neath the pillow of a child suffering from
convulsions.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS.

The number of new members registered during
the montli of August was 229, bringing the grand
total of registered members up to 47,644 at the close
of the month. The increase of the month is due to
the following sources:

New York So Ohio... 3

Massachusetts C3 Colorado 2

Pennsylvania 3 Dist. Columbia i

New Jersey 7 Delaware S

Vermont 7 Maryland g

Connecticut 11 North Carolina i

Michigan 4 Florida 4

Minnesot 7 Kentucky 11

Illinois 4 Japan i

Missouri 6

C. F. Amery, General .Secretary.

229

NOTES FROM PENNSYLVANIA.

Editcr Audubon Jllagazine:

I send you these few notes which I have jotted
down from time to time. The first day of haying
(in July) Willie brought in a tiny bird. It was
found where the mowing machine had passed, and
it was supposed the nest was destroyed. No trace,
however, of that or the parent birds could be found.
We could not tell what kind of a bird it was, al-
though nearly feathered. The upright tail suggested
a wren, but we hardly thought it one. The poor
little waif cried continuously. Finally, after several
attempts, we succeeded in getting it to take a little
bread and milk from the point of a wooden tooth-
pick. It then became quiet and was put in a small
covered wicker basket. Toward evening it tucked
its tiny head under its mite of a wing like any old
bird and seemed quite comfortable. The basket
was hung out of the reach of cats and we heard no
more from him. The next morning he was very
weak, would eat no more, and died before noon.
This was probably all for the best, although we were
glad to do all we could for it.

In another part of the meadow, after the machine
and horse-rake had both passed, my husband found
a meadow lark's nest. It was about the size of a
robin's, although much more neat and trim. It was
close to the ground and must have been low enough
for the cutter bar of the mowing machine to pass
over it. The teeth, too, of the rake must have
passed closely on either side; yet it was entirely un-
harmed. Although tipped a little on one side, not
one of the six dainty eggs were spilled out. They
were the size of a robin's, white speckled with brown.
Contrary to our' expectations, the mother bird did

not desert her nest, although the teams were obliged
to pass quite near in going to and coming from an-
other meadow, several times a day. My husband
placed a stake in the ground near, so no one would
disturb it. Only part of the eggs hatched and
soon after the young birds were fledged they all flew
away.

The kingbirds in the pear tree were all able to fly
about the tree the second day after they began to
climb out on the edge of the nest. They then left
the pear tree entirely, and although we often saw
them all (the old birds and four young) on smaller
trees quite close to the house, they never returned to
the nest that we could find. A week or two after in
a hard shower the limb with the nest was broken off
and thrown to the ground. We were all glad that
the birds were safely out of it.

Lucy Lyman Peek.

A DUCK IN A CHIMNEY.

Sherbrooke, Que. — One day last June the house-
hold of one of our city residents were astonished at
what they supposed was the unusual amount of noise
made by swallows in one of the chimneys. As it
continued at intervals for three days, the lady of the
house investigated the chimney-opening in the cellar
and thence extracted a live wild duck. Knowing I
would be interested, she sent it to me. Its primaries
were badly broken, but otherwise it was uninjured,
as when I set it free on the river a mile or so from
town, it= had no difficulty in getting out of the way
of a farmer's dog that had followed me unnoticed
from the road. How did it get there? Down the
chimney, of course. But what induced it to make
such a mistake? I did not recognize the species,
but it was not a wood-duck, or it would not have
been so surprising. Is there any other kind that
nests in trees and which might have made the mis-
take of thinking the chimney was a tree. — Jos. G.
IValton, in Forest and Streant.

During the spring of this year we learn from re-
liable authority that in the one small town of Myers,
Florida, the sales of white egret plumes amounted
to |i4,ooo. The birds are not wholly exterminated
but the old haunts are almost wholly deserted.

The general relaxation of Audubon work during
the hottest months of the year as indicated by our
registration list, leave it to be inferred that the
higher moral sentiments do not flourish with the
thermometer over ninety degrees Fahrenheit.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

-\

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass.
2nd mo., 20, iS
Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

Cornwall-on-Hudson, N. Y., I
Feb. 22, 1886. [

Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts,
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this-
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious-
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors-
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists-
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon SocietYo Very sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, \
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. \

Editor Forest and Stream:

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a.
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who-
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is-
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought
By want of thought
As well as by want of heart.

If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream :

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE KINGBIRD.

( Tyraninis tyranniis (LiNN.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

NOVEMBER, 1888.

No. 10.

THE KINGBIRD.

FEW birds are better known to the
children than the Kingbird. The
eagle is commonly spoken of as the king
■of birds, but how empty is such a title
when this little flycatcher appears upon
the scene. For all his great size, for all
his marvellous powers of flight, for all his
keen curved beak and his great sharp
crooked talons, the little Kingbird, which
is scarcely larger than the eagle's bill,
drives the great bird before him and makes
him put forth all his speed to escape the
constant attacks of his petty pursuer.
There are many small birds which are
possessed of sufficient courage to attack
hawks, crows and other birds of prey, in
the breeding season, when the latter ap-
proach their nests or threaten danger to
their new fledged young, but the Kingbird
never needs an excuse of this kind. As
soon as a rapacious bird comes anywhere
near him, he sallies forth to the battle,
which indeed is always a very onesided
one, and from which the tiny assailant
always comes forth the conqueror. It is
commonly supposed that this characteristic
of the Kingbird is wholly a noble one, and
deserving of nothing but praise, but we are
not altogether sure that this is the case.
It has occurred to us that perhaps the
Kingbird is a captious petulant fellow,
quarrelsome by nature and always on the
lookout for somebody that he can bully
and hector. The smaller birds, ready at

any moment, if attacked, to take refuge in
a clump of bushes or among the thick
branches of a tree, would not give him
what he looks for — a fight, but the slow-
winged hawks and crows offer him exactly
the opportunity that he is in search of, and
he can pester them to his heart's content.
Their clumsy efforts to seize him, or to
avoid his attacks, are all in vain. He
easily evades the first and laughs at the
last, and darting down on his victim from
above he pecks and buffets him until weary
of the sport. Perhaps this view of the
Kingbird's character does him injustice.
Certainly it is wholly opposed to the gen-
eral idea which makes of this gray-coated
little warrior a hero, a knight errant, sa/is
/>eur, who is always fighting battles for
others. We can hardly hope to learn
what the truth is.

The Kingbird passes the winter in the
South and on his return journey toward
his breeding grounds reaches Louisiana,
according to Audubon, by the middle of
March, and the New England States about
the first of May. During the summer
they are scattered over almost the whole
continent from the Gulf of Mexico to the
57th parallel of north latitude, where it was
observed by Sir John Richardson. Com-
mon along the Atlantic seabord, it is also
abundant on the great plains and in the
foothills of the Rocky Mountains, and pass-
ing west of these, occurs in some numbers

202

The Kingbird.

in Idaho, Oregon and Washington Terri-
tory and sparingly in California.

When the Kingbird reaches the Northern
States, it seems for a while rather subdued,
as if fatigued by its long journey, but it
soon recovers its spirits and becomes the
sprightly vivacious bird we know so well.
The birds now choose their mates and
soon the pleasing toil of nest-building be-
gins. The site chosen varies indefinitely.
Often it is in an apple tree in the orchard,
or in a pear tree in the garden close to the
house, but in our experience a favorite tree
is the so-called buttonball, or sycamore,
tree i^Platanus occidentalis). The nest is
usually so placed as to be supported at the
bottom by the branch on which it rests and
at the sides by one or more twigs rising
from that branch so that it is doubly secure
against accident from storms. The outside
of the nest is composed of small twigs and
weed stalks, roughly woven together; upon
this are placed locks of wool, tufts of cot-
ton or cow hair, and the whole is neatly
lined with fine roots, grasses and horse
hair. In this warm nest are deposited the
eggs, which are usually four in number,
but sometimes six. They are large for the
size of the bird, and when fresh are of deli-
cate creamy hue, thickly spotted with large
dots of bright brown. The creamy tint of
the fresh ^%g is due to the yellow yolk
which shows through the shell, for when
the contents are removed, the color of the
egg is a dead white. Two broods are
often hatched and reared in a season.

The nest of the Kingbird is often built
in the garden or in some tree quite close
to the house, and the birds render an im-
portant service to man by driving away
the predatory species which, but for them,
might destroy the farmers' poultry. More-
over, their food, during the greater part of
their sojourn with us, consists wholly of
insects, of which they destroy vast num-
bers. In some parts of the country there
is a prejudice against them from the fact

that they feed to some extent on honey
bees, and this habit has given them the
name of Bee Martin, and sometimes leads
to their being killed, but as a rule every
one has the friendliest feeling for the King-
bird, and desires his protection.

Toward autumn when the birds are mak-
ing their preparations for their flight south-
ward, the Kingbird eats various wild fruits,
such as blackberries, pokeberries, and those
of the dogwood, sassafras, red cedar, elder
and Virginia creeper. Nuttall, who had an
opportunity of observing one of these birds
in confinement, made some observations on
it which are sufficiently interesting to be
quoted at length. He says: " Raisins,
foreign currants, grapes, cherries, peaches,
pears, and apples were never even tasted,
when offered to a bird of this kind, which
I had many months as my pensioner; of
the last, when roasted, sometimes however
a few mouthfuls were relished in the ab-
sence of other more agreeable diet. Ber-
ries he always swallowed whole, grass-
hoppers, if too large, were pounded and
broken on the floor, as he held them in his
bill. To manage the larger beetles was
not so easy; these he struck repeatedly
against the ground, and then turned them
from side to side by throwing them dex-
terously into the air, after the manner of
the toucan, and the insect was uniformly
caught reversed as it descended, with the
agility of a practiced cup-and-ball-player.
At length the pieces of the beetle were
swallowed, and he remained still to digest
his morsel, tasting it distinctly, soon after
it entered the stomach, as became obvious
by the ruminating motion of his mandibles.
When the soluble portion was taken up,
large pellets of the indigestible wings, legs,
and shells, as likewise the skins and seeds
of berries, were, in half an hour or less,
brought up and ejected from the mouth in
the manner of the hawks and owls. When
other food failed, he appeared very well
satisfied with fresh minced meat, and drank

The Kingbird.

203

water frequently, even during the severe
frosts of January, which he endured with-
out much difficulty; basking, like Diogenes,
in the feeble beams of the sun, which he
followed round the room of his confine-
ment, well satisfied when no intruder or
companion threw him into the shade !
Some very cold evenings he had the saga-
city to retire under the shelter of a defend-
ing bed quilt; was very much pleased with
the warmth and brilliancy of lamplight,
and would eat freely at any hour of the
night. Unacquainted with the deceptive
nature of shadows, he sometimes snatched
at them for the substances they resembled.
Unlike the Vieros \sic\ he retired to rest
without hiding his head in the wing, and
was extremely watchful though not abroad
till after sunrise. His taciturnity and dis-
inclination to friendship and familiarity in
confinement, were striking traits. His
restless, quick, and sideglancing eye en-
abled him to follow the motions of his fly-
ing prey, and to ascertain precisely the
infallible instant of attack. He readily
caught morsels of food in his bill before
they reached the ground, when thrown
across the room; and, on these occasions,
seemed pleased with making the necessary
exertion. He had also a practice of cau-
tiously stretching out his neck, like a snake,
and peeping about, either to obtain sight
of his food, to watch any approach of dan-
ger, or to examine anything that appeared
strange. At length we became so well ac-
quainted, that when very hungry, he would
express his gratitude on being fed, by a
shrill twitter, and a lively look, which was
the more remarkable as at nearly all other
times he was entirely silent."

The Kingbird is swift of wing and very
expert in the capture of winged insects,
which he espies from his perch on a leaf-
less branch, or the top of a tall mullein
stalk, or a fence post, and pursues with al-
most unvarying success. He is rather a
noisy bird and rarely leaves or returns to

his perch without uttering the shrill twitter-
ing cry so characteristic of this bird.

The southward migration of this species
takes place much earlier than in most birds
and generally all the Kingbirds have disap-
peared from New England by the early
part of September. When migrating in
August the flight of this species is quite
different from the ordinary rapid fluttering
so noticeable during the summer. It is
now long and swinging, and not unlike
that of a swallow, very easy and very rapid.
The birds at this time travel in loose flocks
of twenty-five or thirty, and are for the
most part silent. The Kingbird passes the
winter in the tropics.

It has been suggested that the bright
orange patch on the Kingbird's crown is
useful to the bird by attracting insects
toward it. Thus Giraud, speaking of its
habit of standing motionless on its perch
for minutes at a time, says: "Many sup-
pose it adopts this quiet attitude for the
purpose of attracting passing insects, they
mistaking the bright vermilion patch on its
crown for a blossom, and in their eagerness
to partake of the supposed nectar, the fatal
error is not discovered until within reach
of the beguiler's grasp." In a note on the
same point, Mr. Chas. W. Brekham says:
" Several years ago, in May, I saw one of
these birds occupying an exposed perch
on a pear tree in bloom, about which many
bees were darting. Several times I ob-
served that the bird caught the insects
without leaving his perch by quickly turn-
ing his head and 'grabbing them.' My
attention being thoroughly aroused, I no-
ticed that many seemed to fly directly
toward him; the majority appearing to 'shy
off ' a short distance and change their
course, but very few that came within
reach escaped him. The question natur-
ally suggesting itself: Did the thrifty
Hymenoptera [bees] mistake the fully dis-
played orange red crown (I could see that
the crest was erected) for a flower ? Once

204

Alexander Wilsojt.

since I have observed the same phenome-
non, but not as well as upon this occasion.
Mr. C. C. Nutty, who has spent considerable
time in studying the birds of Costa Rica
and Nicaragua in their native haunts, states
that he has seen Muscivon mexicana perched
upon a twig, and waving its curious and
fanshaped crest after the manner of a flower
swayed by a gentle breeze, and thus at-
tracting insects within reach."

The Kingbird is a little over 8 inches long
and measures more than 14 inches across

the extended wings. The general color of
the upper part is damask or slate color,
the head darker, being often nearly black.
A small patch on the crown, concealed
when the crest is not erected, is bright
orange, bordered with yellow. The wings
and tail are brownish black, the latter
broadly tipped with white. There is a line
of white across the wing. The lower parts
are white, the feathers on the breast being
tinged with ash color. The eye is brown
and the bill and feet black.

ALEXANDER AV I L S O N ,

VI.

WILSON'S first journey South, hav-
ing resuhed in raising the sub-
scription list to his first volume to two
hundred and fifty, it was thought expedient
to throw off three hundred copies in addi-
tion to the first two hundred. The second
volume, published in January, 18 10, started
with an impression of five hundred, and a
fair proportion of subscribers, the work
gaining fresh applause and support as it
advanced. Simultaneously with the pub-
lication of his second volume, Wilson set
out alone on another of his ornithological
pilgrimages, and as very little record is left
of the man beyond what is to be found in
his correspondence, and as this is most
complete, chronicling all the daily events
of his life, with his unreserved comments
and reflections on men and things, we will
continue to let him speak for himself.

The first stage of his journey- brought
him to Pittsburgh, whence, on the 2 2d of
February, 1810, he wrote to Mr. Alexander
Lawson in the following strain:

" Dear Sir: From this stage of my or-
nithological pilgrimage I sit down with
pleasure to give you some account of my
adventures since we parted. On arriving
at Lancaster I waited on the Governor,
Secretary of State, and such other great

folk as were likely to be useful to me.
The Governor received me with civility,
passed some good-natured compliments on
the volumes, and readily added his name
to my list. He seems an active man of
plain good sense and little ceremony. By
Mr. L I was introduced to many mem-
bers of both houses; but I found them in
general such a pitiful, squabbling, political
mob — so split up and justling \sic\ about
the mere formalities of legislation without
knowing anything of its realities — that I
abandoned them in disgust. I must, how-
ever, except from the censure a few intel-
ligent individuals, friends to science, and
possessed of taste, who treated me with
great kindness. I crossed the Susque-
hanna on Sunday forenoon, with some
difficulty having to cut our way through
the ice for several hundred yards; and
passing on to York paid my respects to all
the literati of that place without success.
Five miles north of this town lives a very
extraordinary character, between eighty
and ninety years of age, who has lived by
trapping birds and quadrupeds these thirty

years. Dr. F carried me out in a

sleigh to see him; he has also promised to
transmit to me such a collection of facts
relating to this singular original, as will

Alexander Wilson.

205

enable me to draw up an interesting narra-
tive of him for the Portfolio. I carried
him half a pound of snuff of which he is
insatiably fond, taking it by handfuls. I
was much diverted with the astonishment
he expressed on looking at the plates of
my work; he could tell me anecdotes of
the greater part of the subjects of the first
volume, and some of the second. One of
his traps, which he says he invented him-
self, is remarkable for ingenuity and ex-
tremely simple.

" Having a letter from Dr. Muhlenberg
to a clergyman in Hanover, I passed on
through a well-cultivated country chiefly
inhabited by Germans to that place, where
a certain judge took upon himself to say,
that such a book as mine ought not to be
encouraged, as it was not within the reach
of the commonalty, and therefore inconsis-
tent with our republican institutions ! By
the same mode of reasoning which I did
not dispute, I undertook to prove him a
greater culprit than myself in erecting a
large, elegant, three-story brick house, so
much beyond the reach of the commonalty
as he called them, and consequently grossly
contrary to our republican institutions. I
harangued this Solomon of the bench more
seriously afterward, pointing out to him
the great influence of science on a young
rising nation like ours, and particularly the
science of natural history, till he began to
show such symptoms of intellect, as to
seem ashamed of what he had said.

" From Hanover I passed through a
thinly inhabited country, and crossing the
North Mountain at a pass called Newman's
Leap, arrived at Chambersburgh, whence
I next morning returned to Carlisle, to
visit the reverend doctors of the college.

" The towns of Chambersburgh and
Shippensburgh produced me nothing. On
Sunday the nth I left the former of these
places in a stage coach, and in fifteen
miles began to ascend the alpine regions of
the Alleghany mountains, where above,

around and below us, nothing appeared
but prodigious declivities covered with
woods; and the weather being fine, such a
profound silence prevailed among these
aerial solitudes, as impressed the soul with
awe and a kind of fearful sublimity. Some-
thing of this arose from my being alone,
having left the coach several miles below.
These high ranges continued for more than
one hundred miles to Greensburgh, thirty-
two miles from Pittsburgh. Thence the
country is nothing but an assemblage of
steep hills and deep valleys, descending
rapidly till you reach within seven miles of
this place, where I arrived on the 15th inst.
We were within two miles of Pittsburgh
when suddenly the road descends a very
long and steep hill, where the Alleghany
River is seen at hand, on the right, stretch-
ing along a rich bottom, and bounded by
a high ridge of hills on the west. After
following this road parallel with the river,
and about a quarter of a mile from it,
through a rich low valley, a cloud of black
smoke at its extremity announced the town
of Pittsburgh. On arriving at the town
which stands on a low flat, and looks like
a collection of blacksmiths' shops, glass-
houses, breweries, forgeries, and furnaces,
the Monongahela opened to the view, on
the left running along the bottom of the
range of hills, so high that the sun at this
season sets to the town of Pittsburgh at a
little past four. This range continues along
the Ohio as far as the view reaches. The
ice had just begun to give way in Monon-
gahela and came down in vast bodies for
the three following days. It has now be-
gun in the Alleghany and at the moment
I write the river presents a white mass of
rushing ice.

" The country beyond the Ohio to the
west appears a monotonous and hilly
region. The Monongahela is lined with
arks usually called Kentucky boats, waiting
for the rising of the river, and the absence
of ice to descend.

2o6

Alexander Wilson.

" A perspective view of the town of Pitts-
burgh at this season with the numerous
arks and covered keelboats, preparing to
descend the Ohio— its hills, its great rivers,
the pillars of smoke rising from its furnaces
and glass works — would make a noble
picture, I began a very diligent search in
this place the day after my arrival for
subscribers, and continued it for four days.
I succeeded beyond expectation, having
got nineteen names of the most wealthy
and respectable part of the inhabitants.
The industry of Pittsburgh is remarkable;
everybody you see is busy; and as a proof
of the prosperity of the place an eminent
lawyer told me there has not been one suit
instituted against a merchant of the town
these three years.

*' Gentlemen here assure me that the
road to Chilocothee is impassable on foot by
reason of the freshets. I have therefore
resolved to navigate myself in a small skiff,
which I have bought and named the ' Or-
nithologist ' down to Cincinnati, a distance
of five hundred and twenty-eight miles, in-
tending to visit five or six towns that lie in
my way. From Cincinnati I will cross over
to the opposite shore, and, abandoning my
boat, make my way to Lexington, where I
expect to be ere your letter can reach that
place. Were I to go by Chilocothee, I
should miss five towns as large as it.

" Some say that I ought not to attempt
going down by myself — others think I may.
I am determined to make the experiment,
the expense of hiring a rower being con-
siderable. As soon as the ice clears out of
the Alleghany, and the weather will permit,
I shall shove off, having everything in readi-
ness. I have ransacked the woods and
fields here without finding a single bird
new to me, or indeed anything but a few
snowbirds and sparrows. I expect to have
something interesting to communicate in
my next.

" February 23. My baggage is on
board; I have just to dispatch this and set

off. The weather is fine, and I have no
doubt of piloting my skiff in safety to Cin-
cinnati. Farewell, God bless you."

These solitary wanderings of Wilson as
described in his letters are deeply interest-
ing, not alone from their bearing on his
own fortunes, but still more for their vivid
pictures of the life of the time. His next
letter from Lexington, dated April 4th, to
the address of Mr. Alexander Lawson, ap-
pears to be a compilation from a well-kept
diary, and takes up his adventures from
the date of his leaving Pittsburgh and
records them in one unbroken narrative
down to the date of writing, but it is so
long, that we can give only a portion of it
in this number:

" My Dear Sir: Having now reached
the second stage of my bird-catching ex-
pedition, I willingly sit down to give you
some account of my adventures and re-
marks since leaving Pittsburgh; by the aid
of a good map and your usual stock of
patience you will be able to listen to my
story and trace all my wanderings. Though
generally dissuaded from venturing by my-
self on so long a voyage down the Ohio in
an open skiff, I considered this mode, with
all its inconveniences, as the most favor-
able to my researches, and the most suitable
to my funds; and I determined accordingly.
Two days before my departure the Al-
leghany River was one wide torrent of
broken ice, and I calculated on experienc-
ing considerable difficulties on this score.
My stock of provisions consisted of some
biscuit and cheese, and a bottle of cordial,
presented me by a gentleman of Pittsburgh;
my gun, trunk, and great coat occupied one
end of the boat; I had a small tin occasion-
ally to bail her and to take my beverage
from the Ohio with; and, bidding adieu to
the smoky confines of Pitt, I launched into
the stream, and soon winded away among
the hills that everywhere enclose this noble
river. The weather was warm and serene,
and the river like a mirror except when

Reintroductio7i of Feather Millinery.

207

floating masses of ice spotted its surface,
and which required some care to steer
clear off; but these to my surprise in less
than a day's sailing totally disappeared.
Far from being concerned at my new situa-
tion, I felt my heart expand with joy at the
novelties which surrounded me; I listened
with pleasure to the whistling of the red
birds on the banks as I passed, and con-
templated the forest scenery as it receded
with increasing delight. The smoke of
the numerous sugar camps rising lazily
among the mountains, gave great effect to
the varying landscape; and the grotesque
log cabins that here and there opened from
the woods, were diminished into mere dog-

houses by the sublimity of the impending
mountains. If you suppose to yourself two
parallel ranges of forest-covered hills,
whose irregular summits are seldom more
than three or four miles apart, winding
through an immense extent of country, and
enclosing a river half a mile wide, which
alternately washes the steep declivity on one
side, and leaves a rich forest-clad bottom
on the other, of a mile or so in breadth,
and you will have a pretty correct idea of
the appearance of the Ohio. The banks
of these rich flats are from twenty to sixty
and eighty feet high, and even these last
were within a few feet of being overflowed
in December, 1808."

REINTRODUCTION OF FEATHER MILLINERY.

WE learn from sources that are un-
fortunately but too reliable, that
the Parisian mondaines or demi-mondaines,
who dictate the fashions to the women of
the civilized world, have decided that
feathers are to be de rigeur this winter.

It might be interesting, but would prob-
ably be difficult to ascertain whether the
movement set on foot in England and the
United States for the protection of birds
had in any way roused the antagonism of
the leaders of fashion and provoked a de-
termination to put forth their strength and
demonstrate their omnipotence within their
chosen domain; but we candidly confess
we do not believe they gave the Audubon
and Selbourne Societies even a passing
thought. It is so miich a matter of course
that the lead of a certain coterie will be
followed with blind obedience by all the
world, that the idea that women anywhere
would recognize any higher authority,
or allow themselves to be influenced to
reject the fashion set by the recognized
leaders is one seemingly too absurd to be
entertained seriously. The suggestion that
the Audubon Society or the moral idea it

represents could influence the women of
America to reject the Paris fashion of
feather millinery while feathers were ob-
tainable for money, would do no more than
provoke an amused smile.

It is not quite a fair statement of the
case to say that the demi-mondaines set the
fashion, and that the average woman will
follow them regardless of all considerations.
Demi-mondaines frequently, perhaps gener-
ally, suggest the fashions by daring to ap-
pear in public in a costume which is some
departure from the prevailing mode, but
this departure must commend itself to a
few leading dressmakers and leading women
in society before it can become the fashion.
These arbiters of fashion being essentially
women of the world, realize instinctively the
considerations or impulse by which the aver-
age woman is influenced and would never
run counter to the popular sentiment, nor
consciously endanger their imperial sway.

The proposed return to feather millinery
is evidence that the leaders of fashion have
either not taken the movement for the pro-
tection of birds into consideration at all, or
they assume that it is confined to so incon-

208

Reintroductioii of Feather Millinery.

siderable a minority of womankind, that its
members may be regarded as more or less
harmless enthusiasts, whose idiosyncracies
are not deservmg of consideration.

As regards the merely sentimental aspect
of the question of feather millinery the
woman of the world holds an apparently
strong position. Man always has sacrificed
life for his daily food, and for skins for
warmth, comfort, convenience, luxury, and
display, and she sees no difference in prin-
ciple between the sacrifice of birds for
millinery and the sacrifice of other animals
for rugs, furs, gloves, etc. It does not oc-
cur to her that birds contribute so greatly
to man's well being by their services in
preying on insects and small rodents, and
to his enjoyment by their beauty, vivacity,
and song, that their annihilation would be
a crime against humanity, but this is pre-
cisely the aspect in which a great many
American women regard it; the aspect in
which there is good reason to believe the
women of America as a body might be
brought to regard it, if means were avail-
able for enlightening them on the subject
and enlisting their judgment and sym-
pathies in behalf of bird protection.

Phenomenal as has been the growth of
the Audubon Society, its fifty thousand
members constitute less than one in a
thousand of our population; and widely
although we have advertised the movement,
the Society with its methods and aims is
probably not known to one in a hundred of
the people of the United States. We have
about a thousand Local Secretaries in as
many towns; outside those towns very few
people have heard of the Society, and even
in the large towns in which we have the
greatest number of members, the Society
is wholly unknown in many cases to the
great majority of the people, the Local
Secretary having perhaps worked almost
wholly among people of one religious
denomination; and, judging from the meas-
ure of success we have achieved both with

adults and young people, there appears
reasonable ground to believe, that if the
whole country were thoroughly canvassed
and worked up on the subject we might
not perhaps get a majority in favor of bird
protection, but we would secure so influen-
tial a minority that the fashion of feather
millinery could not survive its opposition
although all Paris were enlisted in its sup
port.

The machinery for such an extension of
the work is wanting, and while under any
circumstances there are fifty thousand per-
sons prepared to enter their protest against
the wanton destruction of millions of our
small birds, the question of the reintroduc-
tion of small bird adornment into this
country depends neither on them nor on
the women of America in the collective
sense in which the expression is ordinarily
used, but on a small coterie of American
women, numbering at most only a few hun-
dreds; the acknowledged social leaders in
our principal cities. For them the rein-
troduction of feather millinery in Paris
would afford an opportunity for a splendid
triumph. No American woman wants to
adorn herself with dead birds, excepting
from a desire for conformity to those
around her, and if the social leaders of the
women in America were to take the law in
their own hands, and decide against feather
millinery, the Parisian leaders of fashion,
shocked at their loss of influence in so im-
portant a province of their domain, would
at once seek to rehabilitate themselves by
reverting to a fashion which would be uni-
versally followed.

The aspect of the question which con-
cerns us more nearly, is that the average
American woman is amenable to good
influences and that the solution of the
problem of bird protection rests on the
organization of adequate machinery to
force her attention to the humane and
economic aspects of the question and secure
her support.

