FOR THE PEOPLE
FOR EDVCATION

FOR SCIENCE

1

LIBRARY

OF

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM

OF

NATURAL HISTORY

KNOWING BIRDS
THROUGH STORIES

By the same author

KNOWING INSECTS
THROUGH STORIES

IN this delightful work Mr. Bralliar delicately
reveals some of the most surprising truths
about insect life in the plainest, simplest language;
and in his characteristically attractive way of
moulding his material into stories, he fascinates
both the child and the adult reader.

The truly wonderful things the author tells
about bees, butterflies, moths, grasshoppers,
wasps, ants, flies, and other denizens of the
woods and fields fairly astound: The butterfly
with the thousand eyes, the worm with its handle
and peculiar antecedence, hornets that make
paper, the praying mantis that devours her
husband, idiosyncrasies of Madam Doodlebug
the murderess, marvellous physical power of
the caddis fly in moving stones, the nations and
kingdoms of ants, insects with air bladders on
their feet, giant assassin bugs, fairy acrobats,
the danger of mosquitoes and the dreaded
housefly.

While pleasingly simple the book is scien-
tifically accurate and forms an easy first course
in natural history. With six color plates, eight
half tones and text illustrations.

12mo. Cloth. S23 Pages. $1.75, Net.

FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Publishers
354-360 Fourth Avenue, New York

PAIR OF YELLOW WARBLERS
[See Chapter 441

Knowing Birds
Through Stories

5q."gQ.i(

BY

FLOYD BRALLIAR

AUTHOR OF
'^KNOWING INSECTS THBOUGH STORIES"

ILLUSTRATED

WITH TWELVE PLATES IN COLORS

BY

E. R. KALMBACH

ASSISTANT BIOLOGIST

UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

AND

OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS IN BLACK-AND-WHITE

FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY;

NEW YORK AND LONDON

1922

Coptbight/1922, bt
FI7NK & WAGNALLS COMPANY

[Printtd In th« United SUtes of America]

Published in November, 1922

Copyrigbt nndcr the Articlei of the Coprrlffht ConrmtioiB

ot the P&n-Amerloui Bepublics &nd th*

VniUd States. AujUBt 11, 1910.

CONTENTS

PAGE

Preface xi

Key to the Ordebs of North American Birds . . . xiv

CHAPTER

I. The Lesson a Goose Started 1

II. The Horned Grebe 5

III. The Great Diver 11

Key to Pygopodes 17

IV. The California Gull 18

V. The Black Tern 26

Key to Longipennes and Tubinares. SZ

VI. The Double-crested Cormorant 33

VII. The White Fisher 37

Key to Steganopodes 44

VITI. Johnnie Greenhkid 45

IX. Jimmy the Goose 59

X. Lady Jane the Swan 65

XL The Shitepoke 75

Key to Herodiones 80

XII. The Silent Dancer 81

XIII. The Sora Eail 88

XIV. The American Coot 93

Key to Paludicol^ 97

XV. The Killdeer 98

Key to Limicol^ 103

XVT. Lady Betty's Husband 104

y

VI

CHAPTER
XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXV.

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIV.

CONTENTS

PAGE

The Praibie Chicken Ill

Key to Galling 119

The Mourning Dove 120

The Turkey Buzzard 126

The Bald Eagle 132

Fleetwing the Sparrow Hawk 137

Silent Wing the Great Horned Owl 144

Key to Eaptores 156

The Belted Kingfisher 157

Key to Coccyges 166

Picus the Flicker 167

A Strange Nest 175

The Chimney Swift 181

eubythroat 188

Key to Macrochires 197

Jerry the Kingbird 199

Sam Black 208

The Bobolink 219

The Grafter 224

The Meadow Lark 229

The Hanging Bird 234

Peter the Goldfinch 241

The Song Sparrow 247

The Towhee 250

The Cardinal 253

The Indigo Bunting 258

The Summer Tanager 261

Flygood and Fleetwing 265

The Cedar Waxwing 275

The Butcher Bird 279

The Red-Eyed Vireo 284

The Yellow Warbler 287

CONTENTS vii

CHAPTER PAGE

XLV. The Yellow-Beeasted Chat 290

XLVI. The Mocking Bied 294

XLVII. Sally the House Ween 300

XLYIII. The Beown Ceeepee 307

XLIX. Ceeepy the White-beeasted Nut-
hatch 311

L. The Black-Capped Chickadee 316

LI. The Blue-Geay Gnatcatchee 320

LII. The Wood Theush 323

LIII. The Ameeican Robin 326

LIV. AzuEE Wings the Bluebied 333

Ejby to Passeees 338

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Paie of Yellow Waeblees {In Colors) . . . .Frontispiece

POOT OF ThEEE-TOED WOODPECKER xiv

Foot of Foub-toed Woodpecker xiv

Horned Grebes with Nest (In Colors) 8

California Gulls Gathering Insects (In Colors) . . 20

California Gulls 24

Old and Young Ring-Billed Gulls 24

Young Terns 32

Young Double-Crested Cormorants 32

Nests of Double-Crested Cormorants 33

Fully Webbed Foot of One of the Staganopodes . 44

Male and Female Mallard 48

Mallard Drake 48

Canada Goose 48

The Trumpeter Swan {In Colors) 68

The Green Heron {In Colors) 80

Pair of Sandhill Cranes at Home {In Colors) . . 84

Nest and Young American Coot 96

Young Killdeer 96

KiLLDEER AND NeST 97

Foot of Coot 97

Male Bobwhite 108

Bobwhite's Nest 108

Young Mourning Doves 108

Prairie Chickens {In Colors) 116

youNG Turkey Buzzard 128

ix

X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Sparrow Hawk Eating Mouse 128

Young Great Horned Owl 129

The Sparrow IIawk (In Colors) 140

Foot of Typical IIaavk 15G

NiGHTHAWK 176

Nigiithawk's Nest in Pasture 17G

Tail and Foot of Swift 198

The Baltimore Oriole (In Colors) 240

Nest of Cardinal 25G

Pair of Indigo Buntings (In Colors) 260

The Migrant Shrike (In Colors) 280

Yellow-Breasted Chats (In Colors) 292

Head of Cardinal 340

PREFACE

WHEN my father and his Southern bride came back
from the Ozark country to his boyhood home in
Southeastern Iowa and purchased a claim, their first
thought was not of the crops their land could be forced to
produce and the money they might make. When a site
was selected for the new house it was located on the
southern edge of a woodlot, ten acres of which were set
aside as a playground. Possibly it would be more accurate
to say that this woodlot was selected as a playground, and
the house was located so as to be convenient. Be this as
it may, because of their natural taste and pioneer training,
great importance was attached to this plot, selected because
of its location as well as the large variety of trees and
plants that grew on it. Specimens of every additional wild
plant and flower they could obtain were transplanted to
this grove. It was fenced and the underbrush retained,
except that here and there a specimen clump was removed,
while only such stock as would do no harm were allowed to
pasture there. Even those were kept out most of the year.
Like most pioneers, father was a great hunter, but in
this grove nothing was ever allowed to be disturbed by the
crack of a gun. There we children went to find the first
bloodroot or anemone in the spring, and there we gathered
the last black haws and wild grapes in the fall. Nowhere
else were the wild gooseberries so large, the crabapples so
yellow and fragrant, or the plums so red. Much of every
Sabbath, when it was not raining, and every spare houy

xi

xii PREFACE

of the week between, we children spent in this grove. Best
of all, father and mother were as anxious to go to "the
grove'* as any of ns; and when they did go, we children
were always delighted, for there was sure to be a story, a
bit of information, or a reminiscence connected with a
tree or a flower.

With a stream of living water running through it, and
the orchard, corn pens, barn, and cattle sheds on its border,
it is small wonder that this grove became the haven for
birds of every description, and many of them became so
tame that they did not resent my assisting in their house-
hold affairs by furnishing prepared nesting material and
by giving the babies an occasional treat of worms and bugs.
It was here I learned to know and love the birds; and it
is the story of some of these birds with a few others I have
met elsewhere that I mean to tell in this book. I have
traveled far and wide, but never have I seen any other
place of nearly the same size that was inhabited by so
many kinds of birds, or where they were so unconcerned
when we were around. This grove was a haven for over
thirty years, and doubtless several generations of birds
taught their young that there they could find safety.

Hawks and crows were the only birds not allowed to
nest there, and when they attempted to do so they were
caught by setting a steel trap in their nest, as that would
not disturb their neighbors. Like other children, we
hunted birds' nests, and were always alert to see what
our feathered friends were doing, but we did not take the
eggs. Even to this day I have never made a collection of
birds' eggs. To mother, a bird's nest was a sort of sanctu-
ary, and I have never been able to get far enough from
her training to regard it in any other light.

PREFACE xiii

In selecting the birds as subjects of the stories in this
book, an attempt has been made not only to choose one
or more from each of the important families but to select
as far as possible those that are widely known in the
United States. If, in telling the story of a bird, I do not
mention the slightly different species of the same group,
it is in order that the book may not become confusing to
the reader. For this collection of stories is not intended to
be a complete guide to the birds of America. It is hoped,
however, that any boy or girl who reads the book may
learn to what order any bird he or she sees belongs. To this
end the keys are intended to be complete enough to enable
him to identfy the family of most of the common birds.

