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‘ANVIST TTIATIW

NATURE IN ACADIE

BY

H. K. SWANN

Author of “ The Birds of London,” &¢.

London
JOHN BALE & SONS
OXFORD HOUSE
GREAT TITCHFIELD STREET, OXFORD STREET, W.

1895
EW.

A.2z01835

PREFACE,

LitTLe apology is necessary for the appearance of
this book ; inasmuch as it is not intended to be in any
sense a scientific work. It is more strictly the simple
narrative of a Nature-lover’s first voyage westward,
together with some few attempts at the word-picturing
of what he saw during his sojourn in Acadia, which in
prose is rendered Nova Scotia—a sweet name, maybe,
but not so sweet as the elder one.

Neither is the book intended to be concerned with the

_ doings of men, and it will be found, indeed, that the
‘author has studiously ignored the subject. One need
not journey three thousand miles to study human Nature.

It will be found, however, that some little attention
has been paid to ornithology, and in this connection it
is probable that the work may contain something of
interest to the naturalist as well as the Nature-lover.

H.K.S.

H. D. THOREAU.

Many long years have fled
Since thou wast gone—

Gone! aye, yet still not dead ;
Thou livest on!

In every zephyr breeze
That wanders lone,

Whispering among the trees
With listless tone—

Striking on harpstrings free
Sweet sylvan chords,

While every list’ning tree
Breathless applauds—

In all the songs of birds,
Mid woodlands lone,

I hear thy noble words
Sadder of tone.

E’er through their music throng,
It seems to me,

Whispers of heavenly song
That speak of thee.

And in the rippling streams
That softly sing,
Thy voice for ever seems
Through them to ring.
* * *

See where the winding creek
Pierces the land

In a clear silver streak,
Woods on each hand!

vill.

HA. D. Thoveau.

There as the wavelets swell
At break of day,

A message strange they tell
Idly at play—

Burthen so free and far,
So deep and wide,

Lisped to the truant star
Caught by the tide—

Message of Spring and Youth,
Decay and Death ;

Echoes of secret truth
That the gay south wind saith
Under its breath.

And e’en the birches slight
Along the shore,

That from the waters bright
Their secrets store,

Speak their young modest mind
With whispers soft,

That an eavesdropping wind
Carries aloft
Unto me oft—

Bids me to list the song,
Sung low and faint

By winds that sigh along
Sad in complaint ;

Plaint of a sorrow rare
In whispered tone ;
Murmurs and sighings their
Meaning unknown ;
Babbled by leaves and air
And brooklets lone.

NATURE IN ACADIE.

000000

CHAPTER I.

: Have the elder races halted ?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers !— Whitman.

H for a larger field—the solitude of the
forest, or the silence of the prairie,
where one can roam at will and lose
the rush of life! Such was the hope
that found me on the deck of an out-
ward bound liner in the docks at
Liverpool on this 29th day of Sep-
tember, buoyed with the hope of the

newer world across the Atlantic. Long years had I

thirsted for the vast solitary woods, the clear sparkling

lakes and silent hills of that great new land, and now at
last came the moment of departure.

Clamour and confusion reign supreme. The deck of
the great steamer is crowded with passengers taking a
last view of the old country, which they are leaving,
perhaps, for many years, possibly for ever! Before we
are clear of the docks night succeeds to the calm glory

I

2 NATURE IN ACADIE.

of the autumn evening, and when we are fairly out in
the Mersey the upper deck rapidly becomes deserted.
Gradually the town is left behind, and the rows of lights
on either shore grow fewer and fainter, giving place to
night, still and dark, broken only by the screech of an
occasional steamer and the regular thud of the engines.
The stars are now peering down upon the murky black-
ness of the river; the sea-breeze ireshens, and I retire
below, soon to be lulled to sleep by the gentle rolling of
the vessel and the regular ‘‘swish”’ of the waves against
her sides.

The next morning I was on deck soon after daybreak,
the weather being fine, but rather hazy, and the sea just
a trifle “‘ choppy.’’ We were passing through the Irish
Sea the greater part of the day, but although I was
on deck until night I observed hardly any birds; there
being but a few gannets and a small number of the
curious Manx shearwaters, while once a lesser black-
backed gull passed us.

We arrived at Queenstown in the small hours of the
morning, leaving again before daybreak, and until about
mid-day the south-west coast of Ireland was in view at
no great distance. The coast here was one continuous
line of undulating hills with precipitous cliffs, without a
tree visible, but clothed everywhere in a vegetable
carpet of beautiful and varied hues, while here and
there tall rugged rocks rose sheer up from the glassy
surface of the ocean, and in the dips of the coast a few
cabins could be perceived, appearing like tiny white
specks on the hillsides. The weather all day was fine
and bright and the pure sea air peculiarly exhilarating.

I did not notice many birds, there being but a few
gannets, or solan geese, shearwaters and guillemots,
with one or two of the small black petrels. In the
afternoon, however, when we had fairly lost sight of
land, a small bird flew over the vessel and seemed
about to settle, but then darted away. It appeared to
be some species of Axthus or pipit.

After leaving the Irish coast things changed for the
worse, and for the next six or seven days we were

NATURE IN ACADIE. 3

labouring against terrible seas which washed the deck
from end to end and tossed the great vessel about like
a cork in their fury. However, after some days the
weather, although still boisterous, quieted down suffi-
ciently to allow me to remain on deck, and I was thus
enabled to continue my observations.

The only birds which I observed in the mid-Atlantic
were the fulmars, a considerable number of which were
following the vessel, having been increasing in numbers
daily since we left the Irish coast. They followed per-
sistently in the wake of the vessel, wheeling and gliding
with placid flight hour after hour, and every now and
then dropping down upon the refuse which was floating
in our track. They frequently settled on the water,
floating buoyantly upon the waves, and now and then
paddling vigorously towards some floating bit of offal,
and on seizing it being pursued through the water by
several other individuals who endeavoured to tear the
prize from the fortunate possessor. They very often
flew close alongside, but I never heard them utter any
kind of note; most of them had the head, neck and
under parts pure white, but in one or two they were of
a greyish tint, there being light and dark phases of this
species.

The day before reaching Newfoundland was much
finer; the vessel moved steadily through the water,
making good headway, and the sun shone quite warmly.
We were passing over the famous Newfoundland Banks,
and the quantity of bird life was surprising, affording
undeniable signs of the proximity of land and also of
the abundance of congenial food.

Large’ numbers of kittiwakes were accompanying us ;
there appeared to be quite 200 of these pretty little
gulls—the majority being in immature dress—and they
first made their appearance three or four days before,
when I noticed four or five of them among the numbers
of fulmars which then accompanied us; since then the
present species had increased in numbers, while the
fulmars had decreased, and I observed but one or two of
the latter on this day. The flight of these little gulls is

4 NATURE IN ACADIE.

light and graceful in the extreme, they usually fly close
to the water, upon which they frequently settle, but they
often rise higher in the air and wheel over the vessel, or
several at a time come close alongside, flying close to
the surface of the water, their sharply curved wings
moving with a quick regular beat; usually, however,
they are to be seen stretching in an irregular column
far away in the vessel’s wake like white specks, alter-
nately rising and falling, sweeping onward or settling in
the long line of foam which marks her track.

I also observed here several small parties of the little
auk or ‘‘dovekie’’; these little birds fly heavily, close
to the surface of the water, and in a compact body;
they are easily recognised by their black and white
plumage, and are usually seen swimming close together
upon the surface of the water, but they dive instantly
upon the slightest alarm, and remain below a consider-
able time, reappearing at some distance.

About noon a small bird flew on board in an exhausted
condition and settled on the rail of the bridge, after-
wards flying down to the deck, where it picked up a few
crumbs, but on my approach it flew away again and
was seen no more. I recognised it as a snow-bunting
in summer dress, but the appearance of this little wan-
derer at such a distance from land was a matter of some
surprise to me. I noticed in addition one or two guille-
mots and petrels, and also several jaegers or skuas,
including the long-tailed or Buffon’s skua, the flight of
which is swift and graceful. The porpoises, of which
I observed small parties every day until now, had all
disappeared.

The morning of Sunday, October 11, broke in a day
of singular fineness, and found us lying at rest in the
land-locked harbour of the quaint little town of St.
John’s, Newfoundland. I lost no time in getting on
shore, and immediately started on a tour of investigation
in the surrounding country. The day was cool and
bright, but far warmer and drier than I had expected,
and the sun sailed high in a cloudless blue sky.

Once clear of the little town I directed my steps

NATURE IN ACADIE. 5

towards the woods lying in its rear, and found every-
where much of interest. The land here is mostly under
cultivation, but it is very poor, the most noticeable pro-
duction being stones, which cover the fields and are
heaped up on the roadsides, while all the walls and
boundaries are made of slabs and pieces of stone piled
one upon the other, and all the farmhouses and buildings
are either made of wood or stone. The stone is mostly
sedimentary deposits of various kinds.

There were very few birds about here, but I noticed a
sparrow in a little plantation which may have been the
chipping sparrow so well known in the States. I ob-
served several small parties of the American robin or
migratory thrush; they flew high and were rather wary,
settling in the thick fir plantations where they appeared
to feed. I also noticed here a few American crows
flying overhead. Walking back in the direction of the
sea I came ona small lake by the side of which I dis-
turbed a spotted sandpiper, which allowed a very near
approach before taking to flight, when it darted off
uttering a shrill feet, pect, and settled again at the water’s
edge at some distance. The day had now turned out
cloudy, but so mild was it that I caught several small
moths here, including a “‘ vapourer,” exactly resembling
the species (O. antiqua) which is to be seen so commonly
in the streets of London. Up in the hills near by I dis-
turbed a single fox sparrow, a large handsome species,
having the lower part of the back and the tail of a
reddish colour.

The next day I made my way on to the hills stretching
away along the coast to the southward. There is a
very extensive tract of rocky and mountainous land here,
which presents much resemblance to the Highlands of
Scotland, both as regards its flora and its picturesque
appearance—hills and dales, covered with great boulders
and protruding rocks, alternating with peaty bogs, stag-
nant swamps or clear quiet mountain lakes, with here
and there a rushing stream or miniature waterfall; and
this extending as far as the eye can reach, the only sign
of the proximity of man being yon hillside on which the

6 NATURE IN ACADIE.

pine stumps stand out grim and hoary, marking where
the destroying axe has been at work. The forests of
the island appear to be chiefly coniferous, and on the
coast the trees do not attain to any considerable size,
although there is a luxuriant undergrowth. In the
great unexplored interior, however, are many tracts of
forest and also some very extensive lakes.

A melancholy history attaches to the former natives
of Newfoundland, for of the once numerous and power-
ful race of aborigines throughout the length and breadth
of this great country, not one remains. The colony of
Indians on the west coast of the island belong to the
Mic-Mac tribe, to whose persecution, added to that of
the dreaded paleface, the extinction of the Beoths
was due. Early in the present century proclamations
protecting the Beoths, as these aborigines called
themselves, were issued by the British Government,
but as usual they came too late, for a very few
years after saw the final extinction of these ill-fated
people. Rumour, indeed, has it, that the last of the
Beoths, a mere handful, passed across the Strait of Belle
Isle in two canoes early in the present century, and
landing on the opposite coast of Labrador, disappeared.

We left St. John’s about noon on Tuesday, and during
the remainder of the day were skirting the coast of
Newfoundland in a southerly direction. I observed a
fair number of seabirds of different kinds, including a
number of my recent acquaintances, the kittiwakes, and
also several great skuas.

We passed the mouth of the Gulf of St. Lawrence
during the night of October 14, and all the next morning
were steaming down the coast of Nova Scotia, within
twelve or fifteen miles of land, and with the surface of
the water almost unruffled, so delightful was the day.
The coast presents an almost unbroken line, dipping
here and there into a valley where some little river
enters the sea, and dotted at frequent intervals with
tiny white houses, succeeded perhaps by scarcely dis-
tinguishable fields or wooded and sterile hills, with here
and there a church spire rising in the distance. On

NATURE IN ACADIE, 7

such a day one is tempted to forget that this is the
“mournful and misty Atlantic,” and that yonder coast
is the home of those treacherous sea fogs, which are
unfortunately far too frequent here.

Presently a dark line was distinguishable right ahead
which soon resolved itself into a rocky point stretching
out to the southward and known as Chebucto Head.
The vessel’s course had been altered, and we were now
rapidly nearing the entrance to Halifax harbour. The
sea here was unruffled and glittered like glass in the rays
of the declining autumn sun, while the air was so re-
markably clear and still as to produce a curious optical
illusion, for the land appeared to be but a comparatively
few yards from one, while it was in reality more than a
mile away. Soon we were passing by the North-West
Arm, winding serpent-like between its sloping and
wooded shores, all gorgeous with the varied autumn
foliage of the trees, and ere long we were lying alongside
the wharf in the harbour of Halifax.

CHAPTER II.

HE harbour of Halifax is said to be,
perhaps, the safest and best in the world,
and it certainly seems to deserve this
eulogy, nature having rendered it impreg-
nable to the elements, and man having
done the same as regards his fellow-man.
It is five or six miles in length, and is
connected at the north end, by a narrow

arm, with Bedford Basin, a great forest-lined sheet of

water six miles long by four in width, and capable,
according to the guide books, of containing all the
navies of the world.

Halifax, the capital of Nova Scotia, differs not from
the ordinary run of civilised cities, there being the
usual proportion of substantially-built brick or stone
houses sheltering the rich, and the usual proportion of
wooden cabins sheltering the poor. It stretches for
some three miles along the western slope of the harbour,
and is terminated in the south by the entrance to the
North-West Arm, which circles round for some three
miles in the rear of the town. This picturesque inlet is
about a quarter of a mile in breadth, with abruptly
sloping sides, thickly wooded for the most part—except
on the town side, where some of the “ well-to-do” have
pitched their habitations, and converted its less abrupt
shores into pastures and gardens. From the head of
the Arm a low valley continues the circuit round to an
angle at the south-west end of Bedford Basin, at a spot

NATURE IN ACADIE. 9

known as Three-Mile House, from the fact of its being
situated at a distance of three miles from Halifax.