THE STORK.

KIND reader, will you follow me for a
few moments while I introduce to
you that peculiar feathered sage and phi-
losopher, the stork. I say sage and philoso-
pher, because, to look at him and closely
watch his habits, one is instinctively led to
the conclusion that if any bird possesses
powers akin to human wisdom and reason-
ing faculties, he is the one. I allude, of
course, to that stork which annually makes
his flight from the valley of the historic
Nile to the meadows and chimney tops of
the valley of the classic Rhine, there to
build its nest, lay its eggs and hatch its
young, spend the summer in that delightful
climate, and with his increased army, mar-
shalled in the lowlands, take his flight
again to the former country in the fall.

During a stay of nine months in the
grand old cathedral town of Strassburg, in
Alsace, I was afforded an opportunity to
study the character and peculiarities of this
interesting creature, and never shall I re-
gret it. It opened to me a new volume,
as it were, on the subject of ornithology,
and I studied its pages with a satisfaction
and pleasure which has left a life-long im-
pression on my mind. By daily, yea hourly,
observations, I followed the doings of the
different "pairs" as they commenced the
work of repairing the nests of former years,
generally situated on the highest chimneys
of the city. After this was attended to the
female deposited her eggs, and the process
of incubation commenced. After a while
uncouth little woolly heads, with dispropor-
tionately long bills, appeared to the gaze.
In the course of time these bills and heads
grew into birds with bodies, and soon
showed themselves above the edge of the
nest, then the first rudiments of flying
were taught them by the parent birds, who
by some of the most ludicrous movements
in gymnastics, went through the motions

by rising above the nest a few yards, then
dropping down again and anon flying from
the nest to the peak of the roof and back
again, until the young, seeming to under-
stand what it was all about, finally imitated
the movements and thus from day to day
improved in their education until, fully
fledged, they ventured out through the air
with the parents, to seek their own food.
But the most interesting part of the whole
programme was to observe them forming
their detachments preparatory to their
migratory flight to Egypt in the fall of the
year. Conventions, or reviews, were held
in the meadows, now almost bare of vege-
tation. The thin ice covering the shallow
waters of the lowlands in the morning was
an admonition that the time for flight was
near at hand, because the supply of frogs
and lizards was shut oft' for the season,
and to stay would mean to starve. The
companies were mustered and formed, and
the storks that were seen on the meadows
yesterday were gone to-day. It is said by
people living in that country, that previous
to starting on their long journey, all the
disabled companions are killed by the
others, because such unfortunates might
impede the flight, but I cannot vouch for
this evidence of the forethought of the
bird, because I never saw it. But if the
following, which I have translated from
the French, is true (and I believe it is), it
leaves very little doubt on my mind as to
the truth of the former, and is but another
convincing proof of the extraordinary
" reasoning power " of this wonderful
feathered nomad.

Mons. Piton, of Strassburg, relates the
following, and adds that, had it occurred
in the days of Shakespeare, it might have
furnished him the plot for a tragedy:

" On the western side of the Miinster
(Cathedral) we have annually a number of

2IO

The Stoi^k.

those Egyptian emigrants (storks) settled,
and it affords me unbounded pleasure to
watch them in their curious habits. I
have witnessed the arrival of their advance
guard. I saw them select their quarters
and afterward selecting their mates, build
their nests, deposit their eggs, hatch their
young, nursing them with parental affec-
tion, feeding, raising and teaching them to
fly, to prepare them for their later long and
tedious emigration.

" I frequently ascended the Miinster for
the purpose of sketching the beautiful
landscape with the view of painting a pan-
orama, employing a large telescope to
bring the objects nearer to my eyes. It
was at this time that the annual stork
flocks arrived. As they arrived, each
sought his mate — they separated in pairs
— but one luckless stiltleg, in spite of all
his amorous attentions, found it impossible
to win his bride; the object of his affection
bestowed her love upon another.

" The young couple were happy, while the
disappointed rival, now a dreamy bachelor,
sat gloomy and sad, his neck drawn in, on
an adjoining chimney, looking the picture
of ruined hopes, and regarding with evi-
dent hate and jealousy the happy pair near
him. Melancholy was breeding vengeance;
murderous thoughts filled his heart. I saw
the mother patiently hatching until finally
the young were prepared to emerge from
the eggs. The hateful big-headed little
things, clothed in yellow down, could al-
ready raise their heads and produce a shrill
whistling sound, when the watching mother,
with cheerful chatter, welcomed the return-
ing father who emptied his well-filled crop
of its load of frogs and lizards into the
nest. The splenetic rival, hatred hatching,
still sat upon the chimney, casting mali-
cious glances down upon the happy scene.

" On a certain day, while both parents
were absent, I saw a stork descending, and
with relentless strokes sinking his bill into
the flesh of the young ones. Through my

glass I saw the blood flow, the little heads
sink and they lay cold in death. After
committing the bloody deed, the murderer
again perched himself upon the solitary
chimney. Jealousy, insulted dignity, un-
reciprocated love, were the motives for the
crime. Soon the mother appeared, hover-
ing over the nest, and, seeing her little
ones dead, uttered a cry of distress and
hastened away to seek her lord. In a
short time both returned, and, sitting upon
the edge of the nest, with disconsolate
looks, commenced stirring the lifeless
bodies as if to satisfy themselves that they
were really dead, while a suppressed sad
wailing, strangely contrasting with their
usual happy chatterings, escaped their
breasts.

" Suddenly rising into the air, I saw
them descend with relentless fury upon
the murderer. My eyes alone had wit-
nessed the bloody deed. They, however,
guessed the truth. A dreadful struggle
now commenced. The powerful bills were
used as piercing spears and cutting swords;
the long stiltlegs as clutching claws and
beating war-clubs, while the heavy strokes
of the long wings sounded loud and far.
The feathers flew in all directions; now
the combatants, driven as by a whirlwind,
flew through the air; then again they
would sink upon the adjacent house-tops,
until finally the murderer sought safety in
flight, and closely pursued by the enraged
parents, they were soon out of sight.

"The sequel is soon told: Never from
that hour forth did I see the solitary stork
upon the chimney; he must have fallen a
guilty sacrifice to the wrath of the injured
parents."

Innumerable traditions and legends cen-
ter in this interesting bird in Germany, in
which country he is regarded, by the chil-
dren at least, as something sacred. He
has always been regarded as the herald of
spring. A very old tradition, recorded as
early as the thirteenth century, states that

The Stoi^k.

21 r

the storks only adopt the form of birds he would speak, and then he would betray
when with us; but in the distant countries, everybody's secrets, because he hears and
whither they wend their way every autumn, sees everything. However, as it is, he

they are human beings, and merely under- manages to give notice of any special oc-
go an annual transformation into storks on currence by chattering with his beak,
visiting our northern climes The Swabian These birds protect the house from light-
peasantry say that if a stork had a tongue ning and must therefore never be disturbed.

212

The Stork.

There is a theory in North Germany and
Swabia that when a nest is manufactured
for the stork, which is occasionally done
by putting up an old cartwheel with
boughs twined round the spokes, he will
testify his gratitude to the owner of the
house by throwing down a feather the first
year, an ^%g the second year, and the third
year a young stork. Then he recommences
with a feather, and so on.

The demeanor of the stork on his first
appearance is very important. Should he
be chattering, the spectator will break a
great deal of crockery during the ensuing
twelvemonth; if silent, he will be lazy; if
flying, he will be diligent. Thus say the
peasants of Hanover and Mecklenburg.
In the Altmark, a stork on the wing signi-
fies to a maiden that she will soon enter
the bonds of wedlock; but if stationary,
she will be asked to act as sponsor. Who-
ever has money in his pocket on first be-
holding the stork, will never lack during
the year, nor will he suffer from toothache.

The superstition that the stork brings
the children is current over all Germany.
In Silesia the flight of a stork over a house
denotes the speedy arrival of a baby; while
in the island of Riigen they say that, un-
less the stork lay eggs, the house will also
be childless, and, as the young storks
thrive, so will the children. Nobody dare
shoot a stork in Riigen, for then he weeps
large tears, and each tear portends a great
misfortune. The stork is very particular
about domestic peace in the dwelling where
he takes up his abode, and strife soon
drives him away. Swabian peasants say
that when the storks assemble for their
winter migration, the males and females
all pair off, and should there be an odd
one, he or she is pecked to death by the
rest. The Westphalians declare that the
old storks always throw one of their brood
out of the nest if the number be uneven.
In Oldenburg there is a curious theory
that the autumnal gatherings of the storks

are in reality Freemasons' meetings. The
pious monk, Cesarius von Heisterback, re-
marks in an ancient chronicle, that the
storks are models of conjugal fidelity; and
when a female stork attempts flirtation
with any other than her lawful husband,
she is brought before a jury of storks, and
if found guilty, they hack her to pieces
with their long bills.

Many of the country folk in Holland
place old cart wheels on the roofs of their
houses, so that the storks may build their
nests on them. A pair of these birds nest-
ing on a house top is considered lucky.
The "arrival of the stork" is as gladly
hailed in the countries it visits as the com-
ing of the cuckoo. The general plumage
of the white stork is a dirty white, with the
exception of the wing covers, which are
black. The bird is about 42 inches long,
and 86 inches across the wings. The
wing measures 25 and the tail 10 inches.
The great stretch of wing shows that the
stork is well equipped for migratory flights.
The storks migrate to Egypt and other
countries in Northern Africa in winter, and
in spring they return to Europe, etc., in
immense flights, when they separate into
pairs and commence to nest. The nests
are roughly composed of sticks and twigs.
The young are hatched out in a month,
and are carefully fed and tended by both
parents till they can fly and procure food
for themselves. Many interesting stories
have been told of the love, even unto death,
manifested by parent storks for the safety
of their helpless young. Cruel tricks, not
unknown to our own schoolboys, have oc-
casionally been played on sitting storks,
such as substituting hen and goose eggs
for the rightful ones. In all these cases
tragical results followed the hatching out
of the intruded eggs. But we had best let
a well known ornithological writer tell a
sad story of the same kind. " A pair of
storks built a nest on one of the chimneys
of a gentleman residing near Berlin, the

The Stork.

213

capital of Germany. Having a curiosity
to inspect the nest, the owner climbed up
and found in it one &%%., which, being
about the size of a goose's &gg, was re-
placed by one belonging to that bird. The
storks seemed not to notice the exchange;
but no sooner was the ^'g% hatched than
the male bird, perceiving the difference,
rose from the nest, and, flying round it
several times with loud screams, disap-
peared, and was not seen again for three
days, during which time the female con-
tinued to tend her offspring as usual.
Early on the fourth morning, however, the
inmates of the house were disturbed by
loud and discordant cries, when they per-
ceived about 500 storks assembled in a
dense body, and one standing about 20
yards from the rest, haranguing his com-
panions, who stood listening, to all appear-
ance, with great emotion. When this bird
had concluded, it retired, and another took
its place and seemed to address them in

a similar manner. This proceeding was
repeated by several successive birds, until
about II o'clock in the forenoon, when the
whole flock simultaneously rose in the air,
uttering dismal cries. The female all this
time was observed to remain on her nest,
watching their motions with apparent tre-
pidation. In a short time the body of
storks made toward her headed by one
bird supposed to be the male, who struck
her vehemently three or four times, and
knocked her out of the nest; the whole
mass then followed the attack, until they
had not only destroyed the female stork
(who made no attempt to escape or defend
herself), but the young gosling also, and
utterly removed every vestige of the nest
itself. Since that time, now many years
ago, no stork has been known to build, or
even has been seen in the neighborhood."
The preserved remains of the poor stork
and gosling are now in the house where,
this remarkable occurrence took place.

J. J. Sprenger..

SKETCHES OF MONTANA.

VERY few men have their powers of
observation trained in more than
one direction. Even those who Hve in the
wilds, keen-eyed though they are and quick
to detect whatever is of interest in the par-
ticular calling which they follow, miss a
great deal of what goes on about them.
The practiced hunter is ever on the watch
for game, but he does not see the fossils in
the rocks over which he follows his prey.
The packer is intent on his animals and
their loads, and notices at once the bad
places in the trail over which he has to
pass, but he does not see the game unless
it is immediately before him. The trapper
has his eye always on the ground or the
water looking for beaver sign, and is blind
to almost everything else. The senses of
■each one of these have been developed in
one particular direction. He has become
in a sense a specialist.

The man who goes into the mountains
for the first time sees but a small portion
of what goes on about him, and a long
training is required before he learns to use
his eyes. It is not unusual to hear those
who are new to the plains and mountains
remark upon the absence of life in these
uninhabited regions. The silence of the
forest depresses them, and they miss the
bird songs, which are such a feature of our
Eastern country life in summer. This only
means that they do not know how and
where to look for the birds and the mam-
mals. They are there. Even in the nar-
row valley where the Rock Climbers were
•camped, walled in as it is with mountains
whose ribs of rock are bound together by
bands of everlasting ice, and whose sum-
mits are white with perpetual snow, there
were birds, and beautiful ones, aud some
of them came close about camp.

The day after the ascent of the glacier,
Jack and Appekunny, starting at daylight

with their saddles and bridles on their
backs, crossed the head of the lake, caught
two horses, and went up stream to climb
the mountain and bring down the meat of
the sheep. They tried to pass around the
north side of the lake just below the gla-
cier, but the way was so rough and rocky
that they were obliged to abandon their
horses and to perform half the journey on
foot. Reaching the base of the precipice,
they climbed it and reached the place
where the sheep lay. They then, with
great labor, brought it to the summit of the
cliff, and lowering it down from shelf to
shelf by means of ropes which they had
provided, at length got it to the lake shore,
and then carried it on their backs to the
horses, which packed it into camp. It was
a long and hard day's work, however, and
when they reached camp that night they
were thoroughly exhausted.

Yo, whose note book was somewhat be-
hindhand, and who wished to bring it up to
date, determined to remain in camp, and
after finishing his task, to search with his
glass for the huge male goat seen two or
three days before, and if it could be dis-
covered, to climb the mountain and try to
secure it. He wrote for several hours, and
then taking his glass and rifle and going
out to the edge of the snowslide, swept the
mountain long and carefully, but was un-
able to find a single goat. Somewhat dis-
couraged, he returned to the fire and re-
sumed liis writing.

There was a good deal that was delight-
ful in his solitary day, even though nothing
very exciting happened and no blood at all
was spilled. The forest, which to the
casual traveler seems so silent and so des-
titute of life, was not without its sounds and
its inhabitants, who made themselves very
much at home about camp. Early in the
morning a friendly little water ouzel came

Sketches of Montana.

215

feeding along the shore, and after he had
finished his breakfast perched himself on a
drift stick which ran out into the water,
and sat there for hours practicing the
thrush-like song with which next spring he
was to charm his mate and lighten her
labors all through the long summer days.
He was a young bird, but his song, though
low, was sweetly musical. And he tried it
over and over again, stopping whenever he
made a mistake and beginning anew, with
a patience and a perseverance that was
most admirable. He seemed a very humble
bit of life as he stood there clad in Quaker
gray, and hardly to be distinguished from
the stones of the beach about him; but no
one could help admiring the little fellow,
or being delighted by the liquid notes,
which the surrounding silence made only
more sweet.

On one of the trees hung the shoulders
of the sheep, and these, shining red against
the dark green, soon attracted the notice
of a vagrant family of gray jays which, like
a troop of devil-may-care marauders, were
skylarking among the pines. What amus-
ing rascals these meat-hawks are. They
are incomparably impudent, and their dar-
ing compels your admiration. If they hap-
pened to care for it they would have no
hesitation in trying to steal the nose off
your face. Perhaps they could succeed in
doing it, who knows. At all events they
would make a bold effort for it. To use
an expressive Western phrase "they would
steal the cross of a mule " — if they took a
fancy to it. A gray jay has no hesitation
in alighting within three feet of your face
and winking at you in a rakish rollicking
way as much as to say, " Don't you wish
you could catch me ? " He will stand on
the legs of a deer which is hanging in a
tree while you are skinning it, and will dart
down to the ground after every little bit of
meat or fat that drops from your knife.
Sometimes two or three will stand about
your feet, almost like hens about a person

who is feeding them. You can entice them
almost up to your hand by judiciously toss-
ing bits of meat to them, making each one
fall a little nearer you than the last.

And yet they understand very well how
to take care of themselves, do the gray
jays. Talk about catching a weasel asleep,
why a weasel is a fool to a gray jay ! They
watch you suspiciously with their keen
black eyes, always on the alert, ever ready
to take flight to avoid a snare. Treat them
as generously as you please, they will not
trust you. They have borrowed their
motto from the Mantuan bard, and each
one of them lives up to it most religiously,
and thinks, if he does not say, Timeo
Danaos, et dona ferentes. Still they plunge
down on to your meat or close to your fire
with an audacious flirt, which makes you
feel that the camp really belongs to them
and that you are only an intruder and
ought, if you have any modesty about you
at all, to withdraw and take yourself off
into the timber. Then there is a flirt of
wings and tail, a sort of experimental trial
of the limbs to see that they are in good
working order in case they should be sud-
denly called on to use them. The next
thing is to raise themselves to full height
as if standing on tiptoe to get a good look
on all sides. A couple of hops bring them
to the coveted morsel. If it is not too
large they carry it off bodily to a neighbor-
ing branch, and then holding it under one
foot, hammer and tear it until it is so di-
vided that it can be swallowed, but if it is
a large piece of meat they tear off bits and
strips until they have a good beakful, and
then fly to a safe distance to eat it, return-
ing almost immediately for more. They
sometimes cling and hang to a piece of
meat like titmice, upside down. Usually
only one will be present at a time, and the
moment he leaves his position another
takes his place. If two should alight to-
gether, the younger almost immediately
retires, for the other holds himself very

2l6

Sketches of Montana.

straight indeed, slightly erects the feathers
of his head and utters a low flute-like
whistle, which seems to be a note of warn-
ing, and is almost always respected. They
are not satisfied with taking what they
want to eat, not at all. After they have
satisfied their appetites, they continue to
come and plunder, carying off their booty
and laying up in secret storehouses that
they have far up above the earth, where it
will be safe from the depredations of any
but feathered thieves. More on this point
will be told elsewhere.

But though the gray jays do not fear
mortal man, there is one of their own kins-
folk that they hold in high respect, and
for whom they at once make way. As Yo
sat there with his back against a tree and
with his open book on his knee lazily
watching the robber brood, a dark shape
flashed across an opening in the spruces
and a moment later a superb Steller's jay
alighted in a small tree which overlooked
the camp, erected his long crest, looked
about him for an instant, and then hopping
from one branch to another, ascended to
the topmost spray, where he hung for an
instant, swinging backward and forward
on the slender twig. Then he darted
down and lit upon the meat, and after an-
other glace around him, to see that all was
safe, attacked it vigorously, sinking his
sharp bill into the tender flesh at every
stroke. He was a fine fellow, beautiful in
color and shape, with dark blue wings and
tail and a smoky-brown body and head, a
long crest and light blue dots on his fore-
head; trim, graceful, alert and quick in all
his motions. He remained but a litte while
about the camp, and then dashed away
into the forest. Perhaps there was some-
thing about the motionless figure that sat
within five or six feet of him, that aroused
his suspicions, or perhaps he was merely
too restless to stay long in one place, and
having taken a bite or two, felt he must
make explorations in some other direction.

At all events he went, and the camp saw
him no more at that time, though later in
the day he or another of his family re-
turned, took a few bites of the meat and
then hurried off as if called by pressing
business. The gray jays came back again
when the coast was clear, and so persist-
ently did they attack the meat, that Yo
finally drove them off and threw a coat
over it to protect it.

There were other birds about the camp,
and the jays, though the most conspicuous
by their size and their boldness, could not
monopolize the attention of the watcher.
The modest little juncos, birds like the
black snowbird of the East, now and then
crept out of the forest, and advancing by
cautious hops to the neighborhood of the
fire, feasted on the bread crumbs that had
been dropped on the ground. Feasted
and almost fought, for, though they seem
the most timid and shrinking little creatures
you can imagine, they have a spirit of their
own, and when one had found a choice bit
of bread, and was picking it to pieces, he
allowed no one of his companions to come
very near to him. An approach was
promptly met by a threatened attack, and
the claimant of the bread, with grimly low-
ered head and bristling feathers, prepared
to defend his rights. They never quite
came to blows, though once or twice war
seemed imminent, for the individual threat-
ened declined to be bullied, and promptly
threw himself into a defensive position;
but after eyeing each other fiercely for a
few seconds one or the other would take
a little hop to one side, and then the
other would move off, and presently the
ruffled feathers would be smoothed down
and peace would once more resume her
sway.

Sometimes, from far back in the wood,
there would be heard dull tappings and
drummings, which told that the carpenters
among birds were about, and after a while
one of these dashed into camp, and alight-

Sketches of Montana.

21 7

ing near the top of an old dead stub, stood
there for a while as if waiting to be ad-
mired. He was handsome enough to be
looked at, with his glossy black back re-
lieved by white shoulder knots and his
satin-bound cap of red. A jolly fellow, as
energetic as could be while at work, but
with a liking for frequent intervals of rest.
He would hammer away at the wood as if
his life depended on it, making the chips
fly this way and that, but when he had
secured the grub that his keen ear told him
was concealed there, and had swallowed it,
he would sit quite still for some moments
as if meditating on its excellent flavor. A
sudden movement of the gray jays, which
still loitered about in the hope of being
able to steal something more, would some-
times alarm this gentleman, and cause him
to dodge round to the other side of the
stub with a little shriek of alarm, but he
would at once peer out from behind it
again, and finding that his fears were
groundless, would go to work again.

Two rather distant cousins of his also
made their appearance. Banded three-
toed woodpeckers they were, somewhat
more modestly clad in black and white,
with yellow silken caps. They worked
more on the trunks of the higher trees
and their larger limbs, corkscrewing about
them and pecking away in a modest fashion
as if anxious to escape observation. One
of them ensconced himself in a hollow in
the back of a great spruce, and staid there
for a long time, taking a siesta, it was con-
jectured, before starting out for his even-
ing meal.

Once in a while there would be heard
far back in the forest a tremendous row —
shouts of fury, screams of passion and vol-
leys of oaths and bad language, as if two
ruffians had had a falling out and were
abusing each other with all their might,
but the listener was not greatly disturbed,

for he knew that the racket only indicated
that something had occurred to ruffle the
temper — always somewhat uncertain — of a
little pine squirrel, who was now railing
against fate with all the power of his small
lungs.

The day passed thus in a quiet fashion,
and Yo sat about the camp and welcomed
the visitors that came to it. Once or twice
he went out to the snowslide and looked
at the mountains, but the great goat whose
head and hide he longed for could not be
seen. It was not worth while to climb the
hills to kill another small one, for they
already had quite as much meat as they
were likely to use for some time, and the
mere killing of an animal is not sport.

On one of his walks to the snowslide he
met two Franklin's grouse, pretty dainty
little birds quite ignorant of fear. He
looked at them and they looked at him for
some time, and at length one of them flew
up into the low branches of a spruce and
ruffling up its feathers and cuddling down,
seemed disposed to take a nap. Yo was
tempted to try whether it would not be
possible to accomplish with this bird what
he had seen done in Canada with its close
relative the spruce grouse. Those birds
are so gentle and unsuspicious that they
may be caught by means of a noose tied to
the end of a pole eight or ten feet long.
The noose is slipped over the bird's head
as it sits on a limb and it is dragged from
its perch to its captor's hand. He even
got out a bit of twine from his pocket,
made a loop in it and looked about for a
pole, but before he had completed his
preparations he thought better of it, and
gave over the attempt. There was really
so much that was appealing in the perfect
trust and innocence of the little creature
that sat sleepily there above him, that he
had not the heart to disturb it, much less
to compass its destruction.

" Yo" in Forest and Stream^

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

MEMBERSHIP RETURNS,

The registered membership of the Society on
October 1st was 47,841, showing an increase of
197 for the past month, drawn from the following
sources:

New York 96 Ohio 12

Massachusetts 31 Illinois i

New Jersey 2 Michigan 5

New Hampshire 8 Minnesota i

Vermont i West Virginia 21

Rhode Island 3 Maryland 4

Connecticut i Ontario i

Pennsylvania 10

197
C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

AN INTELLIGENT CROW.

A FAMILY named Tennant, living at Hebron,
Conn., have a tame crow, which they think would
be hard to beat. He takes a very lively interest
in all the farming operations, seeming to regard the
running of the mowing-machine as requiring his
especial supervision. Whenever he hears the whirr
of the machine he will immediately fly in the direc-
tion of the sound, and perch on the backs of the
team or on the machine. When a stop is made for
oiling he becomes very curious, sticks his inquisitive
head down and takes the spout in his bill. In his
flying trip he is greatly annoyed by kingbirds, who
will swoop down upon him and peck him. When
these annoyances become unbearable. Jocko, as he is
called, flies directly to the nearest human friend and
perches upon his shoulder, knowing that he is. then
safe from his tormentors. He has a very peculiar
habit of investigating the interior of your ear with
his bill when perched upon your shoulder. It is
needless to say that the children of the family are
greatly attached to him. — Hartford Daily Courant.

A WAYWARD PET ROBIN.

Another pet bird with pretty ways went astray
this week, and this time it was a fat little robin with
a bright crimson breast and eyes like beads. The
little fellow was so fat and plump that he had been
christened Bunch. It seems that Bunch, who was
the pet bird of Mrs. W. P. Hurd of 43 West Thirty-
ninth street, had a way of following his mistress
about from room to room, perching, as it best
pleased him, on her head or shoulder. Tuesday
morning he saw Mrs. Hurd go into the back yard,
and he surveyed things with very curious eyes. He
perched on the fence and looked at the back of St.

Ignatius's sanctuary. Mrs. Hurd tried to coax him
into his cage, but he took wing for one of the
sanctuary's windows. Here mysterious sounds from
the organ startled him and he flew to the roof of an
adjacent house. Mrs. Hurd went to the roof of the
house and called him. Bunch cocked his head first
on one side, then on the other, and finally flew over
to the chimney of a neighbor's house. The chimney
was hotter than anything Bunch had ever remem-
bered standing on, so he gave a couple of shrill
whistles, gathered himself, and flew in terror toward
Sixth avenue, since which time he has not been seen
by his owner.

Bunch had been a pet for the last year, and had
many ways that made him dear to his owner. His
chief delight was to light on the back of Pippo, a
hairless Mexican dog, and keep a firm footing in
spite of the efforts of Pippo to shake him off. An-
other favorite trick of the bird was to pick up and
carry to his cage spools, needles, and even thimbles.
He was a very clever bird, a good companion, and
an excellent whistler, and his loss is sincerely re-
gretted.

BIRD STRATEGY.

A COUPLE of robins recently came to an amicable
understanding, and built a nest in the fork of a low
bough on a pine tree growing near the railroad
station at Fair View, N. J. It was almost com-
pleted on Sunday, and, going to their new home,
with the last few twigs requisite, rather for an or-
nate finishing than for anything else, the birds were
mortified to find a large, green, ugly toad filling the
nest, and hopping over the edges. Whether a toad
can climb a tree or not is an unsettled question, and
did not seem to interest the birds. He was there,
and that was quite enough for them. Several hours
were passed in strenuously trying to eject him, the
birds working in a systematic manner, and, by using
their combined forces at one side of the nest, en-
deavoring to heave the intruder out at the other.
They were not strong enough, however, and they
could not raise the gross body. The toad seemed
to be asleep, and, as he lay with closed eyes, the
respiratory heaving of his fat sides alone showing that
he was not dead, neither pecking nor pushing
seemed to have the slightest effect on him. Weary
and discouraged, the robins flew to an adjacent
bush, and, apparently, discussed the situation.

When they returned to the attack ten minutes
later they had perfected a plan that made short work

The Audubon Note Book.

219

of the toad. They began with great earnestness to
tear away the bottom of the nest, and in a very short
time the obnoxious thing came tumbling through the
hole. He roused himself, and, with a hoarse, pro-
testing croak, hopped into the long grass. Then the
robins flew away to build another house. They had
ousted the toad, but they had no intention of recon-
structing their desecrated nest.

THE LOON IN CAPTIVITY.