The plan is the same as that of the author^s "KJQowing
Insects Through Stories," and that book has been so
kindly received by the public that it is hoped they will
also like 'knowing Birds Through Stories."

I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to Dr. Harry
C. Oberholser for making the keys, reading the manuscript
and offering many helpful suggestions; to A. F. Ganier,
Frank G. Pellett, T. E. Mussehnan, H. S. Vaughn and
A. H. Eastgate for lending photographs to be used for illus-
trations ; and to Mr. E. R. Kalmbach for able work in draw-
ing the colored illustrations.

Key to the Orders of North American Birds

WITH 3 TOES.

TuBiNARES — Albatrosses.

With 3 toes in front and tubular nostrils,

Pygopodes — Auks.

With 3 toes in front, nostrils not tubular, toes fully webbed, wings
and tail short, and legs placed far behind the middle of body.

LONGIPENNES Gulls.

With 3 toes in front, nostrils not tubular, toes fully webbed, wings

and tail long, and legs placed near the middle of body.
LiMicoL^ — Shore Birds.

Like LoNGiPENNES but toes not fully webbed.
Pici — Woodpeckers.

With 2 toes in front and one behind.

Foot of Three-toed Woodpecker

WITH 4 TOES.

With 2 toes in front and 2 behind.

PsiTTACi — Parrots. , , . , ^ , ,

With a strongly hooked bill and unfeathered skin (cere) on the base
of the upper mandible.
Pici — Woodpeckers. , , r ,.

With bill not strongly hooked and without a cere on the base of the
upper mandible; bill chisel-like; tail stiff and its feathers pointed.

Foot of Four-toed Woodpecker
xiv

KEY TO THE ORDERS OF BIRDS xv

Coccyges.

Bill not strongly hooked and without a cere, but rather long and
somewhat hooked, and tail feathers not stiff or pointed.

With 3 toes in front and 1 behind.
Steganopodes — Pelicans. Cormorants, and their allies.
All 4 toes connected by a web.

Only front toes fully webbed.
TuBiNARES — Petrels and Shearwaters.

With tubular nostrils.
Anseres — Ducks and Geese.

Nostrils not tubular, and edges of bill more or less fringed or saw-like.
Pygopodes — Loons.

Like Anseres but edges of bill not fringed, tail short, and legs

placed far back.
LoNGiPENNEs — Gulls and Terns.

Like Anseres but edges of bill not fringed, tail long, and legs placed

near the middle of body.

Front toes not fully webbed.
OcoNTOGLOSSiE — Flamingoes.

Bill bent abruptly downward at its middle; neck and legs long.
CoLUMB^ — Pigeons.

Bill not bent abruptly downward at its middle, the upper mandible

with a soft cere, bill slightly if at all hooked; legs short.
Raptores — Hawks and Owls.

Upper mandible with cere at base not soft, bill strongly hooked.
Pygopodes — Grebes.

Upper mandible without naked skin (cere) at base; tail absent or

practically so; toes with lobes, or flaps.
Herodiones — Herons.

Tail well developed, lower part of thighs naked, or bill long and

grooved on each side; outer toe separate from the middle toe for

its whole length; space around the eye and between the eye and the

bill not feathered; neck and legs long.
Paludicoli: — Cranes, Rails, an " Gallinules.

Like Herodiones but space around the eye and between the eye and

the bill feathered; hind toe on the same level as the front toes, or

else bird over 3 feet long.
LiMicoL^ — Shore Birds.

Like Paludicolce but hind toe short and inserted above the level of

the front toes, or else bird not over 3 feet long,
Gallin^e — Gallinaceous Birds.

Lower portion of thighs feathered, or else the outer toe united to the

middle toe for half its length ; bill, if long, not grooved on the side ;

the hind toe elevated, or else the longest wing quill not twice as long

as the secondaries.
Coccyges — Cuckoos.

Hind toe inserted on the same level as the front toes, and the outer

toe united to the middle toe for half its length.
Macrochires — Goatsuckers, Swifts, and Hummingbirds.

The outer toe not united to the middle toe for half its length; tail

feathers, 10.
Passeres — Perching Birds.

Similar to Macrochires but with 12 tail feathers.

THE LESSON A GOOSE STARTED

I WELL remember the first time I learned that any
two kinds of birds were more alike than any other
two. It was a raw day early in March and my rheuma-
tism did not allow me to be out of doors. Naturally this
was a trial to me. It was raining in a desultory sort of
way and there were great pools of water wherever there
was not ice and slush. I was very impatient over the situa-
tion and was begging mother to let me go out of doors.
Finally, her work done for the time, she came over and
sat down by me and began to talk about the geese that
were playing out in the water. I remember I asked why
it was that they were having such a fine time while the
chickens were standing around, as much disgruntled and
disappointed with the weather as I. I could not see why
the geese should be swimming and having just the best
time possible while the chickens were humped up under
the old hay shed, looking as if they had lost their last
friend. I remember that while I felt sorry for the chickens,
my sympathies were with the geese, and I longed to get
out and paddle with them.

Presently an old goose stuck her head under the water
and, kicking her feet up in the air, stood in this grotesque
position for some moments while the water bubbled up
around her neck. Mother explained that the geese belong

1

2 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

to the swimmers and that they were feeding on plant roots
and stems, and whatever else they could find under the
water; that God had made a great family of swimmers
which live and play in the water. She said they were espe-
cially fitted for this by the fact that they have a large
amount of fat on their bodies under the feathers and skin,
and that this keeps them from feeling the cold. This old
goose was simply standing on her head while she chewed
off some choice morsel of food under the water. She then
explained that the swimmers have not only the ordinary
feathers that all birds have but also a thick coat of down
next to the skin, so that even though the outside feathers
get wet this down keeps the water from getting to the skin.
She told me that they also have a great deal of oil on their
feathers and that this oil keeps the feathers from getting
wet, as the feathers of a chicken do.

I was interested at once and began to ask questions
about these swimmers, and learned that they all have
Tvebbed feet, altho the web is not the same on all of
the different kinds. Moreover, many of them have a
fcroad, flat bill, so that when feeding they can gather up
a great mouthful of whatever they happen to find, and
by sucking the water back and forth through this bill they
can wash clean whatever is eatable before swallowing it.
I learned that some of the swimmers have very small
wings and spend nearly all of their time in the water,
and can fly only when the wind is right. Still others have
formed such a love for the water that they do not pretend
to fly, and in consequence their wings have grown so small
and weak that they could not fly if they tried. These
birds of course live only on the shores of some large body of
water, but none of them in our country. The swimmers
are geese, ducks, swans, pelicans, sea-gulls, loons, etc.

THE LESSON A GOOSE STARTED i

Mother told me that there is another large group of
birds called waders. Unlike the swimmers they have very
small or no webs on their feet and could not swim rapidly
if they desired ; but they have long legs and wade along the
shores of rivers and streams catching frogs, minnows, and
such things as come their way. Some have long necks as
well, and so can get their food down deep in the water.
Some of these waders also run over the land and use their
long bills for picking up worms, insects, etc. The waders
are the cranes, storks, snipes, sandpipers, herons, etc,

Next I learned about the birds of prey that have strong
beaks with a hook on the end for tearing flesh. These
birds all have powerful wings, so that they can fly long
distances quickly. If it were not for these powerful wings
they might not be able to catch their prey. Most of these
birds, except owls, have a sharp hooked beak, and strong
claws called talons which enable them to catch and hold
their prey. Some of these birds live on dead animals,
but even they have the hooked beak and the talons in
order to tear their food into pieces. It is easy to recog-
nize this group of birds by their beaks and talons. They
are the hawks, vultures, and eagles.

^T)id you ever notice," she said, "that on every bright,
clear day the old hens get out and scratch in the dirt for
their food and how they like to wallow in dust and ashes V
There is a great group of birds that have strong feet and
legs with stout nails for doing just this sort of thing, and
they are known as the scratchers. In this group come
the quails, pheasants, turkeys, guineas, chickens, etc. They
have plump heavy bodies and comparatively short stubby
wings; and while they fly very rapidly they fly only short
distances before alighting.