Near the head of the Arm, and on the side away from
the town, another pretty little inlet opens out of it, forming
a shallow basin in the midst of wooded heights that tower
around it; at the mouth of this inlet is a tiny island,
occupied by the military, and known as Melville Island.
Dense woods climb the steep sides of this extremely
picturesque little basin, obtaining a precarious footing
among the giant boulders or fragments of granite which
are piled in confusion everywhere, or with their roots
uncovered by the fury of one of the numerous torrents
which descend these rugged slopes after a rainstorm,
tearing huge boulders and blocks of granite from their
beds, and launching them with the momentum of an
avalanche down their furrowed channels, accompanied
by a shower of the débvis which is for ever finding its
way down to the already shallow basin below. It is
curious to see these doomed trees, half uncovered by
the violence of the flood, yet clinging with all their re-
maining arms, or roots, to the torn and jagged sides of
the watercourse, like a despairing swimmer, grasping
with his ebbing strength some jutting rock in the vain
hope of escape from the relentless torrent which bears
him swiftly away.

_On climbing to the ridge above, one finds oneself
standing upon a more or less revealed plateau of granite,
forming the crest of this mighty upheaval, and running
away on either hand in ribs or buttresses, which
form miniature valleys between, filled with a dense
undergrowth springing up between the scattered granite
boulders; or with solemn moss-draped firs, and pines,
and hemlocks, staggering up the rocky slopes and
standing out triumphantly here and there on the arid
crown, alternating now and again with graceful maple
and birch, while sometimes one looks down into a verit-
able Valley of Death, the vegetation having had its brief
day and moved on elsewhere, leaving gaunt, lifeless
stumps, or prostrate and whitened stems and limbs, for
all the world like a great littered mass of bleached

10 NATURE IN ACADIE.

bones. But up from this great charnel-house even
now are springing new undergrowth and lusty youthful
trees and herbage, and soon the roving birds will come
here again, and the little red squirrel will make his nest
here once more when these firs shall have reared their
proud heads over this rampart of granite to look on the
decay of these stately neighbours of theirs.

Even on the crest of the hill old motherly Nature has
covered up the grim mass of granite with a scanty film
of débvis, and watered it with tears of rain, and the forest
has crept slowly up and across, and hidden the naked
rock under its ample cloak, except here and there where
a rugged patch stares barrenly out from the verdant
fold of moss which borders it around and creeps slowly
and steadily, year by year, up it from all sides, while
the rock’s furrowed back is for ever wearing and
crumbling down to meet it. These are the haunts of
my little favourite, the black snowbird, and whenever
you approach softly up to one of these little rock-patches,
you are almost sure to see this trim little bird hopping
daintily, like our own familiar robin, over the harsh
granite, now and then pecking in a half-hearted way at
something, or perching motionless, with a seeming gentle
contentment that sends an indescribable feeling through
you when you involuntarily raise your eyes and glance
around at the vast, silent forest—without a path, a habi-
tation, and hardly a sign of animal life—which closes in
around you.

All the way along from the heights above the North-
West Arm, and above the valley previously mentioned,
and above the great Bedford Basin, one vast continua-
tion of granite ridges, and forest, and lake, and scrub-
covered upland, runs back for miles upon miles, and
here it is that most of my spare time during my stay at
Halifax was spent, and most of the information given in
the following pages was gathered.

Ir

CHAPTER III.

se * URING a short walk in the vicinity of

ee Halifax, on the day after my arrival, I
observed our European house-sparrow to
be very common about the town; in fact
it seemed even as impudent and abundant
as in the streets of London, they having,
no doubt, now been naturalized long
enough to look upon these American cities as their
rightful inheritance.

I observed numbers of the American crow about the
fields in the immediate neighbourhood of the town.
This bird very much resembles the European species
(C. covone), but, to my ear, its note is somewhat different,
being sharper and more querulous, and at a little dis-
tance having a very great resemblance to the bark of a
small dog. By the roadside, among the fields, I dis-
turbed two or three American pipits, a bird which has
much of the habits and appearance of our meadow
pipit (A. pratensis) and, to an English observer, seeming
to be almost the same bird. These individuals were
evidently only visitors on their southward migration,
their breeding range being to the northward, in Labra-
dor and up to the Arctic regions.

On the morning of October 18, a fine, sunny day,
I started out for a ramble in the direction of the
North-West Arm, which I reached after a walk of
nearly three miles. At this season the beautiful and
varied hues of the autumnal foliage formed quite a

I2 NATURE IN ACADIE.

striking spectacle as I approached the woods, and one
which I do not think I have ever seen equalled by our
English woods.

Passing the head of the Arm, I ascended the opposite
hill by the St. Margaret’s Bay road and soon came to
Chocolate Lake, a small-sized lake, not more than a
quarter of a mile in breadth, lying to the left of the
road and shut in by private lands. The granite begins
to appear at the surface just here, but I noticed that
near the head of the Arm the surface is underlain by a
large amount of dark-looking sedimentary rock, strongly
impregnated with iron, and apparently formed as a de-
posit in some former estuary or mouth of ariver. It is
in a fragmentary condition and mixed with clayey loam,
giving it a ‘“ pudding-like” appearance, and suggesting
the action of some mountain torrent (or, perhaps,
glacier) in the rounded form of the fragments. To-
wards Halifax, however, almost the whole hill consists
of this same kind of rock upheaved bodily.

On the outskirts of the forest I observed several
juncos, or black snowbirds, hopping about the roads, but
on my nearer approach they quickly vanished into the
undergrowth. This interesting little bird is almost
silent except for an occasional slight chirp; its plumage
is sober but pleasing, the bill being yellowish-white,
entire upper plumage and the throat and breast dusky
slate colour, and the abdomen and outer tail feathers
white; in the female the upper plumage is greyish-
brown instead of dusky slate.

Continuing along the road I came upon a series of
beautifully clear and sparkling lakes, hemmed in by the
picturesque forms of the granite hills, clothed with their
rich autumnal garb of many-hued foliage of the scrub
and underwood. These lakes drain from one to another
for miles, Chocolate Lake being the termination of the

_ series. The road here ran for some distance along the
water’s side, while on the left rose precipitous wooded
heights with occasionally a patch of low swampy ground
intervening, covered with a dense growth of spongy
moss and filled with swamp-loving bushes.

NATURE IN ACADIE. 13

The day being particularly fine and warm many
insects were abroad in spite of the lateness of the
season, which, however, hardly corresponds to the
chilly and windy October of old England, for here the
autumn is the most beautiful:and enjoyable time of all
the year, and is usually continued, in days of singular
fineness, right up to the middle of December.

I found, however, but two species of butterflies still
remaining. One of these (Colias philodice) much re-
sembled the pale clouded yellow (C. hyale) of Europe,
and I met with it in some abundance on the roadside
near a strip of pasture land. The other species ( Vanessa
milbeyti) presented a good deal of resemblance to the
familiar lesser tortoise-shell (V. urtice) of the old
country, but the markings on the basal half of both
anterior and posterior wings constituted a clearly-
defined patch of black, with only a faint indication of
reddish markings on the anterior wings, while the
remainder of each wing was unspotted reddish orange,
with the edge of the wing similar to that of V. urtice,
except that there were no white markings. The speci-
men which I obtained flew from over the wall of a
garden close by and glided along by a bank on the
roadside, much as our English variety would do.
Vanessa milbertt appears to be spread over the larger
part of North America, being found across the United
States to the Rocky Mountains, but it does not appear
to be very common in Nova Scotia.

This similarity to the old-world fauna is just as
evident in the Hetevocea or moths. There is, for instance,
a species of Abyvaxas common enough about Halifax
which can scarcely be distinguished by a casual observer
from the ‘currant moth” (A. gvossulariata) of England.

I met with a small species of the Libellulidz in con-
siderable abundance on the roadsides about the forest.
The male insect had the abdomen above of a bright
ruby colour, while the female had that part reddish
brown, the abdomen being slightly depressed and
thicker than in the Agvions of Europe, while the insect
was also larger than the typical examples of that genus.

14 NATURE IN ACADIE.

Another much larger species of ‘‘ dragonfly ” ( ‘‘ devil’s
darning-needles ’ they are called here, as in some
parts of England) was also not uncommon along the
sides of the lakes. It has the characteristics of shna
and is nearly three inches in length and four inches
across the extended wings, which latter are perfectly
transparent; the slender cylindrical abdomen is blackish
with several transverse markings of a pale blue, and
with two stripes of yellow upon each side of the thorax.
The flight of this insect is remarkably swift, and when
struck at with the net and missed it darts off with such
velocity that the eye can scarcely follow it. Sometimes
it comes gliding down the rocky gorge or sweeping
across the lake with a gentle movement of its wings,
and then, suddenly darting upward, it snaps up a fly
with an audible click of its jaws and glides on again in
search of fresh prey.

Among the rocks and boulders on sunny slopes I
found several marbled locusts (Locusta marmorata).
When settled this insect presents a dusky appearance,
the upper wings being mottled with dusky brown, but
the lower wings are pale yellow, with a darkish outer
margin, and are very noticeable in flight. \When flying
this insect produces a loud and peculiar ‘ clickmg”
sound ; it flies in an irregular manner and usually but
a short distance, settling on the bare surface of one
of the boulders, with which its mottled appearance
when at rest somewhat harmonizes; if disturbed it
leaps some distance like a grasshopper. The latter
insects also abounded and I obtained specimens of two
or three species.

In a little swamp I obtained a wasps’ nest of a kind
that is somewhat common in these parts. This speci-
men was at a height of about five feet above the swamp,
and was fixed to a spray in the upper part of a bush,
the twig passing through one side of the globe, and the
small shoots and leaves being also carefully worked
into the wall of the nest. It was about five inches in
diameter and almost globular, the outer wall being
composed of several distinct and separate layers or

NATURE IN ACADIE. I5

envelopes of a peculiarly thin, greyish-white kind of
wasp-paper; in the lower part was a small circular
opening through which the empty comb could be seen
in the interior. Others of these nests that I have seen
have been in bushes and saplings, all at moderate
heights, and in size usually not much exceeding the
one above described, although I have seen one fully
ten inches in diameter.

On October 1g I paid the first of many visits to
the veteran naturalist, Andrew Downs, C.M.Z.S., of
Halifax, who was then in his 81st year, although still
comparatively well both in mind and body. His long
and extensive experience and acquaintance with many
of the older naturalists—dating back to Audubon in
America, and Waterton, Gould, Jardine and other
naturalists of the old school in England—imparted an
especial interest to our conversation. To his credit
be it said that his collection of birds stands almost
unrivalled in point of workmanship and mounting. A
prominent group, in a case of Corvide, was a pair of
ravens with their nest and eggs, taken near the North-
West Arm in the vicinity of Halifax, and in this case
also are many medals and awards gained at former
exhibitions on both sides of the water. Among other
living birds were a fine pair of silver pheasants, the
female of which is small and soberly clad and altogether
unlike the beautiful male; also a purple or Martinique
gallinule, which I observed could perch and climb
among the slender twigs of a tree with considerable
facility, and one of our old homely birds, the blackbird.
He also showed me an exceptionally fine pair of snowy
owls, the female of which I found measured fully
twenty-seven inches in length, and was more heavily
marked than the male, which was also appreciably
smaller.

x * ok x K

Since my return to England the news of the death
of this simple-hearted and kindly old naturalist has
reached me, and it is with sincere pleasure that I find
myself enabled to inscribe these few lines, in default

16 NATURE IN ACADIE.

of better tribute, to the memory of one who will live
long in the minds of all those who knew him. He was
essentially a working naturalist, and so leaves very
little to retain him in the recollections of the younger
generations ; but his collection of birds, presented
shortly before his death to Dalhousie College Museum,
will perhaps form some slight memento of his work.

17

CHAPTER IV.

7 HE arst day of October opened fairly fine,
and the Fates seemed forbearing as I
made my preparations for a long day in
the forest. I was early astir, and the
inhabitants seemed to be still deep in
their slumbers as I wended my way past
the few houses at the head of the North-

West Arm.

With the exception of a few crows clamouring afar
off as they straggled away in search of an early break-
fast, the first living thing that met my gaze was a
pretty little “chipping squirrel,” ‘‘ chipmunk,” or
ground squirrel as it is variously called. There he sat,
on the bottom rail of the fence at the roadside, holding
a nut or berry in his little fore-paws, with his fearless
gaze turned round upon me as if to question the right
of my intrusion—but without a trace of fear. All the
stories and traditions of this little animal, treasured up
for generations in the mighty country that overshadowed
me even then, rushed through my mind as I beheld the
little “chipmunk” for the first time in his native
haunts. How different he and his surroundings were
to the captives or the ‘‘specimens” I had hitherto only
known! My eye wandering over the scene took in the
fearless little creature sitting there before me on the
rough-hewn rail, with the straggling bushes on either
hand, while behind the grassy strip of meadow sloped
down to the dark basin of Chocolate Lake, with the

2

18 NATURE IN ACADIE.

little ripples sparkling gaily in the morning sun, and all
around towered the hanging woods of hemlock and
pine. The moment I turned to continue on my way
again he dropped off the rail and disappeared in an
instant.

In the woods I noticed a good many chickadees, a
most lively and scolding little black-and-white-headed
species, with all the habits of the English titmice; it
appears to me to be intermediate between the coal and
marsh titmice of England. Sometimes associated with
these were a few golden-crowned kinglets (Regulus
satvapa) which might readily be taken for the European
goldcrest (R. cristatus), so similar is it in appearance and
habits. These little birds were creeping about in the
firs and uttering from time to time their feeble note,
just as their old world cousins do.* Another repre-
sentative of one of our familiar birds which I observed
here, was the brown creeper, which is almost identical
with the European species; it was creeping up the
stem of a fir and uttering its shrill, slight note from
time to time.