About a week since a loon was caught in a net in
the St. John River, a few miles above Fredericton,
by a man who was engaged in drifting by night for
shad and salmon. The bird was freed from the net
and brought to Fredericton, where it was purchased
by Mr. Wilmot Guion. This loon, which has a
green ring around his neck, and whose black back is
spotted largely with white, probably does not weigh
over ten pounds. When first caught, and for some
time after, he was very cross, and threatened with
his long, sharp bill those who came near him, strik-
ing viciously at them with it. In front of the City
Hall at Fredericton stands a fountain, the basin of
which has a clear diameter of fourteen feet, exclusive
of the pedestal in the center; in this the loon was
placed. The water falls into the basin from a series
of small jets, and he is very fond of taking up his
position under the dropping spray. Since he has
been placed in this basin he has become very tame
and allows himself to be handled and caressed in the
most confiding manner. He likes to have the back
of his head and neck scratched by the visitor's hand.
When there is a crowd looking at him he comes to
the side of the basin where they are. He seems not
to care about being in the water for more than an
hour at a time; then he wants to be taken out and
placed upon the grass; when he is anxious to be re-
moved from the water he utters a low cry and
readily allows himself to be removed, coming, in-
deed, up to the person who is ready to do him this
kind turn. As soon as he is out of the basin he
begins pluming his feathers.

After having been out of the water for a length of
time he is frantic when he is returned to it. The
other day, when replaced, he went three times
around the basin without ever coming to the surface.
He is very voracious, and yet dainty, as he will eat
chub only when just freshly killed, if at all stale he
at once rejects them. A few days ago three small
chub swimming around in a pail of water were
brought to him; he drew himself up, his eyes all the
while glittering as he looked at his finny food, and
uttering a low note, somewhat similar to that of
the wild goose, just as the fish were being poured
out into the basin he caught one before it reached

the surface of the pond. The other two went, one
to the right, the other to the left; that which headed
to the right got but the loon's own length before he
was caught, that to the left got no further than six
feet before he shared a similar fate.

Last evening an eel eighteen inches long was put
into the basin, and this, having concealed itself, the
loon failed to catch it. This morning, however,
while he was diving he brought the eel up, which
twisted itself all around his neck, but he held it
tightly in his bill, moving it slowly around until he
got to its head; he then succeeded in swallowing,
head first, about half of its length without difficulty,
but was seven or eight minutes getting the rest of it
down, the tail meanwhile twisting about his bill in a
most singular manner. At the time the loon was
put in the basin there was a sturgeon about eighteen
inches long in it; this has disappeared and it is pre-
sumed that the bird has made away with it. When
not otherwise engaged the loon occupies its time in
snapping at the flies which hover around the edge of
the basin or surface of the water. — Edwa7-d Jack in
Forest and Stream.

ALBINO BOBOLINK.

Editor Audubon Magazine:

Squaretop, Wyoming Co., Pa., August 15. —
To-day I saw a large flock of female bobolinks (or
perhaps male also in their winter plumage), and
with them one perfect albino, and it was the most
beautiful creature flitting about, and to me it ap-
peared to be embodied happiness. I never saw any-
thing that suggested a happy creature more than
that pure white bird. It was not persecuted by the
others, as I have read they sometimes are, but
seemed to be an honored member of the flock, a
sort of princess among them with a lady in waiting
always near.

How I longed to keep it always near, although I
would not have made it a captive for the world! and
what a pang went through me as I thought that the
same longing for possession would animate others,
who would shoot it recklessly to gratify the craving.
May a. Walter.

We are indebted to the courtesy of Dr. C. Hart
Merriam of the special branch of the Agricultural
Department at Washington, for his report on econ-
omic ornithology for 1887, but our notice of it has
been crowded out of the present number.

Who Sent the Money? — On Sept. 2 we re-
ceived a letter from Atlanta, Georgia, containing
postage stamps to the value of thirty-four cents, but
no line to indicate who sent it, or the purpose for
which it was sent.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass., [
2nd mo., 20, 1 886. J

Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Eoirst and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
sesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

Cornwall-on-Hudson, N. Y.,
Feb. 22, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
■of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturaHsts
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon Society. Very sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 5gTH Street, )
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. )

Editor Forest a7id Stream :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful tliat such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest attd Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE TUFTED TITMOUSE.
( Parus hi color (Linn.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

DECEMBER, i^

No. II.

THE TUFTED TITMOUSE.

THE Titmice, to which family this
species belongs, are all small birds,
bearing a curious resemblance in all external
points of structure to the jay. Like them
they have a short, strong, straight, conical
bill, rounded nostrils at its base, covered by
tufts of thick, forward directed bristly
feathers. As in the jays, the wings have
ten feathers on the first joint and are
shorter than the tail. Their feet, too, are
much like those of the jays, and, so far as
their looks go, there is little to distinguish
them from the group, except their size.
All our Titmice are under seven inches
long, while all our jays are much larger
than this.

The Titmice are distributed over the
whole of North America; those found in
the East and North are without crests and
for the most part have the top of the head
black or sooty brown. The Tufted Titmice
are rather Southern birds and all but the
subject of the present sketch are found in
the Southwest. Mr. Sennett has recently
described some new species from Texas.

Many of our Titmice are hardy birds,
remaining with us through the winter, and
seeming to endure without trouble the
coldest weather of Canada and New Eng-
land. They are all active, sprightly birds,
plain in color, but with pleasing vivacious
ways, and a neat, trim appearance. Nuttall
sums up their characters in the following
language. He says: " These are familiar.

active, restless birds of a peevish and cour-
ageous disposition, and great enemies to
insects. They move by short, sudden
leaps and flights from branch to branch,
suspending themselves readily in all atti-
tudes. They live in families, in woods
or marshes, and approach gardens and
orchards in autumn and winter. They are
strictly omnivorous, feeding on grain,
fruits, insects and larvae, which they dis-
lodge from every retreat, and in this pur-
suit sometimes injure in some degree the
buds of trees. They perforate seed vessels,
hard seeds, and even nuts and almonds, to
obtain their contents; they likewise feed
on flesh, and are fond of fat. Sometimes
they carry their depredations so far as to
pursue and attack sickly birds, even of
their own species, commencing like jays by
piercing the skull and devouring the brain.
They are of a quarrelsome disposition, and
often attack larger birds, killmg the weaker,
and are very resolute in defense of their
young. They breed once a year, lay many
eggs, in some species i8 or 20. Their
voice is commonly unpleasant, and their
chatter monotonous. Their flesh is scarcely
better than that of the rook and crow.
They are readily tamed, and may be fed
with cheese, nuts, and oily seeds."

To our mind this account of the Tits is
hardly fair to them. They are, we think,
very attractive little birds, and, being seen
at a time when bird life is scarce in our

224

The Tufted Titmouse.

orchards and forests, form a delightful
feature of the bleak winter landscape. We
have never observed in them any of the
traits of ferocity noted by Nuttall, and it is
certain that they associate in perfect amity
with other birds of similar habits, such as
the nuthatches and kinglets. We regard
their voices as cheerful and merry if not
always musical. Moreover, they seem to
have little fear of man, and if not com-
panionable are at least familiar little birds.

The Tufted Titmouse is a bird of rather
Southern distribution, and on the Atlantic
coast is not commonly found much north
of New Jersey. The earlier writers re-
ported this bird as having a much more
northern distribution, and even as being
found in Greenland, but this is now known
to be erroneous. Specimens have been
taken in New York and Connecticut, but
they are quite unusual here and can only
be regarded as accidental. This Titmouse
breeds in the Southern S.tates and as far
north as New Jersey, and it is quite pos-
sible that we may sometimes learn of its
nesting in New England.

It digs a hole in the tree much after the
manner of the woodpeckers, but instead of
being content to deposit its eggs on the
fine chips at the bottom, it makes a warm
nest by filling the hole with various soft
materials on which the eggs are deposited.
These are from six to eight in number,
pure white except for a circle of brown
dots about the larger end. In New Jersey
the eggs are laid toward the end of May,
but further south the nesting time is some-
what earlier. As soon as the young are
able to leave the nest they follow the
parents, and, Audubon says, continue with
them until the following spring.

The food of the Tufted Titmouse con-
sists chiefly of insects and their eggs and
larvae. In spring and summer he chases
flying insects and captures them very
adroitly, but during the greater part of the
year his time is spent going over the trunks

and branches of trees, peering into each
crack and cranny of the bark, in search of
the hidden stores of insect food which are
to be found in such situations. In the au-
tumn this bird also feeds upon the seeds of
weeds and on soft nuts. Like thej'ays the
Titmice are accustomed, when they secure
any bit of food that is too large to be read-
ily swallowed, to hold it under the foot,
and hammer at it with the bill until it is
broken into pieces small enough to be de-
voured. In this way it breaks up the larger
hard seeds, acorns and other nuts. One
which Wilson had in confinement was fed
on hemp seed, cherry stones, apple seeds
and hickory nuts, which were broken up
and placed in its cage. This bird, though
at first restless and making its way out of
its wicker cage by repeated blows of its
strong bill against the wood, soon became
familiar in confinement.

The Tufted Titmouse is more musical
than most of its kind. Nuttall compares
its more common call or whistle to the clear
ringing notes of the Baltimore oriole, and
devotes a good deal of space to attempts
to convey an idea of its various notes by
syllables, but, as might be imagined, these
efforts at reproduction are not very suc-
cessful. Any attempt to reproduce musi-
cal sounds by other sounds which have in
them no music at all must necessarily fail.
The most that can be done by this method
is to convey an impression of the relative
times which the different notes bear to one
another. Some different system of nota-
tion must be devised before our birds'
songs can be reproduced so as to give any
just notion of them to one who is unfami-
liar with them. No one understood this
better than Nuttall.

The flight of the Tufted Titmouse is
short and hurried, and its rounded con-
cave wings make a perceptible noise as it
passes one. It is much more at home in
the branches of a tree, where like all the
other Titmice it assumes all imaginable at-

A lexa ndei^ Wilsoit.

225

titudes. Some one has spoken of the nut-
hatches as the harlequins among birds,
and the figure is a happy one, but we are
incHned to think it almost as applicable to
the Titmice. They are much given to
swinging head downward on a limb, and
will twist themselves around a twig, as
readily as an expert gymnast over a hori-
zontal bar.

In winter these birds roost in old wood-
pecker holes or in crevices in the trees.

which afford them some protection from
the weather.

The Tufted Titmouse is about 6}4 inches
long and measures 9 inches across the ex-
tended wings. The general color of the
upper parts is dark bluish-ash. The fore-
head is black, sometimes tinged with
reddish. The under parts are grayish-
white and the sides pale reddish-brown,
the iris is brown, the bill black, and the
feet lead color.

ALEXANDER WILSON.

VII.

WE left Wilson at the outset of his
description of his voyage down
the Ohio, and will take up the narrative in
his own words, still preserved to us in his
letter to Mr. Alexander Lawson:

"I now stripped," he says, "with alacrity
to my new avocation. The current went
about two and a half miles an hour, and I
added about three and a half miles more
to the boat's way with my oars. In the
course of the day I passed a number of
arks, or, as they are usually called, Kentucky
boats, loaded with what, it must be acknowl-
edged, are the most valuable commodities
of a country, viz., men, women and chil-
dren, horses and ploughs, flour, millstones,
etc. Several of these floating caravans
were laden with store goods for the supply
of the settlements through which they
passed, having a counter erected, shawls,
muslins, etc., displayed, and everything
ready for transacting business. On ap-
proaching a settlement they blow a horn
or tin trumpet which announces to the in-
habitants their arrival. I boarded many
of these arks, and felt much interested at
the sight of so many human beings migrat-
ing like birds of passage to the luxuriant
regions of the South and West. The arks
are built in the form of a parallelogram,

being from twelve to fourteen feet wide,
and from forty to seventy feet long, cove'red
above, rowed only occasionally by two oars
before, and steered by a long and powerful
one fixed above. * * *

" I rowed twenty odd miles the first
spell, and found I should be able to stand
it perfectly well. About an hour after
night I put up at a miserable cabin, fifty-
two miles from Pittsburgh, where I slept on
what I supposed to be cornstalks or some-
thing worse; so preferring the smooth
bosom of the Ohio to this brush heap, I
got up long before day, and, being under
no apprehension of losing my way, I again
pushed out into the stream. The land-
scape on each side lay in one mass of
shade; but the grandeur of the projecting
headlands and vanishing points, or lines
^vas charmingly reflected in the smooth
glassy surface below. I could only dis-
cover when I was passing a clearing by the
crowing of cocks, and now and then in
more solitary places, the big horned owl
made a most hideous hollowing that echoed
among the mountains. In this lonesome
manner, with full leisure for observation
and reflection, exposed to hardships all
day and hard berths all night, to storms
of rain, hail and snow, fojr it froze severely

226

A lexander Wilson.

almost every night, I persevered from Feb-
ruary 24th to Sunday evening March 17th,
when I moored my skiff safely in Bear Grass
Creek at the rapids of the Ohio after a
voyage of seven hundred and twenty miles.
My hands suffered the most and it will be
some weeks yet before they recover their
former feeling and flexibility. It would be
the task of a month to detail all the parti-
culars of my numerous excursions in every
direction from the river. In Steubenville,
Charlestown and Wheeling I found some
friends. At Marietta I visited the cele-
brated remains of Indian fortifications, as
they are improperly called, which cover a
large space of ground on the banks of the
Muskingum. Seventy miles above this at
a place called Big Grave Creek I examined
some extraordinary remains of the same
kind there. The Big Grave is three hun-
dred paces round at the base, seventy feet
perpendicular, and the top, which is about
fifty feet over, has sunk in, forming a regu-
lar concavity three or four feet deep. This
tumulus is in the form of a cone, and the
whole as well as its immediate neighbor-
hood is covered with a venerable growth
of forest four or five hundred years old,
which gives it a most singular appearance.
In clambering around its steep sides I
found a place where a large white oak had
been lately blown down, and had torn up
the earth to the depth of five or six feet.
In this place I commenced digging, and
continued to labor for about an hour exam-
ining every handful of earth with great
care; but except some shreds of earthen-
ware, made of a coarse kind of clay, and
considerable pieces of charcoal I found
nothing else; but a person of the neigh-
borhood presented me with some beads
fashioned out of a kind of white stone
which were found by digging on the oppo-
site side of this gigantic mound, where I
found the hole still remaining. The whole
of an extensive plain a short distance from
this, is marked out with squares, oblongs

and circles, one of which comprehends sev-
eral acres. The embankments by which
they are distinguished are still two or three
feet above the common level of the field.
The Big Grave is the property of a Mr.
Tomlinson or Tumblestone who lives near,
and who would not expend three cents to
see the whole sifted before his face. I en-
deavored to work on his avarice, by repre-
senting the probability that it might con-
tain valuable matters, and suggested to
him a mode by which a passage might be
cut into it level with the bottom, and by
excavation and arching, a most noble cel-
lar might be formed for keeping his turnips
and potatoes. 'AH the turnips and pota-
toes I should raise this dozen years,' said
he. 'would not pay the expense!' This
man is no antiquary or theoretical farmer,
nor much of a practical one either I fear;
he has about two thousand acres of the
best land and just makes out to live. * * *
" On Monday, March 5th, about ten
miles below the mouth of the Great Scotin,
where I saw the first flock of parroquets, I
encountered a violent storm of wind and
rain, which changed to hail and snow,
blowing down trees and limbs in all direc-
tions, so that, for immediate preservation, I
was obliged to steer out into the river
which rolled and foamed like a sea, and
filled my boat nearly half full of water, and
it was with the greatest difficulty I could
make the least headway. It continued to
snow violently until dusk, when I at length
made good my landing, at a place on 'the
Kentucky shore, where I had perceived a
cabin, and here I spent an evening in learn-
ing the art and mystery of bear-treeing,
wolf-trapping and wildcat-hunting from an
old professor. But notwithstanding the
skill of this great master, the country here
is swarming with wolves, and wildcats, black
and brown. According to this hunter's own
confession, he had lost sixty pigs from
Christmas last, and all night long the dis-
tant howling of the wolves kept the dogs

Alexander Wilson.

227

in a perpetual uproar of barking. This
man was one of those people called squat-
ters, who neither pay rent nor own land,
but keep roving on the frontiers, advanc-
ing as the tide of civilization approaches.
They are the immediate successors of the
savages, and far below them in good sense
and good manners as well as comfortable
accommodations. * * *

"In the afternoon of the 15th I entered
Big Bone Creek, which, passable only about
a quarter of mile, I secured my boat, and
left my baggage under the care of a decent
family near and set out on foot five miles
through the woods for the Big Bone Lick,
that great antediluvian rendezvous of the
American elephants. This place, which
lies ' far in the windings of a sheltered
vale,' afforded me a fund of amusement in
shooting ducks and parroquets (of which
last I skinned twelve, and brought off two
slightly wounded), and in examining the
ancient buffalo roads to this great licking
place.

" McColquhoun, the proprietor, was not
at home, but his agent and manager enter-
tained me as well as he was able, and was
much amused with my enthusiasm. The
place is a low valley everywhere surrounded
by high hills; in the center, by the side of
the creek, is a quagmire of near an acre,
from which, and another small one below,
the chief part of these large bones have
been taken; at the latter place I found nu-
merous fragments of large bone, lying scat-
tered about. In pursuing a wounded duck
across this quagmire, I had nearly deposited
my carcass among the grand congregation
of mammals below, having sunk up to the
middle, and had hard struggling to get
out. * * *

" A number of turkeys which I observed
from time to time on the Indiana shore
made me lose half the morning in search
of them. On the Kentucky shore I was
also decoyed by the same temptations, but
never could approach near enough to shoot

one of them. These affairs detained me
so, that I was dubious whether I should be
able to reach Louisville that night. Night
came on and I could hear nothing of the
falls. About night I heard the first roar-
ing of the rapids, and as it increased I was
every moment in hopes of seeing the lights
of Louisville; but no lights appeared and
the noise seemed now within less than half
a mile of me. Seriously alarmed lest I
might be drawn into the suction of the
falls I cautiously coasted along shore which
was full of snags and sawyers, and at length
with great satisfaction opened Bear Grass
Creek, when I secured my skiff to a Ken-
tucky boat, and loading myself with my
baggage, I groped my way through a
swamp up to the town. The next day I
sold my skiff for exactly half what it cost
me; and the man who bought it wondered
why I gave it such a droll Indian name
(The Ornithologist). ' Some old chief or
warrior I suppose?' said he."

Wilson examined the falls by daylight
and found them by no means so formidable
as he had imagined, he saw two arks and a
barge shoot them with ease, and felt quite
confident of his own ability to negotiate
them with his skiff. He describes the
country around Louisville as swampy and
unhealthy, with every facility for draining
the swamps, redeeming their fertile soil,
and rendering the location as healthy as
any on the river.

From Louisville he set out on foot for
Lexington, seventy-two miles distant, and
saw very little to commend. The soil, he
says, is of the richest, but the log houses
are described as of the meanest, and a gen-
eral air of slovenliness characterizes the
homestead and its surroundings. Want of
bridges was in those days a serious incon-
venience to the foot traveler, and Wilson
tells us that between Shelbyville and Frank-
fort, having gone out of his way to see a
pigeon roost, he waded a deep creek called
Benson nine or ten times.

228

The Wounded Redstart.

In a later letter to Mr. Alexander Law-
son, written from Nashville, he refers more
particularly to one of these pigeon roosts,
or breeding places which, he says, con-
tinued for three miles, and from informa-
tion exceeded in length more than forty
miles. "The timbers," he says, "were
chiefly beech — every tree loaded with
nests, and I counted in different places
more than ninety nests in a single tree."

From Nashville Wilson traveled through
the wilderness on horseback to Natchez,
Mississippi Territory, safely overcoming
every obstacle, but undergoing very severe
exposure, and in June he reached New
Orleans and sailed thence to New York,
and again entered Philadelphia after a
long and arduous but fairly successful
journey, during which he experienced
many difficulties from the season and cli-
mate, the wildness of the paths and from a
sickness which nearly proved fatal, but
which his good constitution, and the simple
prescription of an Indian bore him safely
through. He nevertheless procured much
information and new materials for his work,
besides keeping up an extensive corre-
spondence with his friends, and regularly
entering in a diary the events of each day.
From this diary, and the corresponding
account of Audubon, we learn that these
ornithologists first met at Louisville, and
have to regret, says his biographer, that
their intimacy and acquaintance had not
a longer existence. Before this meeting
neither seemed to have had any idea of the
other's existence, though both were eagerly

pursuing the same object, but in spite of
the kindred nature of their pursuits their
natures were too diverse for the existence
of any bonds of sympathy. Audubon had
already at that time a better collection of
birds than Wilson, his drawings were bet-
ter, and yet he was to all appearance a
well-to-do storekeeper pursuing ornithology
only as an amateur for the diversion of his
leisure, admitting that he had never thought
of publishing the results of his labors. He
received Wilson with easy but indifferent
courtesy and politeness, and made himself
helpful to him in small ways, but he neither
felt nor made any display of enthusiasm,
and Wilson's sensitive nature appears to
have been wounded to the quick, while on
Audubon his visit appears to have made
but little impression.

The following entries in Wilson's diary
of his avocations in Louisville display a
measure of reserve, which serves to indi-
cate the feelings they were intended to
draw a veil over:

"March 19th. Rambling round the town
with my gun. Examined Mr. 's draw-
ings in crayon — very good. Saw two new
birds he had — both Motacilhe.

" March 20th. Set out this afternoon
with the gun; killed nothing new. People
in taverns here devour their meals. Many
shopkeepers board in taverns — also boat-
men, land speculators, merchants, etc. No
naturalist to keep me company. And appar-
ently getting no subscriptions in Louisville
he closes with the bitter remark, " Science
and literature has not a friend in this place."

THE ^V O U N D E D REDSTART.

THERE are certain days in every sea-
son of the year so exceedingly
beautiful that we feel it is a sin to stay in
the house, and to ignore the wind and the
sunshine, and the perfume of flowers where
they come laughing in at the windows to

us as it were seems like giving the cold
shoulder to our best friends.

One of these perfect days occurred in
the latter part of August, so I put on my
things and prepared to sally forth.

As I passed out of the house my atten-

The Wounded Redstart.

229

tion was attracted by a little bird which
ran before me down the pathway, occasion-
ally looking back to see if I were following,
I thought, and making a note or call which
I can only compare to the sound of a kiss.

I saw at a glance it was not one of my
sparrow friends by the yellow tail, but I
could not approach close enough to note
the less clearly defined peculiarities of
plumage, and by this time the little sprite
had neared a tree which he would fly into,
of course, and be lost to view.

To my surprise, however, he did not fly
into the tree, but darted behind it instead.
This was such an unbirdlike proceeding
that I hastened forward to see what was
the matter, and soon found the object of
my search in the long grass, where I easily
secured him.

Such a minute body ! and, oh ! sad to
relate, a broken wing, probably the work
of a stone, or bean snapper, in the hands of
some heartless boy.

Poor little victim, standing helpless in
the pathway, deprived of his only means of
escape from his many enemies ! I under-
stood now the pretty timid devices to at-
tract my attention, and conciliate my good
will.

How glad I was I had not delayed com-
ing out just to do this, or to finish that !
And before the cat next door had made
her matutinal exploration of that identical
long grass.

"But you're safe now, my birdie!" I
cried, "so calm your fluttering little breast,"
and I really think that the feeling of my
hands round the little fellow gave him a
sense of security, for he made no effort to
escape, and looked up at me most confid-
ingly.

As I hastened back to the house, I en-
countered my sister, who had promised to
overtake me in my walk.

"I've got a wounded bird," I exclaimed,
"run, and get something to put it into,"
and by the time I had reached my room, a

basket with some soft clothes laid in the
bottom was ready to receive the little suf-
ferer. Not knowing what food to feed
him, I scattered some rape seed in the
basket, and tied a piece of coarse white net
over the top. Then I darkened the room,
and set out again to resume my walk.

As soon as I returned I hurried up-stairs
to my bird; he had not eaten the seed, and
was flitting about in a very restless manner.

As I looked at the slender bill, I saw it
was not adapted for cracking seed, but for
insect food.

Acting on this surmise, I ran down to
the kitchen, took away the fly-blinds from
the windows, put a towel in the hands of
the Swedish girl, and pointing to a fly said,
"Smite, and spare not."

"Spare not," she reiterated, thinking she
had learnt the name of a fly.

I nodded assent. It was no time to dis-
cuss the niceties of the English language,
when my bird was probably starving.

Then I went into the garden, determined
to catch something.

First I examined a rosebush, but there
was no sign of a grub- or a worm, so I got
on my knees and looked upward through
the branches, when, oh joy ! a luscious
green caterpillar on the under side of a
leaf, just above my head. I detached the
leaf, and, judging from the brisk cannonade
which had been going on in the kitchen,
that a liberal supply of flies awaited me,
was considerably disappointed to find that
the number of killed and wounded oniy
amounted to six, all told. But half a loaf
is better than none, so I flew up-stairs, and
had no sooner introduced the caterpillar
into the basket, than the sufferer darted
upon it with an avidity which left no doubt
in my mind as to the kind of food he was
accustomed to.

The flies were received with even more
favor, and discussed in the same apprecia-
tive spirit.

I knew now what food to feed him — but

230

The Wounded Redstart.

what could I do with the poor wing ! Nature
works wonders sometimes, but even she
could not knit those fragile bones together,
while the owner kept bobbing up and down
like a daddy-longlegs.

From my experience of birds, I have ob-
served that they are much tamer when they
are allowed the freedom of a room, than
when confined in a cage. So I took the little
feather-weight out of the basket and placed
a shallow dish of water on the floor before
him. So thirsty ! one, two, three times has
he darted his slender bill in the dish, and
now he is standing in it to cool his feet,
and kissing at me for more flies.

Fortunately at this juncture my Swedish
maid appeared with a fresh supply, and I
fed them to him one by one, until he was
satisfied — until, at last, I saw "balmy sleep,
nature's sweet restorer," settle down upon
my little bird, when I left the room on tip-
toe.

I was unwilling, however, to leave him
at large during the night, so the basket was
again brought into requisition. But I re-
gret to say, he was not one of those good
little birdies that go to bed at sundown, for
he was afoot while there was the faintest
gleam of light, so I left hini to get his head
behind his wing before I transferred him
to the basket.

Then I began to cast about as to what I
could get for his breakfast, and hit upon
the expedient of a hard boiled egg made
into a paste with pounded cracker. So
when I assisted my friend to rise the next
morning, I told him that while he remained
with me, I should provide Q.<gg paste for the
staff of life, and that flies and such deli-
cacies would be served for dessert.

He expressed himself perfectly satisfied
with this arrangement by every inflection
of which a kiss is capable, and fell to work
on the paste with a will. Afterward he
took his bath, and made his toilet for the
day. But my pleasure in watching this
dainty operation was greatly marred by the

evident signs of pain it gave the little crea-
ture. Still, the wing did not hang down
quite so helplessly as on the previous day,
so it might not be broken after all.

]>y this time our acquaintance had rip-
ened into a permanent friendship, and I
had leisure to study the dress and appoint-
ments of my little friend. Surely I had
read the description in "Hints to Audubon
Workers." But I could not call to mind
whether it was a May hint or a December
one. So I took them in order and found
the description at last: "The Female Red-
start."

And I had been addressing my friend as
he ! However, it was no use to take the
matter seriously, so I laughingly apologized
to Mrs. Redstart, for having mistaken her
for one of the sterner sex.

She turned her pretty head aside with a
quizzical look, and I thought she was laugh-
ing at me under her feathers.

There was a little awkwardness at first
on both sides, but our friendship rested on
too firm a basis to be easily shaken, and
whenever I entered my friend's apartment,
she would come running up toward me,
spreading out her pretty tail like a fan, and
kissing at me for the coveted fly which she
knew I had brought for her.

The only point of difference between us
was my friend's predilection for late hours,
but as she frequently indulged in forty
winks during the day (more particularly
after a surfeit of flies) it was not to be ex-
pected that she was ready to go to bed as
early as other folks.

On the third morning of Mrs. Redstart's
sojourn with me, I noticed a marked im-
provement in her wing — but it was power-
less for flight as yet. So as she could not
reach the windows, I threw open the blinds,
and let the sunshine stream in, and the flies
too. It was a day of unparalleled happi-
ness; the staff of life was left untasted, and
flies could be had for the asking, or rather,
the catching. I never saw such restless

The Wounded Redsta7^t.

231

activity, and I really thought Mrs. Redstart
was going mad.

As the room was covered with light mat-
ting, she could see a fly on the floor at
several yards distance, and no character
impersonator ever changed his appearance
with more celerity than my little friend, as
she darted like a streak at the intruder.

The efl:ect of all this exercise and excite-
ment had a most beneficial effect on Mrs.
Redstart, for she took a bath early in the
evening, and I found her asleep soon after
on top of a roll of paper, but how she got
up so high I could not imagine. As she
nestled in the paper with her face turned
upward, I could not but think of a little
child saying its prayers, and I was a great
mind to leave her there for the night. But
it is always the unexpected that happens,
so I gathered her up in my hands, kissed
her pretty head, and placed her gently in
the basket where 1 knew she was safe.

I felt now that I should not have my
little friend with me much longer, for as
soon as she could use her wing she would
want to set off on her southward journey,
and I loved her too well to detain her
against her will, so I resolved to devote as
much of my time to her as possible, while
she remained with me.