By this time I was so interested that I could be per-

4 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

fectly happy sitting at the window, watching the birds,
and trying to decide in my o^rm mind which of the ones
I saw belonged to these different groups. Mother promised
that some other time she would tell me about the other
great tribes of birds; but those groups contain so many
birds and are so easy to distinguish one from another and
from the other birds that this lesson has always been of
great help to me in deciding to what family any particular
bird belongs. I give it to you just as she gave it to me
without mentioning the other groups of birds at this
time. You will find it interesting and of great help to
you to turn to the key in this book and pick out the differ-
ent families of birds that come under each of these groups.
Further on in the book you may learn about the other
groups.

n

THE HORNED GREBE

I HAD a sister twelve or fourteen years older than I wlio
was teaching school on the other side of the river three
or four miles from our place, and it was my job every
Monday morning to ride behind her on a horse to her
boarding place and then bring the horse back. One morn-
ing in May, as it had been raining heavily, my older
brothers decided to go with ns and see whether the river
was over its banks, in the hope that they might be able
to spear some fish. The Sknnk River overflows its banks
practically every spring, and at this time many large fish
go out into the shallow water that spreads over the low
bottoms and pass into the shallow ponds, for in such
places they can get an abundance of food. At such times
father and we boys used to take the old "gig^' and often
found little trouble in spearing fifty to one hundred pounds
of fish within an hour or two.

On the way home when we reached Sellar's pond we
noticed a duck, or at least what we supposed was a duck, in
the middle of the pond. We promptly dismounted, tied
our horses to the fence and ran over to the pond. As he
went, Brother John filled his pockets with stones. Brother
John was expert at throwing stones. Many a time I have
seen him kill squirrels or birds in this way, and he hoped

6

6 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

he might be able to get within throwing distance of this
duck. Any one who knows anything about wild ducks
knows that no duck would remain on the pond and allow
a boy to come near enough to kill it with a stone, but any
one who knows anything about boys also knows that boy
would nevertheless make the attempt.

This bird remained about the middle of the pond and
seemed to pay very little attention to us. The pond was
not more than a hundred yards wide at the widest place
so of course it was no trouble to get within throwing dis-
tance. John began throwing stones, but the bird paid no
attention to him whatever except that every time a stone
came so near that there was danger of being hit he would
dive. Frequently the stone struck the place where this
bird had been sitting only an instant before, but he was
never there when the stone arrived. Presently he would
come up fifty or a hundred feet away and was again ready
to play his part in the game. After we had all thrown till
our arms were completely tired, we decided to wade after
this bird. My brother had decided by this time what the
bird was, and said it was a "didipper."

Presently one of the neighbors came by and joined in the
chase. We carried clubs and rocks and were determined
that we would keep this bird under the water until he was
so exhausted for breath that we would be able to catch him.
For fully two hours we chased hither and thither, back
and forth across the pond. Whenever the bird appeared
we tried to surround him so that he could not dive past
us. Then we would throw clubs and rocks, but even tho
we were not more than fifteen or twenty feet away no one
could throw quickly enough to hit this wonderful diver.

Once he dived straight into my legs, but before I could

THE HORNED GREBE 7

make a move he was gone, and two or three times the
other boys had the same experience. It was a most ex-
citing chase, and of course we felt sure that if we per-
sisted long enough we would be able to catch the poor
bird. Finally the bird became too wary to come up and
swim on the surface. Instead he would merely stick his
bill out of the water so that he could breathe and there he
would remain until some one spied him and threw at the
beak. Finally we no longer attempted to throw, but en-
deavored to find his bill sticking out of the water and slip
Tip to it quietly in the vain hope that the bird could not
see with his eyes under water. It was very interesting
to see how wary this bird finally became. He would
stick his bill out of the water for a few moments and then
without making the least ripple, would quietly sink be-
neath the surface and dive away to another place perhaps
fifty or a hundred feet away, when just as noiselessly he
would poke his beak above the water again. Altho we
started the chase before nine o'clock, it was nearly noon be-
fore we finally gave up and started for home. We left be-
cause we could not find our bird any longer. I thought he
had been under water till he had drowned, but when we
were on our horses ready to start we looked back and
there was our bird swimming about as tho nothing had
happened.

When we reached home we had much to tell father and
mother and were eager to know more of this bird. Father
said that when a man attempts to shoot one of these birds,
they often hit the place where it had been, but the bird sees
the flash and manages to get under the water before the
shot reaches him and for this reason they are the hardest
of aU swimmers to shoot. Of course this is not true with

8 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

our modem guns which have no cap to flash. These birds
do not even try to fly when hunted. In fact it is commonly
believed that they can not fly. Some of the old hunters
claim that they travel only by swimming or by waddling
across country from pond to pond or from stream to
stream. Father said he knew better than this because, in
the early days of the country when they were much more
abimdant, he had seen them fly and was aware that they
are very rapid flyers. They migrate the same as other
birds do, and it is preposterous to suppose that a bird
would travel hundreds of miles levery year by swimming.
He said that he had seen them rise into the air and fly
away, starting from some bank or high place, and that
they always started to fly directly into the teeth of the
wind. He believed that on still days they can not rise.
These birds are rather common throughout the Mississippi
valley, often spending the winter where there is open
water on the ponds or along the shores of the rivers.

In general appearance they look much like small ducks.
I remember shooting one on the old crabapple pond one
June. It was a beautiful bird, but I was surprized at
its small size. These birds build their nests on floating
vegetation found at the edge of a pond or along the
shore of a stream and lead the little ones into the water
when they are only a few hours old. They are perfectly
harmless, feeding on snails, crawfish, etc., with grass and
such other food as they can pick up about the ponds to sup-
plement their menu. They are our most common represen-
tative of those birds whose wings are too small for ordi-
nary flight, and so have adapted themselves to swimming
and diving.

The old settlers claimed they could dive rapidly enough

HORNEl) (.RKHIS WITH NEST

THE HORNED GREBE 9

to catch fish under water. Whether this is true or not I
do not know, but no bird with which I am acquainted is
more expert at diving. They are usually found either
solitary or in pairs; altho in my childhood it was not
unusual to find flocks of a dozen or more. Now they are
rare.

Some months ago my old father found one of these
birds waddling about among the ^^uckbrush'' on our
school farm very near my house. Evidently it was mi-
grating and for some reason or other had been forced to
the ground. Here it was all but helpless, and father had
no trouble in catching it. The poor creature had evidently
been wandering about for hours, trying to reach water;
but it was found more than a quarter of a mile from the
Cumberland river, its nearest safety. Any bird or beast
of prey passing that way would have found an easy break-
fast. We kept it for a few hours, let the children see it,
and then carried it off to the river. We attempted to feed
it, but it refused all food and was perfectly delighted when
it finally got its feet in the w^ater. The first thing it did
was to dive as far out from the shore as it could go,
evidently still fearing that our intentions were to do it in-
jury in spite of the fact that we had been its rescuers.

I have not told you that these birds were grebes.
Grebes are queer looking birds. Their legs are set so
far back that they walk almost straight up, as they have
no tail. Eew birds find it harder to walk, which probably
accounts for this one's habit of nesting on a raft.

We have several kinds of grebes, but the horned variety
is one of the most abundant species. It is called ^Tiorned"
because in mating time the male develops brilliantly col-
ored 'Tiorns" that are very conspicuous. Now they mostly

10 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

nest north of the United States, tho formerly they
nested as far south as Iowa. They visit us every fall and
spring when migrating. The mother frequently carries
her young on her back during the first few days of their
life. She swims in and out among the rushes, catching
tadpoles and small water bugs which she feeds to her
young by jerking her head back over her shoulder so skill-
fully that she does not shake them from their perch. The
male does not seem to take part in this feeding, tho he al-
ways remains near and seems very solicitous for his fam-
ily's safety.

The young can swim as soon as they hatch, but some
claim they must be taught to dive, and that the old bird
teaches them to do this, when she thinks they are old
enough, by the simple device of throwing them into the
air by a quick flit of her wings. This is done in such a
way as to throw them under the water head first, so there
is nothing for them to do but to learn to dive. Whether
this be true or not, they soon become as expert divers as
tlieir parents.

Ill

THE GREAT DIVER

ONE bright day early in June the great diver, with a
kick and a sprawl^ rolled out of his eggshell prison
and rested for a time, and when his mother finally left
the nest, opened his eyes, blinked painfully at the light,
and as he gradually became accustomed to it beg^n to no-
tice his surroundings. He found himself lying in a nest-
like depression on a heap of decaying moss and rushes in
the shallow water, fifteen or twenty feet from tlie shore
of a beautiful lake in Northern Maine. Of course he was
not aware of this latter fact.

Tall green rushes, interspersed with the broken, brown,
and blackened growth of the previous year, stood like a for-
est on all sides, but his nest heap was sufficiently elevated
to allow him to look out over the expanse of the lake. He
was more fortunately situated than many of his fellows
who first see the light of day on the shores of our northern
lakes, in that his parents had elected to build their home
in the water. They had piled up two or three bushels of
rushes, moss, and other vegetable matter and anchored them
to the rushes in such a way that should the water rise the
nest would float but could not leave its moorings, but
should the water recede would rest on the muddy bottom

11

12 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

and still be surrounded with abundance of water. This,
soaking up through the bottom of the heap, would cause it
to femient and so make the nest always warm and snug.
Many of their fellows elected to build by wallowing a de-
pression in the earth near the edge of the water, and when
their young hatched they found themselves in an appar-
ently dangerous position, for many of the animals that
hunt the shores of lakes would use them in the form of a
good meal.