After passing over a zone of granite hillocks, of such
extraordinary irregularity that I had toleap and clamber
from boulder to boulder to make any progress, I came
upon a secluded little bog at the head of a small lake,
which was shut in on all sides by rocky and wooded
slopes, but connected at the farther end by a small
rocky channel with another swampy forest lake. This
bog had evidently formed a shallow part of the lake at
no very distant period, but it was now almost dry,
except at one part, where a small sluggish stream flowed
into the lake, springing mysteriously from the bowels of
the eternal granite, not a hundred yards away, in the
form of limpid crystal, but assuming an inky appearance
as it oozed slowly through the treacherous bog. This
stream necessitated very gingerly treading on my part

* The most important difference between these two species appears
to me to be in the greater size of the American bird, which is longer
by half an inch than the European, while the bill is also somewhat stouter
than in the latter. Like the European species, the female 2. satrapa
has the crest bright yellow, instead of reddish-orange as in the male.

NATURE IN ACADIE. . Ig

in crossing it, as the apparent tevva fivma on either side
was merely quaking peat-moss and swamp vegetation,
and trembled beneath my foot, while the water oozed up
as though it were a great sponge, and everywhere were
little intersections and veins of dark-looking water. I
espied a very handsome frog, having the under parts
reddish, just here, but before I could catch it, it dis-
appeared in the evil-looking water of the stream.

As I was leaving the bog, a marsh hawk came flying
slowly over. Such places as these are the favourite
haunts of this bird, as it can there find abundance of
prey in the shape of lizards, mice, small birds, or the
larger kinds of insects. This species is closely allied to
the hen harrier (Civcus cyaneus) of the old world; its
flight is slow and steady, and not very unlike that of its
half-cousins, the owls.

There were abundant signs of the presence of
“rabbits” (Lepus americanus) in all the more open spots
here, yet I only saw one of these animals during the
day, and that was extremely shy. In England this
species is known as the “ American hare,” but through-
out Canada and the United States it is almost invariably
known as the “rabbit,” and it is in fact not much
larger than our rabbit, although possessing the habits
and appearance of the hare; it also has the same leaping
gait as the latter, the hind legs being particularly long. ©

From here I passed over the adjoining ridge, and
after fording a little stream by means of the slippery,
moss-grown boulders projecting from its bed, and forcing
my way through the dense swamp bushes on the other
side, I found myself on Long Lake, which isa lake of
some considerable size and quite the largest one in this
neighbourhood.

The spot I had reached was evidently one of the
most secluded on the entire lake, solitary as it was,
and ‘having got to a drier and more open situation,
I paused awhile to view the wild and lonely scenes
which surrounded me. From here I could follow the
winding of the lake for nearly a couple of miles ahead,
where it became lost to view among the wooded hills.

20 NATURE IN ACADIE.

On my right, the arm I was upon was shut in by the
granite ridge I had previously crossed, while to my
left the shore was lower and clothed with dense woods
which descended right to the water’s edge, where the
monarchs of the forest struggled with the dwarfish and
mis-shapen underwood for a footing among the dripping
boulders, draped with green moss and fern, and for
ever kissed by the little ripples which sped across the
crystal waters to cast themselves with a murmuring
sigh against these adamantine breasts. The eternal
lapping of the water as the ripples played among the
boulders, was the only sound that broke the strange
and almost weird stillness. Never a cry came from
the vastness of the forest, never a bird cast a mo-
mentary shadow upon the lake—all Nature, in fact,
seemed to be silent and inanimate. %

A faint breeze’ was wafted over the lake, but not
enough to sway the boughs of the stern and rigid
pines and firs. The rippling waters sparkled brightly
in the sunshine, but I looked in vain for aquatic birds
upon their surface, neither was I able to meet with
much in the dense and solitary woods through which
I passed during my long tramp round the lake, but
in a thick spruce-wood IJ flushed a single ‘spruce par-
tridge’”’ or Canada grouse—a rather handsome grouse
which is said to be not very abundant anywhere in
this neighbourhood at the present time.

The strangest fact about these forests is that, in
spite of their lonely and retired nature, one is con-
stantly imagining oneself in close proximity with fre-
quented parts, or even habitations. Thus, whenever
I emerged into a more open part, I fancied I detected
signs of there being some track or clearing, although
the idea was always dispelled on closer observation ;
or again I frequently imagined I caught glimpses of
buildings through the trees, but if I endeavoured to
find my way to them, they vanished as completely as
the mocking mirage of the desert.

I was quite three hours on this lake, which at first
appeared to be by no means so extensive, although

NATURE IN ACADIE. 21
continually opening up fresh arms and corners as I
wandered on. I must have nearly made the circuit
before I came upon a forest road to which I betook

myself with some relief, and before long found myself
on my homeward way.

22

CHAPTER V.

CTOBER 25.—To-day was Sunday, and
@ relenting from his late fit of drowsiness
the great sun-god shone forth in his
splendour—flecking the ripples on the
breeze-swept Bedford Basin with the
golden light of daybreak and even

ws Oe bringing back a smile to the face of
the dying summer.

Who could resist a stroll on such a morning as this,
when even the bands of black-coated old crows indulged
in hoarse laughs as they straggled over to the basin for
a breakfast of fish or clams. Epicurean old rogues
these crows are, enjoying the dainty “‘clam’’ as much
as any unfeathered biped does.

As I approached by way of Three Mile House, a
hawk sailing high overhead arrested my attention by
the extent and curvature of its wings, and also by its
loud and peculiar cry, which may be syllabled as peetle-
chu, peetle-chu. It was a fish-hawk, or American osprey,
a species which is very common in the United States,
and also breeds sparingly on the coasts and lakes of
Nova Scotia.

Up in the fir-woods I disturbed several American
robins, an attractive bird and easily identified by its
ruddy under parts; their note was a low inward chuck
orchack. I also observed a raven (Coryus covax principalis)
near here flying over the road ; this form is almost iden-
tical with our European species, and is quite common in

NATURE IN -ACADIE. 23

‘Nova Scotia and also ‘in -other parts of Northern North
America.

In passing I may mention that the great loon, or great
northern diver, and also the red-throated diver breed
not uncommonly on the Nova Scotian lakes, even within
some few miles of Halifax. Both of these species are
for the most part only summer visitors north of the
United States, and I do not think they can be met with
in Nova Scotia during the winter months.

The little pied-billed grebe, a bird belonging to a
closely-allied group, is worthy of note as being the
American representative of the familiar little grebe (Podi-
cipes fluviatilis) of England. The American bird is just
as widely distributed and abundant, while its habits are
also very similar.

The great blue heron of North America bears no
small resemblance to the common heron of Europe, to
which it is in fact very closely related. It is a common
and well-known species in the States, being as charac-
teristic a bird there as our species is in England, although
naturally not being met with in protected heronries as
in the latter country. One morning, a few weeks pre-
viously, one of these herons—or “blue cranes,” as they
are popularly called—dropped down on a piece of marshy
ground close to Halifax and not far from where I was
living. But its temerity in venturing so near to the
habitations of man cost it dearly, for it was soon
observed and shot.

During a ramble in the woods around Melville Island
on November 1, I observed several juncos, or black
snowbirds, and some small parties of golden-crowned
kinglets and chickadees. This last is a typical Parus,
and has the crown, nape and throat black ; sides of the
head and neck white; mantle brownish-olive; wing
and. tail-feathers edged with white; and the under
parts with a yellowish-buff tint, except the centre of
the abdomen, which is white.

I also observed a single white-throated sparrow which
crept away among the underwood uttering a slight
chirp. -This large and handsome sparrow has the head

24 NATURE IN ACADIE.

marked with a stripe of pure white in the centre of the
crown, bordered on each side by a stripe of black, these
again being succeeded by another line of pure white
above the eye, with a yellow spot just in front of the
latter; on the throat is a patch of silvery white from
which the bird derives its name.

There were several crows about the woods, and I
also came across a small party of American robins
feeding on the ground in the woods. On being dis-
turbed they flew up uttering a low chuck and settled on
the bare limbs of the neighbouring trees, where they
appeared to be reconnoitring; their call-note was a
shrill whistle. The alarm note and the habit of flying
up on to a bare branch reminded me very strongly of
our redwing (Turdus iliacus), but systematists say that
its nearest old world relative is the blackbird (T. mevulus),
and they have accordingly placed it in the sub-genus
Mervula, of which the latter species is the type.

The ‘migratory thrush,” as it is also sometimes
called, is a handsome species, and one of America’s most
typical birds. It leaves Nova Scotia about the end of
October or the first week in November, moving south-
ward to its winter quarters, and returning to the
province again during the first week of April.

By the roadside I observed a fine specimen of the
red admiral butterfly (Pyvameis atalanta) ; it settled upon
stones with the wings expanded and was extremely
swift in its flight. The American form of this insect
is, I believe, regarded as racially distinct from the
European, but the ordinary observer would certainly
fail to detect any difference, either in appearance or
habits. There is also a ‘“ white admiral” found some-
what commonly in Nova Scotia; it rather resembles
the European variety, and I have seen it labelled as
such in provincial collections, I believe, however, the
species is designated Limenitis arthemis.

I visited the same woods again on November 12, and
was fortunate in meeting with one or two Hudsonian
chickadees in company with the golden-crowned king-
lets. This chickadee is not nearly so common in the

NATURE IN ACADIE. 25

province as the black-capped species, from which it
may be easily distinguished by its having the crown
and nape warm brown instead of black, and the sides
of the abdomen also warm brown, instead of pale buff,
as in P. atvicapillus. The name of this bird indicates
its principal breeding range, and 1 do not know that
it breeds in Nova Scotia, although it certainly does on
Grand Manan Island, New Brunswick.

26

CHAPTER VI.

OVEMBER 14.—I visited, for the first
time, the great woods rising from the
western side of the Bedford Basin, and
running back with but little interruption
right into the heart of the province.
I left the Bedford road, which skirts the
shore of the Basin, at a ‘distance of some
o four miles from Halifax, and taking a
narrow forest track, leaving the road at right angles, I
ascended gradually until the great misty expanse of
water lay far below me. Looking to the northward I
could just discern the little town of Bedford, nestling in
the valley where the river died away in the waters of
the restless Basin; while out to the eastward I looked
right over the harbour to the dim stretch of placid ocean
beyond, glittering like burnished gold beneath the rays of
the afternoon sun, and with many ships dotting the hazy
horizon in the far distance. But I moved on again and
soon passed the brow of the hill, andthe fair vision faded
behind the sombre stretch of forest.

The greater part of the timber here consists of spruce
and hemlock, although other descriptions are interspersed
in many places. In some spots the trees rise tall
and slender to a considerable height from a swampy
bottom covered with a dense growth of moss without a
blade of grass visible, while in all directions lie limbs or
trunks of trees in every stage of decay—some of them,

NATURE IN ACADIE. 27

although looking sound enough to the eye, being so
decayed that in treading upon them one’s foot frequently
plunges into the heart. Very few birds were to be seen
here; a crow at intervals sailed over, uttering hoarse
croaks, and I also saw a red-shouldered hawk passing
overhead with its somewhat irregular flight.

_ A little further on I came to a level bottom crowded
with swamp-bushes, so tangled and dense that it would
have been hopeless to try to force a passage through
them if one left the cleared track. From its consider-
able extent and flatness, as well as from the fact that
the trees ceased abruptly about midway down the
shelving sides on either hand, I was convinced that a
shallow winding lake had once existed here, and at no
very distant time either, as was evinced by the spongy
nature of the marsh or bog from which the mal-formed
bushes sprang. Indeed through it still crept a sluggish
stream, the waters of which were the colour of brandy
from the masses of decaying leaves in its bed.

Beyond this again I came upon a high and dry spruce-
wood of astonishing density, the trees being crowded so
together as to make it appear almost like the dusk of
evening while I was in the wood. The sombre drooping
branches of the spruce fir remind one of the plumes
upon a hearse more than anything else, while their
density almost effectually bars out the light of day,
especially if the day should be a cloudy one. The
ground beneath was covered with spruce-needles, with
great boulders of granite protruding here and there and
never a blade of grass visible. The stillness here was
intense and almost oppressive, and was broken only
now and again by the twittering of the small birds
which occasionally came and settled in the trees, among
. them being a few black-capped and Htidsonian chicka-

dees, and some numbers of golden-crowned kinglets. But

I came across no larger birds and not even any animals,

if I.except a single red squirrel, which coughed and

spluttered angrily at me ds I approached its lurking-
place in some low brushwood. Those who were not
‘acquainted with this fearless little squirrel, would be

28 NATURE IN ACADIE.

very properly disconcerted on hearing the peculiar
‘whirring ” or “rattle”? emitted by it for the first time
while in these gloomy woods, for the sound commences
in close proximity to one and with startling suddenness,
giving rise, until the author of it is discovered, to un-
pleasant suggestions of ‘‘ catamounts” and other unde-
sirable acquaintances which one is still likely to meet
with in this region. The “catamount,” it should be
remarked, is the name by which the American wild-cat
is commonly known in the United States; it is not at
all rare in the forests of Nova Scotia, and individuals
are shot annually within ten miles of Halifax.

Leaving this somewhat gloomy region, I emerged
into a tract which consisted of smaller and more varied
growths of timber, and here I flushed a solitary ruffed
grouse, a bird belonging to the genus Bonasa,* and known
almost invariably throughout North America as the
** partridge.”

I met an Indian towards Bedford, who told me that
he had recently killed two moose in the woods beyond
that place. The elk, or moose,t as it is called here, is
still, happily, not uncommon throughout the greater part
of Nova Scotia, but is never met with at the present
time within twelve or fifteen miles of Halifax. In the
more secluded forest fastnesses it still holds its own,
in company with the ‘“ cariboo,” more familiar to most
people under its Old- World name of “ reindeer.”