As I knew she liked to get up as soon
as she awoke, 1 took an early peep at her
next morning, but was glad to find she was
still asleep, and it was not till the clock had
struck seven, that she opened her eyes.

" Oh, you little sleepy-head," I exclaimed,
"your breakfast has been waiting an hour."

At the mention of breakfast, Mrs. Red-
start was wide awake in a moment, and ex-
pressed her readiness to get up at once.

We passed a very happy day together,
and, as I did not wish my friend to feel
that I regarded her as company, I got some
light sewing, and sat down on a low stool,
quite in an informal way. Presently I no-
ticed a fly on my shoe, and, although Mrs,
Redstart was a considerable distance from

me, she saw it too, and before I could be
aware of her intention she had darted up
my foot, caught the fly, and was off again
in the twinkling of an eye.

Seeing my friend was in such a merry
mood, I slid off my stool to the floor, and
asked her to give me a lesson in fly-catch-
ing. So as to be able to run up your foot,
too, said I. At the sound of my voice she
came dancing toward me like a little fairy,
and I was greatly amused at the curiosity
with which she regarded me. But she had
an eye to business, and, as she had the fa-
culty of turning herself round without ap-
parently using her feet, she seemed to be
looking at every point of the compass at
once. Nothing escaped her, and woe to the
unfortunate fly that lit upon my dress, or
buzzed past me. He had no time to say
his prayers. Perhaps she thought in her
little bird way that I had a lame wing too,
for as long as I remained in a recumbent
position she never left me.

As the day drew to a close, she began
looking about for a resting place, and es-
sayed a short flight, so I was not surprised
next morning to see her sweep out of the
basket and circle round and round the
room, looking down and calling to me from
the top of the doors and pictures. But 1
thought I would give her wing the benefit
of one more day's rest, and "to-morrow
morning," said I, " I will take you to a
beautiful spot that I know of, just fit for a
little bird-angel."

Before the day was over, however, I
came near having cause to regret that I
had not let my little friend go, there and
then. I had been absent from the room a
short time, and on my return found her
posing on the pin-cushion before the look-
ing-glass, and spreading out her tail in the
most approved fashion. Then she drew
herself up, and the interest and com-
placency with which she looked down and
contemplated her minute black feet was
exceedingly amusing to witness, when her

232

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

innocent vanity suddenly received a check,
and I saw that she had become entangled
in the lace on the cushion. I held my
breath. If she got frightened and at-
tempted to fiy away, she would break her
legs, but I did not move, nor even speak,
she must free herself, and I coLdd not but
admire the coolness and dexterity with
which she extricated first one dainty foot,
and then the other; when she flew down
to me, for a fly if you please.

As she had recovered the use of her
wings, she made up her mind to go to
bed where she liked, and not where I
liked, so I was obliged to call my sister
to the rescue, who swooped down on my
friend and hustled her into the basket be-
fore she knew where she was. As soon,
however, as Mrs. Redstart could recover
herself, she resented the indignity with be-
coming spirit, and sprang upward on the
netting almost before it could be scrambled
over her, where she persisted in remaining
in an upside down position till I thought
she would dislocate her neck. But she
ultimately yielded to my entreaties to re-
verse herself and go to sleep with her feet
downward.

True to my promise, I carried my little

friend the next morning to the spot I had
told her about; she understood it all, and
was very quiet as we journeyed along.

" This is the place," I said, as I took off
the objectionable netting. She flitted into
a bush and began looking industriously for
her breakfast. Her little heart seemed
bubbling over with happiness, and she
talked to me incessantly.

" I wish you would fly up into that high
tree," I said. "You can be seen so plainly
here by passers-by."

She turned her pretty face up to me as I
bent over the bush, and it said as plainly
as a face could: " You don't mean to take
me away ! "

"No, my darling," said I, "I don't mean
to take you away, but I shall feel you are
safer in that high tree."

She must have divined my meaning, for

she flew into it directly. And, as she stood

looking down at me in the bright sunshine,

I kissed my hand to her, and could just

hear her soft answering note. And so we

parted. And, as I walked homeward in

the stillness of the early morning, I felt

that my heart had been touched to finer

sympathies by my brief acquaintance with

a little bird.

Emma Thornton.

CHARLEY'S WONDERFUL JOURNEYS

JOURNEY XI.

CHARLEY sat up and looked at the
Hesperornis, and the Hesperornis
looked at him, and it would be hard to say
which was the more astonished. Neither
of theni spoke a word. Each waited for
the other Lo begin.

" Are you fish, fowl or saurian ? " asked
the Hesperornis at length, unable to con-
trol her curiosity any longer.

" Neither, if you please, ma'am," replied
Charley, courteously, and now thoroughly
self-possessed; and rising to his feet he

folded his hands behind his back, and
stood prepared for his examination,

" What in the name of goodness are you
then if you are neither fish, fowl nor sau-
rian ?" asked the Hesperornis, curiously.

" If you please, ma'am," said Charley,
" first came the things that hadn't any
brains to speak of, nor any backbone, then
came the fishes, and after them the reptiles.
Then you came and the Icthyornis " —

" The what ? " exclaimed the Hesper-
ornis.

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

233

" The Icthyornis," repeated Charley;
" the other birds that have teeth, and long
wings for flying, and dash down and catch
the little fishes when they come near the
surface."

" But all birds have teeth and catch
fishes, don't they ? Which one do you
mean ? "

"I mean the one that's got a fish's back-
bone, and that's why they call him Icthy-
ornis."

" I am sure I never heard a bird called

are young birds, they'll get teeth before
they are as old as I am. Haven't you any
teeth ?"

"Yes'm," said Charley, showing his
grinders.

" But why don't you tell me who you
are ?" said the Hesperornis. "I keep on
asking you, and you keep on telling me
about birds, but you're not a bird; now
why can't you tell me who you are ? "

" If you please, ma'am," said Charley,
" that's what I was coming to. After the

RISING TO HIS FEET HE FOLDED HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS BACK.

Icthyornis, and you had better not let any
of them hear you call them by any such
outlandish names. But what has that got
to do with you ? I asked you what you
are."

" If you please, ma'am, that's what I was
going to tell you when you asked. First
came you and the Icth — . I mean the
other birds with the teeth, and next came
the birds with beaks and no teeth."

"What became of their teeth?" asked
the Hesperornis.

"That I don't know," said Charley; I
only know that when you turn over the
next leaf of the great stone book the birds
hadn't any teeth at all."

" Oh, nonsense, that's only because they

birds came the animals that went on four
legs "—

" Oh, I know," said the Hesperornis,
" that's the saurians, but they were always
there."

" No, ma'am, if you please, not the sau-
rians, because they had cold blood, but
four-footed animals with warm blood, like
the birds."

" But how do you know that birds have
warm blood," asked the Hesperornis, sus-
piciously.

" Because," said Charley, " if birds sit
on their eggs it makes them warm, but if
fishes and saurians sat on their eggs it
wouldn't."

" That's quite true," said the Hesper-

234

Charley s Wo7iderful Journeys.

ornis, " and have you warm blood like the
birds ? "

"Yes," said Charley.

" Well, that is lucky," said the Hesper-
ornis; "I am sure you must be tired of
standing, and you can sit on my eggs while
I go fishing."

Charley thought it was a very strange
thing to ask him to do, but he was always

dropped the fish and stood still with open
jaws as if turned to a fossil.

Charley sat very still, waiting for the
Hesperornis to speak first, and at length
the astonished bird recovered himself suf-
ficiently to say " Hallo."

" Hallo," said Charley, quietly.

" What are you doing sitting on our
eggs?" asked the Hesperornis.

r-^;^^?/' •

THE HESPERORNIS STOOD STILL WITH OPEN JAWS.

willing to oblige, so he said he wouk! keep
the eggs warm with pleasure until she came
back. So he sat down very softly on the
eggs, and she straddled off to the sea to go
fishing.

She hadn't been gone very long before
her husband came back with a big fish in
his jaws, and as the island was all covered
with mounds of guano, he never saw
Charley until he was close to the nest, when
he suddenly caught sight of him, and was
so startled at the strange sight that he

" Mrs. Hesperornis, that is your wife,
asked me to sit on them and keep them
warm while she went fishing."

" How dare you call my wife such bad
names, I won't stand it," said the Hesper-
ornis, gnashing his teeth with rage.

" If you please, sir," I didn't mean any
harm, and it isn't a bad name."

" Isn't a bad name ! " screeched the
Hesperornis; "what does it mean then?"

"If you please," said Charley, "it only
means that you live out west."

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

235

"But we don't live out west," said the
Hesperornis, " we live here. Who are you
anyway, and where do you live ? "

"If you please, sir," said Charley, "I'm
a boy, and I live in the Nineteenth Cen-
tury."

" The Nineteenth Century ! " exclaimed
the Hesperornis, " where's that?"

" It's a long way off in the future," said
Charley, "birds with teeth never got as far
as that."

" No, I'm sure they never did, nor ever
saw anybody like you before," said the
Hesperornis; "how did you get here?"

" I think I must have lost a great deal of
time," said Charley, " I'm always losing
time and getting behind hand."

There was silence for a minute or two,
which was broken by the Hesperornis who,
by way of changing the conversation,
asked, "What sort of eggs do you lay?"

" If you please," said Charley, " folks
and animals don't lay eggs."

" Don't lay eggs ! " said the Hesper-
ornis, astonished; "then where do the
young ones come from ? "

"I don't know," said Charley, "it's only
the birds that lay eggs nowadays, the folks
and the animals are young first, and then
they grow up."

"Yes, and sit on birds' eggs, and hatch
folks and animals ! Oh, I see it all now !
Whatever could my wife have been think-
ing of to go off and let you sit on the eggs,
and get chickens with long arms and no
feathers or jaws ! Oh, I'll teach you."

And with that he snapped his jaws and
rushed at Charley, who did not stand upon
the order of his going, but sprang up and
went so suddenly that he broke half the
eggs; then bounding over the nearest
mound he made tracks like the wind.

At this moment Mrs. Hesperornis came
back with a fish in her jaws. She heard
her husband's voice in angry tones, and
made all the haste she could, and as she
reached the nest she saw him standing

over it and looking at the eggs with speech-
less agony. She, too, took one glance,
which was enough; the next instant she
caught a glimpse of Charley bounding over
a mound; she dropped the fish, and shout-
ing " eggs," in a sharp, shrill tone, set out
after Charley at top speed, followed by her
husband and all her neighbors, who jumped
up from their nests and joined in the pur-
suit, shouting " eggs " at the top of their
voices.

Charley ran like the wind, clearing
mound after mound in his flight. Many
of these mounds had nests on the top of
them, and the birds snapped at Charley's
legs as he flew over them, and then got up
and joined in the pursuit; but before long
Charley left the nesting ground far behind
him, and came out on to a broad, sandy
plain with groves of palm trees in the dis-
tance. The shouting now grew fainter
and fainter and finally died away altogether
as Charley neared one of the groves, which
he found was all of date palms; so he
climbed one of the trees and collected a
good supply of dates, and then climbed
down and had a good feed, slaking his
thirst at a crystal spring that rose in the
middle of the grove; then wearied of his
long journey he sat leaning his back against
one of the palm trees and soon fell fast
asleep.

When he awoke the Ostrich was grazing
close at hand, but he looked around quick-
ly; Charley sat up, and advanced toward
him for a talk.

- " If you please, can you tell me the way
home ? " said Charley.

"Where do you live anyway?" asked the
Ostrich.

" If you please, sir," said Charley, " I
live in the Nineteenth Century."

" I never heard of such a place," said
the Ostrich, "but it must be somewhere on
the other side of the desert, and if you like
you can get up and ride as far as that."

They rode on and on through the desert,

236

Charley s Wonderful Journeys.

and at last it began to be very monotonous,
and Charley amused himself by pulling out
the finest of the ostrich feathers, and as
fast as he pulled one out another grew in
its place.

Then he began to grow drowsy, and
when he awoke again the Ostrich was
gone, and he was sitting by a stream on
the other side of the desert, and by his side

" I never do. anything without consulting
my wife," said the chief, " but she always
agrees to everything I say. I suppose you
know how to begin ? "

" Yes," said Charley, after a moment's
thought; ''the first thing to do is to make
a collection."

" Quite right," said the savage; " let
everybody make a collection. The men

m^^:^

■''I ^x

••■'C'!?

"the Fn<ST THING TO DO IS TO MAKE A COLLECTION."

were the feathers that he had pulled out of
the Ostrich; quite a big bunch.

The savages were hunting at no great
distance, so Charley went toward them,
and asked the chief if he would be pleased'
to tell him the way home.

"You had better come home with us,"
said the chief. " I suppose you're a mis-
sionary."

" Yes, I would like to be a missionary
now that I'm here," said Charley. "Would
you like to be converted ? "

can go to the woods and collect game, the
boys can go down to the sea and collect
clams, and the women and girls can go and
collect fruit."

Everybody went to work with a will,
they all seemed so delighted to have a mis-
sionary. The savages soon returned with
lots of game, the old women set to work to
cook it, and there were clams and fruit,
and roast venison, and Charley enjoyed
his first dinner as a missionary very much.

They all pressed him to eat more, and

Report of Dr. Merriam.

'■2>7

he kept on eating as long as he could, and
he really thought he would have a very
good time, when all at once he heard
something that made him drop his knife
and fork and feel very queer. A party of
children were whispering together in a
corner, and to his horror he heard one of
the little girls say as plain as possible,
" We shall have roast missionary for Christ-
mas."

Charley stole a rapid glance in the direc-
tion of the group of children, and they
were all patting their stomachs, and evi-
dently enjoying something in anticipation,
but when they saw Charley looking at them,
they pretended they were not thinking
about anything.

You can imagine his sensations. When
he went to his room he thought of nothing
but how to get away, and he determined to

get up and make a run for it as soon as
they should all be asleep, but they sat
round the fire talking and laughing until
far into the night, until Charley could keep
his eyes open no longer, but overcome by
exhaustion and a big supper he fell fast
asleep. How long he had been asleep he
didn't know, when all at once he heard
footsteps coming toward his room. At
first he dared not open his eyes, but as he
heard the handle of the door quietly turn-
ing, he sprang up in bed determined to
sell his life dearly, and then imagine his
delight when he found himself at home,
and his mother standing in the doorway of
his room.

She laughed when he told her that the
savages wanted to make missionary pie of
him, but Charley looked very grave about
it, for he felt it was no laughing matter.

C. F. Amery.

REPORT OF DR. MERRIAM.

WE are indebted to the courtesy of
Dr. C. Hart Merriam, chief of the
Department of Economic Ornithology at
Washington, for his report for the year
1887. The report consists of two parts (i)
a statement of work done during the year;
and (2) special reports embodying results
of investigation.

The work of the Division as usual con-
sisted chiefly in the collection of facts
showing the relation of certain birds and
mammals to agriculture, horticulture and
forestry, and in the preparation of two im-
portant bulletins (i) on the English spar-
row, against which the department has
entered on a contest designed to be a war
of extermination, and (2) on bird migra-
tion in the Mississippi Valley.

Dr Warren's valuable report on the
stomach contents of hawks and owls, of
which a synopsis was given in the Audu-
bon Magazine, has been embodied by Dr.

A. K. Fisher, Assistant Ornithologist, in a
report of the contents of 1072 stomachs,
all carefully tabulated and serving to bear
out the conclusions suggested by Dr. War-
ren's investigations, only 57 of the 1072
stomachs affording remains of poultry in
their food, while 528 contained mice, and
241 insects.

Dr. Fisher contributes further some
notes on the depredations of gophers and
blackbirds in northern Iowa and southern
Mi:nnesota, in which occurs the very per-
tinent remark "that the chief reason why
blackbirds are so troublesome in this local-
ity is that so small a proportion of land is
planted to corn compared with the vast
area of the surrounding prairie," and he
adds that the same state of affairs existed
at Storm Lake, Iowa, some years ago, be-
fore corn was so extensively raised as at
present. This is the key to the whole
problem; birds which prey upon the farm-

238

The Birds of P^Hnkipo Island.

ers' crops one or two months in the year,
do not tend to increase, but on the contrary
to decrease with the spread of cultivation,
because their numbers are limited by the
available food supply at all seasons, and
cultivation tends rather to contract than to
increase it. Hence it follows that isolated
settlers have their crops ravaged by as

many birds as would be distributed over
the whole region if all were under cultiva-
tion; a conclusion that will doubtless have
due consideration attached to it in the re-
commendations of the department. The
country will want all these birds by and by,
and their maintenance even at a cost will
prove a solid investment.

THE BIRDS OF PRINK IPO ISLAND.

WE have swallows who make their
dudish toilets early in the sum-
mer. They cleave the clear air of the
mountain sides, dart out of the vineyards,
and flit amid the pine trees, never seem-
ing to alight. They are quite tame and
fearless. One morning, while sauntering
up the mountain, I notice that two of these
birds are following me. When I stop they
hover about my head; sometimes within
arm's length. I marvel. What does it
mean ? Am I near a nest ? Are these the
father and mother of a brood, as to whose
safety the parents are apprehensive? I
move on. Still they follow, darting far
down into the valley, then sweeping on
their electric wing to the very crown of the
mountain and about the crown of my hat.
I reason that they have been domesticated
at the hearthstone or in the chimney, and
so I solve the problem.

A month or so ago, one morning, a cloud
of blackbirds, our own cornfield larcener,
took possession of the woods of the isle.
They are known here as petty crows and
do much damage. They soon left for better
foraging.

This isle is distinguished for quail. They
come about the first of September in great
flocks. Already some of the pioneers have
heralded their approach. From the hills
opposite our villa shots are heard in the
morning. When the season is full it is
dangerous to be about the woods, the shots

are so numerous. These birds are migrat-
ing from the grain plateaus of Russia to
the balmier fields of Egypt. Their resort
here reminds me of the wild pigeons in the
West in Ohio in my old district in Licking
county, where for years they were wont to
come and roost as regularly as the seasons
came. They made the air black. They
covered trees and fences with their multi-
tudes. The quail here are not so numer-
ous; but they fill the shrubbery. Some of
the rich folk of the isle are buying up pre-
serves to limit their destruction. After a
few weeks' rest, during which they are
massacred by the thousands — even by boys
with sticks — the survivors take flight over
the sea to San Stefano, or the shores of the
Hellespont, en route for " winter sunbeams."
Antigone rises sheer 500 feet. Her sides
are full of caves. What are those white
flowery specks mingled with the rock and
greenery ? We soon ascertain, for have
we not discovered and aroused the gulls
and cormorants that here nestle ? They
come out of their nooks by the thousand
and keep up such a clamor that it seems
like the angry protest of a bird mob against
the invasion of their haunts by our launch.
These are the birds which make Marmora
and the Bosphorus so full of life, even
when the hot air silences all other noise
and motion. They are never disturbed or
killed by the inhabitants. They have a
monopoly of the isle. They are gentle as

Bird Leo-ends.

239

all inhabitants of the isle — which is named
after the heroine of Sophocles — should be.
The tameness of the birds is not limited to
the Island of Prinkipo. All through the
mosques and groves and walls and gardens
of the old city of Stamboul you hear a uni-
versal twitter and the fluttering of wings,
which indicate the life of the birds. The
sparrows fly in and out of the houses. The
swallows, which seem partial to my pres-
ence, fix their nests in every convenient
arch in and out of the bazaars. The
pigeons are maintained by many and have

Samuel

a mosque of their own named after them.
The gulls rival in number the turtle doves,
the one having dominion of the air, and the
other of the woods and cemeteries. The
halcyons fly in long ranks up and down
the Bosphorus, as if restlessly intent on
some very earnest business; while the grave
and dignified stork sits upon the towers of
Anatolia and Roumelia and upon the cupo-
las of the grand mausoleum. The Turk
never harms these birds. Every bird has
a little office of trust which it executes for
this wild, reckless and sanguinary Turk.
S. Cox, 171 '^ The Isles of the Princess^

BIRT3 LEGENDS.

IN Norway, the woodpecker is called
" Gertrude's bird," from the following
legend: "One day our Lord was walking
with St. Peter, when they fell in with a
woman named Gertrude, who wore a red
cap and was busy baking. Our Lord, being
tired and hungry, begged for a piece of
cake. Accordingly, the woman took a little
dough and set it in the oven, but it rose up
so high that it filled the whole pan. Then
she thought the cake was too large for an
alms, and taking less dough, she recom-
menced baking. Again the cake rose up
to its former dimensions, and was again re-
fused to the weary wayfarers. When the
same thing happened at the third attempt,
Gertrude said: ' Ye must e'en go your ways
without alms, for all my cakes are too large
for beggars.' Thereupon, our Lord replied:
'As thou wilt give me naught, thou shaltbe
punished by being changed into a little bird,
thou shalt seek thy scanty food in the bark
of trees, and thou shalt only drink when it
rains.' "

Scarcely had these words been spoken,
when the woman was transformed into the
"Gertrude's bird," and flew out by the
chimney. Up to the present day she wears

her red cap, but the rest of her body is black
from the soot of the chimney. She is always
pecking the bark of the trees and screaming
for rainy weather, because she is always tor-
mented by perpetual thirst.

The turtle dove is a sacred bird. Swabian
peasants call it "God's bird," and say that
the house where doves are kept cannot be
struck by lightning. If there is a sick per-
son in the house, the turtle dove grieves
and will not coo. Sometimes it mourns for
years over a death. People who suffer from
erysipelas generally keep doves, declaring
that they draw the illness to themselves, and
as a proof of this the bird's feet become
scarlet.

The quail has the gift of prophecy. In
some parts of Tyrol the number of his calls
is believed to denote the price of corn,
each call signifying a gulden. In other
parts, if he calls six times, the year will be
a bad one; if eight times, it will be toler-
ably prosperous; but should he call ten
times, or beyond that number, everything
will flourish.

Sparrows, on the contrary, have no spe-
cial virtues, and whoever eats them will
have St. Vitus's dance.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

AUDUB3N SOCIETY.

The total registered membership of the Society
on October 31 was 48,0^16, showing an increase of
205 during the month, drawn from the following
sources:

New York 72 Ohio 17

Maine 18 Indiana i

Vermont 22 New Jersey 4

Connecticut 22 Maryland 2

New Hampshire 11 North Carolina 2

Massachusetts 10 Florida 2

Pennsylvania 20 Canada 2

205

C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

AUDUBON MONUMENT.

The following subscriptions on behalf of the Au-
dubon Monument have been received in this office
since last acknowledgment. Other contributions
from members of the Society have, we believe, been
sent direct to the Central Committee, but the con-
templated fall meeting has not yet been held:

Edmund Rodman, New Bedford, Mass $1 00

Miss M. J. Coburn, Providence, R.I 20

Miss Mary Dartol, Manchester, Mass 5 co

Miss Bartol's friend i 00

D. B. Williams, Irvington, N. Y 25

Lucy Williams, Irvington, N. Y 23

J. A. WilKams, Irvington, N. Y 25

L. A. Edwards, Irvington, N. Y 25

Charlie Edwards, Irvington, N. Y 25

Harry Edwards, Irving. on, N. Y 25

Margaret Edwards, Irvington, N. Y 25

Bessie Edwards, Irvington, N. Y 25

$9 2°

"CHARLEY'S WONDERFUL JOURNEYS."

These stories have been so cordially appreciated
and have drawn forth such flattering comments from
the readers of the Audubon Magazine, that the
author and publishers have been encouraged to re-
produce them in book' form. The book, which will
be ready for issue in a few days, is a handsome im-
perial octavo volume of 116 pages, thick paper and
large print. It contains some hitherto unpublished
journeys, with a description of Charley's home in a
wild romantic valley in Northern Maine; and in ad-
dition to the admirable illustrations by the elder
Bellew, now deceased, and Bennett, it has been
liberally embellished with drawings by Frank Bellew
(Chip) and Miss Etheldred Breeze Barry. Indeed
no pains have been spared to render it a charming
Christmas gift book. Forest & Stream Publishing
Co. Price, $1.50.

"BIRD PORTRAITS"

Some Native Birds for Little Folks. By Dr.
W. Van Flee'I'. Illustrated by Howard H. Dar-
nell. Forest & Stream Publishing Co. Price,
$3-oo.

This is the title of a tastefully got up imperial
octavo volume, beautifully illustrated by photo-
gravure portraits of the birds described, making it
a pretty and most attractive book for the holiday
season. Nor is the reading matter less attractive.
The large clear type on thick paper makes the read-
ing look so delightfully easy that the smallest chil-
dren, knowing their letters, will confidently attempt
to spell it out. The birds, too, are among the most
familiar to American children, the list comprising
the Robin, Chickadee, Kingfisher, Great Horned
Owl, Bobolink, Blue Jay, Woodcock, Nuthatches,
Meadow Lark, Ruffed Grouse, Cedar Bird, Kildeer
Plover, Summer Duck and Crossbill. The descrip-
tions are written in an entertaining style, rendering
it a very pleasant task for children to familiarize
themselves with the ways and habits of the birds
so charmingly portrayed.

One of the prettiest and most instructive books
for the holiday season. — The Evening Post.

A picture gallery and history of birds in one vol-
ume.— Sandusky Register.

TO THE YOUNG MEMBERS OF THE AUDU-
BON SOCIETY.

Dear Children :

Do you know that you are living in a particularly
good and interesting period of the world's history?
Especially is it true that goodness is made so attrac-
tive and easy nowadays, that we are every day more
readily ashamed of any cruel deed; yet thoughtless
habits are still common and there is a great deal of
unconscious destruction at work on our grand old
earth which it is a pity to think of, and which will
surely cease when all mankind shall have learned to
see clearly and to think rightly.

Let us bless the Audubon Society for showing us
what sad havoc we are making with the beautiful
and useful gifts of the Creator, and prove our grati-
tude to it by taking its principles to our hearts and
standing loyally to our colors, striving at the same
time to bring others to a knowledge of the truth.

How I wish there had been some such society
when I was young ! Now I am middle-aged and
find myself blushing with shame to think I ever
bought a dead bird and thought my hat becoming
with one on it !

The Audubon Note Book.

241

But at that time we were so used to seeing rows
of birds in the milliners' show cases that we looked
upon them almost as manufactured articles — like rib-
bons and velvets, and did not realize that these
birds had to be murdered before they could arrive
at the dignity of becoming millinery. We city
people know but little of birds, our varieties being
so limited, and we imagine that those living in freer
spaces, where birds abound, must love them devoted-
ly; but it is not always so, for only last summer,
when I spoke admiringly to a farmer of the lovely
birds to be seen in numbers on every part of his
farm, I was surprised to find that he had never no-
ticed them particularly, knew nothing of the varie-
ties, and marvelled at my enthusiasm.

Then I remembered Whittier's lines:

" Unto him who stands afar,
Nature's marvels greatest are ! "

— yet this is not always the case either, for the peo-
ple in that vicinity value their birds highly and have
made strict laws to insure their safety.

Flying around this farm where I spent the sum-
mer were robin-redbreasts, bluebirds, swallows, little
brown birds who made their nests in the wheat low
down on the ground, bright yellow birds and wood-
peckers. These last are beautiful and interesting;
the general effect of their coloring is a steel-gray,
but on examination we find that some of their tiny
feathers are black, some white, and many a soft
mouse-color, all blending to make a harmonious
whole — a sort of half mourning little creature. But
though he wears the mourning livery, he does not
devote himself to idle grieving, for he is very active
in his particular line of business, which is to hunt
and capture the insects hiding in the cracks of the
tree-bark; in this search he runs very rapidly around
and around the trunk of a tree, beginning at the
root and working his way up, or starting above and
going down, winking and blinking, pecking and
picking so fast that one cannot believe a grub could
escape. He is so eager and so bright and twitches
and twirls at such a rate, that if you watch one a
little while you will find yourself ready to laugh and
will feel like asking him if he couldn't be a little
more moderate, or if he never had anything to eat
before.

Every one knows the graceful dip of the swallow
in its happy excursions toward cloudland; could one
ever tire of watching him execute his curves and
angles of a joyous freedom ? It was many years
since I had been on a farm, so I was fresh to enjoy
its delights. Often I went with the children to the
field when the mowing was in progress, where we
would stay for hbiirs, lying in the hay-wagon or sit-

ting on heaps of new mown hay, and then the dear
birds always came and entertained us.

Of course we sat very still so that they would hop
around on the ground close to us, picking up grains
and seeds or catching the worms brought into view
by the mowing.

Familiarly and happily they worked and played
together, the robin and the ground bird, the blue-
bird and the yellow.

.Splendid fellow this last, with black tail and wing
tips, and black on his pretty head.