As the great diver gazed over the delightful expanse of
water, at some distance he saw a handsome bird almost
as large as a goose but with shorter neck, gliding over the
surface of the water. Instinct told him that this was his
mother. This bird had a black head and neck, while her
black back and wings were heavily and irregularly spotted
with white. Her belly and breast were whitish, tho he
could not see much of this, for she swam so low that only
the top of her back showed above the water.

At the other end of the lake a similar bird was diving
and plaj'ing in the water. This was his father who, choos-
ing to leave the feeding grounds near the nest to his busy
wife, did his ovm fishing farther away. Suddenly the
mother disappeared under the surface of the lake and
presently arose with a fish in her mouth. Carrying this
to the edge of the nest she proceeded to tear off strips
of flesh and after thoroughly macerating these she
placed them in the diver's mouth and he ate them
greedily.

When his appetite was satisfied, his mother cleaned out
the remaining pieces of egg shell from the nest, put her
house in order and clambered on the nest to brood her off-

THE GREAT DIVER 13

spring and perchance hatch the other great brown egg that
still remained in the nest. This egg was almost as large
as a goose's egg, rather long in shape, and somewhat
pointed at one end. It was chocolate brown, more or less
marked and splashed with a deeper color. Only two had
been laid in this nest, altho the common loon occasionally
lays three eggs.

Presently, from the far end of the lake came a long
laughing idiotic callj very much like the hysterical langh
of a lunatic, weird, wild, but not unmusical. The weather
was warm, and recognizing this as the call of her mate,
the mother slid into the water and swam rapidly down the
lake to join him. With her wings tightly folded on her
back she swam with long, alternating sweeps of her great
webbed feet, making a speed that is possible to only a few
of the swimming birds. Before she reached her lord, she
noticed a young shiny trout in the clear water below and,
diving, set chase. The startled trout, recognizing his
danger, darted away with the utmost speed, but the great
bird gained rapidly in spite of his exertions. Presently
she caught him some six or eight feet under water and
crunching his body two or three times gave him a quick
twirl and catching him by the head swallowed him before
she reached the surface.

Joining her lord they played about over the surface of
the lake for some time, then, mindful of her baby, she
returned to her brooding. Things ran along in this way
for two or three days, when the great diver became im-
patient to get into the water; the mother loon, finding
that the remaining eggs did not hatch, permitted him
to do this. That night the little family rested together on

14 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

the water near the edge of the lake. With the first gleam
of dawn they were awake and their weird cries were echo-
ing far and near. Soon the father bird raised himself
straight np in the water facing the rising sun and began
flapping his wings. Immediately his wife joined in his
weird morning dance and the great diver, seeing his par-
ents go through this ceremony, imitated them as best he
could.

This was the regular morning ceremony with which
they greeted the rising sun, and is an interesting charac-
teristic of the loon. This ceremony over, the father de-
parted to his feeding ground at the far end of the lake and
the mother led the great diver to the shallow water near
the nest.

One day soon after the diver had left the nest a man
chanced to see him and his mother as they floated on the
bosom of the lake. They were near the nest and the
man pushed his canoe into the water so as to cut them off
from the body of the lake. When the mother saw the man
in his boat she gave a peculiar cry which the diver under-
stood to be a danger cry. He promptly disappeared be-
neath the water and dived through the rushes away from
the boat. His mother almost immediately dived and
coming up a few yards on the other side of the boat,
flapped the water with her wings and feet as loudly as
possible to attract the man's attention. But the man knew
something of birds and was not to be deceived by the
mother; so keeping a keen eye on the water among the
rushes he saw the baby loon rise to the surface, where he
remained perfectly still. With two or three strokes of the
paddle the boat glided toward the spot where he was hid-
den. The mother again uttered her warning cry and the

THE GREAT DIVER 15

great diver boldly dived out into the lake toward his mother.
Again she dived and coming up very near the boat made a
great splattering of the water to attract attention to her-
self.

Back and forth the chase continued for some time, when
the great diver growing more wary dived into some brush
that overhung the bank and rising just high enough to
allow his nostrils to stick out of the water remained per-
fectly hidden.

The man was outwitted at last. He knew the bird was
somewhere in the neighborhood doing this very thing, but
could not locate him; so he gave up the chase and rowed
down the lake. When he had rounded the point the
mother loon uttered a low call and her son came to meet
her. Swimming to him and letting her body down until
only her head stuck out of the water she received him on
her back and then rising to the surface swam rapidly
down the lake. She swam, dived, and even caught fish
with her young on her back, and so successfully was it
done that he was not dislodged.

As the days went by, the loon family began to take an
occasional flight. Loons cannot rise directly from the
water as some ducks do, but run for a considerable distance
over the surface, paddling with their feet, flapping their
wings, and making great speed. Finally they are able to
rise into the air. These three birds would race across the
water as rapidly as possible, but when the parent birds
rose the great diver was not able to follow. Disconsolate he
watched them fly away and when after a time they re-
turned and plunged into the lake with terrific force he was
overjoyed. Loons have very heavy bodies and compara-
tively short wings and so find it hard to rise from the

16 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

water, but when they succeed in taking flight they fly with
great rapidity. They are not able to check their speed
much and still remain in the air. When ready to alight,
they circle over the water getting lower each time until
finally they often plunge in with almost the velocity of an
express train, making a tremendous noise and half run,
half swim, for a considerable distance before they are able
to stop.

Within another week the great diver was able to take
to the air himself, and then he accompanied his parents
on their daily excursions. In the meantime he had learned
to be almost as expert in diving and fishing as his par-
ents.

One day he accompanied them on a prolonged trip to the
sea shore. While he was fishing his parents disappeared,
he knew not where. At first he was lonely, but he soon
discovered many young birds like himself fishing in the
same region and made friends with them. These birds
soon learned to wander far out at sea, sometimes gathering
in large flocks at night to sleep on the surface of the
ocean. However, they preferred to sleep on the shore.

As the weather grew colder, one after another departed
for the Southland, and one day the great diver went also.
After spending the winter fishing in the lakes and on the
coast of Florida he selected a mate with whom he flew to
the Northland, and seeking out a lake that was not already
occupied by loons set up housekeeping for himself.

There are several kinds of loons, all of which are much
alike in their habits. They breed from the northern part
of the United States to Alaska. They love solitude, so sel-
dom more than one pair nest in a lake unless it be a large
one. They seem not to breed as far South as they did in

THE GREAT DIVER 17

my boyhood days, but are often seen migrating over much,
of the coimtry, and are to be seen at some time of the year
on most of the larger streams of the United States.

Aside from the common loon we have the yellow-billed
ioon, the Pacific loon, and the red-throated loon. They are
such skilled divers that it takes a very good marksman
indeed to shoot one, though they practically never fly when
pursued. Occasionally loons stay in the north too long, and
a sudden cold spell freezes so much ice on the borders of
their lake that they have no room to run on the water far
enough to take flight so they must stay where they are.
Finally the lake freezes over and they starve to death.

Key to the Families of Pygopodes

CoLYMBiDvE — Grebes.

Without a tail and wHh lobed feet.
Alcid^ — Guillemots, AukS, and M'lrres.

With a tail and with webbed feet, but with no hind toe.
Gavi iDJE — Loons.

With a tail, webbed feet, and with a hind toe.

THE CALIFORNIA GULL

IN the fall of 1897 I went to Provo City, Utah, and spent
something like two years in teaching. Having always
been a lover of gardening and farming, the next spring in
partnership with a friend I rented a piece of land not far
from the city for gardening, since I could do this without
interfering with my teaching, especially as the heavy part
of the gardening work would come during the summer va-
cation. Along in April I hired a team and went to plow
this land. About ten o'clock the first forenoon I was sur-
prized to see a large flock of white birds approaching. In
a moment they were alighting on all sides, squealing, run-
ning over the plowed ground, and having a good time in
general. As long as I plowed in this field these birds re-
mained. At times a few would fly away, but others were
always coming to take their places. Before long there were
two or three hundred of these birds in the field, fussing and
quarreling over every bug and worm my plow turned up.
They were so anxious to get these worms that they would
fly ahead of the plow and sit as close as they possibly
could until I passed them. Sometimes when a worm
showed in the furrow I have had a gull jump in just ahead
of the turning soil and would feel sure it would be plowed
under, but some way it always managed to get out just in

18

THE CALIFORNIA GULL 19

the nick of time. They were in the furrow behind, on the
plowed ground ahead, and on all sides, hunting and peck-
ing about constantly, and every one chirping or squealing
until the field was noisier than a barnyard at feeding time.

These birds seem a little larger than the ordinary do-
mestic duck, but not so large as the largest Peking ducks I
have seen. Their bodies are much more graceful than the
body of a duck and they have much longer wings and
shorter necks; altho the bill is rather broad at the base, it
is not flat like a duck's bill but comes almost to a point and
has a decided hook at the end much like the beak of a
hawk. They were bluish gray over the back and white on
the breast, the belly, and the quills of the tails. I had
seen gulls before far out on Lake Michigan, tho they were
not like these ; and I had read enough to know at once that
they were sea gulls of some kind. I was surprized to find
so many sea gulls a thousand miles from the ocean, but
learned that they visit this part of the country regularly
every spring by the tens of thousands on their way to their
nesting grounds farther north. Sometimes a few stay in
Utah and nest there.