This is particularly the case in the western portion of
the province, amid the great wilderness of mountain,
lake and forest, stretching from the South Mountains
bordering on the Bay of Fundy away to, and beyond,
Rosignol, the largest of the Nova Scotian lakes, secluded
and solitary, with its winding expanse of limpid, sun-
bathed waters, out of which rise clusters of miniature
islands sheer from its unruffled surface, upon which falls
the dark shadows of the spruce and firs, which have

* B. umbellus togata is the designation of the form inhabiting
Eastern Canada.
+ Cervus alces.

NATURE IN ACADIE. 29

stood guard for ages over the unbroken solitude of these
fairy islets. Now and again, through the forest, one
catches a glimpse of the barren but inexpressibly grand
masses of the eternal granite hills, with the army of grim
old firs and pines halting stubbornly half way up their
rugged sides; baffled for centuries, but still with that
hoary tempest-braving line presented to the foe.

The moose and the cariboo have from time imme-
morial shared this undisturbed wilderness with their
sometime enemy, the Mic-Mac, who still makes this spot
the scene of his hunting operations. Here, too, the bear,
the beaver, the racoon and the porcupine are still found,
while the American goshawk and the great white-headed
eagle retreat into these fastnesses with the spoils of the
chase, and here raise their broods secure from the gun
of the farmer or the enterprise of the roaming egg-
collector.

All along the coast stretching away to the south-
westward of Halifax harbour, the great white-headed or
“bald” eagle carries on his depredations. He is not
quite such a “royal” bird as many writers have made
him appear, unless indeed kingliness is not to be distin-
guishable from despotism. The white-headed eagle is at
all times something of a despot. I think the favourite
articles of his diet are fish and carrion, hence his
partiality for the bays and estuaries of this wild and
rocky coast. In connection with his liking for fish,
Alexander Wilson's description of the bald eagle’s spolia-
tion of the osprey may occur to some. But he is also
a great enemy to the poultry of the farmer, and has been
often known to destroy young lambs, while he at all
times commits great slaughter among the defenceless
water-fowl, such as wild geese, ducks, the various
species of gulls and other seabirds.

30

CHAPTER’ VII.

ECEMBER 6.—I received three fine female
birds of the American goshawk, which had
been trapped at-Beaver Bank, a place
some distance north of Halifax, where
they had been making great havoc amongst
the “rabbits.” In fact, when skinning
these individuals, I found that one had its

crop crammed with the flesh of the animal mentioned,

but the crops of the other two were nearly empty.

These birds appear to pass southward about this time

from their more northerly breeding limits, judging from

the frequency with which they are to be met with in the
province at this season.

This large and symmetrical hawk is one of. the
commonest of the larger birds of prey in Nova Scotia
during the latter part of the year and again in the early
spring, and it also breeds in many parts of the province,
but I am not sure whether it is to be found there
throughout the entire winter or not.

Years ago, within the memory of Mr. Downs, this
fine species bred near Three Mile House, in the im-
mediate vicinity of Halifax, but at the present day it
is not found breeding within, perhaps, twelve or four-
teen miles of the city. In the great undisturbed tracts
of forest, however, particularly in the western portion of
the province, it breeds somewhat commonly. I have
examined several nests and eggs which were taken in

NATURE IN ACADIE, 31

the region of the Blue Mountains and Gasperaux Lake,
and in other places. The nest is usually built ina giant
hemlock about the latter part of April or early in May;
it is a large structure, and composed of sticks, weeds,
&c., lined with strips of bark and grdss. The eggs are
two or three in number, and in colour bluish-white,
frequently unmarked, but sometimes faintly spotted
with yellowish-brown. In size they measure about 2°3
inches by 1°8 inches.

Although not uncommon to the northward of the
United States, this fine hawk seldom occurs within the
limits of the latter, except as a winter visitor, and owing
to its northerly range and inaccessible haunts, not a
great deal is yet known concerning it.

The three birds previously mentioned were quite
adult, and measured fully twenty-three inches in length
by about three feet eight inches across the extended
wings. The male bird, however, is considerably smaller.
This species differs chiefly from the European goshawk
(A. palumbarius) in having the upper part of the head
deep black, with a partly-concealed patch of white on
the nape, and the feathers of the entire lower parts of
the body marked transversely with many fine zig-zag
dusky lines, each feather also having a fine black
central streak. The European goshawk, on the other
hand, has the under parts thickly and distinctly barred
with ash-brown. The immature bird in the American
species, as in. the European, has the plumage of the
lower parts boldly marked in a longitudinal direction.

I also found the strikingly-marked harlequin duck to
be fairly common in the province about the same date,
and J saw many of these birds brought in during the
early part of December.

Some black guillemots were also brought in. By this
season of the year the deep black summer plumage of
the adult had changed somewhat, the crown being
white marked with black, the mantle barred with black
and white, and the lower back and under parts of the
body almost white. This species breeds commonly on
the coasts of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick (notably

32 NATURE IN ACADIE.

on Grand Manan and other islandsin the Bay of Fundy)
and from thence northward to Greenland. It retires
southward in winter, as far as Massachusetts, but
appears to remain on some parts of the Nova Scotian
coasts throughout the winter.

Up to December 15 the weather was generally
fine and very mild indeed, except for sharp frosts at
night during the previous week, but on the night of
this day snow fell, and lay about two inches deep in
the morning, although it disappeared during the day
in consequence of the temperature changing and rain
falling rather heavily.

On the arst I noticed that the “‘ rabbits’ were nearly
white ; it is curious how quickly after the first fall of
snow they seem to assume their winter dress.

Owls appear to be common in Nova Scotia about
this time of the year. On this day I noticed about
the town, and in the taxidermists’ shops, both dead
and living specimens of the great horned, snowy,
and barred owls, all which had been taken in the
province. I also saw a fine stuffed specimen of the
great grey, or cinereous wood owl, a huge species,
exceeding in size both the great horned and snowy
owls, and even its near relative, the great Lapp owl
of Northern Europe. In common with almost all
Arctic birds, it is somewhat soberly attired, the plum-
age being mottled and barred with white, brown and
grey. This individual had no doubt been taken within
the limits of Nova Scotia, as the species even occurs
within the boundary of the United States during the
winter. The summer home of this great owl is in
Arctic America. Dr. Richardson met with it commonly
on the borders of Great Bear Lake, and records that it
keeps constantly in the woods, hunting hares and other
smaller quadrupeds.

On the 27th I revisited the woods in the neighbour-
hood of Melville Island. There were not many birds
about, but I observed some few brown creepers, which
little bird remains in Nova Scotia throughout the
year, as its Old World brother does in England,

NATURE IN ACADIE. 33
although I have no doubt that part of the birds to be
met with during the winter have migrated from more
northern breeding haunts, as is also the case in the
British Islands, where immigrants from the continent
swell the number of our native birds in the winter.

The handsome and well-known blue jay seems to be
less common than formerly in the neighbourhood of
Halifax. Once or twice only have I heard the some-
what harsh squall of this bird in the woods around
Halifax, although I have heard of as many as six or
eight having been seen at one time within two or three
miles of the city.

The blue jay is certainly one of the most beautiful
and entertaining of the commoner American birds, al-
though at the same time one of the most wary, possess-
ing in fact many of the characteristics of our European
species. The present bird is rather smaller than the
latter, and has the head handsomely crested with loose
silky feathers; the upper parts of the body of a fine
blue colour, deepest on the wing and tail-feathers, which
are barred with black and tipped with white; the neck
is encircled with a black collar, and the throat is
whitish, tinged with blue.

According to some writers the blue jay is an expert
mimic, but for my own part I prefer to believe that the
mimicry exists more in the imagination of the said
writers than in actual reality. Indeed, I would almost
venture to say the same of all the other birds which
are so commonly said to mimic the songs and notes of
other birds and animals. I will not, however, express
an opinion upon the mocking-bird’s talents, as I have
not yet heard the song of that bird in a state of nature.
But I can distinctly assert that not a single one of our
British birds is guilty—in its natural state—of consciously
imitating any part of the note or song of another
species. Perhaps the sedge-warbler, among our native
birds, has most frequently had these powers of mimicry
attributed to it, but, although as familiar with the song
of this bird as with the chirpings of the sparrow in our
streets, I can positively assert that I never yet heard it

3

34 NATURE IN ACADIE.

utter a note that had more than a slight resemblance
to that of another songster, and I am therefore per-
sistently incredulous with those who detect in its song
the borrowed notes of other birds, inasmuch as I
maintain. that such resemblance is more accidental
than real.

There is another species of jay found in Nova Scotia,
but much less frequently than the last-mentioned. It
is the Canada jay—also known as the “ moose-bird,”
‘“‘whisky-John,” &c. This jay is a resident species, but
is apparently not at all common in the greater part of
the province, and certainly not so in the neighbourhood
of Halifax. The bird is about the size of the blue jay,
but of much more sober plumage, having the upper
parts of a leaden-grey tint—with the exception of the
crown, which is blackish—and the under parts dirty
white, the tail being long, cuneate, and tipped with dull
white. The whole plumage is long, soft, and loose, and
no doubt forms an ample protection against the severity
of the Canadian winter.

35

CHAPTER VIII

ANUARY 2.—Overhead the dim blue of
®% a cloudless sky, with pale stars fading
from the dawn, and the great fiery
sun peeping over the hills, while every
tree and post upon the wayside loomed
weirdly through the hurrying mist. Be-
neath my foot the snow crunched sharply,
every crystal sparkling with many colours in the first
struggling rays of the rising sun.

Soon the mist rolled in great banks across the fields
and filled alone the hollows, and out of these came
an early crow or two, flapping leisurely along with
an occasional querulous cry, and head turning from
side to side continually on the look-out for plunder.

As I neared the North-West Arm, a solitary sleigh
glided past me, the horse’s trot falling softly upon
the snow to the pleasing accompaniment of the tinkling
bells. Crossing the head of the Arm, I turned to
the south-east, ascending the road to the hangin
forest of hemlocks above, standing out darkly through
a faint enveloping mist, tinted with a soft light by
the morning sun.

Presently I left the road and plunged into the solitude
of the fragrant pines and hemlocks, stepping over the
virgin snow that lay, crisp and glistening, fully five
inches in depth upon the ground. There were a few
wary old crows about these partially cleared outskirts
of the forest, calling to one another from the tree-tops

36 NATURE IN ACADIE.

with a loud imperious note, much like that of their
Old World cousins. They appeared to be at least as
wary as the latter, and it is difficult to shoot one of
them, while residents in this part will seriously assure
you that it brings ‘‘ bad luck” to kill one of these birds.

Among the pines here, I met with a pair of red-
breasted nuthatches, a bird which has much of the
habits and appearance of our familiar species. I
noticed that these birds crept about upon the lesser
limbs of the pines, usually the higher ones, and I did
not hear them utter any kind of note. Like other
small birds at this season, they traversed the woods
from one tree to another, with but little stay upon
each, and I soon lost sight of them. Now and again
I observed a few crossbills or grosbeaks (I could not
be certain which) at work upon the cones in the sum-
mits of the taller trees. I also heard the sibilous note -
of the brown creeper, and detected a pair of these
little birds creeping up the trunk of a small fir.

In spite of the cold I noticed some few of the small
red squirrels about soon after entering the forest.
Unless alarmed they were quite fearless, and would call
one another from the branches close to me with a
curious little cough or bark, also squeaking and chatter-
ing :—

B ‘¢ Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo,

In and out among the branches,
Coughed and chattered from the oak tree.”

On the whole, however, very little life was to be
observed about the woods during this long ramble,
sometimes through great tracts of forest with nothing
but the crunching of the snow under foot to break the
strange stillness, or across densely-wooded bottoms
strewn with great granite boulders now covered with
four or five inches of snow, but beneath this green with
the luxuriant growth of moss, while after a time I
gained the higher land, open and scrub-covered for the
most part, but with many little hollows filled with a
dense growth of young hemlocks and firs dim with the
faint mist of a January day, clothed with long tufts of

NATURE IN ACADIE. 37

tree moss and decked with white and green lichens,
recalling forcibly to the mind Longfellow’s beautiful
lines :—

** The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.”

To me there is nothing wearisome in these woods.
I am, indeed, far more lonely and depressed among the
habitations of man and the bustle of his selfish avoca-
tions than in the most secluded forest, for in these great
wilds the spirit of Thoreau and of many another brother
in Nature, rises up to bear one company, filling the mind
with an absorption and obliviousness to care that I have
tried in vain to attain to within the sordid limits of my
chamber. And then the birds and beasts that one
follows on unweariedly into their most sacred retreats,
as they move restlessly through the forest, intent
upon their own pursuits and careless of your stealthy
approach and engrossed, untiring observation ; squirrel
and crow, nuthatch and tree creeper, all alike oblivious
of your silent intrusion and even your very existence,
while they gambol, and court, and feed, each in its
unconcerned way, until the tyrant—biped or quadruped
—puts an end to their harmony, and often also their
existence.

How puerile and foolish it seems to presuppose that
aught of real beauty or peace exists beneath the pleasant
sunshine, the sombre undulating forest, and the virgin-
white robe that Nature wears to-day! Always amid
this semblance of peace and gentleness, and these timid
birds and animals, or the insects of the past summer,
lurk the ever-recurring agony and the violent death.
How vain, indeed, it is to think of peace, in a system
whose harmony and balance rest solely upon Utility—
the Survival of the Fittest !

38

CHAPTER Ix.

N January 171 visited again the woods
around Melville Island, but saw very
few birds beyond several “‘ partridges”’
and chickadees—or black-capped tit-
mice—and also the ever-present crow.

On the 24th I observed snow-bunt-
ings for the first time near Halifax.

No doubt the recent great snowfall
and severe cold had driven them southward, as they
usually make their appearance in these latitudes after
the first severe snowstorm. Nothing can exceed in
interest the sight of a straggling party of ‘snow-
flakes” drifting across the snow-covered fields, or some-
times flying close over the road with their wavering
flight and feeble twittering notes.