What pleased us most of all was to see several of
them at a time perched on the broad part of a rake
as it stood upright, the handle planted in the ground.
There they would gather, such pretty contrasts, hop-
ping and twittering, balancing airily, sometimes
reverently still for a moment, looking quite con-
templative, as if dimly aware of subtle surrounding
mysteries; now and then breaking forth into a lovely
burst of song and at last flying away happily or
pouncing down on some savory grub, who didn't
know enough to keep out of sight.

All this time the swallows — who are not given to
perching — darting out of their nests under the eaves
of the barn, circled and soared, dipped and swayed,
now close above our heads and then far off in the
heavenly sky, doing so perfectly that which they
were made to do, while quite unconscious of the
vital charm their presence added to this soothing
pastoral scene.

All summer long I watched these lovely creatures
with an interest such as I had never felt before, and
when the Audubon Society was brought to my no-
tice soon after my return to city life I felt that I had
had a special preparation for its work — the seed fell
on plowed ground.

There is one thought, dear children, I want to
leave with you; if you will understand it, it will
help to make you reverent.

It is this: that every bird is "an expression of a
thought of God."

Vou have a thought in your mind and speak it,
then it is a word or a sentence. God makes his
thoughts into forms and they are his words and sen-
tences. He thinks of grace in motion and makes a
swallow; He thinks of sweet music on the summer
air and makes a robin and a thrush; He thinks out
a yellowbird and a bluebird for contrast and puts
them before our eyes to show us how He loves
beauty of form and color, leading us to believe He
loves, therefore, beauty of heart and life.

These all tell His thoughts to us, and the more
reverently we study them the more our minds will
open toward heaven, and the light of His knowledge
shall fall upon us as dew upon the flowers at night.

S. H. B.

EMINENT PEOPLE ON BIRD PROTECTION,

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass., }
2nd mo., 20, 1886. f

Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed Audubon So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 18S6.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
land, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, N. Y., |

Feb. 22, 1886. [

Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my innocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe.

West Park, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and aff'ectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction of our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
the Audubon SocietYo Very sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, \
New York, Feb. 20, 1886. ^
Editor Forest and Stream :

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful tliat such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
ing vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought

By want of thought

As well as by want of heart.
If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stiram:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

E. S. Phelps.

THE HERMIT THRUSH.

( Tiirdiis aonalaschk,c pallasn (Cab.) )

The Audubon Magazine.

Vol. II.

JANUARY, 1889.

No. 12.

THE HERMIT THRUSH.

ONE of our most abundant birds dur-
ing the seasons of migration, and
only at those times, is the Hermit Thrush.
It comes to us in New York and New Eng-
land every spring during the month of April,
lingers for perhaps a month, and in May
takes its flight for its summer home, leav-
ing us as unobtrusively as it came. But
when the harvest has been gathered and
the barns are full, when the ripened leaves
are turning golden and red and brown, and
the shorn stubble lies yellow in the slanting
sunshine, when the nights have become cool
and sometimes in the early morning the
grass of the meadows sparkles with white
hoar frost, then the Hermit Thrush is seen
again hopping silently about at the edge of
the wood or taking short flights from bush
to bush along the hedgerows. In the au-
tumn this bird stays with us longer than in
spring, and sometimes lingers into Decem-
ber, but it is in October that they are most
abundant in our woods. The southern
migration is performed slowly in loitering
fashion, the birds seeming to move singly
and never gathering in flocks.

The Hermit Thrush is a shy, solitary
bird, fond of the deep woods and usually
shunning the fields and open spots. Cur-
iously enough, both Wilson and Audubon
considered this species as almost voiceless.
Wilson supposed it mute, and Audubon
speaks only of its single plaintive note,
while as a matter of fact it is one of our

sweetest songsters. Nuttall, however, al-
ludes to it as scarcely inferior to the night-
ingale in its powers of song, and says that
it "greatly exceeds the wood thrush in the
melody and sweetness of its lays." Its song
has indeed been commented on by all later
writers. As remarked by Dr. Coues, how-
ever, " it may be questioned whether a com-
parison unfavorable to the wood thrush is a
perfectly just discrimination. The weird
associations of the spot where the Hermit
triumphs, the mystery inseparable from the
voice of an unseen musician, conspire to
heighten the effect of the sweet, silvery,
bell-like notes, which beginning soft, low,
and tinkling, rise higher and higher, to end
abruptly with a clear, ringing intonation.
It is the reverse of the lay of the wood
thrush, which swells at once into powerful
and sustained effort, then gradually dies
away, as though the bird were receding
from us; for the song of the Hermit first
steals upon us from afar, then seems to
draw nearer, as if the timid recluse were
weary of solitude, and craved recognition
of its conscious power to please. Yet it is
but a momentary indecision; true to a vow
of seclusion the anchorite is gone again to
its inviolate grotto in the fastnesses of the
swamp, where a world of melody is wasted ■
in its pathetic song of life."

Most of the Hermit Thrushes pass the
winter in the Southern States, and indeed
it is not certain that this bird goes south of

246

The Herviit Thrush.

the United States during its winter migra-
tion. At all events we know that great
numbers of them spend the cold months in
the swamps of Florida, Louisiana and Mis-
sissippi. Its summer home is to the north-
ward. A few, perhaps, rear their young in
northern Massachusetts, but most of them
proceed still further north, and find a con-
genial resting place in the dark and lonely
forests which clothe the almost uninhabited
region between the River St. Lawrence and
Hudson's Bay.

The nest of the Hermit Thrush is built
on or near the ground, and all the earlier
descriptions of it are at fault. Wilson,
Audubon and Nuttall all speak of it as be-
ing placed in the branches of a tree at some
distance from the ground, and in a latitude
far south of where it is now known to breed.
There can be little doubt that they mistook
the nests of a closely allied species, the
olive-backed thrush, for those of the Her-
mit Thrush. Dr. Coues's description of the
nest is as follows:

"The manner in which the nest of the
Hermit Thrush is built, its situation, and
the eggs, are all so similar to the Veery's
[or Wilson's thrush] that one must detect
the shy parents themselves before being
sure which has been found. The nest is
built on the ground or near it, generally in
some low secluded spot; no mud is used in
its composition, the whole fabric being a
rather rude and inartistic matting of with-
ered leaves, weed stalks, bark strips, and
grasses, the coarser and stiffer substances
outside, the finer fibres within. The cup
is small in comparison with the whole size,
owing to the thickness of the walls and of
the base. The eggs are like those of the
robin or wood thrush, in their uniform
greenish blue color, but smaller, measuring
about nine-tenths of an inch in length by
five-eighths in breadth; being thus not dis-
tinguishable from those of the Veery."

The food of the Hermit Thrush consists
for the most part of insects, though in the

autumn they feed to some extent on berries
as do most of the thrushes. A good por-
tion of its time is spent on the ground,
where it hops about in search of its food
among the dead leaves and twigs, flying
when disturbed into the low branches of
the trees or bushes, uttering a plaintive note
of alarm.

The true Hermit Thrush is confined to
Eastern North America, but two near re-
latives of this species are found on the
West. One of these, the Dwarf Hermit
Thrush, occurs chiefly along the Pacific
Coast, from Alaska to Lower California;
the other, Audubon's Hermit Thrush, in-
habits the Rocky Mountain Region. Both
of these races resemble closely the Hermit
Thrush and can only be distinguished from
it by an ornithologist, but besides some
trifling differences in color the Dwarf is
slightly smaller and Audubon's a little
larger than the Eastern bird. The habits
of all of these birds are essentially the same
and one account will do for all of them.

The illustration is reproduced from
Audubon's plate of this species and repre-
sents two of these birds on the branches
of a bush called "robin wood," on the
berries of which these birds and many
others feed in autumn.

The Hermit Thrush in general appear-
ance is closely like the familiar wood
thrush, but is much smaller, and the color
of the upper parts is a dull olive brown
very different from the bright rufus tint of
the feathers of that bird. Its length is
seven inches, and across its extended wings
it measures ten and one-half. Above it is
deep olive brown in color, below dull white,
the neck and breast spotted with dark
brown. The secondary wing coverts are
marked with concealed spots of yellow.
The bill is blackish brown above and yel-
lowish below. The iris is dark brown and
the feet and legs white. The female is a
little larger and a little darker than the
male.

ALEXANDER ^VILSON.

DURING the next two or three years
Wilson resided principally at Phila-
delphia, writing and superintending the
bringing out of his work, varying these
sedentary occupations with extensive ex-
cursions into the neighboring country. The
coloring of the plates gave him a great deal
of trouble, this branch of the art being but
little understood in this country, and, in his
desire to make his illustrations as true to
nature as possible, he endeavored to mas-
ter its difficulties, and with fair success, for
his biographer tells us that he wrought at
this department himself.

In 1 812 Wilson set out on an expedition
into the Eastern States, ostensibly for the
purpose of visiting his subscribers and set-
tling accounts with his agents, but from a
short letter written to Mr. George Ord, giv-
ing an account of his excursion, it is evi-
dent that if he attended to his business as
author, he managed to mingle with his busi-
ness the pleasures of his pursuits as a nat-
uralist. As this letter is the last of the
series from which his biography was com-
piled, and of no great length, we give it in
full.

"Boston, October 13, 1812.
''To Mr. George Ord:

" Dear Sir : It is not in my power at
present to give you anything more than a
slight sketch of my ramble since leaving
Philadelphia. My route up the Hudson
afforded great pleasure mingled with fre-
quent regret that you were not along with
me to share the enjoyment. About thirty
miles south of Albany we passed within ten
miles of the celebrated Catskil Mountains,
a gigantic group clothed with forest to the
summits. In the river here I found our
common reed {Tizanta aquaticd) growing
in great abundance in shoals extending
across the middle of the river. I saw flocks

of redwings and some black ducks, but no
rail or reed birds. From this place my
journey led me over a rugged mountainous
country to Lake Champlain, along which I
coasted as far as Burlington in Vermont.
Here I found the little coot-footed tringa
or phalarope that you sent to Mr. Peale; a
new and elegantly marked hawk; and ob-
served some black ducks. The shores are
alternate sandy bays and rocky headlands
running into the lake. Every tavern was
crowded with officers, soldiers and travel-
ers. Eight of us were left without a bed;
but having an excellent great coat I laid
myself down in a corner with a determina-
tion of sleeping in defiance of the uproar
of the house and the rage of my com-
panions who would not disgrace them-
selves by a prostration of this sort. From
Lake Champlain I traversed a rude moun-
tainous region to Connecticut River, a
hundred miles above Dartmouth College.
I spent several days with the gun in Grafton
and Ryegate townships, and made some
discoveries. From this I coasted along
the Connecticut to a place called Haver-
hill, ten miles from the foot of Moose hil-
lock, one of the highest of the White Moun-
tains of New Hampshire. I spent the
greater part of a day in ascending to the
peak of one of these majestic mountains,
whence I had the most sublime and aston-
ishing view that was ever afforded me.
The immensity of forest lay below, extend-
ing on all sides to the furthest verge of the
horizon; while the only prominent objects
were the columns of smoke from burning
woods that rose from various parts of the
earth beneath to the heavens; for the day
was beautiful and serene. Hence I traveled
to Dartmouth and thence in a direct course
to Boston. From Boston I passed through
Portsmouth to Portland and got some

2 48

Alexandcj' Wilson.

things new. My return was by a different
route. I have procured three new and
beautiful hawks; and have gleaned up a
stock of materials that will be useful to me
hereafter.

" I hope, my dear sir, that you have been
well since I left you. I have myself been
several times afflicted with a violent palpi-
tation of the heart, and want to try whether
a short voyage by sea will be beneficial or
not.

" In New England the rage of war, the
virulence of politics, and the pursuit of
commercial speculations engross every fa-
culty. The voice of science and the charms
of nature, unless these last present them-
selves in prize sugars, coffee or rum, are
treated with contempt."

There are few additional records of the
short remaining term of Wilson's life. The
seventh part of the "Ornithology" was far
advanced and soon after its publication
Wilson set out accompanied by Mr. Ord on
an expedition to Egg Harbor to procure
materials for the eighth volume which
would principally have contained the ma-
rine waterfowl. This was his last expedi-
tion and occupied nearly four months. On
returning to Philadelphia the anxiety to
perfect the forthcoming volume, which he
thought would bring his labors nearly to a
conclusion, and show him the end of a
work to which he looked for the achieve-
ment of a lasting reputation, brought on an
attack of his old complaints, which had
gradually become more frequent when his
mind or body was harassed or agitated for
the accomplishment of any favorite project.
His last illness is said to have been caused
by a cold contracted during a long chase
after some much desired bird, in the course
of which and when much overheated he
swam several rivers and small creeks; the
immediate cause of his death was dysen-
tery to which he had acquired a chronic
tendency by previous exposure, and to this
last and fatal attack he succumbed after an

illness of ten days at the early age of forty-
seven years, leaving the task he had allotted
himself in some measure incomplete, but
not before he had fairly earned the reputa-
tion for which he had so ardently craved.
As a poet he still enjoys a local reputation
in his birthplace, but his claim to our re-
cognition rests on his labors as an ornithol-
ogist. He is the pioneer ornithologist of
the United States, a man who traveled far,
observed carefully, and scrupulously re-
frained from making any statements which
were not of his knowledge, thus establish-
ing a knowledge of the birds of America
upon a sound foundation which became the
starting point for future observers.

C. W. Webber closes his resume of Wil-
son's career with the following critical re-
marks:

"We will not add to the gloom which
followed the illustrious life of poor Wilson
to his grave by any officious comments
upon the tenor of this short narrative. - 1
will add, though, that it should be remem-
bered, in forming any judgment of that
strange moody man, that he had bitter
woes enough to contend with, not only in
his friendless early days, but in the harsh
isolation of his weary wanderings and un-
appreciated after-life, to have grown a gall
beneath an angel's wing.

"Withal, the bursts of sunshine and exul-
tation which shone through his eloquent
writings often show that his inner self
had fed healthfully sometimes upon the
pure and peaceful teaching of his gentle
pursuits. He was a man whose pro-
found genius, darkened by misfortune, was
sombrely illuminated by a noble enthusi-
asm. He, too, may be accepted as a hun-
ter-naturalist, but not as first among them
all. To J. J. Audubon, undoubtedly, that
high place belongs, though this has been
disputed by many, and even Christopher
North has been found to assert them as
' equals.'

" When the noble work of Wilson, the

Our Winter Birds.

249

unknown Scotchman, began to make its
appearance, ornithology among us was in
its infancy, and the freshness of his hardy
original genius was promptly recognized
and keenly relished abroad, in contrast
with the stale, unprofitable treatment of
the predominant schools of the technico-
lists. It was at once perceived how much
the attractiveness of his object was height-
ened by the circumstances of his personal
intimacy and association with the creatures
■described in many of the conditions of nat-
ural freedom. His fine descriptions had the
flavor of the wilderness about them. His
birds were living things, and led out the
heart in yearning through the scenes of a
primeval earth to recognize them in their
own wild homes, singing to the solitude
from some chosen spray, or plying with
careless grace, on busy wing, their curious
sports and labors."

* * *

" While the biographies of Wilson were
full of natural spirit, of grace and power,
greatly beyond all his predecessors, yet
those of Audubon are far more minute and
carefully detailed, introducing us, one after

another, to a more intimate fellowship with
each individual of the wide family of his
love, through every piquant and distinctive
trait of gesture, air, and movement, char-
acterizing all the phases of their nature —
without the faults of generalization, and
too much credence to hearsay, or a
gloomy and unphilosophic spirit, since the
mild and loving geniality of childhood
breathes through every line."

But in instituting a comparison between
the result of the labors of Alexander Wil-
son and those of his great contemporary
John James Audubon, it should always be
borne in mind that the latter were the fruits
of a long life time, while Wilson-'s labors
were concentrated into the little space of
seven years.

His private life was irreproachable, his
character estimable, and many of those
with whom his literary labors brought him
in contact became warmly attached friends.

He was buried in the burial ground of
the old Swedes Church at Philadelphia,
and the account of a recent visit to his
grave by Mrs. Helen V. Austin in this
present number will be read with interest.

OUR WINTER BIRDS

IN THE VICINITY OF DUNSTABLE, MIDDLESEX CO., MASS.

HOW many birds have we got in win-
ter ? I do not know of any ! say
some. I never saw but two or three birds,
say others, that perhaps have lived in the
country all their lives.

But here is a boy that says: "I know,
there's the jay bird and chickadee, some-
times crows, and one winter I saw an owl."
That's right, my boy, now just keep your
eyes and ears open, and soon you may get
sight of a number of other varieties. On
cloudy or stormy days you may especially
look out for owls. You may see one on a
tree by a meadow or perhaps you see one
flying, with a flight similar to the hawks.

only the period of sailing is much smaller.
Although thirteen species of owls are
given by Prof. W. A. Stearns as occurring
in New England, but few observers would
be likely to be fortunate enough to observe
much more than one-half that number,
alive, in a lifetime.

Whenever we are in the vicinity of woods
or meadows, even near villages, the watch-
ful eye may get a glimpse of a great horned
owl {-Bubo virginianus) also called "bat
owl," "hoot owl," or " hooter." This bird
may be known by its large size and dark
color. On rare occasions we may possibly
see the snowy owl {Nyctea scandiaca) or

250

Our Winter Birds.

the still more rare great gray owl [Strtx
cinerea). Both these are of very large size
and light color.

Sometimes we may also get sight of the
barred owl or smooth head {^Strix nebulosd).
This species is a little smaller than the
great horned and can be distinguished if
near, by the absence of eartufts and a much
more ashy shade than the great horned.
A specimen of the screech owl {Scops asio)
may possibly be found in some barn loft,
outhouse or hollow tree. This little owl is
very similar to the great horned except in
size, being only about nine inches long.
A peculiarity of this species is their two
styles of dress, the red and gray plumage.
Why this freak of coloration (without ap-
parent relation to sex, age or season) I do
not think has been fully explained.

We may also look for the longear owl
{Asio wilsonianus), the shortear owl {Asio
accipitrinus) and the little saw whet owl
{Nyctala acadica), the latter being smaller
than the screecher, and resembling the
barred in form and color.

As this family are all nocturnal in their
habits, and are trapped extensively, they
are not likely to be observed very fre-
quently.

The bluejay {Cyanocitta cristatd) and
black-capped chickadee {Pants atricapil-
liis) are probably our best known, as well
as our most common winter birds.

Perhaps the tree sparrow {Spizella moii-
ticola) is our next most common bird,
as it is often seen in this section in quite
large flocks. This bird resembles our chip-
ping sparrow, or hair bird of summer, very
much, but is a larger and stouter bird.

The quail or Bob-White {Ortyx virgini-
ana) and partridge, or ruffed grouse {£on-
asa umbella), may often be seen quite near
buildings, or by the roadside, as we drive
by. A bird of the latter species flew against
the side of our house, a few years ago, with
sufficient force to kill it. At a neighbor's
one flew through a glass window into their

pantry, and made sad havoc among the
dishes, etc.

A few specimens of the crow {Corvus
frugivorus') usually remain with us all
winter in certain localities. The great
northern shrike or butcher bird {Lanius
^borealis) visits us occasionally, from the
north. This bird is a little less in size
than our common jay, has a smooth head
and toothed bill, is of a slaty gray color,
with black (or dark) wings, white tipped,
and light breast with very fine wavy lines
of slate.

The Canada jay {Perisorcus ca7iadensis)
may occur here rarely. I remember of a
specimen being shot some years ago a few
miles from here. Size somewhat smaller
than common jay, marked similar, with
slate in place of blue. Has no crest on
head.

We may be on the watch at any time
for one of the two varieties of wood-
peckers that remain here all winter, the
hairy {Pic us viilosits) or the downy {Piciis
piibesccns). Or for either of the nut-
hatches, with their peculiar qiiank note,
and their interesting gymnastics about tree
trunks.

The white-bellied nuthatch {Sitta caro-
iineiisis) and red-bellied {Siffa canadensis^
are sometimes seen through the winter.

The linnets of the finch family, especially
the redpoll linnet {^-Egiothi/s linaria), and
pine linnet {Chrysomitris pinus) are com-
mon through the winter. They may be
seen frequently on birch trees, feeding on
the seeds.

A peculiar, and somewhat common, win-
ter visitor and resident is the red crossbill
{Loxia curvirostra americand). This bird
has a strong hooked bill, the upper man-
dible crossing over the under. They feed
largely on pine seeds.

I will also mention the snow bunting or
snowflake {Plectrophaites nivalis), which,
when seen flying over, looks much like a
snowflake in color. Specimens vary much^

The Grave of Alexander Wilson.

251

but usually have black or dark on back
and wings. Size somewhat less than robin
redbreast.

As this locality is some distance from
the coast, and most of our water is frozen
over during the winter, we do not get
many visits from the water birds except
now and then a few merganser ducks or an
occasional grebe.

In a list from memory of birds that we

may expect through the winter, I have
thirty-six. Divided as follows: common
winter residents twelve, rare residents or
common visitors eight, rare or accidental
visitors sixteen.

So, although we may be out days, with-
out seeing anything but jays, we can feel
assured that there are birds around, and
perhaps the next time we will see many
species in a short time.

C. W. Swallow.

THE GRAVE OF ALEXANDER WILSON,

IT was a breezy day in spring when I set
out to visit the grave of Alexander
Wilson, a day "when all the world gives
promise of something sweet to come." The
fragrance of tender grass and swelling buds
filled the air. After the city was reached
the horse cars conveyed me within a short
distance of the sacred spot.

The grave of Wilson is in the burial
ground of Gloria Dei, more familiarly
known as the old Swedes' church, at Phila-
delphia. It is in that part of the city which
is frequently spoken of as old Philadelphia.
Many of the names of the old Swedish set-
tlers are still attached to the locality, Swan-
son street being one of the old landmarks.
The place was called Wiccaco by the Indians,
meaning a pleasant place, and this name
still lives as marking certain points in the
neighborhood. The primitive log church,
or "Swedes' House," was also called the
Wiccaco Church, and there was originally
attached to it twenty-seven acres. The
present church was built in 1700. The
square black and gray bricks of which it is
built were brought from England. The
church has passed from the original owners,
the Lutherans, and is now owned by the
Episcopalians.

The historian tells us that Alexander
Wilson desired to be laid at rest where
birds amid the trees, might sing over his

grave. It was a pleasant place in days of
old, but now, alas! the place is changed.
The church yard is surrounded with human-
ity and traffic. It is true the broad Dela-
ware flows on majestic to the sea, just be-
yond the church and its precinct ; but a
street, with a railroad track in the center,
over which pass unsightly freight trains,
bounds the wall of the grounds, and beyond
the street grain elevators and warehouses
shut out the river view. There is no hint
of the river except the tall masts of ships
that tower above the buildings. In old
times the church stood on an elevated river
bank, but now the street is cut down and
the river is pushed back, as it were, by fill-
ing in, and instead of the entrance to the
grounds being on Swanson street, it is on
Oswego street, on its west side. Here is
an iron fence, and over the arched gateways
the legend "Gloria Dei." A stone walk
leads through the silent city of the dead to
the church. The quaint old church is of
the utmost interest, but we pass it by at
this time, and examine the still more quaint
tablets that mark the graves of those who
were first laid to rest in this historic spot.
Many of the inscriptions have been obliter-
ated by time. Passing along the narrow
walk between the mounds with their unpre-
tending tablets, it is easy to discern the
o-rave of Wilson. It is marked by an in-

252

Evas Equestrianism.

closed white marble tomb, rising about
three feet above the ground, without carv-
ing except the inscription on the slab, which
is as follows:

This Monument

covers the remains of

ALEXANDER WILSON,

Author of the

American Ornithology.

He was born in Renfrewshire, Scotland,

On the 6 July, 1766,

Emigrated to the United States

In the year 1794,

And died in Philadelphia

On the 23 August, 1813.

Aged 47.

hin-nio stat sine mortc decus.

There are some venerable deciduous trees
and a few arbor vitses growing here, and
the place has an air of restful sanctity about
it, but there is no deep shade nor tangle of
vines nor seclusion; nothing of the rural
cemetery aspect which Wilson would have
loved, or that would invite the birds to build

their nests and sing above his grave. The
European sparrows clustered about the ad-
joining buildings, uttering their discordant,
complaining notes, which was more like a
mockery of the wishes of the great orni-
thologist than silence would have been.

Commerce, merchandise, and the dwell-
ings of the uncultivated and illiterate bound
this little cemetery on every side. The old
church with its sacred associations and his-
toric record is visited by hundreds annually,
and this will always be a remembered spot,
never to fall into neglect. But no song
birds wake the silence with their sweet
minstrelsy above Wilson's grave to-day.

But what matters it ? His genius has made
the world better. Somewhere his thrushes
are singing in woodland and meadow, and
the bluebirds will not forget their old haunts.
Somewhere "the robin's breast of golden
brown is trembling with an ancient tune."
Somewhere an oriole is swinging in her nest,
and somewhere at sunset the wood larks will
say "Good night."

Helen N . Austin.

EVA'S EQUESTRIANISM.

EVA'S home is a modern farmhouse
surrounded by orchards and groves
of forest trees. Within its doors hospitality
and goodwill abound. Eva is a sturdy
little maiden of twelve years, a born natur-
alist, who knows from observation the
habits of birds and bees, of crabs and frogs,
and of all animals, whether aerial, creeping,
aquatic or amphibious, that are to be found
within the limits of her father's farm. In
her "hunting expeditions," as she calls
them, she discovers many thing both inter-
esting and amusing, and the encyclopedia
in the library decides for her all vexed
questions. She does not disdain the usual
occupations of maidens of her age, such
as learning lessons, practicing music and
''helping mamma," but in add'tion to these

accomplishments she can construct wonder-
ful cottages of moss; she can catch crabs,
searching them out in their homes by the
brookside with unerring eye; she can tell
you where to find birdnests innumerable,
how many eggs are in each, their differ-
ence of color and marking, and the habits
of the parent birds; the metamorphosis of
wrigglers and polliwogs and caterpillars
are familiar facts which observation has
demonstrated. Snakes have no horrors
for her. If she wishes to call upon the
neighbors on a dark summer evening (the
nearest one being one-eighth of a mile dis-
tant) her torch is a branch of the cat-tail
willow dipped in kerosene. Indeed the
girls who are pent up in crowded cities
can form a very inadequate conception of

Evas Equestrianism.

253

the delights encompassed within a farm
through which runs a babbling stream;
and I am sure many of them would delight
in the natural unrestrained expansion of
faculties that gives to Eva her sturdy
frame, her bright eyes and eager searching
mind.

But Eva's chief exploit is her horseback
riding. She cannot remember the time
when she did not delight to visit the stables,
and when her papa or the " hired man "
would put her upon the back of the most
venerable equine and walk solemnly by her
side as the trusty steed made his circuit of
the barnyard, her cup of happiness was
full. Of late, however, she has done con-
siderable riding without the service of a
groom, but the only horse which she is
permitted to use is Jim — old and slow and
sure. Equestrianism is a curious art which
cannot be readily mastered, and though
Jim is sure, /. t., sure not to run away, he
is equally sure to do whatever he pleases
when there is no stronger hand than Eva's
upon the rein. And why should he not?
Has not Eva petted him and fed him sugar
since she was a wee toddling mite that he
could have crushed with his foot, and is he
now to give up his will and go cantering
over the country when it pleases him to go
to the stable and eat oats? Ah no ! Jim
is too wise for that, and when he chooses
to turn his head toward home Eva s ride is
at an end.

It so happened that on a particular
morning Eva was required to take a mes-
sage to the nearest neighbor's, and throw-
ing a blanket upon Jim (her riding is done
without a side-saddle and therefore at great
disadvantage) she started off. It was a
bright summer morning and Jim was dis-
posed to take suitable exercise. Eva drew
up to the door, delivered her message to

Mrs. H , and, as she was leaving the

yard, decided to go on to the next house
and speak with her friend Hattie. She
therefore pulled Jim's head to the left, but
he, having exercised sufficiently, turned
obstinately to the right. Evidently he
meant to keep his head toward home, and
Eva was apparently powerless. The dis-
comfited midget, poised upon the broad
back of the powerful animal, called a halt
to enable her to consider matters. She
was a maiden of many resources, and,
knowing that from years of training, Jim
would not fail to obey the word of com-
mand, however he might disregard her
slight grasp of the bridle-rein, she deter-
mined to make him back down the road
until she reached her friend's home. No
doubt Jim was somewhat puzzled, but he
slowly backed himself down that long
stretch of country road, guided by Eva's
persistent voice, until finally the coveted
council with Hattie was held. This being
over, Eva, delighted at the success of her
strategy, and disgusted with the obstinacy
of her charger, chirruped "get up," and
they proceded at a moderately rapid pace
toward home, the horse's head now being
first in order of advance, as is the normal
manner of equine locomotion.

Eva and the few friends who know of
this exploit indulge in considerable laughter
over her unique method of progressing
backward. She will soon be the happy
possessor of a side-saddle, and no doubt
will become, in future years, an accom-
plished equestrienne.