They are considered a great blessing in Utah, because
they stay until after most of the grasshoppers are hatched
and destroy them by the tens of thousands. The old set-
tlers will tell you how in the early days the grasshoppers,
really the black crickets, were destroying all the crops,
when one April day in 1850, just as these insects were
hatching by millions, the gulls came in flocks, and de-
voured them and saved the country. They will tell you
that they eat grasshoppers until they are gorged and then
fly to the lake or some stream and drink themselves full of
water when they disgorge the grasshoppers they have

20 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

eaten and then go back and eat more. I know that they
eat grasshoppers for awhile and then fly to the water;
but there is no reason for believing that they lose their
grasshoppers after drinking. None that I have ever watched
lost any. I presume the idea is obtained from the fact
that they eat so much that people who knew little of the
birds thought it impossible that they digested all.

As the season advances most varieties of sea gulls fly to
Northern United States and northward, where they nest
on barren islands. Those who have seen their nesting
places say that they have often found thousands of nests on
a space of only an acre or two. It is when these birds are
going to their nesting grounds that we sometimes see them
flying over the central States. I have frequently seen them
in Iowa and Nebraska, but have never known them to stay
any length of time. In fact, they seldom alight in those
States except where there are lakes. Some species nest
on the coast of Washington and Oregon, some on our At-
lantic coast, while a few nest inland.

But 1 had never had an opportunity to know much about
sea gulls at home until my first visit to Seattle, Washing-
ton. There they are to be found by thousands, especial-
ly from early autumn until late spring. When they were
coming in from their breeding grounds in the autumn I
have seen them arrive by thousands every day. Each
morning it was plain that there were many more than the
day before, and for an hour or two before dark they ar-
rived in a seemingly endless stream. There are many va-
rieties of sea gulls, but the habits of all are much the
same and for the purpose of this story it is not necessary
to tell the differences. We have twenty-two species in the
United States. Those of you who live where sea gulls

'HiHfll'

^-fffin,a

>

.\

/>

CALIFORNIA GULLS GATHERING INSECTS

THE CALIFORNIA GULt 21

are plentiful and wish to know how to recognize the differ-
ent kinds can obtain a government bulletin on gulls that
will enable you to identify at least the most common ones.
The greater part of the readers of this book are located
where sea gulls are not common and for this reason they
will not be interested in knowing much about the differ-
ent kinds.

The gulls are great lovers of the water, and are known as
sea gulls because they frequent the shores of the ocean
■everywhere. Of course we find them on practically all of
the large fresh water lakes. A few years ago my friend
Captain Graham, who has been a salmon fisher most of
his life either on Puget Sound or on Columbia River,
invited me to go with him to lift his salmon nets. Early
the next morning we got into his gasoline launch and
started down the sound to the nets. We did not notice an
unusual number of gulls on the way and even when we
reached the nets and the men began raising them I did not
notice more than an occasional specimen flying about. It
took something like an hour to raise the nets and get
ready to take out the fish. I noticed that as the work pro-
gressed gulls in ever-increasing numbers flew about, ap-
parently much interested in what was going on; but not
being well acquainted with their habits I did not pay
much attention to this, and the fishermen were so used to
their presence that they said nothing. When the scow
was pulled up along side and the men began taking the
fish out of the net, the gulls came from all directions by
hundreds. The fisherman's net in modern days is very
much like those on the Sea of Galilee of which the Sa-
vior said, "The kingdom of heaven is like unto a net
that was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind.

22 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

which when it was full they drew to shore, and sat down,
and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad away.'^

These fishermen had a one-pronged fork not so very
different from the forks a farmer uses in making hay ex-
cept in the number of prongs. With this they took the
fish from the net, sticking the prong through each fish
and Lifting it out of the net — the most convenient way to
handle them. The good fish are thrown into the scow to
go to the canning factory, while those that are not salable
are thrown back into the sea. Most of these are fatally
injured by the fork, and some thousands of the dying fish
were soon floating over the surface of the sound in every
direction.

Then the gulls were happy. They came from every
direction by scores. A bird would alight on a fish and
begin tearing at it with his hook-like bill. If the fish were
dead, all well and good ; the bird would tear off piece after
piece of flesh and eat until the fish became lighter on one
side, rolled over, and tumbled the bird into the water. With
a scream he would rise into the air and again alight on
his fish, but he was always too interested in eating to
keep this from happening again. Sometimes, however,
a bird alighted on a fish that was not dead, and when he
began tearing its flesh of course the poor fish would flop
and attempt to swim away. It was amusing to see the
surprize and apparent fear of the gull when a fish made
a great stroke with its tail and perhaps dodged the gull.
With screams of protest he would hover about, pecking
and tearing at the fish, but usually ended by trying another
victim. It took most of the forenoon to empty the
fish nets. Thousands of pounds of good fish were taken
out, but I am quite sure there were two pounds of worth-

THE CALIFORNIA GULt 2S

less fish in the net for every pound of salable ones. Most
of the gulls had not yet gone to their breeding grounds
and so there was a royal feast for them all day long. I
am sure I never saw so many gulls at one time in my life
before or since.

But fishermen are not lifting their nets every day in the
year, and it is only for a short season that these birds are
enabled to feast on fresh fish as they did that day. Or-
dinarily they follow ships back and forth watching for
the cook to empty the slops from the kitchen into the
water or for some interested passenger to throw food to
them. They eat almost any sort of food. I have seen
them fight as earnestly over potato parings, bread crusts,
and other refuse as over fish thrown into the water. When
the tide is going out they often gather in large numbers
along the shore, feeding on any small creatures that may be
left stranded. I have never seen them eat starfish, but
they will feed on sea cucumbers and small crabs and shell
fish as well as on dead minnows that are washed ashore.
Because of these habits of feeding, those who have tried
to eat gulls tell me that their flesh is so strong and rank
they are not fit for food ; so they are never killed for that
purpose. As they are enormous eaters and are always
ready to pick up anything that is thrown into the sea, they
are valuable as scavengers to the people who live along
the shore. In fact, anywhere in the United States or Can-
ada it is against the law to kill sea gulls. I have never
seen one shot, altho I have frequently seen the stuffed
skins. They are powerful in flight, often remaining on
the wing for hours at a time ; when they tire they settle on
the water to rest. They have webbed feet like the rest
of the swimmers and are consequently able to swim as well

24 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

as any duck ; but their feeding habits are so different that
they do not swim nearly as much as do most of the swim-
ming birds.

You will have no difficulty in recognizing sea gulls from
ducks and geese, but there are some other birds from
which it is not so easy to distinguish them. These are the
petrels and the albatrosses. The albatrosses are all larger
birds than the gulls. They are usually found along with
the gulls and feed in very much the same way, the
they are much more expert in catching food in mid-air.
I have stood on deck and thrown food into the air in full
sight of an albatross that was at least one hundred-fifty
feet away and altho the food had to fall only ten or
fifteen feet to the water the albatross usually managed to
catch it in the air. The gull is rather more slender and
graceful than the albatross, and this coupled with the fact
that it is not so large makes it possible to distinguish it
while in fiight. Most of the petrels on the other hand
are smaller than the gulls, have relatively longer and more
slender wings, and are more graceful and rapid in flight.
They do not come ashore as aften as do the gulls except
when nesting, and are usually seen at considerable dis-
tance out at sea. From the fact that they are distinctly
sea-faring birds they are often called Mother Carey's
Chickens. When the weather is so stormy that the gulls
are forced ashore, the petrels seem to be in their element.
They seem to delight to fly about in wind that is blowing a
hurricane and will even dash through the crest of the
white caps in search of a bit of food. If it is remembered
that they are smaller and that their flight is more rapid and
that they dart up and down more than the gulls, one wiU
soon learn to distinguish them from each other.

CALIFORNIA GULLS

OLD AND YOUNG RING-BILLED GULLS

THE CALIFORNIA GULL 26

Few of the readers of this book will have the privilege
of seeing a sea gull's nest^ for, as before stated, they nest
for the most part either in the far North or on the coasts,
building their nests directly on the ground, often on a
small shelf no more than a foot wide with a steep or sheer
cliff hundreds of feet above or below or both. Of course
during the nesting season they are not common in our
waters except where they breed, but they fly all over the
United States during the rest of the year. They do not
mind the cold of winter, and one sees them following
boats back and forth all winter long in New York or
Boston harborSf

y

THE BLACK TERN

ONE of the most wonderful things about God^s crea-
tion is the wonderful way each object is fitted to the
conditions under which it lives and for gathering the
food on which it subsists.

Among the water birds we have already learned that
there are two great groups, one of which has long slender
legs and as a rule long necks and long bills, just the
things that make it possible for them to catch frogs,
pollywogs, and other creatures that live along the shores
of lakes and rivers where they feed. The other group of
water birds has rather short legs with webbed feet, the web
acting as an oar making it possible for them to swim very
rapidly. Those that feed largely on vegetable matter have
broad bills which they use as shovels for digging in the
bottom of shallow ponds for the tender roots and stems they
like so much.