I observed some small parties of golden - crowned
kinglets in the woods again on January 30, and since
I had failed to detect any of these birds during the pre-
vious six or seven weeks, I had good reason to conclude
that they had moved further to the southward during
that period, to escape the severe weather.

Up to February 16 small flocks of snow-buntings
were still about the fields in the vicinity of the town,
picking up a precarious livelihood from the dung-heaps
and refuse of all kinds, also paying great attention to
the seeds contained in the crowns of the few withered
plants which projected above the uniform stretch of
snow in the fields and along the ditches.

NATURE IN ACADIE. 39

The sight of these little fugitives from the rigours
of a Polar winter provides mental pabulum for many
strange reflections, and so one finds oneself thinking why
these small frail creatures—to whom most would deny
the possession of reasons-why and how they should
travel southward so unerringly to these less ice-bound
climes; and why—still less explicable—they should
return as unerringly to those same Polar regions when
the fitful Arctic summer sets in—nay, even before, for
they depart from their temporary refuge long before the
advance of genial spring.

Years ago such questions as these were left unargued,
and were, indeed, unanswerable, but now we have learnt
somewhat of Nature’s secrets, and can reason back to
the time when a warmer climate reigned over the far
north, and the birds were stationary, as are those of
more temperate latitudes at the present day. Then, as
the great winter, or ice age, set in, one can picture the
whole animal life of this great area being forced gradu-
ally southward with the extension of the cold region,
while in the brief spaces of the Arctic summer this
southward movement would naturally cease for a time ;
the frost-bound trees would perhaps struggle forth into
leaf again; the dormant insects would again appear ;
while the birds, by reason of their powers of flight,
would even venture to return somewhat towards their
former breeding haunts. This may be only hypothesis,
but it seems to clear away much of the shadow of the
inexplicable surrounding the question of migration.

A few northern shrikes or “ butcher-birds” came
under my notice during the month of February, and one
day a bird of this species was actually to be seen in one
of the principal streets of Halifax, to the no small
terror of the over-confident alien sparrows, one at least
of which it pursued and captured. This bird is closely
allied to the grey shrikes of Europe, and possesses
similar habits, including that of impaling its prey upon
thorns.

There were also in the vicinity of the town at this
season a somewhat unusual number of ‘‘saw-whet ” or

40 NATURE IN ACADIE.

Acadian owls. This owl, the smallest in Eastern North
America, is quite a common species in the province of
Nova Scotia, particularly at the present season.

By the 28th the snow-buntings had all disappeared,
the weather being milder, andon this day I observed the
black snowbird again in the woods by the North-West
Arm. I also noticed a flock of shore larks—‘ horned”
larks in New-World phraseology—circling over the
fields; they flew in a very compact troop, and appeared
to number quite one hundred. Crows, I noticed, were
already in pairs, although not nesting here until the
latter part of April.

March 13 brought very little change in the weather,
the snow still lying ten or twelve inches deep in the
woods, while the only birds I took notice of during a
brief ramble were a few chickadees, one of which I dis-
turbed as it was busily engaged at a bunch of pine-cones
which had lodged ina bush. I observed, however, that
the squirrels had already commenced to prepare their
spring nests in the fir-trees.

On the 26th, also, the weather was unaltered—
although not particularly cold—the snow still lying un-
diminished in the woods.

41

CHAPTER X.

HE first of April opened the month well,
but the succeeding day was even finer and
warmer, and in consequence the snow had
already quite vanished in the fields, and
was rapidly diminishing in the more open
parts of the woods. Indeed, in sunny
little glades, where the snow had all
melted, I several times startled hybernated

individuals of the Camberwell beauty butterfly (Vanessa

antiopa), aninsect which is very commonly distributed in

Nova Scotia. They almost invariably settled upon the

ground, with wings outspread to catch the full warmth

of the sun’s rays, starting up suddenly upon one’s
approach and flying off with extreme swiftness.

I disturbed several chickadees from an old decayed
stump of a tree, about ten or twelve feet in height,
in which I found they had commenced several holes,
probably with the intention of forming nesting cavities.
Some numbers of crows are always to be found in the
morning in the woods upon the North-West Arm,
along the shore of which the ground beneath most of
the trees is strewn with clam-shells, proving the extent
to which this favourite bivalve enters into the ‘bill of
fare” of these omnivorous birds.

In several parts of the forest I found a few fox sparrows
—a large and handsome sparrow, the largest in North
America, and noticeable from its ruddy tail-coverts and
tail, and the bold blotches or markings upon its breast

42 NATURE IN ACADIE.

and flanks. I met with the first party of four or five
of these interesting birds among the rocky woods near
Melville Island, and followed them back into the woods
‘for some distance, while during the remainder of my
ramble I several times came upon a few of these birds—
always in the most secluded and dense woods of fir and
hemlock, and generally in a spot where rocks or boulders
appeared. Although of such shy and retiring habits,
they seemed rather unsuspicious, and allowed a some-
what near approach unless alarmed. I often saw one
upon the moss-covered boulders, apparently seeking for
insects or their pupew, while I sometimes approached
quite close to them when perched in the trees, and I
noticed that they always settled low down on a dead
branch or bough, against the trunk, where they sat
so motionless that they might be easily passed un-
noticed. The only note I heard these birds utter, and
one which seemed common to both sexes, was a low
and somewhat plaintive whistle. ‘

In the fields nearer the town I several times noticed
the familiar chipping sparrow. This sober little bird
usually sang from the topmost spray of a bush, the
song being a weak, but not unpleasing, little trill.

The following day (April 3) was cloudy in the morn-
ing, but cleared up before noon, and was very fine
and warm the rest of the day. I walked over to the
Bedford Basin in the morning, and from thence round
to the North-West Arm, the walk being thoroughly
enjoyable, although not much of interest was to be
observed on the way. In the woods by Melville Island
I came across some newly arrived “ robins’”’ or migra-
tory thrushes, and also observed a pair of the prettily-
marked pine-creeping warblers upon the trunk of a
huge pine, while in the trees and bushes close by were
a few ‘‘ yellow-rumped ” or myrtle warblers, this species
being about the earliest to arrive of the many warblers
which visit the province. They mostly frequented the
bushes or small trees, and often uttered a simple,
pleasing warble.

I heard a chickadee here uttering a note or song

NATURE IN ACADIE. 43

almost identical with that of our great titmouse; it
consisted of the three notes only, however, there being
no quick repetition of them as in our bird.

Just before dusk I noticed fourteen geese—probably
Canada geese—flying over the town from west to east
at a considerable height, and apparently following the
coast line. My attention was drawn to them by their
occasionally-uttered cry, a deep honk, honk, and they
were then flying in straight single file of twelve, with
two on one side abreast, but soon afterwards they
opened out at this side into an irregular V-shape.

It was on this night, also, that I witnessed a beauti-
ful aurora to the northward. It lasted several hours,
during which period the faint shifting rays of light
illumined the whole sky to the north and north-east,
producing at one time a most striking and beautiful
effect.

The morning of the 15th opened very dull and cloudy,
and there was not a breath of wind to be felt, while
there seemed to be a promise of snow later in the day.
I left home soon after daybreak, and after two or three
miles’ walk struck the woods near Three Mile House,
on the Bedford Basin, from whence I passed through
continuous dense woods in a north-westerly direction
all the morning.

Soon after entering the woods I came upon a party
of golden-crowned kinglets in a dense undergrowth of
young firs, and except for these there was hardly a bird
to be found in this part of the forest. Some of the firs
here were of a prodigious size, and near the summit of
one J noticed what appeared to be an unfinished nest of
a hawk or crow.

A little farther on I came toa small sluggish stream
flowing through a swampy hollow. The brandy-
coloured water was fringed upon either side with
curiously-contorted swamp bushes, while here and
there a fallen trunk bridged the stream; but I had
learnt by experience not to trust these seeming bridges,
for although looking sound enough to the eye, they are
usually mere shells from which the heart has long since

44 NATURE IN ACADIE.

rotted away. I noticed, as an odd circumstance, that
for some distance this little stream formed an abrupt
boundary between two totally different descriptions of
woodland, for while upon one side the woods consisted
of (at this season) bare and leafless birch and similar
trees, on the other side of the stream rose dense and
funeral-looking spruce woods. I heard a woodpecker
tapping here, and followed it a short distance, but could
not obtain a view of it. I also noticed a white-breasted
nuthatch among the firs, as well as several chickadees
and brown creepers.

Leaving the stream I then struck through the forest
until I came upon a long ravine in the dense woods,
with sloping sides and an almost level bottom, which
was sparingly timbered, and with a sluggish stream
winding along it, and on which the snow still lay thickly,
as it also did in many spots in the surrounding woods.
I saw here a large nest of the American crow, fully
sixty feet up in the fork of a large and almost limbless
maple, but I did not attempt to ascend to it. Crossing
the ravine J pushed on again through very thick woods,
varied occasionally by higher and more open rocky
ground covered mostly with scrubby brushwood, but
saw nothing more, and so retraced my steps and struck
a track leading back to the Bedford Basin. Just here
the trees were chiefly hemlocks, and veritable giants of
the forest they were, many of them being fully four feet
in diameter near the ground and towering toan immense
height.

While passing down this track the snow commenced
to fall gently, adding to the lonely and desolate nature
of the forest. I noticed many old burrows of the
woodpecker in the summits of the bare and whitening
trunks that met the eye on every side, but saw very
few birds of any kind until I came to a low swampy
fir wood, in the midst of which was a shallow pond
where the frogs were croaking dismally. Here a large
barred owl flew close past me with its peculiarly light
and noiseless flight, and settled upon a dead tree a
short distance behind. The habit of flying in the

NATURE IN ACADIE. 45

daytime in this species is well known; it was shortly
after noon when I saw the present individual, and snow
was falling rather fast at the time. I judged it to be
a male, the female being considerably larger in size,
and in fact almost rivalling the great horned, or
American eagle-owl.

Continuing on my way I disturbed a pine grosbeak
from the ground at the foot of a fir-tree; this is a very
handsome scarlet-tinted bird and is by no means
unknown in the province at certain seasons, although
breeding farther north. Pushing on again, the great
foggy expanse of Bedford Basin soon came into view
below me, and before long I reached the road which
winds round by the water’s edge, and started homeward,
well satisfied with my day’s ramble.

On the following day I came across a solitary pair of
fox sparrows in a rocky and elevated spot by Melville
Island. These were evidently very late stragglers, as
the majority must have departed to the northward ten
days before, this sparrow breeding farther north, in
Newfoundland and Labrador. ;

At about 11 a.m. on the 25th I was in the woods
near Three Mile House when my attention was attracted
by a great outcry among a party of perhaps a hundred
crows wheeling over the tree-tops at a short distance.
I soon perceived that they were vigorously mobbing
a large barred owl which was sailing leisurely along in
the direction of the Bedford Basin, the crows closely
surrounding the stranger, and darting down so close
as almost to touch it, uttering all the while loud and
incessant outcries. The owl seemed but little con-
cerned by their attacks, however, only occasionally
uttering a low harsh scream or growl, while it sailed on
straight ahead, soon leaving the majority of its per-
secutors behind and being only pursued by four or five
of the crows, which followed it right over to the great
woods across the Basin. No doubt the excited resent-
ment of the stranger’s visit by the crows was largely
due to the fact that the latter were actively engaged in
nesting operations.

46 NATURE IN ACADIE.

It was late in the afternoon as I returned home-
ward through the woods near the lake at Three Mile
House, and quite a number of robins were singing in
the tree-tops at the outskirts of the woods. Their song
is loud and possessed of little variation, but still attrac-
tive; it is certainly inferior in mellowness and compass
of voice to that of the vocalist’s Old World cousin, the
blackbird. The song may be readily syllabled as gie-it-
up, gie-it-up, gie-tt-up, pilly, pilly, but it is strange what
an amount of rivalry and assertion it conveys, for the
birds will sing one against the other with a surprising
vehemence and vigour for an hour at a time.

In a shallow grass-grown pond which I passed before
leaving the woods the frogs were holding a merry con-
cert. Heard in the twilight, in the stillness of the forest,
there is something plaintive in their clear and shrill
peet, peet, uttered at first by one only and being every
time answered by another and another, until all join in
one swelling chorus—

** And anon a thousand whistles
Answered over all the fen-land.”

47

CHAPTER XI.

AR different to all our old-time conceptions
is the dawn of a New World May-day in
the solitudes of the primeval forest! No
groups of villagers, no merry dances, no
gaily-decked teams of horses—nothing but

the grey silence of day-break, and the all-

extending forest.

As I stand, the woods close in around with their
array of shadowy forms looming through the uncertain
light of dawn. A space further on a low boulder forms
a ready couch. Here the ghostly army of the forest
fades away, for below is the sea, now lying placid and
dumb, with a faint slow heave of its fair bosom, and a
mute, passionless appeal which draws one’s thoughts
out toit and steals them away seaward —over to that
Old World from which the face was so resolutely turned.

These are the moments of reverie, undisturbed by any
sound save the ripple of the tiny waterfall near at hand.
Here it is always water—little streamlets splashing
from every hillside and chasing one another down
among the hollows and shallows and the littered
granite; down, down, and away headlong to the sea—

“Run home, little streams,
With your lapfuls of stars and dreams ”—

singing, as they run, little intermittent snatches of
strange music; now like the faint, far tinkling of
silver bells, and again like the sedge-bird babbling by

48 NATURE IN ACADIE.

the brook in |far-away England. But it is not peace they
sing of, not simple contentedness, for into these reveries
comes a great, passionless unrest, born of thoughts of
a breadth and scope far too subtle for the mind to grasp,
as sweeping and as unabiding as the ocean that frets
away for ever upon the granite below, and as un-
trammelled by the narrow injustices and heart-searings
of the passionate world of man.