It is proper to say in closing that Eva is
an enthusiastic member of the Audubon
Society, and her name is on the subscrip-
tion list of this magazine. It is easy to
conjecture her astonishment as she reads
this sketch.

Mary E. Shults.

FORT PLAIN.

CHARLEY'S WONDERFUL JOURNEYS,

JOURNEY XII.

" T UST look," said the leading Elephant,
I as the whole troop came to a halt
within a stone's throw of Charley, "there's
a white or pinkish-colored boy, and if we
manage carefully we shall be able to catch
him, and break him in to attend to the lit-
tle white Elephant."

"If you please," said Charley, stepping

"Yes, if you please," said Charley," I
should like to try it very much."

"This is capital," said the little white
Elephant, " I never would let one of those
black fellows ride me, but I don't mind you.
Do you know how to mount ? Just put one
foot on the end of my trunk now I bend it
— ^you may step on my foot first, I have no
corns — take one ear in each hand, walk
right up to the top of my head — so — now
turn right round, and slide down on my
neck, and sit down comfortably. You'll
have good times with me; no fodder to cut
or carry, because I'm a white Elephant; only
to go out with the troop in the morning for
exercise, take me to water, and give me my

"just put one foot on the end of my trunk and take one ear in each hand,

forward, and raising his hat, " I should like
very much to have the little white Elephant
to ride and attend to."

"Just listen to him," said the first speaker,
as a grunt of approval ran through the whole
troop. " Why, he talks as rationally as an
Elephant. He maybe able to teach all our
men servants to talk, and if they are too
stupid, he might help us learn their lan-
guage. Are you willing to enter our ser-
vice, and ride the white Elephant?" he
asked of Charley.

bath, and then keep the flies off the rest of
the day. You needn't make any bread —
need he ? (this to the chief Elephant). The
man that bakes my cakes, can bake yours
also."

Charley conceived a dim idea that the
possession of a white Elephant might prove
monotonous after a while, and that to be
possessed by a white Elephant might be
something still worse, and as the men kept
silent all this time, the remarks made by the
Elephants left Charley a little in doubt as

Charley s Wonderful Jour7ieys.

255

to whether they or the men were the mas-
ters, so he kept his mouth shut and his ears
open.

The chief Elephant observing his silence
attempted to range up alongside of him for
conversation, but was checked by his rider,
who misunderstood his intentions. "You

very intelligent, of course; men are intelli-
gent beyond question. We can send them
up to cut branches of the fig tree far out of
our reach; they have a knack, too, of load-
ing a day's supply on our backs so that we
can carry it without its falling off; they plow
the ground, too, and raise grain, and grind

^YES, that's nice," SAUJ HE, AS CHARLEY USED THE STIFF SCRUBBING BRUSH VIGORORSLY.

stupid brute," roared the Elephant, "can't
you keep still ? I've a good mind to pull
you down and trample you under foot for
digging that nasty iron into my raw spot,"

The rider sat stupidly stolid, for he didn't
understand a word of what was said.

" If we could only make them understand
us," said the Elephant to Charley, "we
could do something with them. They are

it, and bake the flour into cakes; and they
know how to draw water, and to wash and
scrub us. In fact, without man we could
never have reached our present state of
civilization. But they try one's temper
dreadfully sometimes, and if it wasn't that
we can't do without them, I should some-
times be tempted to run amuck, trample
the whole village under foot, and go back

256

Charley s Wondei'fiil Journeys.

to the jungles again. If we could only
make them understand our language we
could easily keep them in awe."

These remarks were received by a gen-
eral grunt of approval.

" Didn't you always keep men to do
things for you ?" asked Charley.

"Oh, no," replied the Elephant, ''we
used to run wild in the woods, and do the
best we could, and, of course, had nothing
but trees to browse on; but we came to a
sort of understanding with the men, that if
we would come and protect them from the
big cats, which they are so much afraid of,
they would render us faithful service, but
they are always trying to encroach, and
assuming to be masters, or shirking their
duties, but worst of all is their inability to
learn our language. If we didn't learn
something of their language there could be
no communication whatever between us,
and the aggravating thing is, that the more
we learn the more we have to give in to their
way of doing things, and with all their in-
telligence they are dreadfully self-willed
creatures."

"There's a mosquito just behind you,
boring into my shoulder," said the white
Elephant to Charley, " I wish you'd flatten
him. Here, this will make a nice whisk,"
he continued, as he pulled up a small sap-
ling and drew it through his trunk to strip
off all the leaves but the crown tuft, then
biting off the root, he handed, or rather
trunked it up to Charley, and instructed him
to keep it going vigorously before and be-
hind, as the flies were getting troublesome.

They soon arrived at a fig tree grove, and
the men, knowing their duty, went up to
chop branches while the Elephants browsed
under the trees, picked up the fallen limbs,
and placed them on their backs.

The white Elephant, having no load to
carry, strolled from tree to tree, picking up
the juiciest shoots, and occasionally remind-
ing Charley of his duty, which, although not
heavy, began at length to feel irksome.

The loading came to an end, the troop
started for home, stopping to take in a
liberal supply of water at a creek which they
crossed on the way, went home and munch-
ed away at the fig branches while their cakes
were being got ready and baked; the white
Elephant got his daily ration or tribute of
raw sugar, the cakes were all disposed of,
Charley getting his ration with the rest, and
after dinner the Elephants began to call
loudly and impatiently for their bath.

"This is what I call the pleasantest hour
of the day," remarked the white Elephant
to Charley as he lay on his side with out-
stretched limbs after the first jet of water
had been splashed over him. " I must teach
you to handle the scrubbing brush nicely,
for the worst of these black fellows is that
if I tell them where it itches they don't
understand. I may as well tell them my
knee as my elbow. Yesterday it was itch-
ing inside my ear, and I kept telling the fel-
low, but it was no good. Then I flapped
my ear until at last he understood; but
really, you know, it looks so ridiculous, and
signs are not like speech; how can you
make signs to a man that you want him to
scratch you between the toes?"

"Yes, that's nice," said he as Charley
used the stiff scrubbing brush vigorously.
" Now scrub the insides of my arms, and
look carefully if there is any scurf in the
folds of the skin at the armpits."

And so he went on giving his orders, and
rolling over, and having more water spurted
upon him until Charley was ready to drop.
He made up his mind that he had had quite
enough of white Elephants, and determined
to escape as soon as night set in.

Perhaps the white Elephant had his sus-
picions, for while Charley was fanning him
later in the day, he cautioned him to lie
very close to him at night, because of the
big cats which were prowling around all
night, and which were big enough to eat
him almost at a mouthful.

Charley shuddered, but all the same he

Bird Migration in the Mississippi Valley.

257

determined to escape, and when evening
came and tlie white Elephant lay down,
Charley pretended to be asleep and lay
quite still until he heard him snore, then
rising quietly he stole through the jungle
to a clump of tall trees with dense foliage
in which he might lie concealed and pass
the night.

He gained the clump, selected one of the
slenderest trees, and just commenced the
ascent when he heard a rushing and a shout-
ing from the direction of the camp; he be-
gan to climb as rapidly as possible, but be-
fore he could get far the white Elephant
was upon him, and just succeeded in grasp-

ing him firmly by the ankle with the end of
his trunk.

Charley clung to the tree with despera-
tion, and the Elephant tugged with all his
might, until Charley felt his strength giving
way. Whatever put it into his head he does
not know to this day, but at the critical
moment, when his strength was giving way,
he shouted, " Mother ! mother ! " with all
the strength of his lungs.

"Charley, Charley, my darling boy!"
came the prompt response, and Charley
sprang up in bed with the pillow tightly
clutched in his arms, and dropped it quickly
to be folded in the embrace of his mother.

C. F. Amery.

BIRD MIGRATION IN THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY.

THIS interesting report, prepared by
Prof. W. W. Cooke, with the assist-
ance of Mr. Otto Widman and Prof. D. E.
Lang, and edited by Dr. C. Hart Merriam,
is the first fruit of the co-operative labors
of the Division of Economic Ornithology
of the Department of Agriculture and the
Committee on Bird Migration of the Ameri-
can Ornithologists' Union. Every observer
of nature is acquainted with the fact that
although we have some birds native to the
soil, birds that are always with us, and
others which sojourn with us only in sum-
mer or winter, a great many of our familiar
birds are only spring and fall visitors, birds
of passage, which pause but a while for
rest and refreshment on their long journey
to and from their breeding grounds in the
far North, and their winter feeding grounds
in the tropics; but until now very little has
been known of their rate of flight, the
measure of its continuity, or of the relation
of waves of migration to barometric pres-
sure and temperature, on all of which points
the systematic measures recorded in the
present report have thrown clear light.
One hundred and seventy observers, more

or less familiar with ornithology, were sta-
tioned at various points along the line of
flight, and their recorded observations of
the first and last appearance of each spe-
cies, and of the flight of great waves of
birds, afforded, on careful comparison with
each other, fairly reliable data for deter-
mining the rate of flight of each species,
and a vast number of facts in connection
with the interesting phenomenon of bird
migration. The report consists of two
parts, (i) an introductory portion treating
of the history and methods of the work, to-
gether with a general study of the subject
of bird migration, including the influence
of the weather upon the movements of
birds, the progression of bird waves, and
causes affecting the same, the influence of
topography and altitude upon migration,
and the rates of flight in the various spe-
cies; and (2) a systematic portion in which
the five hundred and sixty species of birds
known to occur in the Mississippi Valley are
treated serially, the movements of each
during the seasons of 1884 and 1885 be-
ing traced with as much exactness as the
records of the one hundred and seventy ob-

258

Bird Migration in the Mississippi Valley.

servers admitted of. Some of these ob-
servers had but an indifferent knowledge
of ornithology, and as their records dealt
wholly with questions of fact their returns
were criticised closely before being accepted
as facts. On this subject the editor, Dr. C.
Hart Merriam, in his prefatory report says,
"Here the editor has deemed it his duty to
make the subject matter conform to the
present state of knowledge on the subject.
With this end in view changes have been
made freely, and the portion relating to
the geographical distribution of the various
species and subspecies have been largely re-
written." This revision he tells us in a foot
note "consisted in rewriting the habitats of
most of the species and subspecies; in cast-
ing out some forms which had been in-
cluded upon erroneous identification or in-
sufficient evidence, in correcting statements
of fact, in transferring (in a few cases) the
notes sent under a stated species or sub-
species to a nearly related species or sub-
species," and a variety of other matter in-
volving a vast amount of labor in which he
acknowledges having received valuable as-
sistance from Mr. Robert Ridgway, Curator
of Birds in the U. S. National Museum.
Indeed, as Dr. Merriam observes in his
prefatory letter, there need be no hesitancy
in expressing the belief that the present
report is the most valuable contribution
ever made to the subject of bird migration.
It is only natural that a man of Professor
Cooke's attainments while engaged in re-
cording the facts of bird migration, should
be tempted to speculate upon the causes of
this remarkable phenomenon, and give the
world the benefit of his conclusions. On
this subject he says: "Without entering
into a discussion of the causes which long
ago started birds on their periodical change
of habitation, we shall not be far out of the
way in considering their present migrations
the result of inherited experience. To be
more explicit, the first migrations were
doubtless very limited in extent, and prob-

ably were intelligent movements which,
through repetition, became habitual, and
the habit was transmitted from parent to
offspring until it has become as we see it
now, the governing impulse of the bird's
life. It is undoubtedly true that love of
the nesting ground, which is to them their
home, is the foundation of the desire for
migration; and year after year they find
their way thousands of miles back to the
same box or tree by the exercise of memory.
Not always the memory of the individual,
but the memory inherited from numberless
preceding generations which have passed
and repassed over the same route. * * *
The return movement is obviously the re-
sult of two causes — the approach of winter
and the failure of the food supply. * * *
Nevertheless it is as yet unexplained why
some birds, notably many of the warblers,
retire in winter to such a great distance
south, some even crossing the equator and
passing several hundred miles beyond.
Certainly neither cold nor hunger can be
be the cause of such wanderings."

Dr. Merriam in his prefatory letter ex-
presses himself as dissenting generally
from Professor Cooke's theories, and one
point in the theories above enunciated is
so opposed to his views, that he has no
hesitation is criticising it sharply in a foot
note.

"I cannot concur," he writes "with Pro-
fessor Cooke in the belief that love of the
nesting ground * * * jg |-]^g foundation
of the desire for migration. In a lecture
on Bird Migration which it was my privilege
to deliver in the U. S. National Museum,
April 3, 1886, I said "Some ornithologists
of note have laid special stress upon the
strong home affection which prompts birds
to leave the south and return to their
breeding grounds. To me this explanation
is forced and unnecessary. Birds desert
their winter homes because their food
supply fails; because the climatic conditions
become unsuited to their need, because

Bird Legends.

259

the approach of the breeding season gives
rise to physiological restlessness and be-
cause they inherit an irresistible impulse to
move at this particular time of the year."

There appears no ground whatever for
the theory that love of the nesting ground
is the foundation of the desire for migra-
tion— migration originated from the nest-
ing ground, not to it — but there is no rea-
son to doubt that birds are subject to a
play of varied sentiments, and that along
with the recognized necessity of migration
on account of food supply and anticipated
climatic changes, there is a pleasurable ex-
citement such as we ourselves experience
from anticipated change of scene and cli-
mate, whether those anticipations are based
on old associations, as with the old birds,
or are aroused in young birds by actual
information, or by sympathy with the ex-
citement of their elders, and the mere re-
visiting the nesting ground has probably a
share in the pleasurable excitement aroused;
but when Dr. Cooke theorizes about "in-
herited memory" we must confess ourselves
at a loss to understand him. When he
says that the memory which enables migrat-
ing birds to find their way to and from
their summer feeding grounds "is not the

memory of the individual, but the memory
inherited from numberless preceding gen-
erations which have passed and repassed
over the same road," he entrenches himself
in depths in which we cannot venture to
follow him. The faculty of memory is in-
herited, and may be strengthened from
generation to generation by exercise, but
the incidents or experiences of the birds of
one age cannot be remembered by their
descendants, by an effort of their own mem-
ory. At least there is nothing in human
experience to warrant such a belief.

In fact, although some acts of both man
and the lower animals must be character-
ized as instinctive, the old creed that the
lower animals perform all their actions in-
stinctively is steadily being replaced by the
view that the lives of the lower animals are
regulated by mental processes akin to our;
and that although their reflective powers
may be vastly more contracted, their facul-
ties of observation are so immeasurably
superior, that it appears safer to conclude
that their mental faculties are equal to the
apprehension of the conditions necessary
to self-preservation, than to attribute their
actions to so obscure and little understood
a force as instinct.

BIRD LEGENDS.

AMONGST birds of good omen, the
swallow occupies the most promi-
nent position, and fully shares the popular-
ity of the stork. In Swabia, swallows are
called "God's birds," and in Silesia, "Our
Lady's birds," because at break of day they
twitter a song in her praise; while in the
Ober Inn Valley, in the Tyrol, it is said
that the swallows assisted the Almighty to
construct heaven. At Maran they time
their arrival and departure by the festivals
of the Blessed Virgin. They appear at the

Feast of the Annunciation, and on the
Eighth of September:

" At Mary's birth,
The swallows fly off. "

There is a general belief throughout
Germany, that the house where they built
their nests is blessed and protected from
all evil. In the Ober Inn Valley people
say there is no strife where swallows build,
and in the Oetz Valley their presence
makes a village wealthy, and prosperity
departs with them. It is customary in

26o

Bird Legends.

some parts of Westphalia to leave the whi-
tlows open day and night in summer, in
order that the birds may have undisturbed
access.

In olden days, at the time when the
swallows were expected, a solemn proces-
sion was formed by the whole household
to the gate of the farm; then, at the first
glimpse of the welcome visitors, the barn
door was joyfully thrown open for them.
It was believed that the swallows took a
great interest in domestic affairs, and ex-
amined everything closely on their arrival.
If they found untidiness and mismanage-
ment, they sang:

" Boxes and chests were full when away we went,
Now we are back, they are empty; all is spent."

Various ceremonies must be performed
the first time of beholding a swallow. In
the Neu Mark, the person must wash his
face, to preserve it from sunburn during
the year. In Tyrol, he must stop directly,
and dig with his knife below his left foot;
he will then find a coal in the ground which
will cure ague. When the swallows have
been constant to one nest for seven years,
they leave behind them a small stone of
great healing properties, especially for dis-
eases of the eyes.

Tyrolese peasants of the Unter Valley
say that the wondrous magic root which
opens all doors and fastenings, may be ob-
tained as follows: A swallow's nest is bound
round with strong string, so as effectually
to close the opening. Then the old swal-
low comes with the root, opens the nest,
and lets the root fall. In another part of
Tyrol the same story is told of the wood-
pecker.

The natives of Lippe Detmold have not
quite such a favorable opinion of the swal-
lows as their neighbors. They hold that
no calves can be reared where swallows
build; and in Westphalian villages one
sometimes hears that a cow gives blood
instead of milk, if a swallow chances to fly
under her.

Killing a swallow is a crime which brings
its own punishment; but the penalty varies.
In the Pusterthal, Swabia, and the Lech-
rian, the slayer will have misfortunes with
his cattle, for the cows will give red milk.
At Nauders, in Tyrol, the criminal will
lose his father or mother, and in the neigh-
boring Telfs, "the heavens will open," /. c,
it will lighten. In the Ober Inn Valley,
the murderer's house will be burned down;
and at Sarsans, in the Oetz Valley, the de-
struction or removal of a swallow's nest
will cost the life of the best cow of the
herd. The Westphalians say that the
slaughter of a swallow causes four weeks'
rain; and, if they are driven away, all the
vegetables in the garden will be cut off by
the frost.

Whoever bids farewell to the swallows
at their autumnal departure will be free
from chilblains through the winter.

Swallows also have the gift of prophecy.
In some parts of Westphalia, the peasants
tell you to look under your feet on the ap-
pearance of the first swallow, for if there
should chance to be a hair, it will be of the
same color as that of your future wife. A
flight of swallows over a house in the Un-
ter Inn Valley signifies a death.

The crossbill and the robin are likewise
looked on as lucky birds. Everybody
knows the pretty legends concerning both
birds, and how the one is supposed to have
crossed his bill, and the other reddened his
breast, by endeavoring to pluck out the
nails which fastened our Lord to the Cross.
In Spain a somewhat similar act of piety is
attributed to the nightingale and goldfinch:

" When Christ for us on Golgotha,
Gave us His latest breath,
The nightingale and goldfinch sang
The mournful song of death."

In the Harz Mountains, and in Tyrol,
the crossbill is highly valued, as it is be-
lieved that this bird will take to itself dis-
eases which would otherwise befall the
family. He has possessed this virtue ever

Bird Legends.

261

since his efforts to release Our Lord from
the Cross. The presence of a crossbill
drives away gout and rheumatism, and
even the water which he drinks, or in
which he bathes, is used as a remedy for
these complaints. Moreover, the Tyrolese
crossbill counteracts witchcraft, and pro-
tects a home from evil spells and lightning.

The robin is likewise a protection against
lightning, but woe betide the rash person
who ventures to molest the robin or its
nest. He will either be struck by light-
ning, or, as in the Zillerthal, he will be-
come epileptic, or, in the Ober Inn Thai,
his cattle will all give red milk, and even
the water in his house will assume a ruddy
hue. The despoiler of a robin's nest will
lose as many relations in the course of the
year as the number of young birds stolen.
Absam and Schwaz are the only Tyrolese
exceptions to the universal estimation in
which this bird is held. At Absam it is
said that the nest attracts lightning, and at
Schwaz a robin flying over a house foretells
a death.

The bullfinch also possesses good quali-
ties. At Schwaz the water in which a bull-
finch has bathed is reckoned a cure for
epilepsy, and at Lienz nobody will suffer
from erysipelas in the house where a bull-
finch is kept.

In the valleys of the Unter Inn and the
Lech the siskins are believed to have stones
in their nests which render the owner in-
visible. It can therefore only be discovered
by means of placing a pail of water beneath
the tree where the nest is supposed to be
located, and then the water will reflect it.
According to the Bavarian peasantry the
eggs and nest of the siskin have the same
qualifications as the stone.

The tiny titmice were held in great esti-
mation by our forefathers, and heavy pen-
alties fell on any one who entrapped or
otherwise injured them.

Starlings and other small birds often ap-

pear in legends as messengers of the deities,
and prophesy accordingly. They speak a
language of their own, and discuss the
affairs of mankind; so that whoever under-
stands their tongue hears many wonderful
things. The starlings were especially con-
sidered to be the companions and mes-
sengers of the elves.

Among our chief songsters tradition re-
lates the following superstitions regarding
the lark, the blackbird, and the nightin-
gale. The former is under the peculiar
patronage of the Blessed Virgin. The
lark commences singing at Candlemas, the
Feast of the Purification. In former times
it was considered a crime to kill a lark;
but, on the other hand, if a child eats as
his first meat the flesh of a roast lark, it
will make him virtuous and pious. A ris-
ing lark is a good omen to the peasant as
he enters the meadow and he calls it " the
pious lark," because it never omits to
praise and thank God before and after a
meal. He who points at a lark is sure to
be punished for his want of respect by a
gathering on the offending finger.

The blackbird is sometimes called " Gott-
ling," or "little god." It preserves the
house from lightning, and also possesses
soothsaying powers. If it sings before
March, corn will be dear. Much informa-
tion may be gained from its first spring
carol by those who are learned in such
matters. The Gdod Samaritans who feed
the blackbirds through the winter months
will be rewarded with prosperity in all their
undertakings, and will never suffer from
fever.

The Westphalian chaffinch at Iserlohn

sings:

"Suk, Suk, Siik !
In the two and twentieth year,
In the two and twentieth year,
The Prussian soldiers will be here."

Probably this refers to some ancient pro-
phecy.

THE AUDUBON NOTE BOOK.

AUDUBON SOCIETY.

The registered membership of the Society at the
close of November was 48,518, showing an increase
of ^72 during the month. These were drawn from
the following sources:

New York 220 Maryland 3

New Jersey 24 Illinois 3

Massachusetts 53 South Carolina i

Maine 3

Vermont 2

Connecticut 17

Rhode Island 6

New Hampshire i

Pennsylvania 37

Missouri 77

Texas 4

Indiana i

Ohio I

Germany 2

Switzerland i

West Indies 76

472

C. F. Amery, General Secretary.

DISCONTINUANCE OF THE "AUDUBON
MAGAZINE."

The publication of the Audubon Magazine will
cease with this issue, which completes the second
annual volume. The AuDUBON Magazine was
started in the hope that by spreading a knowledge
of birds and of their economic importance we should
materially further the objects of the Audubon So-
ciety, but while the Society was established on phil-
anthropic grounds and with the clear understanding
that it would involve some cost to its promoters, it
was hoped that the Magazine would have been in
such demand as to render it self-supporting. But
after two years of effort in which we have been
earnestly supported by a great many of the Local
Secretaries of the Society, and notably by Mr. J. L.
Davison, of Lockport, N. Y.; Miss Mary Bartol, of
South Boston, Mass. ; Dr. R. L. Walker, of Mans-
field Valley, Pa., and Miss E. B. Barry, of German-
town, Pa., we have no such subscription list as is
fairly remunerative for the trouble and expense in-
volved in the publication of the magazine; we have
consequently decided to suspend its issue with the
close of the second volume. Our friends will bear
in mind that we have maintained the Audubon move-
ment at our own cost, and we shall gladly take all
necessary measures for its continuance and spread,
until the people are thoroughly aroused on the sub-
ject, but the Mag.\zine, although it has done some
good, is not essential to the progress of the move-
ment, and as its preparation calls for a great deal
more labor than our tusy staff can well devote to it,
we have decided to discontinue it. We believe this
decision will carry a feeling of relief to our many
local secretaries who have exerted themselves to pro-
cure subscriptions, an uncongenial task at the best.

For all good offices in this direction we desire to
express our cordial thanks.

In all other respects the work of the Society will
be conducted as heretofore, and printed supplies
furnished free of cost as at present. The first
and second volumes of the Audubon Magazine,
neatly bound in cloth, are for sale for one dollar each.
The second volume will be ready this month. Sub-
scribers who have kept their copies in good condition,
can send them in and have them bound for fifty cents
a volume. These two volumes include complete bio-
graphies of John James Audubon and Alexander
Wilson, the two great pioneer naturalists of America;
each monthly number has a bird portrait, reproduced
from Audubon's world renowned plates, and the
chapters on descriptive and economic ornitholgy con-
tain an amount of interesting and instructive infor-
mation about birds and their importance in the econ-
omy of nature, such as would be sought in vain in
any other popular work on natural history.

We have received some advance subscriptions,
which will be refunded as soon as we have leisure ta
go over the books.

MEMBERSHIP FOR DECEMBER.

The membership of the Society reached 48,862 at
close of December, 1888, and as the Society was in-
augurated the 14th of February, 1886, we have still
six weeks in which to attain to a membership of
50,000.

THE WOOD PEWEE.

The wood pewee, {Contopus virens) is a common
bird, and is a good representative of its class, the
flycatchers. Its color is grayish-yellow beneath, and
a rather dark olive-green above. The length of the
bird is about six inches. In many ways it is a very
interesting bird, and its soft musical call note makes
it conspicuous among others. The note is very
melancholy, and from it the pewee takes its name,
for it sounds \-C&e. pee-iveee , drawn out in a plaintive
tone, which renders it very pleasing. The nest is a
pretty affair, and is placed in the forks of a limb,
and covered with lichens, so that it looks very much
like the wood and bark and often it is a hard matter
to find it. It is composed of bark, dried grasses,
and small twigs, held together with silk of cocoons,
spiders' webs and fibers of plants. It is lined with
dried grass, thistle down and small bits of bark, the
whole being as nice a cradle as one could wish for.
It resembles the hummingbird's nest, and, with its
complement of three, sometimes four or five eggs, it

The Audubon Note Book.

263

is quite as pretty as the delicate nest of that bird.
The eggs measure .70X.54 inch, and are cream
color, dotted, especially at the larger end, with dark
brown spots, some of which appear to be on and
some under the ^g'g shell. They are very pretty.
The wood pewee is a very pugnacious bird, and I
have seen him drive away numbers of goldfinches,
and he will fight with the robin, though he invari-
ably gets beaten in a combat with the latter.

AUDUBON MONUMENT COMMITTEE.

At a meeting of this committee held on Wednes-
day evening, Dec. 2, at the house of Prof. Thomas
Egleston, chairman of the joint committee, a very
handsome memorial portrait of Audubon was ex-
hibited, and a resolution passed to send out a copy
to all subscribers of a dollar and upward to the

^t5^.=.«^1^

^^^

monument fund. This portrait is from Turnure's
steel engraving of Cruikshank's painting, which is
considered the best portrait of Audubon extant. Its
issue will be confined solely to subscribers to the
monument. Our readers will judge of the portrait
from the reduced cut given.

PENNSYLVANIA BIRD NOTES.

In October there came to the old pear tree before
the door, three or four strange birds. They were
probably travelers pausing for rest and refreshment.
They were larger than a bluebird but not so large as
a robin, but their breasts were just the color of a
robin's breast. Their backs were black or nearly
so. It was toward evening when they came, so we
could not tell exactly the color of their backs. We
used the glass, but they flitted about so we could not
study them as closely as we wished. Their voices
were like a blackbird's. They only uttered one note
that we heard, a harsh chack chack. They flew
away in a few minutes, and although we watched,
hoping to see them again, they did not return.

In the latter part of August we saw a pretty sight.
We were driving through a lonely wood road. As
we ascended a rise of ground, there was a long low
stone pile of a tumble-down rail fence. This fence
was overgrown with bushes, and above all rose the
forest trees. As we were driving slowly, we heard
low sounds on the left, and looking toward the loose
stones under the bushes, saw four full-grown par-
tridges. Such pretty timid creatures! They had
been sitting down, but rose as we looked. They
moved a little very quietly, as if in doubt what to do.
We were very close to them, and stopped the horse
to see them more plainly. We could see the beauti-
ful markings on their wings distinctly. They all
spread their tails in the prettiest way, very much
after the manner of fan-tailed pigeons. After mov-
ing about in this way a little while they all spread
.their wings and flew off among the trees. Whether
they had young and were waiting for them to con-
ceal themselves before securing their own safety, we
could not tell. It may have been the reason.

I well remember the first partridge I ever saw.
When quite a young girl I was walking through
quite a piece of woods alone, when suddenly — from
the solid ground it seemed to me — there sprang a
creature, I hardly knew what. It flew around and
around me, making a curious whirring noise, and it
seemed to me that every feather was in motion. I
stood speechless with astonishment and terror, when
as suddenly the creature took flight and I was left to
pursue my way unmolested. On relating my adven-
ture at home, my father told me it was a mother par-
tridge, who had made this demonstration to attract
my attention while her young concealed them-
selves.