Others, like the gulls that live largely on meat, have
more or less of a hook on the end of the rather broad bill
to assist them in tearing fish and other flesh-food in
pieces. Since it is often necessary for these birds to
catch their food among the schools of small fish that
swim far out in the sea, they have powerful wings and
are therefore able to fly for hours at a time. In some

THE BLACK TERN 27

ways the terns interest me more than any other water
fowl because their provision for swimming seems ahnost
unnecessary. In fact, I have never been quite able to
understand why they are water fowl at all. They re-
semble the gulls in shape and general appearance, but
are smaller, some varieties being scarcely as large as a
pigeon. All of them have rather long sharp bills, better
adapted for feeding on insects than for eating fish or col-
lecting tender roots and stems under the water.

No bird is more gracefully beautiful than a tern. Every
curve of its body seems to be especially shaped to give
grace and speed in flight, and its wings are strong and
so long that they reach well beyond the end of the
body. It is no wonder these birds delight in nothing
so much as flying. No matter what the weather, they
seem always to be in the air, the mother bird scarcely
sparing the time necessary to brood her eggs.

When I was a boy we had very few terns about home.
In fact, in Southeastern Iowa it is only occasionally that
terns of any kind are seen and those are mostly migrating.
However, I used to make occasional trips further north into
the northwestern part of the State where I found those
birds rather common, especially the black terns whose
story I mean now to tell, because undoubtedly it is the
most widely distributed of our American terns.

It was not till I went West, however, that I became
really well acquainted with even the black tern. I shall
never forget my first trip through " .orth western Ne-
braska and Eastern Colorado — not the first time I ever
rode through on a train, but the first when I had oppor-
tunity to drive over some of this country and become
acquainted with its birds and flowers. I happened to

28 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

get off at a small station and drive several miles into
the country, and to my surprize our road led us past a
cluster of small lakes, the largest covering perhaps one
hundred acres. These lakes evidently were not deep,
for the cat-tails, rushes, and other plants grew in profu-
sion for several rods along the shore. I was surprized to
find these beautiful little lakes where I did not know
there was any water, and was doubly surprized at the
swarm of birds living on their shores. Blackbirds, kill-
deers, curlews, several kinds of ducks, a few gulls, and
black terns were there in such numbers as I have sel-
dom seen anywhere. In fact, I have often said that on
the shores of these lakes water fowl were as thick as the
chickens in the barnyard at home, and many of them
seemed almost as fearless.

It was the last of May or the first of June, I am not
sure just which, and knowing that this was the time
most of these birds would be nesting I could not forego
the pleasure of spending some time looking for nests
and young birds. Here was a mallard duck leading
half a dozen balls of fluffy down into the tall rushes,
and there was a pintail duck, equally bent on hiding her
youngsters among the cat-tails on the other side, while
nests of the red-winged blackbird were to be seen on every
hand. I started to pick my way along the edge of one
of these little lakes when suddenly a black tern began to
circle over my head and scream in the most excited
way. "A-ha,'' I thought. "You have a nest somewhere
near. I wonder if I shall be able to find it.'' I moved
a few feet further and she became more and more ex-
cited every moment, circling closer and closer and scream-
ing louder and louder. Somehow I missed her nest and

THE BLACK TERN 29

when I passed on a few rods she become less excited and
less loud in her protests of anger.

When I was a boy we used to play a game called magic
music. A boy or girl was sent from the room and the
rest of the party agreed on some object which he was to
find on his return. When he again entered the room
some one began playing a violin, playing slowly and
softly when he was no where near the thing agreed upon
and faster and louder as he approached the object he
was to find. Guided by this music alone he was sup-
posed to discover what the company had decided upon.
Now it struck me that this bird and I were playing a game
of magic music. At any rate, had it been her greatest
anxiety to help me find her nest she could not have done
it better. I turned and retraced my steps, when her
outcry became more constant and more excited and again
she began darting close to my head. When I came within
three or four feet of her nest she actually struck my hat
I stopped at once and peering about saw the nest — a pile
of rushes and reeds apparently dumped with no par-
ticular order in the edge of the shallow water among
the rushes. She had not even taken the trouble to wallow
a respectable depression in the top of this pile, but had
merely laid her three eggs together on the top. I never
have been able to understand how she could brood these
eggs; first, because there were so many openings in the
under side of the nest that I do not see how she could
keep them warm, placed as they were only four or five
inches above the water; second, I do not see how she
could hover and turn them, as every bird must turn her
eggs, without their rolling apart if not into the water.

Her eggs must be wonderfully vital and capable of

so KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

hatching at a comparatively low temperature, for not
only is she handicapped by not having a warm nest in
which to brood them^ but she is so fond of playing in the
bahny air that she seemingly finds little time to sit.
I have never seen a black tern sitting on her nest. Un-
doubtedly she does so, but when or how I am imable to
say. Audubon, that great authority on birds, tells us
that both the male and the female sit and undoubtedly
he knew what he was talking about, but certainly neither
sits long enough to grow tired. We are told that it
takes seventeen days to hatch a black tern's egg. When
the eggs are hatched the young birds are such a wonder-
ful mixture of brownish black and other neutral colors
that it is almost impossible to see them, and, more than
that, by the time they are three days old they do not
hesitate to slip into the water and swim away and hide
under the bank or among the rushes whenever the nest is
even slightly disturbed. Their parents feed them mostly
on water spiders and other water loving insects, but do
not hesitate to add to their bill of fare butterflies, grass-
hoppers, dragon-flies, and any other insects that may come
handy. The parent birds seem to be in the air almost
all the time, flitting and circling about hither and thither
and back and forth hunting food. As they can catch
that swiftest of insects, the dragon-fly, in a fair race, and
as they feed on any of the flying insects, doubtless they
have little trouble in picking up an abundance of food.
However they do not hesitate to feed on grass and on
land-living insects when occasion demands.

The black tern raises only one brood each summer,
tho if the first nest is broken up it will build another.
The young develop their wings quickly and are soon

THE BLACK TERN 31

able to look after themselves in the matter of flying
and catching food. These birds are abundant over the
northern part of the United States and the southern part
of Canada from Northern Ohio to the Pacific coast. I
have seen them in the breeding season in Michigan and
northern Indiana, and they occasionally are found as far
south as the northern part of Missouri, tho certainly this
is rare. With the return of fall they fly to the seashore
and unite with the great flocks of gulls and other terns
that congregate there for the winter, becoming active fish-
ers. I do not think they do much fishing during the
summertime, but in the winter they are often active in
picking minnows out of the water even at a considerable
distance from the shore. In Florida and the other guK
districts, however, they undoubtedly catch a great many
insects even in winter.

Terns in general and the black tern in particular are
birds evidently intended by the great Creator for our
pleasure. They do no harm in any way, living as they
do along creeks, ponds, and lakes. Doubtless the in-
sects on which they largely feed are not the ones that
would do our crops much injury, so we would not class
them among our most beneficial birds; but it seems to
me that it is nothing short of barbarous to sacrifice the
lives of millions of terns, as has been done in the past,
merely to ornament women's hats. Fortunately the law
now gives them protection, and it is to be hoped that be-
fore many years we shall again see them in the great num-
bers in which they existed thirty or forty years ago about
the streams and ponds of the Dakotas, Minnesota, Colo-
rado, and adjoining districts.

S2 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

Key to the Families of Longipennes

Rynchopid.« — Skimmers.

With the lower mandible much longer than the upper.
Larid^ — Gulls and Terns.

With the lower mandible not longer than the upper, and with the upper

mandible in one piece.
Stercorariid.« — Jaegers.

With the upper mandible composed of three pieces, one a saddle-like

basal portion.

Key to the Families of Tubinares

DiOMEDEiD-E — Albatrosses.

With the nasal tubes separated and situated on sides of the upper

mandible.
PRocELLARiiDiE — Pctrels and Shearwaters.

With the nasal tubes united and situated on the top of the basal

portion of the upper mandible.

^mm^f^mm^k^mm^tM

YOUNG DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANTS

YOUNG TERNS
(See Chapter 5)

iVI

THE DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANT

SOME birds, like some people, do not always follow the
good and wise habits of their forefathers. The cor-
morants evidently belong to this class. Having feet similar
to a goose's and a body that closely resembles that of a
duck, they have lost the custom of eating roots, grass,
grain, and the tender shoots of plants and turned to be
meat-eaters. The bill, altho not broad at the base like the
duck's, is stout throughout its whole length and is hooked
like that of a bird of prey. Cormorants differ from loons
and many other diving birds in that they retain strong
powers of flight and are able to rise out of the water almost
as easily as a goose or a duck.