But a faint rare flush upsprings in the pale east,
deepening to a glow, ascending to the zenith, and over-
spreading until but a lone pale star twinkles low in the
west—a jewel glistening upon the train of flitting Night,
until up from across the sea peeps a great fiery disc
of dazzling gold, flashing forth the triumph of spring
over earth and sea and sky, and waking to busy life the
countless denizens of field and forest.

Already the feathered choir have been heralding the
coming of the great Life-giver, and the woods are astir
with song—the petulant whistling of the “robin,” the
chant of the water-thrush, and the many trillings of the
warblers, while along the shore the sable crow swells
the symphony with discordant music. But anon comes
another and a stranger song from the shady recesses of
the underwood—notes sweet-toned and changing, like
the babbling of a brook over stones, and with as sad and
stately an undercurrent. It is the song of the hermit
thrush—bird of the dark and gloomy forest, the secluded
swampy hollow, girt round with dense underwood and
crowded with tall breathless firs, staring up for ever
from out of an endless twilight—

‘* From deep secluded recesses,
From the fragrant cedars and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.”
* * * * *

The first of May seems to commence the spring in
Nova Scotia, judging by those sure guides, the birds:
and indeed the day was so delightfully fine that I felt
justified in honouring it as the first day of spring. The
trees, however, had scarcely commenced budding as
yet, although the snow had all vanished in the woods.

NATURE IN ACADIE. 49

Down by Melville Island I came across five or six
nearly completed nests of the American robin—none of
them, however, containing any eggs. One was placed
at the extremity of a branch high up in a pine, about
thirty feet from the ground, this being the greatest
altitude at which I ever saw the nest of this species.
Another was straddled on the thick horizontal bough of
a hemlock, at a height of not more than eight feet. A
third was cradled in the drooping branch of a hemlock,
and so low down that I could touch it with my hand;
while one was even placed in the fork of a bare silver
birch. Both in situation and appearance the nests
closely resembled a neat example of the European mistle
thrush’s nest.

The robin, or migratory thrush, is the first to com-
mence breeding among the smaller species of birds found
in the province, and as the period when it commences
nest-building corresponds exactly with that of the Old
World blackbird and mistle thrush, it may be readily
imagined how much later the spring commencesin Nova
Scotia, in spite of the fact that it is several degrees
farther to the southward than England.

In the same woods J disturbed a downy woodpecker
from a decayed fir some eight or ten inches in diameter.
It allowed a very near approach before revealing itself,
when it darted on to another stem a couple of yards away
and clung motionless to the bark, peering down at me
for a moment or two, and then flew silently away. I
found that two excavations had been commenced in the
tree the bird was disturbed from, both of them being
about twelve or fifteen feet from the ground, and being
scarcely larger than those made by our lesser spotted
woodpecker, but they did not penetrate more than a
couple of inches.

The downy woodpecker—sometimes inappropriately
called the lesser ‘‘ sap-sucker ’’—is a very small species,
in fact, the smallest in North America, being not more
than six inches in total length. It is noticeable from
its,black upper plumage and white lower parts, con-
trasting with its scarlet hind-head and crest. This

4

50 NATURE IN ACADIE.

little woodpecker has a curious habit of drumming con-
tinuously upon a resonant part of a decayed limb, pro-
bably with the object of calling the attention of its mate,
for when it ceases for a while an answering tapping may
be plainly heard proceeding from another direction.

On the morning of May 7 I observed the first
swallow in the neighbourhood of Halifax ; it was of the
species known as the white-bellied or tree-swallow, and
distinguished by the entirely white lower parts.

During a ramble in the woods by the Bedford Basin
I was much amused, while taking a brief rest upon a
fallen tree, by the actions of one of the little red squirrels,
which scampered along the ground around me, and
sometimes came close up under the cover of the brush-
wood, uttering its shrill and fairly startling rattle, and
coughing, spluttering and whining in a most ludicrous
manner, as if in a great rage at my intrusion upon its
retreat.

The troublesome “black fly” (Simulium molestum) a
dipterous insect allied to the gnats, makes its appearance
in unpleasant abundance at this season. It appears,
however, to be entirely confined to the more secluded
and damper parts of the woods.

In a rather open part of the forest I came upon a nest
of the ‘flying squirrel” (Ptevomys volucelia) in a young
pine at a height ofabout twelve feet. Both the squirrels
were at home, for on tapping the nest they left it and
made their way silently up to the branches above,
where they remained clinging mute and motionless to
the limb in such a manner as to almost escape notice,
owing to their resemblance to a patch of fungi, or other
foreign matter. Their habit, indeed, is to remain at
rest during the day, and to come forth only after sunset,
when they may sometimes be seen gliding swiftly
through the air from one tree to another. They are
very pretty little animals, about the size of the common
red squirrel, and of a light brownish, or rather drab
colour above and silvery white below, the fur being soft
and silky and very close. The animal is furnished
with an extensible fold of skin on either side, from limb

NATURE IN ACADIE. 51

to limb, which is stretched tight when the limbs are
extended in leaping through the air; the extension is
aided by one of the toes of the fore-paw being much
lengthened and inclined backward; the tail also is
broad and concave below.

The trailing arbutus, the exquisite little ‘‘ mayflower ”
—emblem of Acadie—is in full flower about this time
of the year, and sure enough during the day I found it
growing in great profusion along the side of a forest
track. The pretty little white flowers, half hidden
among the leaves, remind one somewhat of our white
violet, and it would be hard to decide which possesses
the sweetest scent. All the esteem in which the violet
is held by Old-world Nature-lovers is lavished upon the
little “‘ mayflower ” here—and in much the same way,
for each spring it is sought for diligently, torn from its
enfolding leaves and carried heartlessly away to droop
and die in a glass or vase in some forgotten corner.

But as with flowers so it is with birds. These beautiful
denizens of field and forest have no enemy more to fear
than civilized man, who is ever on the watch: to slaughter
—ever inventing fiendish appliances to capture and
cage them. Better, a hundred times better, were these
celestial pipers stretched stiff in death by some more
natural foe than doomed to pass their innocent lives
cooped up in small wired prisons far away from the
haunts of their delight, to sing their plaintive strains
day by day into the deaf ears of a heedless and uncaring
crowd. Strains of sorrow and upbraiding are they as
summer fades and the little prisoner longs for the clear
sweet air and his kindred’s society among the quiet
upland stubbles. Dreary songless days of winter, amid
slush and fog, and far from his native woods and
meadows, now covered deep with crisp sparkling snow,
every little coppice glistening with the fairy forms ofa
thousand enchanted palaces rising turret upon turret and
spire upon spire, desolate and silent in the stillness of
morning; until perchance the sable blackbird breaks
the spell as he darts out noisily, scattering a million
sparkling gems in his flight, and chasing away the fairy

52 NATURE IN ACADIE.

vision with his‘ hearty laughter. So spring comes, and
from his narrow cage the poor imprisoned songster
pours forth incessantly his tale of love to far-away ears
that hear not, straining his soft breast against the cruel
bars that alone separate him from life and liberty.
And so the spring passes, with its gladness of warmth
and sunshine, its busy birds, and insects, and flowers,
while the little captive ceases his song, and, perchance,
languishes gradually away, and before spring returns
Death has ransomed him from his troubles—his all-
powerful touch has burst the narrow prison and carried
away the frail remains to winnow in his mighty granary
and plant again in the garden of Life, who will water
them with living tears until the eteynal spring shall raise
them once more into some fair blossom that will go
forth afresh to scatter seeds of truth and beauty upon
the earth.

53

CHAPTER XII.

HE next day found me again in the woods
by Melville Island, and on inspecting the
robins’ nests I discovered that the birds
had commenced to lay, there being three
eggs in two of the nests, two in another,
and one having four. This last nest was
the neatest of them all, its situation being
the drooping branch of a small hemlock.

It was not so. bulky as the nest of our mistle thrush, but
similar in construction, the exterior being constructed
of small twigs and tassels of green tree-moss (Usnea),
while the lining was a neat cup of fine dry grasses; I
noticed also that the nest was secured to the branches
with a small quantity of moist loam, while there was
the usual intermediate wall of the same in the nest
itself. The eggs of the “robin” are unspotted, of a uni-
form and rather deep greenish-blue, measuring about
t'ro by ‘85 inches.

By May 13 the ruby-throated humming-bird had
already accomplished its wonderful journey to the
province, as I was shown one which had been sent from
Kentville on this date. I was informed that the pre-
vious spring one of these beautiful little creatures
visited the flower-box in one of the windows of the house
I was stopping at and was observed hovering there for
some minutes.

Fine weather on the 14th again took me to my old
haunts on the Melville Island inlet, and in the woods

54 NATURE IN ACADIE.

here I noticed some more nests of the “robin,” but
very few other birds seemed to be interested in nidifica-
tion as yet. Ina little open spot I came to a decayed
maple stump, about twelve feet high, near the top of
which a pair of ‘ flickers,” or golden-winged wood-
peckers, had been very busy excavating a suitable
burrow for nesting purposes. The cavity within was
large and roomy, being about ten or twelve inches deep,
although apparently not yet completed, while the whole
ground for yards around was littered with the chips and
dust in evidence of the arduous undertaking.

This habit of building has earned for the bird the
rather curious appellation of “‘ high-hole ” in some parts
of the United States. It is under this name that Whit-
man, a true naturalist (as every real poet needs must
be), mentions it :—

*¢Put in April and May, the hylas croaking in the ponds,
Bees, butterflies, the sparrow with its simple notes,
Blue-bird and darting swallow, nor forget the high-hole flash-
ing his golden wings.”

Near here I visited a nest of the flying-squirrel,
which I discovered a few days before in a hollow in a
small stump and only four or five feet from the ground ;
there were then three young squirrels, blind and naked,
and the female in the nest, but I found on re-visiting it
that the squirrel had removed her young from the nest,
no doubt to a safer hiding-place.

Passing from here by a slight track through some
rather open rocky ground, I startled a nighthawk from
the ground close to the path. Like its English cousin,
the nightjar, the bird harmonises well with its surround-
ings, and also crouches so still that it is never seen
until one’s close approach rouses it to flight. In
general habits, too, in flight and in nidification this
bird of the twilight is almost a counterpart of its Euro-
pean relative.

The next morning awoke me with the sounds of
spring—the little alien sparrows outside my window
quarrelling over the possession of some disputed nest-

NATURE IN ACADIE. 55

ing-place—and I arose to look upon a day of singular
glory, even for this land of clear skies and lovely
weather.

The great charioteer of light had already mounted
high in the cloudless heavens when I set out, and
everywhere I found the splendour and the fulness that
go to stamp such a day as this in indelible characters
upon the memory. Going down to Three Mile House
through fields just awaking to the influence of spring,
and laughing with the multitude of song, I saw many
birds. Some swallows flew above me, one the barn
swallow, much like that of England but differing in
the arrangement of its colours. In the fields were
many sparrows, for Nature has endowed the New
World with a multitude of these, while man has added
yet one species more—the ‘‘ house sparrow ’’—and that
one now more maligned than all the others put together.

Down in the valley the fields terminated in a wet
swamp, beyond which I came into some woodlands.
Here it was that a small speck I had been watching
resolved itself into a little hawk hovering in the air,
sometimes dropping down a little, then rising up with a
circling flight and again hanging quite stationary except
for the slight vibration of its wings, exactly after the
manner of our familiar kestrel or ‘‘windhover’—to
which, indeed, the American sparrow-hawk, as this
little falcon is termed, is closely akin. It is in habits
and appearance almost an exact counterpart of our
kestrel, although much smaller —in fact, scarcely ex-
ceeding the size of a thrush, the female (which is the
larger) being not more than eleven inches in length.
It preys largely upon field-mice, lizards, and various
insects, often also upon small birds. The immortal
Wilson mentions having taken from the crop of one of
these little hawks a considerable part of the carcase
(including the unbroken feet and claws) of an American
robin, although the latter is scarcely smaller than the
dashing little freebooter itself! The eggs are laid
within hollows and holes high up in the trunks of trees
or in the crevices of rocks and cliffs, but seldom is any

56 NATURE IN ACADIE.

nest constructed. Eggs that I have seen have been
quite diminutive, with a creamy or pinkish-white
ground marked boldly with reddish-brown and cinna-
mon colour, chiefly around the larger end, but they
vary much in appearance; the average size is given as
1°36 by 1°12 inches.

Passing through a little hollow near here my atten-
tion was attracted by a sudden outcry among the small
birds in the underwood, and next moment out darted
another of these little hawks in front of me, its bright
reddish lower-back being conspicuous as it flew away,
and proving it to be a male.

The warmth and splendour of the day seemed to
have aroused to life the whole insect creation, for in the
cleared spaces of the woodland grasshoppers stridulated
upon every hand, while flies—noxious and innoxious—
were everywhere. Across these little openings, too,
came every now and again small troops of a pretty little
Polyommatus, or ‘‘ blue” butterfly, dancing over the
ground like a “ will-o’-the-wisp,” and vanishing down
the openings of the woodland. A small Thecla, or
‘‘ hairstreak,” was also not uncommon here, flying close
to the ground, and from its small size and dark colour
being easily overlooked, especially among the small
scrub, like the heather of an English moor, with which
the ground was covered. Once, too, a still-surviving
‘‘ Camberwell beauty” scurried past me and hastened
away over woodland and swamp, while among the
underwood I now and again noticed small moths of
various kinds upon the wing. Emerging upon the lake
by Three Mile House I met with one of our common
white butterflies (Pieris yvape) and also saw another
shortly afterwards. This butterfly was introduced into
the United States about the year 1866, but I understand
that it was unknown in Nova Scotia for some years
after that date, nor does it appear to be very widely
distributed there at the present day.