Sabbath morn a week ago, as we rose from the
breakfast table, a great cawing was heard. On go-
ing to the outer door we saw a strange sight. There
were hundreds of crows covering the large fields
below the house. They were walking about rather
quietly the greater part of them ; but on top of a small
tree close to the fence was perched one crow, occas-
ionally flapping his wings. Three or four crows
would arise from those in the fields, fly a short dis-
tance above this one cawing loudly, then return and
others take their place. We watched them for some
time. Whether it was a convention of crows or a
court they were holding we had no means of know-
ing. Finally they rose in a great cloud and settled
in two other fields near the road. Driving past soon
after we saw them plainly. The bright sun shone
on them and some appeared perfectly white and
others a lovely silver gray as they stood in certain
lights, but the most looked like black satin.

Uplands, Pa. LuCY LymaN Peck.

THE ENGLISH PRESS ON FEATHER MILLINERY.

Women and their Victims. — It was
hoped some time ago that the fashion of
wearing the dead bodies as trimmings for
bonnets and hats was going out. Such a
hope, apparently, is doomed to disappoint-
ment. Perhaps the day may come when
people who have a little regard for such
helpless creatures as birds will give them
up to their fate. It really seems of no use
to try to protect them. The loafer from
the East End of London goes forth with his
cages and his lime, and catches them. He,
however, mostly retains the male. The
other bird murderer also goes forth on his
cruel errand, and, by preference, catches^
and retains the female. * * What matters
it to him that his victim is often the mother
of a nest full of helpless young, and that
they are left in the nest to die of starva-
tion; to die while piteously crying out hour
after hour for the mother that never comes ?
The mother birds are killed, and the young
left to die of starvation, because certain
women insist that it shall be so. Yet how
gentle, and sympathetic, and tender those
very women can pretend to be, when it suits
their convenience. How correct and nice
is their taste in everything that relates to
good manners. How shocked they are by
vulgarity; how horrified by coarseness. If
they could see themselves exactly as some
men see them; could have it once driven in
upon their consciences, that, in the estima-
tion of all rational and right-feeling men,
they are incomparably inferior to many
costermongers, crossing-sweepers, and un-
taught African negroes, they might for one
moment pause and reflect upon their worth-
lessness. Is it really, then, come to this :
That a nineteenth century woman is so
utterly selfish, so hopelessly without brains
or feeling, and so incapable of learning
even the very elements of humanity, that
she must and will have birds to adorn her-
self with at whatever cost? At bottom it
really is want of intellect. The idle modern
woman is so self-indulgent, pampered and
spoilt, that she can no longer be counted
upon to exercise a reasoning faculty. Im-
pulses, whims and poutings alternate with
fits of sulkiness or rage; and so she spends
her life. The movement in favor of the
emancipation of women, it may be hoped.

will not only give enlargement, but a sense
of responsibility and duty. No man can
contemplate without the deepest anxiety
the gradually increasing mental weakness
among the prosperous. If the stern necessi-
ties of the poorer class of ladies develop in
them true strength of mind and sternness
of moral fibre,mostpeople will think poverty
and necessity blessings, though in disguise.
Hardly any price is too great to pay for
brains and a moral faculty. — The Hospital.

Ribbons and flowers are nearly the only
trimming on hats and bonnets, according
to our latest fashion books. It is pleasing
to notice that few — in fact, scarcely any —
birds are shown in them. Those ladies who
keep up to fashion will therefore not have
to wear birds and wings. In the hats and
bonnets given in the following publications
there is scarcely a bird to be seen : The
Queen, Woman s World, Sylvia's Journal,
Girls' Own Paper, Myra's Journal, Mrs.
Weldons Journal. — Ne^vcastle Chronicle.

It is only fair to ladies to state that ac-
cording to an observation at the West End,
the wearing of bird skins is this winter al-
most entirely confined to shop girls and to
servant maids, and from the tattered ap-
pearance of the skins it is obvious that they
are only the "remnants" of the milliners'
old stock, or the cast-off finery of mis-
tresses. This spread of the fashion to the
lower grades of society ought to surprise
no one, and we have already anticipated its
occurrence. Ladies should destroy their
bird skins and not give them to their ser-
vants, or allow them to be sold to old
clothes' collectors, who, of course, immed-
iately put them in the market again — not,
however, until they may have passed through
an East End fever den, or become infested
with parasites. The pity of it is that ladies
introduced the fashion and we hope they
are now beginning to see the cruelty and
bad taste they have themselves been guilty
of, and have caused in others, and feel
thoroughly ashamed of themselves for
allowing mere fashion to overcome their
strongest instinct, which is for the preserva-
tion of life in every form. — Selbourne Maga-
zitte.

February, 1888.

'%lwjhQ}r

NE

^

yvlli^\^h LT\t}\e J'l^tere^t^ ol l\e^

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

PROTECTION or BIRDS

Forest and^tkeam TiyRu^fiiWc; Company ,

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, i8S8, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR FEBRUARY, 1888.

A Green Woodpecker (Another of the early drawings of Audubon) Frontispiece.

Audubonian Sketches.— II. By R. w. Shufeldt 3

Hints to Audubon Workers.— IX. By Florence A. Men-iam 6

Slate-Colored Junco; Snowbird 6

Bluejay 8

Crossbills 11

Charley's Wonderful Journeys.— VI. By C F. Amejy 12

The English Sparrow Discussed 15

Portrait of General F. E. Spinner 17

A Family on My Hands. By Violet S. Williams 18

The Audubon Note Book:

Membership Returns 20

Ornithologists vs. Collectors 20

A Story of the Imagination 21

A Young Ornithologist 21

Eminent People on Bird Protection 22

Useful and Entertaining Books,

THE FOLLOWING IVQh'KS QM NATURAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMENDED 70
THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A NaturaHst's Rambles About Home, Abbott. $i 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win- •

Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow, Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammals of New York, paper $4 ; cloth 5 00

gravingof the great naturalist after I nman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting) ; octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds '..... 3 00

Bird Notes, from Ernest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, IngersoU i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 PracticalTaxidermyiS: Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus.. Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect W^orld, Figuier i 5° setts; Summer; each vol i 50

^^"Send for our free catalogue of books, mentioning ivltere yon saw this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

40 Park Ro^^^, Ncaa^ York City.

March, 1888.

lj/\UlDUB0Jvr

NE

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

/or* ittte

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Forest aaTd Stream Ti/RLi^iiiN'Gi to\\?k\is .

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, 1888, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR MARCH, 1888.

Rusty Crackle ( Scokcophagus carolimis Mull) ). (After Audubon's Plate) Frontispiece.

The Rusty Crackle 25

Spencer F. Baird (With Portrait) 27

Houses to Let. (illustrated.) By C. F. Amery , 3i

Hints to Audubon Workers.— X. By Florence A. Mcn-iam 34

Snow Bunting; Snowflake 34

Hairy Woodpecker 35

Downy Woodpecker 37

White-Bellied Nuthatch; Devil Downhead 39

The Cnatcatcher's Strategy. By w. s. Biatchiey 40

The Audubon Note Book:

Membership Returns 42

The Dog and the Umbrella 42

An Accomplished Bluejay 42

Clouds of Birds 42

Then and Now 43

A Curious Floating Island 43

Eminent People on Bird Protection 44

Useful and Entertaining Books.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS ON NATURAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMFNDED 7 0

THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott. $i 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 400

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow. Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammals of New York, paper $4 ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard 125

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, IngersoU 125 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 Practical Taxidermy & Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 5° Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 5° Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus., Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Rooseveh 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol i 50

Send for our free catalogue of books, mentioning where you saw this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

40 Park Row, New York City.

i^^DU R Q}r

NE

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

/or' Itte

PROTECTION OFBiRDS

Forest aj^d Stream Tiyi^Li^HJN'Gi C!o^^PA^/y .

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts. Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, l8S8, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR APRIL, 1888.

The Mockingbird ( Mi/ims polyglottos (Linn.) ). (After Audubon's Plate) Frontispiece.

The Mockingbird 47

Hints to Audubon Workers.— (Ai-pkndix.) By Florence A. Merriam 49

Charley's Wonderful Journeys.— VII. (illustrated.) By c. F. Amery 53

The Audubon Monument, (illustrated.) 56

Two Little Captives, (illustrated.) By Fthcldred B. Barry 58

Helpless Pets. By Helen r. Austin 60

By Albatross Mail 61

Bird Myths.— I. Corvus, the Crow. By Emily Timelier Bennett 62

The Audubon Note Book:

Membership Returns 64

Saving the Tree 64

A Crossbill in Mid-Ocean , 64

The Sparrow Correspondence , 64

Preservation of the Yellowstone Park 65

Eminent People on Bird Protection 66

Useful and Entertaining BoolvS.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS ON NATURAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMENDED TO
THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott. %\ 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow, Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammals of New York, paper $^ ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's IManual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley. i 50

Birds Nesting, Ingersoll , . i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 Practical Taxidermy & Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus., Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol i 50

Send for our free eataloi^nie of f'ooks, tnentioning- wliere you saw this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO,

40 Park Row, New York City.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
■^""^ canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the AUDUBON Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is

trying for a prize.

Subscriptions).

T^ I S T I . (for lO

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pike, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Ca'ge and Singing Birds.

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Manaeement, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

XjIST II. (for 30 ^labscriptions)

The Dog in Health, TTabits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of Americ:.n History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illuGtrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon Magazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 SulDscriptions).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Eoone and the Hunters of

Kentucky.
Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer Mothers in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes.
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thome.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,
Keene.

Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,
Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, ,ii:u5.,C. B.Reynolds
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST lA^. (for 40 Siabscriptions)

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.

Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.
Smith.

Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Quaitrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports
and Games.

Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

1 hompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for Voung

Sportsmen.

LIST "V. (for 50 Sui"bs crip lions).

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.
Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment iii Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Neison.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

McCook, illustrated.
History of the Mastiff, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 40 Park Roav, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study,

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

full of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
birds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and roughly told
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles of its own.

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY? Read the Forest and Stream,

For OUT-DOOR LIFE ? Read the Forest and Stream.

For CAMPING? Read the Fo7^6st and Stream.

For ANGLING? Read the Forest and Streajn.

For SHOOTING? Read the Forest and Stream.

For YACHTING ? Read the Forest and Stream.

For CANOEING ? Read the Forest and Stream.

TERMS: $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents.
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kinds of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
885 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHSoosE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

By C. BowYER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Email Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. KuNH^RDT.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole r nge of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result 6{ his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^°Send for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. ByANTO.
NIN Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every iarmer ought to have it, for _th«
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im^
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor of Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Streain.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severitj'. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana 15erners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint olJ book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods th t he has been fifty y?ars i.. i squir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can read
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 40 Park Row, New York,

C. L. SCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

"TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the Audubon Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediatel)', or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is
trying for a prize.

LIST I. (for lO Subscr.ptioTis).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pike, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of American History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Giri.

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Coat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

LIST II. (for 30

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon Magazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 SulDscriptions).

SSixfescriptions).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Boone and the Hunters ot

Kentucky.
Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer Mothers in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes.
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Oar Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thome.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,
Keene.

Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,
Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, illus., C. B. Reynolds
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST I^. (for 4tO Svibscriptions).

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.

Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.
Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

f

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Games.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for Young

Sportsmen.

LIST "V. (for GO Su.bscriptions).

A. O. U. Check List of North American Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille. Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Birds. Boat Building and Sailing, Neison. Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Coues' Check List of North American Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck. Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

, ^'''^t"^ ■ T,- . ,,• Cassell's Boole of Sports and Pastimes. McCook, illustrated.

Land and Game Birds, Minot. ^^.^.^^^ Recollections, Whyte Melville. History of the Mastiff, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 40 Park Row, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

full of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
birds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive pnpers, and roughly told
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles of its own.

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY? Read the Forest and Stream,

For OUT-DOOR LIFE? Read the Forest and Stream.

For CAMPING? Read the Forest and Stream.

For ANGLING? Read the Forest and Stream.

For SHOOTING? Read the Forest and Stream.

For YACHTING ? Read the Forest and Stream.

For CANOEING ? Read the Forest and Stream.

TERMS : $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents.
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kind.s of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $10; cloth, on cheaper paper, $5.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under .
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHsoosE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

By_C. BowYER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole range of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^Send for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto-
nin Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor of Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana Berners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods th.Tt he has been fifty years iu i.:quir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can read
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 40 Park Row, New York,

C. L. SCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

T~\URING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
^"^ canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the Audubon Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the AuDUBON. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is

trying for a prize.

LIST I. (for lO Subsoriptions).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trollinsr for Pikp, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Manaeement, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease
Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of American History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray.

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

LIST II. (for 20

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon Magazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps In the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 Subscriptions).

Subscript ions).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Boone and the Hunters o(
Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.

Pioneer Mothers in the West.

Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes.
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.

Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.

Young America's Picture Rook.

Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.

Our Boy=, Olive Thorne.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,
Keene.

Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,
Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, illus., C. B. Reynolds.
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST I^. (for 40 Subscriptions).

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.

Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast.
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Games.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for Voung

Sportsmen.

LIST "V". (for 50 Subscriptions)

Cruises In Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.
Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Nelson.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

McCook, Illustrated.
History of the Mastiff, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 40 Park Row, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

full of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
birds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY? Read the Forest and

For OUT-DOOR LIFE? Read

For CAMPING? Read

For ANGLING? Read

For SHOOTING? Read

For YACHTING ? Read

For CANOEING? Read

roughly told
of its own.

Stream.
Strca7n.
Stream.
Stream.
Stream.
Stream,.
Stream.

TERMS: $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents.
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

the
the
the
the
the
the

Fore'it
Forest
Forest
Forest
Forest and
Forest and

and
and
and
and

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kind.s of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated';
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, |i£;
cloth, $10; cloth, on cheaper paper, $5.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHSOOSE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. 10 cts.

TFie Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

ByC. BowYER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole range of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^Scnd for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Antc
NiN Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for th«
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-.
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor oi Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana Eerners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods thiit he has been fifty years i.i «= ;quir-
ing. No rnan, however much he has camped out, can read
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 40 Park Row, New York,

C. L. SCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

^iwrnjr

NE

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

PROTECTION OFBiRDS

Forest aaTd Stream 'VuRU^Hitic^ Comfan/v .

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, 1888, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR MAY, 1888.

The Night Heron {Aycticoj-ax tiycticoi-ax iicEvius (Bodd.)). (After Audubon's Plate) Frontispiece.

The Night Heron 6g

Birds at the Bath. By Uncle Tony 71

Henry Bergh 72

City Birds. By Ilan-iette H. Boardman 75

How I Learned to Love and Not to Kill. By w. M. cimu-jenet 79

Bird Histories. — The Cuckoo. By Emily Thacher Bennett 82

A Plea for Our Birds. By R. F. Baxter. 83

Some Characteristic Birds 85

The Audutjon Note Book:

Membership Returns 86

The Audubon Monument 86

For the Protection of Small Birds 86

Nests 86

Audubon Work Among the Indians 87

Mr. De Young's Seagulls 87

Useful and Entertaining BoolvS.

THE FOLLOW TNG WORKS ON NATURAL HI STORY ARE RECOMMENDED TO
THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott. %\ 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow. Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Alammals of New York, paper |.:| ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting) ; octavo. 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, Ingersoll i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 400 Practical Taxidermy & Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus.. Brown 50

GameWaterBirdsof Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol i 50

Send for our free catalogue of books, mentioning lohere you saw this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

'y^wjhojr

NE

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Forest A/vrD^TR.EAMTl/BLI^fiJN'Gi C!0MPAN/y.

^ne:wyok)^. ^

\nnual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, 1688, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office a^ •'••jcDno C.ass Vxaii >.iavt6»

CONTENTS FOR JUNE, 1888.

Black and White MslarhXer {MniotUta vmia ilAnn.)). (After Audubon's Plate). Frontispif.CS,

Black and White Warbler gt

Alexander Wilson.— I.

93

Remarkable Birds. By George B. Griffith 95

The White Ant. (illustrated.) By C. F. Avu-yy g6

Charley's Wonderful Journeys.— VIII. (illustrated.) By c. f. Amery loo

Bluebird Dick 102

Bird Histories. The " Bird of Jove." By Emily llmcher Bennelt 105

Unusual Nesting Sites io6

Birds in Disguise 107

The Audubon Note Bocic :

Membership Returns 108

Warren's Ledger 108

Crow and Anti-Crow 108

No More Birds in Bonnets 108

Among the Birds in Texas : 109

Seals, Sea Lions, Sea Gulls 109

The Mockingbird and the Srarrow 109

Useful and Entertaining Books.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS OiV NATURAL fJI STORY ARE RECOMMENDED TO

THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott. |i 50 Insetts Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton. 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow. Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- • Mammals of New York, paper %\ ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting) ; octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Siream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, Ingersoll i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 Practical Taxidermy & Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus.. Brown 50

GameWaterBirdsof Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol , i 50

Send foy our free catalogue of hooks, mentioning wJicre yoii saTc this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

5^DiiEGjr

Nf

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

/or* l7te

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, i8S8, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR JULY, 1888.

The Crow ( Corvus a^ucricanus (And.) ). (After Audubon's Plate). Frontispifxe.

The Crow. "3

Alexander Wilson.— 11 "6

Birds of the Primeval World.— I. (illustrated) nS

The Audubon Knights. (Illustrated.) By Etlu'ldn-d Brcczf Barry 121

Gold Beauty. By HcnrlcUa Christian Wright _ ... 125

The Audubon Note Book :

MF:MiiERSHiP Returns 126

■ Birds on the Increase 126

The Poet's Appeal 126

The ' ' Magazine " as an Enuc.A.TOR 126

The Audubon Monument 127

Useful and Entertaining Boolcs.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS ON' NA TUBAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMENDED TO

THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles x\bout Home, Abbott. %\ 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine;' Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow. Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each. vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammals of New York, paper f 4 ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after I nman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, IngersoU i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 PracticalTaxidermycS: Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus.. Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Ilolden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol \ 50

Send for onr free catalogue of hooks, mentioning ivhcre you sa7ii this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance- from young members in
^"^ canvassing for Subscribers for the Audubon Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the AuDUBON Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is

trying for a prize.

LIST I. (for lO SixlDscriptioTis).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pikp, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fj'sshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray,

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

LIST II. (for SO Subscriptions).

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. L of the Audubon Magazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 Subscriptions)

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of American History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Boone and the Hunters of

Kentucky.
Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer Mothers in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes,

Mrs. R. Lee.
Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thorne.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,
Keene.

Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Bulldog for Amateurs,
Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, illus., C. B. Reynolds
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST IV. (for 40 Subscriptions).

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.

Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Anniial for 1888.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast.
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports
and Games.

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.

Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for Young

Sportsmen.

LIST "V^. (for GO Subscriptions).

A. O. U. Check List of North American Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille. Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

""''^s. Boat Building and Sailing, Neison. Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Coues' Check List of North American Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck. Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

T . . r- r, . ,.• Cassell's Book ofSports and Pastimes. McCook, illustrated

Land and Game Birds, Mmot. _,.,. ._, „ . ,,„ ,^ , .,, Historv nf the Mastiff Wvrn

' Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville. niscory oi tne iviasrin, vvynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 318 Broadway, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

xill of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
ijirds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles

roughly told
of its own.

DO YOU HAPPEN TO

For NATURAL HISTORY?

For OUT-DOOR LIFE?

For CAMPING?

For ANGLING?

For SHOOTING?

For YACHTING?

For CANOEING?

Stream.
Stream.
Stream.
Stream.
Strea7n.
Stream.
Strea^n,

TERMS: $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 csnts
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

HAVE A TASTE

Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost ail kind.s of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, vi'here to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AvifAHsooSE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price |i.oo.

Canoe Handling.

ByC. BowvER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole r. nge of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, Ulustraled
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in ournorthernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^°Send for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto-
NiN Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor of Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working. drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Julian.'V I'ekners. An elegast reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods th.it he has been fifty years i., t :quir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can re^H
this book without learning something. Price $i.oo.

books.

Address Forest and Stre.\m Publishing Co., 318 Broadway, New York.

C. L. LCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

"TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof- that their
etforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the AuDUBON Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is
trying for a prize.

LIST I. (for lO SubsoriptioTis).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pikp, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs._ Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of American History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

Diseases.

II. (for 30 STilascriptions).

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray,

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

LIST

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon M \gazi.ne.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Co. v.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 Su.T)Scriptiorxs).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Eoone and the Hunters of
Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer Mothers in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.
Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes,
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thorne.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,

Keene.
Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Builds ig for Amateurs,

Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, illus., C. B. Reynolds.
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST I^. (for- 40 Subscriptions)

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.

Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Games.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for S'oung

Sportsmen.

LIST "V^. (for GO Subscriptions).

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.
Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Neison.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

McCook, illustrated.
History of the Ma^tiflf, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 318 Broadway, New ^ork.

For all who take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

,ull of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
t)irds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

roughly told
of its own.

For NATURAL HISTORY?

For OUT-DOOR LIFE?

For CAMPING?

For ANGLING?

For SHOOTING?

For YACHTING?

For CANOEING?

Stream.
Stream.
Stream,
Stream.
Stream
Stream,

TERMS: $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents
Mention this magazine. Adciress

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kind.s of American
game are treated in its pages, and it i^ profusely illustrated;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "Aw.^HsooSE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

~) By _C. BowYER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole mnge of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The te.xt occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^g^Send for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Antq.
NIN Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every larmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor o{ Fo7-est and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventvire
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severit;-. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price f i.oo.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana IIeknurs. An elegant reprint of a
quaint olJ book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods that he has been fifty years i.. ;';quir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can xe^A
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Pudlishing Co., 318 Broadway, New York.

C. L. ICHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— 'FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members ii\
canvassing for subscribers for the AuDUBON Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the Audubon Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I;, together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is
trying for a prize.

LIST I. (for lO Siibsoriptions).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pikf, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

Common Objects cf the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Manaffement, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Brsakinc', Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of American History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Coat Sa'ling.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray.

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

3L, I S T II, (for SO

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. L of the Audubon M gazi.ne.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Co*.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adiroiidaoks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 Scibscriptions).

SuTdsc rip t ions).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Poone and the Hunters of
Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.

Pioneer Mothers in the West.

Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes,

Mrs. R. Lee.
Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's P cture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thorne.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,
Keene.

Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,
Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, illus., C. R. Reynolds
Our New Alaska, i.lus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST I^r. (for 40 Sixbscriptions).

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright
Wonders of the Yellowstone.

Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Gaines.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thomj/son.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Mai ual for V'oung

Sportsmen.

LIST ~Vo (for 50 Subsoriplions).

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.
Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Neison.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

McCook, illustrated.
History of the Mastiff, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 318 Broadway, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

full of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
birds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and roughly told
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles of its own.

DO YOU HAPPEN TO

For NATURAL HISTORY?

For OUT-DOOR LIFE?

For CAMPING?

For ANGLING?

For SHOOTING?

For YACHTING?

For CANOEING?

HAVE A TASTE

Read the Forest and Stream.
Read the Forest and Stream.
Read the Forest and Strea7n.
Read the Forest ajid Stream.
Read the Forest and Stream,
Read the Forest and Stream.
Read the Forest and Stream,

TERMS: $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents.
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all liind.s of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and Under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AWAHSOOSE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point, locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

By C. BowYER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole range of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result oj his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

'^g'Send for free catalogue of Forest and Streatn

The Forest Waters the Farm;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto>
NIN Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor of forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchmian.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Streatn.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana Berners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods that he has been fifty years i.i i' :quir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can read
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 318 Broadway, New York.

C. L. SCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

August, 1888.

i^^Dimor

NE

•^.

^

J ulU)}\e^ b\i\tjSr\lere.<t^ of l\^

jAUDUBON SOCIETY

fovlfte

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Forest akd Stream T^URLi^fijr/Gi to\\?kMs .

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, ]888, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR AUGUST, 1888.

The Pileated Woodpecker (Cco/'hhrris pih-atus ( Linn.) ). (After Audubon's Plate). Fronti.SI'IECK.

The Pileated Woodpecker 135

Alexander Wilson.— II 137

Interesting Birds. By G. B. G i3<)

Birds of the Primeval World.— I !. (illustrated) 140

Charley's Wonderful Journeys.— IX. (Illustrated.) By C. F. Amcry 142

Wrens in a Coffee Pot 14S

A Trip to the Yosemite Valley. By ll. s. M 150

Birds in Disguise 151

A Visit to Audubon's Home 151

The Audubon Noto Book:

Membership Returns 15c

Robin Lothario 152

.SONO OF THE WHIPI'OORWII.I 132

A True Incident 153

Swallows at Sea 153

Useful and Entertaining Books.

TlfE FOLLOIVING WORKS ON NATURAL IflSTORY ARE RECOMMENDED 7 0

THOSE IVTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott. $1 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of K. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and I^oets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled b}- his widow, Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with stcci plate en- Mammals of New York, paper $4 ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard r 25

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds '. . 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Strcaiii 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, IngersoU. .' i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 Practical Taxidermy & Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds. 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore. . ■.• 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of Nortln American P-irds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus., Brown 50

GameWater Birds of Atlantic Coast, liooscvcl I 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Ilolden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol i 50

'Snid for our free rataloi^itc cf hooks, 7iieu/ioniiii^ -.vlicrc yon sa'tO litis.

/.dd.ess FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

September, 1888.

Sfl(Ut)UBGr

NF

/UDUBON SOCIETY

/or" Ifte

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Forest aaTd Stream ^\}^u%k\\\i(\ iov^kMs.

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, j888, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR SEPTEMBER, 1888.

The Towhee Bunting {Pipilo eiythrophtlialmus (Linn.)). (After Audubon's Plate). FRONTi.sPlECfi.

The Towhee Bunting 157

Alexander Wilson.— Ill 159

Bird Legends 161

Queen Honey Dew. By Henrietta Chris:'.a:i JVi\^'h: 163

Singular Birds. By a. B. G 168

Arkansas Bird Notes 169

Shore Birds A . . .171

The Audubon Note Book:

Membership Returns 174

Bird Language 174

Clever Birds 174

Predatory Birds , 175

Useful and Entertaining Books.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS ON NATURAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMENDED 70

THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott. $1 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow, Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammals of New York, paper $4; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds. 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, IngersoU i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 400 Practical Taxidermy & Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 oo Taxidermists' Manual, illus.. Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol i 50

Send for our free catalogue of hooks, mentioning where you saw this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

October, 1888.

'j^wjhQjr

NE

^

J ulU^}\eo [Y\i}\tjSi\lere.<t^ ol l}\

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

ne:\vycr,ku.

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, H Cts.

Copyright, j888, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter

CONTENTS FOR OCTOBER, 1888.

Fork-Tailed Flycatcher {Mih'ulus fyranuus (Linn.) ). (.Kfter .'Xudubon's Plate). . Frontispif.ce.

The Fork-Tailed Flycatcher lyc)

Alexander Wilson.— V iSi

Charleys Wonderful Journeys.— X. (tiiustrated.) By c. f. Amery 184

Man's Dependence on the Lower Animals, (illustrated.) 190

The Song Sparrow iq3

Bird Legends 196

The Audubon Note Book:

Membership Returns 197

Notes from Pennsylvania 197

A Duck in a Chimney 197

Useful and Entertaining Books.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS ON NATURAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMENDED 7 0
THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott, .f r 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i on

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow. Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammals of New York, paper $4 ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild A,nimals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, Ingersoll 125 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 Practical Taxidermy & Home Decoration, Battv i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds i ^

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus., Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol 1 i;<i

Seitd for our free catalogue of hooks, mentioning 7('here you saiv this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Macazixr, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the Audubon Magazink for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List IL, or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is
trying for a prize.

LIST I. (for lO Siabsor ptions).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-rFishing, Pennell,

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pikp, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

L I i

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Lina in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling. .

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sa.ling.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, JVIurray.

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

LIS

for Trout,

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins,
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Boiany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of American History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

^T II. (for 30

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon M iGazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

T III. (for 30 Suloscriptions)

i3ix'b:?cription.s).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the

Regiment.
Life of Daniel Boone and the Hunters of

Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer IMothers in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles an 1 Fishes,
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American Historj', Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boy , Olive Thorne.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making

Keene.
Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,

Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, ii:u3., C. B. Reynolds
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST lA^. (for 40 Subscriptions).

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.

Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

C. L.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water liirds of the Atlantic Coast.
Manual of Vertebrates, Jord.an.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Games.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for V'oung
■ Sportsmen.

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.

Dogs, Their Management and Tre.at-

ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

LIST "V. (for GO Svibscriptions).