Doubtless because they find a better supply of food
there, they are confined largely to the coast and are there-
fore not found inland except on suitable bodies of water.
They live during the summer time mostly on the islands
off the coast of Labrador and Newfoundland, where they
congregate in great numbers. They are especially numer-
ous in those parts of the country that are so sterile and
forbidding that no man lives there and only occasional
fishermen come. They nest preferably on high rocky
cliffs, but they also build nests by the thousands along the
shore out of reach of tidewater. Other forms of this

33

34 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

species breed on the Pacific coast and on the large lakes
of the Far West.

The old birds gather dead weeds, a few sticks, moss and
seaweed by the bushel and often build their nest as much
as two feet high. The nests are built about as close to-
gether as they can be placed, these birds seemingly feeling
more secure when close together.

Audubon, who visited the nesting grounds, tells ns that
when his boat landed, the parent birds all rose together and
flew out to sea, alighting well out of range of their guns,
where they remained until his party had finished their
explorations and left the nests. He says he found young
birds of all sizes as well as eggs, which makes it plain
that these birds do not all nest at the same time. When
they drew near to the nests the young birds which were old
enough to do so promptly scrambled out of the nest and
huddled together in little groups of fifteen or twenty,
while others hid themselves in the crevices and crannies in
the rock. They tried their best to flatten themselves out
against the rocks and earth so that they would be as in-
conspicuous as possible and then crept along very much as
I used to do when I was trying to creep up on game. Not
being possessed of both hands and feet as I am, they did
their best by using their wings, their feet, and even their
bills in pulling themselves along over the surface.

If any one approaches closely they begin to make their
necks writhe very much like the writhing of a snake. As
Audubon says, this motion has such a snakelike appearance
that it is positively revolting, nor does the resemblance
end here. No sooner does the intruder get close than the
birds begin hissing loudly and continuously. They doubt-
less feel that they will be able to frighten away their

THE DOUBLE-BREASTED CORMORANT 35

enemies, and probably they are sometimes able to do this.
Not so with the fishermen, however. That fishermen are
used to a rough, sea-faring life, and as they must make
their living from the fish they catch they are always anxi-
ous to secure an abundance of good bait. They made it
a practise to land on the cormorant's nesting grounds and
kill the young birds by the hundreds or even thousands,
using them for bait in their sea-fishing. It seems strange,
but fish, when they are looking for a delicate tit-bit, often
prefer the creatures that live on land to those that live in
the water, just as most carnivorous animals and birds often
prefer fish to other animals.

These birds ordinarily lay two to four eggs, which, if
they were thoroughly cleaned, would be of a greenish color
like a duck's ^gg. As it is they are usually covered with a
whitish deposit and are often so plastered with mud and
filth that it is difficult to tell the real color. When the
young birds hatch they are queer, ugly little creatures,
covered with a muddy black down. They are helpless,
being blind for more than a week. For perhaps two weeks
the mother birds feed them by emptying their own stomach
into the throat of the young bird. When the bird is old
enough to see well and is beginning to be quite well
feathered, say by the time he is two weeks old, he should
weigh about two pounds.

Now the mother begins to place whole fish in his mouth
and allows him to tear them up for himself. In a few days
she will cease taking even this much trouble, but will lay
the fish on the side of the nest or on the ground by the
nest and expect the young bird to get them when he is
hungry. The young grow very rapidly, but they stay in
the nest, or at least do not leave it for more than a short

36 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

time, until they are able to fly, or at least swim well. As
soon as they can fly, they are deserted by their parents, who
seem to feel that now they should be able to look after
themselves.

The favorite food of the cormorant is fish and other
small aquatic animals near the shore, and they eat also
thousands of young cod and other fish. Feeding as they
do, their flesh is never used for food. In fact, even their
eggs are so strongly flavored that the flsherf oik who collect
the eggs of gulls and other water birds for food never
think of eating the cormorant's eggs.

In the late fall the birds migrate to the coast of north-
eastern United States. In flight, one not used to them
might mistake them for large ducks as they usually fly in
a straight line as the ducks fly. Sometimes, however, they
form a V shaped line like wild geese.

This cormorant is dull grayish-brown on back and wings,
black with a faint greenish sheen elsewhere. On his head
in the breeding season are two plume-like tufts of feathers
which curl forward, making a conspicuous double crest,
which gives the bird its name, the double-crested cormo-
rant. We have several varieties of cormorants, but the
double-crested one and its sub-species is the one most
generally seen in our country but is not the most beautiful.
As his habits are very similar to those of the other mem-
bers of the family, it is not necessary to tell the story of
the others.

VII

THE WHITE FISHER

WHEIT I was a small boy I was sometimes allowed
to accompany my older brother on a duck hunting
expedition to Skunk Eiver^ two or three miles away. We
usually got away from home before daylight and walked
with the expectation of reaching the ponds by sunrise, for
that is the time at which there is the best chance of getting
wild ducks. One spring we had not been able to get away
from home and go hunting as often as we wished, which
would have been a great many times indeed. I am
ashamed now that I ever went hunting at all in the spring,
for at this time birds are so intent on love making and
nest building that they do not have a fair chance; and
besides a bird killed at this time means several more
that they might have reared that season.

Along about the last of April, after most of the ducks
and geese had gone north,, some one told us that there was
a flock of ducks staying in the crabapple pond. That was
very interesting news, for hunters had long since gone to
the more profitable business of plowing for corn, and so
we boys were sure that our chance of securing some of
these ducks would be very good. As there were not so
many hunters along the river, we thought it would not
be necessary to go early in the morning; so after break-

87

38 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

fast we did up the chores about the place, got on old Phoebe,
Brother John riding in front and carrying the gun, and I
behind, and started for the river. It was an uncommon
thing indeed for us to be allowed to go duck hunting on
horseback, but we had promised that if we might take H
horse we would get back for dinner and that brother would
plow in the afternoon.

We reached the vicinity of Sellar's pond about nine
o'clock in the morning, tied old Phoebe to a tree, slipped
into the field, and began creeping on hands and knees
toward the pond. There was a high hill rising abruptly
above Sellar's pond on the side away from the river, and
we were on the brow of this hill. This gave us some ad-
vantage, for a bird sitting on the water a hundred feet
below is not so apt to notice objects on the top of the hill
as those that are somewhere near the level of the water.
There was a small clump of buck brush just on the brow of
this hill, and we crept up behind this. When we were able
to see the water below, we both gasped with pleasure and
excitement, for on the far side of the pond were five giant
white birds as big as small sheep. To our excited eyes
they looked as large as cows.

Neither of us had ever seen any birds like these at any-
thing like close range before. They were snow white, all
but the quill feathers of the wings, which were black, mak-
ing a black bar across the side of the body. The body was
large and plump and the neck comparatively short. I say
comparatively, because it was not nearly so long as the
neck of a swan, the only water bird anywhere near their
size; but the thing about these birds that attracted our
attention most was their enormous bills. These bills were
nearly a foot long, and had a tremendous pouch under the

THE WHITE FISHER 39

lower mandible that looked as though it might hold a
gallon of water. We were close enough to see them very
clearly. I whispered^ ^What are they?'^ and John an-
swered, "Pelicans.'^^ We had a few times seen great white
birds fly silently over head, flapping very slowly yet show-
ing great strength and power of flight, and had been told
that they were pelicans. In fact, father and mother had
told us that in the early days, when they first settled in
Iowa, pelicans were common along the river ; but that was
in the days gone by, and only on rare occasions had any
one in years seen one in those parts, much less known
them to alight. True, only the year before we had been
surprized to see a flock of more than a hundred fly over,
and father had taken this occasion to tell us wonderful
stories of the days when pelicans used to nest on Holmes
Lake and keep the ducks and geese and even the swans
away from their neighborhood.

We watched these birds for several minutes, forgetting
all about the wonderful opportunity of shooting them.
They evidently were hungry, and had alighted in this pond
because it was well stocked with minnows. At the lower
end there was a sort of slough through which at high water
the river ran across the field to the Crabapple pond a few
hundred yards below. This shallow neck narrowed down
almost to a point. Evidently those pelicans had not been
long on this pond, or else they had roosted there and, hav-
ing fed to the full the evening before, were just getting
ready for breakfast. At any rate, though they had heen
quietly floating on the water when we first saw them, an
old pelican suddenly raised his head, flapped his wings and
started swimming across the pond toward this shallow neck.
The other pelicans very quickly fell in line, swimming

40 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

three or four feet apart, moving very much as a company
of soldiers would move in making a charge. When they
came to where the water was shallow they evidently began
to see fish, or now they quickened their pace, and began
beating the water with their great wings, making it splash
in every direction as all bore down toward this shallow
point. We watched in breathless interest until they drove
down to where the water was scarcely deep enough to swim
in, when suddenly they ceased their rapid advance and
begun scooping their great bills down into the water. A
pelican would use his bill as I would use a small net when
catching minnows. Making a rapid scoop through the
water, then closing the bill just tightly enough that no
fish could escape, would raise his head and allow the
water to run out. Then he would swallow the fish he had
caught and make another scoop.