On the 17th I visited again the woods running back
from the Bedford Basin, but, strange to say, although
the day was fine enough there was exceedingly little of

NATURE IN ACADIE. 57

interest to be met with. Indeed, spring appeared to be
a week or two behind in these great desolate forests as
compared with the fields and woodlands adjoining the
city. On the outskirts of the forest I noticed a few
white-throated sparrows, and also one or two golden-
crowned kinglets, while on reaching a little swift-
running brook I met with a single black-and-white
warbler, which attracted my attention by its pleasing little
song, which might be syllabled as chiv-vee, chiv-vee, re-
peated in quick succession. The bird itself frequented
the topmost branches of the trees, occasionally creeping
upon them or around the trunk in a similar manner to
the tree-creeper. As its name implies, this little war-
bler has the plumage prettily variegated with black and
white. This was indeed the only bird of interest met
with while in these woods, but in a dense little tract of
young firs I found a nest placed against one of the
stems at a Height of about eight feet, which most
probably belonged to the olive-backed thrush, a com-
mon enough bird in most parts of Nova Scotia. This
nest was shallow and loosely constructed of moss,
leaves, twigs, bark strips, &c., but it contained no eggs.

Fine weather again on the following day took me
along the St. Margaret’s Bay road, turning off to the
right from the head of the North-West Arm, and passing
by Chocolate Lake. It was as I neared the latter that
I first observed a pair of belted kingfishers, which were
circling round and round high above the lake uttering
a loud harsh rattling note, and altogether presenting
very little resemblance to our English species, which
they also considerably exceed in size. I never observed
a kingfisher in Nova Scotia during the winter, so that
it is evidently a summer visitor to the province. The
same may be said in regard to the golden-winged wood-
pecker, one of which I observed on a smaller lake
further from the road. My attention was attracted by
its loud note, and I soon perceived the bird clinging
against the extreme summit of a dead pine on the far
side of the lake, at regular intervals giving vent to a
sharp and very powerful call note, repeated several

58 NATURE IN ACADIE.

times in quick succession. It afterwards flew to another
tree, settling across a branch instead of on the trunk,
and again commencing its cry.

I came across several white-throated sparrows which
‘skulked persistently in the low scrubby growth covering
the more open parts of the granite hills, and only
announced their presence from time to time by a feeble
chirp, very seldom allowing one to obtain a view of
them. While wandering over this rocky ground my
attention was arrested by a continual tapping at a little
distance which I judged to be occasioned by a wood-
pecker at first, but soon found that it proceeded from a
little dead stump near at hand, and on making my way to
it out flew two chickadees one after the other from a small
aperture, there being a little cavity within the stump
which the birds had been busy excavating. The habit
of burrowing in this species is somewhat interesting, as
it shows a close affinity in nesting habits to our burrow-
ing marsh tit, although the bird itself appears to me to
be intermediate between our great tit and coal tit.

Another bird that I noticed here was the yellow-
rumped warbler, which drew my attention to itself by
its almost aggressive chant, uttered from the upper
branches of a little tree. This song, which was rather
loud and sharp, might be syllabled as chi-chi, chi-chi, cha,
reiterated with almost vehement persistence. It is a
very trim and active little bird, and not at all shy if
unalarmed.

In some of the more wooded tracts the little black-
throated yellow warbler is common about this time. It
is one of the prettiest of the North American “ warblers,”’
having the upper plumage of a yellowish-green hue,
with a very conspicuous lemon-yellow face and a
velvety-black throat and upper breast, with also bold
black streaks on the flanks. Added to its neat form and
tasteful colours it also possesses a pleasing little song,
but its ordinary note is a short chirp.

The ‘ white-bill,” or black snowbird, breeds com-
monly in Nova Scotia, but it was not until May 21 that I
succeeded in discovering a nest among the forest-covered

NATURE IN ACADIE. 59

hills which are always its favourite resort. This nest
was in a ragged bank on the roadside, and was placed
upon the upper surface of a projecting piece of rock,
being well concealed from view by the overhanging turf
above. It hada compact exterior wall of grass stalks
and fine roots, except at such portion of its circumfer-
ence as abutted against the bank behind, while within
was a neat and substantial cup of dry grass with a few
white horsehairs. I disturbed the female from the nest,
which contained four eggs, in appearance of a faint
greenish-white, sparingly marked with small specks of
reddish-brown and purplish, and with a ring of spots of
the same around the larger end.

One of these mornings going down to the North-
West Arm I noticed a tree-swallow busily preparing its
nest in a tree by the roadside, the site selected being a
small hole not more than eight feet from the ground.
The mate was meanwhile sitting quietly upon a
telegraph wire across the road, quite unalarmed,
although apparently eyeing me narrowly from its
perch as if in some doubt as to my intentions.

On the road here also I observed.one of America’s
most typical and familiar birds. This was the ‘oven-
bird,” a species which has much of the appearance of
an Accentoy, save that its rich golden crown readily
distinguishes it. This individual alighted in the road
near to me, uttering its loud ascending trill from the
ground, and when disturbed it merely flew up and
settled a little further along the road, recommencing
its remarkable chant.

In the wet woods by Chocolate Lake was a wren
(Troglodytes hiemalis), very much like our common
English species and having a remarkably similar song ;
also several red-eyed flycatchers, or vireos, birds of
curious appearance which frequented the upper branches
of trees, uttering from the sheltering foliage a singular
song, consisting of a few liquid notes incessantly
repeated; but it was hard to recognise in its song
the supposed resemblance to the whip-tom-helly of the
familiar old story.

60 NATURE IN ACADIE.

Happening one day, this same week, to spend an
hour or two on board a vessel moored alongside a quay
in the harbour, I amused myself for some time by
watching the marine life in the still, clear water around
the vessel. The whole surface of the water was teeming
with a small animal, appertaining to Medusa, which con-
sisted of an almost transparent whitish disc, less than
an inch in diameter, with two retractile filaments which
could be extended to the length of five or six inches, and
by the alternate extension and retraction of which the
animal moved through the water. I also noticed several
small whitish Meduse, and one pink one; these, I
observed, moved almost vertically (instead of horizon-
tally) and by regular expansions and contractions of the
disc. The wooden piles of the wharf indicated exactly
the tidal rise and fall at this part of the world; it was
then low water, and I assumed the fall to be about five.
feet—very different to the tremendous tidal wave which
sweeps up the Bay of Fundy, less than a hundred miles
away.

On these wooden piles, and above low-water mark,
were immense concretions of mussels, but of small size.
Below low-water mark the seaweeds grew in profusion,
and many forms of marine life could also be seen.
Anemones were abundant and of varying sizes, but all
were of whitish and brownish hues. Here and there
was a starfish, of the forms most common on our own
coasts, and deeper down there seemed to be corals or
sponges ; but there the vision failed, for the light died
upon the borders of the depth below and I could see no
more.

It was while watching the marvels of this little under-
world—so strangely quiet and secluded and so undis-
turbed by the busy turmoil on the wharf above—that I
perceived a long twisting and twining tentacle floating,
or rather creeping outward and upward from the forest
of seaweed at the side of one of the piles. It was fol-
lowed by another, and then I discerned the slimy,
flabby, whitish body of an octopus appear, but only
for a moment, as it soon slowly descended again. The

NATURE IN ACADIE. 61

visible tentacles of this individual must have been very
nearly two feet in length, so that it was by no means a
small one of its kind, and yet far different from the
fearful creatures, born of the imagination rather than
the reality, which are even now believed in, although
still receding from the light of a scientific age. Yet
may not such monsters still be lurking all unknown in
the gloomy depths of that inexhaustible treasure-house
of Nature, which is for ever yielding up its secrets bit
by bit, yet all reluctantly, to the curiosity of inquiring
man?

62

CHAPTER XIII.

MUST by no means omit to mention one
little hawk, which is to be found breeding
not so very uncommonly in some parts of
Nova Scotia during the spring. This is
the sharp-shinned hawk of Wilson —a
dashing and interesting little species, and
one, moreover, which appears to have less
traducers than others of its kindred. There

seems, indeed, little in its habits or mode of living, to
gain for it human enemies, its prey comprising for the
most part small birds, lizards, red squirrels, or the
larger kinds of insects. Its flight is more than usually
rapid and erratic; its whole mode of action, indeed,
being spirited and fierce.

As with other birds of prey, the female bird is the
larger in size, being about thirteen inches in total length,
while the male is nearly two inches less, and also differs
somewhat in plumage.

I have not myself found the nest of the sharp-shinned
hawk in Nova Scotia. The bird is described as pre-
ferring a cedar swamp for the purpose of nidification,
but pine trees are also undoubtedly made use of. The
nest is placed at a height varying from ten or fifteen, up
to forty feet or more from the ground. It resembles to
some extent the nest of our sparrow-hawk (Accipiter
nisus), being constructed of sticks, sometimes as much
as half an inch in diameter, and neatly lined with small
twigs, yet with no softer material than these for the eggs

NATURE IN ACADIE, 63

torest upon. These latter are laid during the latter
part of May in the United States, but perhaps a week
later in Nova Scotia. They are three, four, or five in
number, creamy or greyish white as to ground tint,
blotched and streaked with purplish-brown, cinnamon
and greyish, the average size of an egg being 1°48 by
11g inches. The bird, it is said, almost invariably
manifests great indignation when the nest is approached,
giving vent to loud cries, and yet always keeping at a
sufficiently safe distance from the intruder.

Wilson gave this species the somewhat curious name
it bears, on account of its having the ‘“‘edges of the
inside of the shins, below the knee, projecting like the
edge of a knife, hard and sharp.” ‘The tarsus is, of
course, intended, and the term ‘‘knee”’ refers to the
tarsal joint or ankle. It is strange, it may be remarked,
that such a careful and painstaking ornithologist as
Alexander Wilson should not have been free from the
popular ignorance which still discovers the tibia of a
bird in its tarsus, and fails to discern the true ‘‘ knee,”
although so very apparent to anyone who will take a
dead bird in his hand and make a very cursory examina-
tion of its external characteristics.

This lack of acquaintance with anatomy is most
lamentable. Few seem to realise to what an extent it
can dwarf and confine the mind. There are always to
be met many good and capable observers of a grade far
removed from the vulgar, yet whose mental vision and
reasoning powers are all awry through the want of just
a slight study of comparative anatomy. No man or
woman can indeed look upon the productions of Nature
with any degree of rational understanding unless he or
she possesses this slight acquaintance with comparative
anatomy, which alone permits the observer to see things
intellectually, instead of seeing them with a mere animal
vision.

64

CHAPTER XIV.

N May 28 I started by rail from
Halifax to Rimouski, a distance of
about 385 miles. The route lay
northward through Nova Scotia,
through Northern New Brunswick,
and also through a part of Quebec,
my destination being situated upon
the south shore of the Gulf of Si.

Lawrence, and being a point of call for the homeward-

bound liners from Montreal and Quebec.

The scenery for a great part of the distance consisted
of alternating forest, lake and river, with occasional
ranges of wooded hills, and here and there cabins or
fields, and sometimes a considerable settlement. The
woods were chiefly coniferous, with occasional tracts of
birch or other deodiferous trees. Lumbering was pro-
gressing in some parts, and once we passed a small
river, which was crowded with logs as far as the view
extended. The birds most commonly to be observed
were crows and American robins. Once I saw a large
blue heron reposing quietly among the straggling reeds
at the edge of a lake, and frequently small birds of
various species fled on either side into the forest.
Horrid, swampy woods were abundant, and here the
trees rose from several feet of pestiferous-looking water,..
filled in every direction with limbs and trunks of trees
in every stage of decay, while round about the swamp
undergrowth raised itself from the water.

NATURE IN ACADIE. 65

In some parts of Nova Scotia and in the adjoining
portion of New Brunswick, are very rich tracts of land
formed by the alluvial deposit of the streams, and ap-
parently at one time consisting of mud-flats more or
less under water. This formation extends over large
tracts of land around the head of the Bay of Fundy, and
also around the Petitcodiac, on which stands the town
of Moncton. Indeed around the great Basin of Minas,
are miles upon miles of mud-flats which would be dry
land if it were not for the mighty tidal wave of the Bay
of Fundy.

A little before daybreak the next morning we began
to enter the rocky region bordering the southern part of
the great desolate peninsula of Gaspé, situated in the
extreme east of the province of Quebec, and upon the
southern side of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Once we
were running for many miles alongside a rapid river,
upon the other side of which was a continuous range of
the heavily-wooded hills of Gaspé, this stream forming
a natural boundary to the vast wilderness beyond.

The morning was well advanced before the train
slowed down, and we alighted, stiff and weary, on the
station platform in the picturesque little French town
which was to mark the first stage of my journey. Ri-
mouski is thoroughly French, there being hardly a
resident of British extraction in the place. The town
boasts a handsome Roman Catholic church and other
buildings, including a large boys’ school or college, under
the management of the priesthood. I noticed, with
pleasure, that the youths had plenty of outdoor exercise
and sport together with military drill, and that in spite
of-the fact that to-day was Sunday. In an enclosure
adjoining an inn, also, several persons were enjoying a
game of croquet, while many onlookers stood around.
Indeed, the general brightness, cleanliness and prosperity
of this little town was apparent on every hand.

The beaches left bare by the receding tide were
covered with flocks of shore-birds, amongst which I
identified some parties of the white-rumped sandpiper
and the red-backed sandpiper, or American dunlin, but

5

66 NATURE IN ACADIE.

I could not make out the species of the majority of the
flocks. I also visited the woods in the vicinity of the
town but did not observe much of interest.

We left Rimouski in the small hours of the following
morning on board the s.s. “Circassian,” and during
the whole of that day we were ploughing the waters of
the mighty Gulf of St. Lawrence.

The morning of the last day in May broke to find us
still coasting the length of the vast island of Anticosti—
an unvarying range of hills of no great height, yet with
the snow still lying along their summits, to prove the
inhospitable and desolate nature of the island. By
and by all land faded away, and the gulf widened and
stretched away in a great inland sea reaching northward
to Newfoundland and the coast of Labrador, and south-
ward to Cape Breton and the shores of Nova Scotia.
During the day I observed a great number of little auks,
mostly in small parties, although now and again flights
of upwards of a hundred of these curious little birds rose
from the water and flew round the vessel. The only
other birds which came near were a solitary pair of
Brunnich’s guillemots: a more frequent species here
than the rather smaller common guillemot.