A. O. \J. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
I-and and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Neison.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

McCook, illustrated.
History of the Mastiff, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, ,v8 Broadway, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

xiU of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
jirds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and
experiences of baclcwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY? Read

For OUT-DOOR LIFE? Read

For CAMPING? Read

For ANGLING? Read

For SHOOTING? Read

Fo"r YACHTING ? Read

For CANOEING? Read

the Forest and
the Forest and
the Forest and
the Forest and
the Forest and
the Forest and
the Forest and

roughly told
of its own.

Stream.
Stream.
Stream.
Stream.
Stream.,
Stream.
Stream,

TERMS : $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kim'.s of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three stj'les are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHSoosE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handlingr.

By C. BowvER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole r;inge of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr: Hallock gives the result of his travels in ournorthernmost

possessions. Price $1.50.

'^g^Seiid for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto-
NiN Rousset; translated by^Ev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, pap^r, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor oi Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent aiiimals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price |i.oo.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana Berners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods th t he has been fifty years i.i t cquir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can res'!
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 318 Broadway, New York.

C. L. SCHEMBF.R. 96 NASSAU ST.. NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM'' PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

T~\URING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the Audubon Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of, the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is

trying for a prize.

XilST I. (for lO Subscriptions).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pilcp, Salmon and Trout,

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds;

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of Americ2.n History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

LIST II. (for SO giabscriptions).

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray.

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon Magazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow,
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 Subscriptions)

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Boone and the Hunters of
Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.

Pioneer Mothers in the West.

Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes,
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thorne.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,

Keene.
Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,

Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.

Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.

Four Months in a Sneakbox.

Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.

Camping and Cruising in Florida.

Old St. Augustine, illus., C. B. Reynolds.

Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.

Southern California, Van Dyke.

Famous Horses of America.

Rod and Gun in California.

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.
Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

LIST IV. (for 40 Subscriptions).

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Games.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for Young

Sportsmen.

LIST "V. (for 50 Subsci-iptions)

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.
Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Neison.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

McCook, illustrated.
History of the Mastiflf, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 318 Broadway, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

jull of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
oirds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and roughly told
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles of its own.

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY? Read

For OUT-DOOR LIFE? Read

For CAMPING? Read

For ANGLING ? Read

For SHOOTING? Read

For YACHTING ? Read

For CANOEING? Read

the Forest
the Forest
the Forest
the Forest
the Forest
the Forest
the Forest

and Stream,
and Stream,
and Stream,
and Stream,
and Stream,
and Stream,
and Stream.

TERMS: I4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cent^
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kinds of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHsoosE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. 10 cts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

ByC. BowvER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole range of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^Send for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto«
NIN Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for tha
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor of Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Strea?n.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price f i.oo.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana Berners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods that he has been fifty years i.: acquir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can rp»d
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 318 Broadway, New York.

C. L. SCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

"TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
^^^ canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause..of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the Audubon Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is
trying for a prize.

LIST I. (for lO Subscriptions).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pike, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

barton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song llirds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Fraz^r's Practical Boat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray.

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

The Dog in Health, TTabits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of Americrn History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.
Diseases.

II. (for 30 fSubscriplions).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-

T_i I ST

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illu[;trated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon Magazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 SialDscriptions)

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Eoone and the Hunters o(
Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer Motheis in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes,
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thorne.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,
Keene.

Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect V/orld, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,
Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, ihus., C. B. Reynolds
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
LIST I"V. (for 40 Siabsoriptions)

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.
Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1S88.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Games.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for Voung

Sportsmen.

LIST "V. (for GO Siabscripl ions).

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.
Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Neison.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

McCook, illustrated.
History of the Mastiff, Wynn.

Address AUDUBOxN MAGAZINE, 318 Broadway, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study,

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

.iill of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
^irds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and roughly told
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles of its own.

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY?

For OUT-DOOR LIFE?

For CAMPING?

For ANGLING?

For SHOOTING?

For YACHTING?

For CANOEING?

Read the Forest

Read the Forest

Read the Forest

Read the Forest

Read the Forest

Read the Forest

Read the Forest

and Stream,
and Strea7n.
and Stream,
and Stream,
and Stream,
and Stream.,
and Stream,

TERMS: $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kinds of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHSoosE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

By C. BowYER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kitohardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole range of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^"Send for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto-
NiN Rousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor of Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.30.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana Berners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint olJ book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $i.oo.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods th t he has been fifty years i- acquir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can repH
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 318 Broadway, Nev./ York.

C. L. S.CHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

Vol. II.

November, 1888.

No. 10.

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, 1888, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New Yoik Post Cfficc as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR NOVEMBER, 1888.

The Kingbird ( Tyrannus tyrannus (Linn.) ). (After Audubon's Plate) Frontispiece.

The Kingbird 201

Alexander Wilson.— Vl = 204

Reintroduction of Feather Millinery 207

The Stork. (Illustrated. ) By J. J. Spreiigcr 209

Sketches of Montana. By " Vo." 214

The Audubon Note Book:

Membership Returns 218

An Intelligent Crow 218

A Wayward Pet Robin 21S

Bird Strategy 218

Albino Bobolink 219

The Loon in Captivity 219

Eminent People on Bird Protection 220

Useful and Entertaining BoolvS.

r//E FOLLOWING WORKS ON NATURAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMENDED 70
THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott, fi 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled b)' his widow. Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Alammals of New York, paper $4 ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Piirds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, Ingersoll i 25 Naturalists' Guide, Maynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 400 PracticalTaxidermy(S: Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Piirds and their Haunts. 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus., Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier I 50 setts; Summer; each vol i 50

Send for our free catalogue of books, mentioning iv he re you saw this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

December, 1888.

3^ DU B ojr

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Forest akd Stream TuRUgHiWci CohpaUv.

Annual Subscription, 50 Cts.

Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright, j888, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Entered at New Yoik Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR DECEMBER, 1888.

The Tufted Titmouse (Panis /'/r^'/c;- (Llnn.i ). (After Audubon's Plate) Fro.ntispiece.

The Tufted Titmouse 223

Alexander Wilson.— VII 225

The Wounded Redstart. By Emma Thomton 228

Charley's Wonderful Journeys.— XI. (illustrated.) By C. F. Amery 232

Report of Dr. IVIerriam 237

The Birds of Prinkipo Island 238

Bird Legends 239

The Audubon Note Book :

Audubon Society 240

Audubon Monument '. 240

" Charley's Wonderful Journeys "....• 240

"Bird Portraits " 240

To the Young Members of the Audubon Society . . .240

Useful and Entertaining Books.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS ON' NATURAL HISTORY ARE I^ ECO M MENDED TO
THOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott, fi 50 Insects Injurious to Vegetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow, Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammab of New York, paper $4 ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard t 25

painting) ; octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Game Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Streavi 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, IngersoU i 25 Naturalists' Goide, Maynard. . . 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 Practical Ta.xidermy & Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts ■ 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy W^ithout a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus., Brown 50

Game Water Birds of Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; The

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol. . . i 50

Send for our free catalogue of hooks, mentioning where you saw t/iis.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

January, 1889.

':9^l)UBGjr

NE

^

yyj^i^tb iT\t}\e^i^tere^t5 a\ \\\^

y\UDUBON SOCIETY

tor* l^he

PROTECTION OFBIRDS

Ne:W^ YORj'v,.
Annual Subscription, 50 Cts. Single Copy, 6 Cts.

Copyright 1889, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. Filtered nt New ^'oll< Post Cffice as Second Class Mail Matter.

CONTENTS FOR JANUARY, i889.

Hermit Thrush [Tia-dus aonalasckk.r pallasHiCah.) ). (After Audubon's Date) FRONTisriF.CE.

Hermit Thrush 245

Alexander Wilson.— VIIL : 247

Winter Birds in Vicinity of Dunstable, Mass. Jiv C. Jr. SrmHoTo ...249

The Grave of Alexander Wilson. By Hdoi r. Austin 257

Eva's Equestrianism. By Mary s. Sknlis 252

Charley's Wonderful Journeys.— XII. (Ii!u.strated.) By C. F. Amery 254

Bird Migration in the Mississippi Valley 257

Bird Legends 259

The English Press on Feather Millinery 264

The Audubon Note Book:

Membershii' Returns 262

Discontinuance of the " Audubon Macazine." 2G2

Audubon Monument Committee 262

Membership Returns for December 263

Bird Notes from Pennsylvania ' 263

The Wood Pewee 263

Useful and Entertcaining Books.

THE FOLLOWING WORKS OAr NATURAL HISTORY ARE RECOMMENDED TO
TfTOSE INTERESTED IN THE STUDY OF THIS SUBJECT.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home, Abbott. $i 50 Insects Injurious to ^'egetation, Harris 4 00

A. O. U. Check List of N. A. Birds 3 00 Intelligence of Animals, 54 illus., Menaut. . . i 00

American Bird Fancier 50 John Burroughs' Works: Wake Robin; Win-
Antelope and Deer of America, Caton 2 50 ter Sunshine; Birds and Poets; Locusts and

Audubon's Journals: Compiled by his widow, Wild Honey; Signs and Seasons; each vol. i 50

edited by J. G. Wilson (with steel plate en- Mammals of New York, paper $4 ; cloth 5 00

graving of the great naturalist after Inman's Manual of Taxidermy, Maynard i 25

painting); octavo 2 00 Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan 2 50

Baird's Birds of North America 30 00 Minot's Land and Crame Birds 3 00

Bird Notes, from Forest and Stream 75 Native Song Birds 75

Birds and Wild Animals Wilson i 75 Naturalist's Assistant, Kingsley i 50

Birds Nesting, Ingersoll , i 25 Naturalists' Guide, TNIaynard 2 00

Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania 4 00 PracticalTaxidermy& Home Decoration, Batty i 50

Birds and their Haunts 3 00 Shore Birds 15

Cage and Singing Birds, Adams 50 Taxidermy Without a Teacher, Manton. ... 50

Common Objects of the Seashore 50 Taxidermists' Manual, Brown i 00

Coues' Check List of North American Birds. . 3 00 Taxidermists' Manual, illus.. Brown 50

GameWaterBirdsof Atlantic Coast, Roosevelt 2 00 Thoreau's Works: Excursions in Field and

Guide to the Study of Insects, Packard 5 00 Forest; Walden, or Life in the Woods; Tte

Holden's Book of Birds, paper 25 Maine Woods; Early Spring in Massachu-

Insect World, Figuier i 50 setts; Summer; each vol , . . , . •< 50

Send for our free catalogue of books, Mentioning- -w/iere you sa7C' this.

Address FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,

318 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY.

Eminent people on bird protection,

Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass., |
2nd mo., 20, 1886. \
Editor Forest and Stream:

I heartily approve of the proposed AuDUBON So-
ciety. We are in a way to destroy both our forests
and our birds. A society for the preservation of the
latter has long been needed, and I hope it is not too
late for the accomplishment of its objects.

I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds,
the taxidermists who prepare their skins, and the fash-
ionable wearers of their feathers might share the
penalty which "was visited upon the Ancient Mariner
who shot the Albatross. Thy friend,

John G. Whittier.

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 20, 18S6.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am heartily in sympathy with your purposes for
the protection of birds, and should be glad to con-
tribute any influence that I can to that end.

If there were no purchasers there would be no de-
mand, and no reason for slaughtering these winged
gems. But as only women create a demand, it rests
upon them to stay this wanton destruction. I am
sure that it is only necessary to bring before Ameri-
can women the cruelty of this "slaughter of the in-
nocents" that fashion is carrying on, to secure a re-
nunciation of this ornament and the salvation of
birds.

On this subject the kind feelings, the taste, and
aesthetic sympathy of the whole community are on
your side, and if you persevere you will surely win.
Henry Ward Beecher.

CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, N. Y., \

Feb. 22, 1886. \

Editor Forest and Stream:

You have indeed my hearty sympathy in every
effort to prevent the slaughter of my mnocent little
neighbors and friends, the birds. In the destruction
of forests and birds, the people of this land are invit-
ing very great evils and inflicting wrongs on posterity
which scarcely can be measured. The press should
render it impossibe for women to sin thoughtlessly
and ignorantly in demanding little birds for their
adornment. The evil should be brought home so
fully to the knowledge of all, that the continued
wearing of our useful little birds should become the
badge and indication of a callous, vulgar nature.
You are doing a humane and patriotic work in excit-
ing public aversion to one of the most cruel and
stupid wrongs of the age.

Respectfully yours,

Edward P. Roe,

West Tark, N. Y., Feb. 20, 1886.
Editor Forest and Streafu:

I scarcely need assure you that your undertaking
to form a society for the protection of our wild birds
against the ravages of the milliners and the sham
scientific collectors has my warmest sympathy and
approval. It is a barbarous taste which prompts
our women and girls to appear upon the street with
their head gear adorned with the scalps of our song-
sters; and it is mere vanity and affectation which
prompts so many persons to make up cabinets of the
nests and eggs of the same. The destruction -^f our
birds from their natural enemies is immense, and this
craze of the collectors, and folly of the milliners and
their customers in addition, threatens their serious
diminution.

I hope you may succeed in creating so strong a
public sentiment upon the subject that the collectors
of skins and eggs for the unworthy purposes of fash-
ion or to indulge the vanity of pseudo-naturalists
may suddenly find their occupation gone.

Please add my name to the list of the members of
tlie Audubon Society„ Very sincerely,

John Burroughs.

160 W. 59TH Street, \
New York, Feb. 20, 18S6. \

Editor Forest and Stream:

No one who will take the trouble to give the mat-
ter a few moments' serious consideration can be in
doubt, I think, as to the wisdom of organizing the
Audubon Society, and I am thankful that such a
step is contemplated. There is an element of savag-
ery in the use of birds for personal decoration, which
is in grotesque contrast with our boasts of civiliza-
tion. But even the savage stops short, as a rule,
with the feathers. It is only Christian people who
think it worth while to butcher a whole bird to adorn
their head gear. I am sure, however, that this is
largely from that unreflecting habit which is a lead-
\wy vice in people who follow the fashions. But it is
a vice; as Hood sang, when he wrote —

For evil is wrought
By want of thought
As well as by want of heart.

If the Audubon Society can teach men, and es-
pecially women, to think on this subject, half of the
battle will have been won. Henry C. Potter.

Andover, Mass., Feb. 21, 1886.
Editor Forest and Stream:

I am in earnest and indignant sympathy with the
motive of any society organized to prevent the mur-
der of birds for decorative purposes.

v.. S. Phelps.

Vor all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

.nil of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
jirds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY?

For OUT-DOOR LIFE?

For CAMPING?

For ANGLING?

For SHOOTING?

For YACHTING?

For CANOEING?

Read the Foi^est and
Read the Foi-eU and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and

roughly told
of its own.

Stream.
Stream.
Stream.
Stream,
Stream.
Stream-.
Stream,

TERMS: $4.00 per year; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York City.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kinds of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
ihem, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "Aw.A.HS0pSE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

By C. BowvER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole range of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind j'et
issued in America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^°Seiid for free catalogue of Forest and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto-
NiN Kousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. _A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im^
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor oi Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
ow n canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kenne' editor of Forest and Streaiu
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogi
has taught the author that thest intelligent animals are more
e.^sily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana 1;erners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts the
knowledge of the woods th t he has been fifty years i.- i ;quir-
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can re^-l
this book without learning- something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Pitu.tshing Co., 3 iS Broadway, New York.

C. L. SCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— '■ FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members in
canvassing for subscribers for the Audubon Mac.azink, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the AuDUBON Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the AuDUiiON. Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List lY., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is
trying for a prize.

XjIST I. (for lO Subsnr.ptions).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell,

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pik=, Salmon and Trout

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

Common Objects of the Seashore.

Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.

Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-

berton.
Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking, Floyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover s Album, Treatise on Canine

Diseases.

T^IST II. (for SO Snbscriplions)

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease

Forest Waters the Farm, paper.

Mrs._ Partington's Mother Goose, 100

illustrations.
Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of American History.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Lina in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., IMorant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yaciit Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

Canoe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sailing.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

I>I ;

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,
Keene.

Hints on Camping. '

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondacks, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boj's, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illustrated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon M >g.-vzine.
Baar Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Co.v,
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondacks,

Northrup.

X III. (for 30 Subscriptions)

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the
Regiment.

Life of Daniel Eoone and the Hunters 0/
Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer Motheis in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes.
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.

Leedle Yawkoob Strauss.

Young America's Picture Book.

Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.

Our Boys, Olive Thorne.

Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours with a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect World, Figuier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,
Stephens.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway,
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, il'.u;., C. B. Reynolds
Our New Alaska, illus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
I^IST I -v. (for 40 Subscriptions)

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright.
Wonders of the Yellowstone.
Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs. C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1S88.

Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle, Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Games.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

Thompson.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and P.istimes.
Frank Forester's Manual for Young

Sportsmen.

LIST 'V. (for 50 Subsoriplions)

Cruises in Small Y»ehts, Speed.

Model Yachts, Grosvenor.

Dogs, Theif Management and Treat-

meiw m Disease.
Youatt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Coues' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Langille.
Boat Building and Sailing, Neison.
Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck.
Cassell's Book of Sports and Pastimes.
Riding Recollections, Whyte Melville.

Our Friend the Dog, Stables.
Woods and Lakes of Maine.
Tenants of Our Old Farm, He

McCook, illustrated.
History of the Mastiflf, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 318 Broadway, New York.

For all who take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

full of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and \i'oodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
birds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and roughly told
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles of its own

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY? Read the Forest and Stream.

For OUT-DOOR LIFE? Read the Forest and Stream.

For CAMPING ? Read the Forest and Stream.

For ANGLING? Read the Forest and Stream.

For SHOOTING? Read the Forest and Stream.

For YACHTING ? Read the Forest and Stream.

For CANOEING? Read the Forest and Stream.

TERMS: $4.00 per j^ear; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) 10 cents.
Mention this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York Citj.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and F?od.

This superb volume contains a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kinds of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, where to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHsoosE." A series of seven fables in prose and tc
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Aairondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

By _C. BowYER Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Small Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole range of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued in America. The text occupies 323 pages, illustrated
with many engravings, aud besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price $1.50.

^^Send for free catalogue of Forest a^id Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto-
nin Kousset; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are ot agricultural im-
portance; 109 pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Building

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of boat
building by the canoeing editor ol Forest and Stream. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.50.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventut>
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severity. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1 00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In.-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana IJerners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts th«
knowledge of the woods th t he has been fifty years i.; t :quir
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can read
this book without learning something. Price $1.00,

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publtshint; Co., 31S Broadway, New York.

C. L. SCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

AUDUBON PRIZE LIST.

TOURING the past year we have had a great deal of valuable assistance from young members ift
^"^ canvassing for subscribers for the AiJDUBON Magazine, and although Audubon boys and girls are
enthusiastic in the cause of bird protection, and of course know that virtue is its own reward, we have no
doubt they will be just as pleased as other boys and girls to get some substantial token in proof that their
efforts have been appreciated. We have accordingly determined to present every member who has sent us
ten subscriptions and upward during the past year, with a free copy of the Audubon Magazine for a year,
or the Society's silver badge, or any book in List I. below, as they may elect. Collectors of twenty sub-
scriptions are entitled to select any book in List II., or they may select a book from List I., together with
a badge or a free copy of the Audubon, Collectors of thirty subscriptions are entitled to select any book
in List III.; of forty subscriptions any book in List IV., and the collector of fifty subscriptions any
book in List V. This system of giving prizes having been initiated, will be permanently continued. Any
member sending in ten subscriptions during the coming year, may claim a prize immediately, or may let
the account go on until entitled to a book in the second or any higher class. The subscriptions may be
sent in at any time during the year, but with the first installment the canvasser must advise us that he is
trying for a prize.

T^IST I. (for lO Siibsor ptions).

The America's Cup.

Angling, Blakely.

Angling Talks, Dawson.

Fly-Fishing, Pennell.

Fresh and Salt Water Aquaria.

Trolling for Pikp, Salmon and Trout.

American Bird Fancier.

Cage and Singing Birds.

Common Objects cf the Seashore.
Boat Sailing and Management, Prescott.
Canoeing in Kanuckia, Norton and Hab-
berton.

The Dog in Health, Habits and Disease
Forest Waters the Farm, paper.
Mrs. Partington's Mother Goose^ io«
illustrations.

American Salmon Fisherman.

Fysshe and Fysshynge.

Rod and Line in Colorado Waters.

Trout Culture.

Intelligence of Animals, illus., Morant.

Native Song Birds.

Amateur Yacht Designing, Biddle.

Book of Knots, illus., Tom Bowling.

Canoe and Camp Cookery, Seneca.

C.moe Handling, C. B. Vaux.

Frazer's Practical Boat Sa'ling.

Practical Boat Building, Nelson.

The America's Cup, cloth.

Adventures in the Wilderness, Murray.

Camps in the Rockies, Grohman.

Cruise of the Little Nan, Wilkins.
Dog Breaking', Fioyd.
Englishe Dogges. Reprint of 1576.
Glover's Album, Treatise on Canine
Diseases.

LIST II. (for SO

Hints on Camping.

Woodcraft, Nessmuk.

Map of Adirondaclcs, Stoddard.

Athletic Sports for Boys, Wood.

The Saddle Horse, Guide to Riding and

Training, illu:;trated.
Adventures on the Great Hunting

Grounds of the World.
Bound Vol. I. of the Audubon M gazine.
Bear Hunting.

Dog Training vs. Breaking, Hammond.
Keeping One Cow.
Orange Culture.
Profits in Poultry.
Camps and Tramps in the Adirondaoks,

Northrup.

LIST III. (for 30 Sabseriptions).

Field Botany, Walter P. Manton.
Stories of Americ_n Historj'.
Stories About Dogs, Estelle.
When I Was a Girl.

Su."b?criptions).

Daughter of the Regiment, Jane G. Aus-
tin.

Outpost, Sequel to Daughter of the

Regiment.
Life of Daniel Eoone and the Hunters of

Kentucky.

Noble Deeds of American Women.
Pioneer Mothers in the West.
Anecdotes of Animals.

Anecdotes of Birds, Reptiles and Fishes,
Mrs. R. Lee.

Stories of American History, Dodge.
Leedle Vawkoob Strauss.
Young America's Picture Book.
Our Girls, Louisa M. Olcott.
Our Boys, Olive Thome.

Fly-Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout,

Keene.
Scientific Anglers.

A Naturalist's Rambles About Home.
Birds and Wild Animals, Wilson.
Half Hours vi'Ith a Naturalist, Wood.
Insect V/orld, FIguier.
Naturalists' Assistant, Kingsley.
Canoe and Boat Building for Amateurs,

Stephens.

LIS

Fly-Rods and Fly-1 ackle. Wells.
Antelope and Deer of America.
Game Water Birds of the Atlantic Coast.
Manual of Vertebrates, Jordan.
Naturalists' Guide, Maynard.
Boat Sailor's Manual, Qualtrough.

LIS

A. O. U. Check List of North American

Birds.
Couee' Check List of North American

Birds.
Land and Game Birds, Minot.

Canoe and Camera, Steele.
Voyage of the Paper Canoe, Bishop.
Four Months in a Sneakbox.
Rifle, Rod and Gun in Norway.
Camping and Cruising in Florida.
Old St. Augustine, illus., C. B. Reynold
Our New Alaska, i.lus., Hallock.
Southern California, Van Dyke.
Famous Horses of America.
Rod and Gun in California.
T \'Sr . (for 40 Subscriptions)

Sporting Adventures in the Far West.
Young Moose Hunters, Stephens.
Dogs and Their Doings, Morris.
Practical Pigeon Keeping, Wright
Wonders of the Yellowstone.
Home Book of Indoor Games, Mrs C. L.

Smith.
Only Girls, Virginia F. Townsend.
Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.
Worthington's Annual for 1888.

Cruises in Small Yachts, Speed.
Model Yachts, Grosvenor.

Dogs, Their Management and Treat-
ment in Disease.
Youalt on the Dog.
Profitable Poultry Keeping, Beale.

American Boy's Own Book of Sports

and Gaines.
Boy's Book of Sports and Pastimes,

rhomp/son.
Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.
F.ank Forester's Manual for Voung

Sportsmen.

T '\' . (for oO Subscripiions).

Our Birds and Their Haunts, Lang'lle. Our Friend the Dog, Stables.

Boat Building and Sailing Nelson. Woods and Lakes of Maine.

Yacht Sailing, Vanderbeck. • Tenants of Our Old Farm, Henry C.

Cassell's' Book of Sports and Pastimes. McCook, illustrated.

RIdin ,' Recollections, Whyte Melville. History of the Maotiff, Wynn.

Address AUDUBON MAGAZINE, 318 Broadway, New York.

For all wlio take an interest in Outdoor Recreation and Study.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL

full of the lore of woods and waters, sketches of travel and adventure with rod and gun,
stories of camp and woodland shanty life, natural history papers on game and song
birds, studies of wild animals and their ways, camp-fire yarns, instructive papers, and
experiences of backwoods hunters ; with innumerable practical hints, helps and wrinkles

DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A TASTE

For NATURAL HISTORY?

For OUT-DOOR LIFE?

For CAMPING?

For ANGLING?

For SHOOTING?

For YACHTING?

For CANOEING?

Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and
Read the Forest and

roughly told
of its owHc

Stream,
Stream.
Stream.
Streain.
Stream.
Stream.
Stream.

TERMS: $4.00 per 3^ear; $2.00 for 6 months. Single numbers (of newsdealers or mailed) ID cents,
MentioE this magazine. Address

FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., New York Citj.

FOREST AND STREAM BOOKS.

Sport with Gun and Rod.

This superb volume contnins a vast amount of matter of the
highest interest to sportsmen. Almost all kinds of American
game are treated in its pages, and it is profusely illustrated ;
886 pp. Three styles are published: Embossed leather, $15;
cloth, $6; cloth, on cheaper paper, $4.

Antelope and Deer of America.

By Hon. J. D. Caton, LL. D. This volume tells of the
haunts and habits of our antelope and deer, Vk-here to find
them, how to hunt them, of their life in the woods and under
domestication. Price $2.50.

Forest and Stream Fables.

By "AwAHSoosE." A series of seven fables in prose and to
every one a picture. All of them have pith and point. locts.

The Canoe Aurora.

By Dr. C. A. Neide. The well-told story of the author's
cruise in a tiny canoe from an Adirondack lake to the Gulf of
Mexico. Price $1.00.

Canoe Handling.

By _C. BowYFR Vaux ("Dot"). By the first of living
American canoeists. In this book he tells all about how to sail
and handle a canoe, and how to care for it, either when in use
or laid up for winter. Price $1.00.

Email Yachts.

Their Design and Construction, by C. P. Kunhardt.
This sumptuous quarto volume covers the whole r;<nge of
yacht designing and care, and is the only work of the kind yet
issued ia America. The text occupies 325 pages, illustrated
witk many engravings, and besides there are 70 full-page
plates. Price $7.00.

Our New Alaska.

By Chas. Hallock. In this handsome illustrated volume,
Mr. Hallock gives the result of his travels in our northernmost
possessions. Price 81.50.

^^Said for free catalogue of Foi-est and Stream

The Forest Waters the Farm ;

Or, the Value of Woodlands as Reservoirs. By Anto-
NIN RousSet; translated by Rev. S. W. Powell. A famous
book on forestry. Every farmer ought to have it, for the
questions so intelligently discussed in it are of agricultural im-
portance; log pp. Price, paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents.

Canoe and Boat Buildingr

For Amateurs. By W. P. Stephens. A manual of bo.it
building by the canoeing editor of Forest and Streain. Be-
sides the 189 pages of descriptive text, there are 29 plates,
working drawings, which enable even the novice to build his
own canoe and build it well. Price $1.30.

Hunting Trips of a Ranchman.

By Theodore Roosevelt. A book of hunting adventure
in Dakota and Montana. Price $3.50.

Training vs. Breaking.

By S. T. Hammond, kennel editor of Forest and Stream.
Nearly forty years experience in training and handling dogs
has taught the author that these intelligent animals are more
easily controlled by kindness than by severicy. There is a
chapter on training pet and house dogs. Price $1.00.

Canoe and Camp Cookery.

By "Seneca." A little book full of receipts and hints for
the camp cook, by a practical man who has tried them. In-
dispensable to the camper. Price $1.00.

Fyshhe and Fysshynge.

By Dame Juliana P.erners. An elegant reprint of a
quaint old book written in the Fifteenth century. Price $1.00.

Woodcraft.

By "Nessmuk." In "Woodcraft" Nessmuk imparts th«
knowledge of the wooJs th t he has been fifty y ars i.i i :quir
ing. No man, however much he has camped out, can read
this book without learning something. Price $1.00.

books.

Address Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 31S Broadway, New York.

C. I.. CCHEMBER, 96 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.— " FOREST AND STREAM" PRESS.

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