As evening came on the rays of the setting sun
glittered across the unruffled surface of the water and
played in a halo of glory around the rocky heads of St.
Pierre and Miquelon lying a few miles away to the
northward. Between glistened the white sails of one or
two fishing boats or small coasting vessels. These two
little islets, which dwindled momentarily and passed
gradually into the ruddy glow of the fairyland astern,
possess a peculiar interest. They are all that remain of
the once great North American possessions of France.

We passed Cape Race at five a.m. on June 1 and
were proceeding up the eastern coast of Newfoundland
all the morning. Here we passed a great number of
icebergs, as many as twenty being in sight at once;
nearly all of them, however, had heen driven in-shore,
the coast being dotted with them all along, but some
few were floating down southward somie miles from the

NATURE IN ACADIE, 67

coast, and these necessitated constant attention on the
part of those in charge of the vessel. The bergs were
of every imaginable form and size. One was roughly in
the form of a pyramid with the apex broken off, the
height from the water-line being nearly three times as
much as the breadth.

Most of the larger icebergs evidently consisted of
masses detached from the solid ice-field, and these
floated in a variety of inclinations; one or two rode in
their former horizontal position, but the majority were
inclined to one side or another, and some so much so
that they presented roughly a “house-top” shape, the
original surface constituting one slope and one of the
fractured sides the other. On some of the ledges of
these masses the sea-birds could be seen congregated in
hundreds upon hundreds. The largest berg of all, how-
ever, was seen shortly before we entered the harbour of
St. John’s. It was an immense block, roughly oblong in
shape, from the mass of an ice-field, and was floating
nearly in its original position, its surface being worn by
furrows and corrugations, and much soiled from some
cause. The surface of the mass was estimated to be at
least an acre in extent; it projected a considerable
height from the water, and as all icebergs have two-
thirds of their mass below the surface, and only one-
third above, the weight of this huge block must have
been truly prodigious. The beautifully pinnacled and
turreted icebergs common further southward are rare
so far north as this, where the sun and ocean lack the
warmth necessary to fashion such picturesque and
beautiful architecture from these rough-hewn unwieldy
blocks.

Among the birds frequenting the coast I noticed
several great black-backed gulls, American herring-gulls
and kittiwakes, and also a solitary Iceland gull (one of
the white-winged group) just on entering the harbour of
St. John’s. About the fishing-grounds were many
greater shearwaters, which were usually to be observed
in parties, sometimes as many as fifty in number; they
frequently settled upon the surface of the water and
sometimes dived.

68 NATURE IN ACADIE.

We had a favourable passage from St. John’s, but up
to the time we neared the Irish coast very little of
interest is to be recorded. In the mid-Atlantic the only
birds I noticed were some few of the small, black,
white-rumped petrels, including the Leach’s, Wilson’s,
and stormy petrels, which are commonly known as
“Mother Cary’s chickens,” and a small number of
greater shearwaters, with which were, I believe, one or
two of the less known “ dark-bodied’’ shearwaters,
which were until recently thought to be the young of the
last mentioned species. There were also a fair number
of fulmars, among which were several of the dark
phase, which variety or race has those parts which are
normally white of a deepish grey.

On June 7 we were off the north-west coast of
Ireland, and bird-life was more abundant, although
not of great variety. The fulmars were still with us in
some numbers, but there were none of the dark phase
which I had noticed some few days before. There
were also here a few black-backed, herring and other
gulls, one pair of gannets, and numbers of puffins,
guillemots and other diving birds which were usually
observed in parties of varying magnitude.

As we entered the approach to Lough Foyle we were
much struck by the beautiful and picturesque scenery,
superior, I thought, to almost anything to be seen on
the other side of the water. The hillsides were green
with the greenest of well-tended fields, and above these
the hills, green to the very summit, seemed to assert
the peculiar aptness of the epithet ‘Emerald Isle.”
Through the fields wound white and tiresome-looking
roads, while here and there were dotted the characteristic
cabins of the peasantry, who were summoned to their
doors by the report of our rockets and stood there wav-
ing handkerchiefs and aprons to welcome home again
countrymen, or, perhaps, relations. Down by the
water were the residences of the more wealthy classes,
and. here, too, we passed a small but picturesque ruin
which instantly became an object of interest to our
amateur photographer. Soon, however, we were lying-to

NATURE IN ACADIE. 69

in Lough Foyle itself, which extended before us for
miles, its glassy surface glittering like burnished silver
in the rays of the declining sun, and its unruffled
expanse broken only by one or two motionless small
craft. After a far too limited stay at this interesting
spot, however, we were once more on our way to old
England.

We passed the Manxmen’s shores at an early hour
the next morning, and before 8 a.m. were steaming up
the Mersey in the midst of a characteristically dense
fog, which, however, lifted sufficiently for us to catch
a glimpse of New Brighton as we passed; while in a
few minutes more we were lying-to off the docks at
Liverpool. Then came the disembarking, the ordeal
of the custom-house, and the bustle of the railway
station, breaking up the glamour of solitude as a dream
dies at daybreak, and speeding us back along one of
those great veins to be re-energised in this great
throbbing heart which is for ever pulsing forth its
arteries into the most distant regions of the earth !

7O

APPENDIX.

Tue following is a systematic list of the species of
North American birds mentioned in the foregoing pages,
the prefixed numbers and the nomenclature being in
accordance with the check list issued by the Ameri-
can Ornithologists’ Union, and the square-bracketed
synonyms being those more usually employed by
British ornithologists. Round brackets indicate that
the name is not that given by the original describer.
The list is not intended as a complete list of Nova
Scotian birds, there being many species occurring in
the province which have not been mentioned in the
present work.

Marked * are species which also occur in Great Britain.
Marked + are racial varieties of species which occur in Britain.

6. Podilymbus podiceps (Linn.), Prep-sBirtep
GREBE.

7. ~Urinatorimber (Gunn), Loon. [Colymbus glacialis,
Linn., Great Northern Diver. ]

11. *Urinator lumme (Gunn), Rep-THROATED Loon.
(Colymbus septentrionalis, Linn., Red-throated
Diver.]

13. *Fratercula arctica (Linn.), Purrin.

27. *Cepphus grylle (Linn.), Brack GuviLLemor.
[Uria grylle. |

30. *Uria nue (Linn.), Murre. [Common Guille-
mot.

31. *Uria lomvia (Linn.), BRunnicu’s Murre. [Uria
bruennicht, E. Sabine, Brunnich’s Guillemot.]

APPENDIX. a1

34.

aS

*Alle alle (Linn.), Dovexie. [Mergulus alle (Linn.),
Little Auk.]

38. *Stercorarius longicaudus, Vieill., Lonc-TaILED
JAEGER. [Stercorarius parasiticus (Linn.), Long-
tailed Skua; Buffon’s Skua. Note.—The 5S.
parasiticus of the A.O.U. list is the Arctic or
Richardson’s Skua, S. crepidatus of British
ornithologists. |

40. *Rissa tridactyla (Linn.), Kirtrwake.

43. *Larus leucopterus, Faber, IceLanp GULL.

47. *Larus marinus, Linn., Great BLack-BackeD
GULL.

514.tLarus argentatus smithsonianus, Coues, AmMErt-
cAN Herrinc Gui. [Larus avgentatus; the
American form not considered distinct by
British ornithologists. }

86. *Fulmarus glacialis (Linn.), Futmar.

89. *Puffinus major, Faber, GreaTER SHEARWATER.

95. *Puffinus griseus (Gmel.), Darx-BopIED SHEAR-
waTER. [Sooty Shearwater. |

104. *Procellaria pelagica, Linn., Stormy PETREL.

106. *Oceanodroma leucorhoa (Vieill.), Leacu’s
Petre. [Cymochovea leucorrhoa (Vieill.), Fork-
tailed Petrel.]

109. *Oceanites oceanicus (Kuhl), Witson’s PETREL.

117. *Sula bassana (Linn.), GANNET.

155. “Histrionicus histrionicus (Linn.), HarLequin
Duck. ([Casmonetta histrionica (Linn.); His-
trionicus minutus (Linn.)]

172. Branta canadensis (Linn.), CanapA Goose.
[Bernicla canadensis (Linn.). |

194. Ardea herodias, Linn., Great BLuze Heron.

240. *Tringa fuscicollis, Vieill., WuHite-rumpep
SANDPIPER. [Bonaparte’s Sandpiper.]

2434.;Tringa alpina pacifica (Coues), Rep-BackeD
SanppiperR. [American Dunlin; doubtfully-
distinct from Tvinga alpina.)

263. Actitis macularia (Linn.), SpoTrepD SANDPIPER.
| Totanus macularius (Linn.)]

298. Dendragapus canadensis (Linn.), Canapa

Grouse. [Spruce Partridge.]

72

APPENDIX.

3004. Bonasa. umbellus togata (Linn.), Canapian

331.
332.
334-

339-
352.
360.

364

368.

370.
372
375+
376.

390.
394+

412.

420.
428.

474+

477:
484.

RuFFED Grouse. [Canadian birds are said
to constitute a darker race than the type, B.
ambellus. |
Circus hudsonius (Linn.), Marsh Hawk.
Accipiter velox (Wils.), SHARPSHINNED Hawk.
Accipiter atricapillus (Wils.), AmMERican Gos-
HAWK. ([Astuy atvicapillus (Wils.).]
Buteo lineatus (Gmel.), RED-SHOULDERED Hawk.
Halietus leucocephalus (Linn.), BaLp EacLe.
Falco sparverius, Linn., AmMERIcAN SPaRROw-
HAWK.

. +Pandion haliztus carolinensis (Gmel.), AmERI-

cAN Osprey. [Pandion haliatus (Linn.); the
separation of the American bird is not recog-
nised by British ornithologists.]

Syrnium nebulosum (Forst.), Barrep Owt.
[Strix nebulosa of Forster.]

Ulula cinerea (Gmel.), Great Gray OwL.

Nyctala acadica (Gmel.), Saw-wHET OwL.

Bubo virginianus (Gmel.), Great Hornep OwL.

“Nyctea nyctea (Linn.), Snowy Ow. [Nyctea

scandiaca (Linn.).]
Ceryle alcyon (Linn.), BELTED KINGFISHER.
Dryobates pubescens (Linn.), Downy Woop-
PECKER. |Picus pubescens of Linnzus. |
Colaptes auratus (Linn.), Fricker. [Golden-
winged Woodpecker. ]
Chordeiles virginianus (Gmel.), NicHT-Hawk.
Trochilus colubris, Linn., Rupy-THROATED Hum-
MING Birp.

*Otocoris alpestris (Linn.), Hornep Lark.

[Shore Lark.]
Cyanocitta cristata (Linn.), BLue Jay.
Perisoreus canadensis (Linn.), Canapa Jay.

486. {Corvus corax principalis, Ridgw., NorTHERN

488.

Raven. [This race was described since the
publication of the A.O.U. list, in which No.
486 is called “‘ American Raven ”.]

Corvus americanus, Aud., AMERICAN Crow.

DES

636.
655.
667.
671.
674.
697.

722.

APPENDIX. 73

. 1Pinicola enucleator canadensis (Cab.), Ameri-

cAN Pine Grosseak. ([Pyrrhula enucleator
(Linn.); British ornithologists do not recognise
the separation of the American bird.]

*Passer domesticus (Linn.), European House
Sparrow. [Introduced.]

- *Plectrophenax nivalis (Linn.), SNowF.ake.

[Snow Bunting.

Zonotrichia albicollis (Gmel.), WHITE-THROATED
SPARROW.

Spizella socialis (Wils.), Cu1ppinc Sparrow.

Junco hyemalis (Linn.), SLarz-CoLorep Junco.
[Black Snowbird.]

Passerella iliaca (Merr.), Fox Sparrow.

Chelidon erythrogaster (Bodd.), Barn SwaLtow.
[Hivundo horveorum (Bodd.).]

Tachycincta bicolor (Vieill.), Trez Swattow.
[ White-bellied Swallow.]

Lanius borealis (Vieill.), NorTHERN SHRIKE.

Vireo olivaceus (Linn.), Rep-Eyep Vireo. [Red-
eyed Flycatcher. ]

Mniotilta varia (Linn.), Biack anp WHITE
WARBLER.

Dendroica coronata (Linn.), MyrTLE WarBLER.
[Yellow-rumped Warbler.]

Dendroica virens (Gmel.), BLack-THROATED
GREEN WARBLER.

Dendroica vigorsii (Aud.), Pine WarBier. [Den-
draca pinus of Baird; Pine-creeping Warbler. ]

Seiurus aurocapillus (Linn.), Oven-Birp.
[Golden crowned Thrush. ]

Anthus pensilvanicus (Lath.), American Pirit.
[Anthus ludovicianus of Lichtenstein. ]

Troglodytes hiemalis, Vieill., WinTER WREN.

726. *Certhia familiaris americana (Bonap.), Brown

727:
728.

CREEPER.

Sitta carolinensis, Lath., \WWHITE-BREASTED Nut-
HATCH.

Sitta canadensis, Linn., Rep-Breastep Nut-
HATCH.

74 APPENDIX.

735. Parus atricapillus, Linn., Cuickaprz. | Black-
capped Chickadee. ]

740. Parus hudsonicus, Forst., Hupsonian Cuick-
ADEE.

748 Regulus satrapa, Licht.,GoLpEN-crownep Kinc-
LET.

758a. Turdus ustulatus swainsonii (Cab.), OLive-
BACKED THRUSH.

759). Turdus aonalaschke pallasii (Cab.), Hermir
THRUSH.

761. Merula migratoria (Linn.), American Rosin.
[Tuvdus mgvatorius, Linn., Migratory Thrush.]

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