They worked very rapidly for ten or fifteen minutes,
moving forward to the very point of the little neck of water.
Of course I never know how many fish they caught,
but I knew the trick they had practised very well, for we
small boys had learned that when we wished to catch fish
in a minnow seine, if we formed in line across a stream and
move forward, splashing the water and making a com-
motion, the frightened fish would run ahead, and when
the proper time came we could use our coffee sack seine
and catch dozens of minnows. It seemed wonderful to us
that these birds should have learned this trick and were
wise enough to work in concert.

By the time the birds had chased the minnows down
into the lower end of the pond and our curiosity had been
satisfied by watching them fish, they were out of range of
our old army musket, which had been reamed out to make

THE WHITE FISHER 41

a shot gun. We were not wise enough to lie still and wait
until they came back into range^ but brother told me to
lie still and watch and he would creep down the brow of
the hill till he got within gunshot. He started on this
expedition, but had gone only two or three rods when the
pelicans, having finished their fishing, turned about and
started to swim back up the pond. One of them spied
his head and the end of his gun above the skyline and
gave utterance to a low noise very much like that you
make by blowing into a large bottle, and without more ado
they all took flight. We watched them go down the river
and disappear behind the crabapple grove on the bank of
Crabapple Pond. Supposing they had alighted in this
pond and resumed their fishing, we followed.

We spent most of the forenoon following these birds
from pond to pond and it seemed to me that we must
have crawled miles on our bellies in the vain attempt to
get within gimshot again. They apparently were not
wild, for they never flew far at a time, merely going from
pond to pond, but for some reason or other they were on
the alert and saw to it that we never again got within
gunshot. Once or twice during the morning a flock of wild
ducks flew overhead within range; but we were stalking
pelicans, and the desire to kill one of them was so strong
that we would not shoot at smaller game lest the noise
of the gun frighten away the larger birds that we hoped
to get a little later.

When noon came and we had to go home, the only thing
we had to take with us was a wonderfully interesting story
— which is, after all, the most valuable thing a hunter
can get. The next day father determined to go to the
river and get one of these pelicans. He had long since

42 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

given up duck hunting, but pelicans were different. Ac-
cordingly he shouldered his gun and tramped to the river
before daylight. Along about one o'clock in the after-
noon he came home carrying five or six wild ducks but
reported that he had not seen any trace of the larger birds.

Evidently they had gone north during the night.

These were the last of their kind I ever saw until I went
to Utah some ten or fifteen years later, in the year 1898.
I spent two years at Provo City, which is situated near
the beautiful fresh water Utah Lake. This lake is some
twelve or fifteen miles wide, and has a small rocky island
near the middle. The island is neither more nor less
than a low mountain rising from the bosom of the lake. A
number of pelicans nested regularly on this island. It is
in such places that they always prefer to live. They either
nest on some high rocky point or select a low or high rocky
island at some considerable distance from the shore, usually
choosing an island that has no human inhabitants. There
they build their nests by merely making a shallow depres-
sion in the ground or by making a heap of earth and lining
it with grass and feathers or sometimes with sticks and
rubbish. Their eggs are very large, among the largest of
the eggs of birds which live in America.

I used to like to go down to the shore of Utah Lake of
an evening and watch the pelicans. They seldom fish in
flocks during the mating season. In fact, while others
claim that they usually fish in flocks, I never had the
good fortune of seeing them do so except as I have
described above. Utah L-ake was so full of minnows and
fish of all kinds that perhaps it was unnecessary to fish in
bands. At any rate the usual procedure was for an old
pelican to come flapping across the lake, flying very low

THE WHITE FISHER 4S

so that he might easily observe any fish in the water below.
At the upper end there were a number of small streams
that flowed into the lake close to each other. At the point
where these streams entered, the water was shallow for a
considerable distance, and was grown up with rushes and
cat-tails. No one could wade here and it was too shallow
to go with a boat. Among these reeds thousands of small
fish played during the hot summer days, for not only was
there food abundant but they were safe from larger fish.
The pelicans always headed for this part of the lake. Here
a single bird could drive the minnows into a nook and
quickly catch them. When the old bird had eaten all he
wished, he would fill his pouch to the brim and lazily fly
over to the island to feed his young.

I have never had the opportunity of seeing one of these
birds feed its young, so I do not know how it is done ; but
I do know that one day a pelican flew reasonably near and
a friend of mine who was with me in a boat shot at him.
Of course he did not hurt the pelican, but it was fright-
ened so badly that it dropped two or three fish out of its
pouch. We rowed quickly to where those fish fell to see
if they were dead or alive. We knew that if they were
injured they would be found floating on the surface of
the water, but as we could find nothing of them we were
convinced that they were uninjured.

The white pelican is no longer found over the greater
part of the United States, except during migration,
altho in the early history of this country it was found
much more extensively. It is recognized by its giant bill
with a large pouch beneath. Several varieties are often
seen in our city parks^ but our American species differs
from all of the others in that it has a bony protuberance

44 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

on the top of the bill during the breeding season. The
pelican is one of the largest of North American birds. He
is still found in numbers in the Yellowstone National Park,
where he nests on the islands in the Yellowstone Lake, and
at isolated localities in the Western United States.

Key to the Families of Steganopodes

Phaethontid^ — Tropic-birds.

With the head wholly feathered and the nostrils easily seen.

Anhingid.e — Anhingas.

With the head not wholly feathered, the nostrils not easily seen, the
bill slender and sharply pointed, the tail and its feathers rounded.

SuLiD^ — Gannets and Boobies.

With the bill stout but not hooked, the tail more or less wedge-
shaped and its feathers more or less pointed,

Freg.\tid^ — Man-o'-War Birds.

With bill distinctly hooked, tail forked, and space around eye feathered.

Pelec.\nid^ — Pelicans.

With bill having a large pouch beneath, extending to the tip of the
lower mandible.

Phalacrocoracid;e — Cormorants.

With bill narrow and distinctly hooked, a small throat pouch not
extending to the middle of lower mandible and the tail not forked.

Fully Webbed Foot of one of the Steganopodes

yiii

JOHNNIE GREENHEAD

THE boy had been wandering up and down Skunk River
all one Sabbath morning in the hope that he might be
able to surprize a ''^thunderpump'^ (or bittern, as I would
probably now call it), and so be able to learn just how
he makes his thundering noise. The old hunters of the
neighborhood differed so widely in their opinions on
this point that the boy had made up his mind that there
was only one way to decide the matter — to see for himself.
The morning was bright and the sun was doing its best to
warm everything into activity. Squirrels scolded in the
trees, flowers bloomed on the ground, and birds were singing
everywhere. In fact, it was just the kind of day that calls
man to worship in "God's first tabernacles,'' the woods.
There being no convenient church privileges, the boy's
parents believed that no boy ever receives any impression
other than those of reverence and good when alone with
nature, and so did not hesitate to let him go to the woods
at any time.

Suddenly, not far from the old willow mill, the noise of
a "thunderpump" was heard. The boy knew this bird must
be on the shore of the river just around the bend and
determined to creep up, making no noise, and catch
it unawares. Slipping through the underbrush as quietly

45

46 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

as possible, he poked his head over the edge of the bank to
see this "thunderpump'' disappearing around the bend of
the river above. Disappointed and tired from his long
crawl, the boy dropped on the sod and began looking about
with no purpose in particular. Finally his eye rested on
a hollow snag, perhaps a hundred yards away, just in time
to see a wood duck enter the hollow. The boy had never
been told that the wood duck differs from most ducks in
that at times it not only lights in trees, but actually nests
in hollow trees, so of course he was interested.

While he was watching this hole and wondering whether
it were possible to catch the duck while she was inside, as
he had sometimes been able to catch mother screech owl
or father redhead, the woodpecker, the duck flew out of
the hole with something in her mouth. This was stiU more
amazing to the boy. He had seen crows carry eggs in their
bill, but a duck — who ever heard of such a thing as a duck
carrying anything in its bill? And granting that ducks
do carry things in their bills, what could this duck have
found in a hollow tree? Surely ducks do not rob birds*
nests.

But he did not have to speculate long, for this mother
of the forest, unaware of his presence, flew toward the high
bank on which the boy was resting, where the river made
a bend and the water was perfectly quiet — at least no
current was noticeable. As she came near, the boy was
astounded to see that she was carrying a baby duckling in
her mouth. Flying to within some ten feet of the water,
she dropped her burden and started back to the tree. The
baby duckling dropped into the water without injury and
began paddling round and round not more than fifty feet
from where the boy lay. In a few moments, the mother

JOHNNIE GREENHEAD 47

returned with another duckling which she dropped in the
same way. Now the two ducklings swam round and round
together while the mother went back for a third. This
was kept up until fourteen baby ducklings had been
dropped into the water, when the mother herself alighted
and led them across the river to where the water was
shallow and the reeds were plentiful, where they began
to feed.

This certainly was to be a red letter day for the boy.
He not only had learned that the wood duck nests in trees,
but had been so fortunate as actually to witness her carrying
her brood to the water, now that they were old enough to
require food and not to be injured by swimming in the
water.

Some Sabbath days, if the weather was fair, the boy
stayed in the woods most of the day, and he decided that
this was going to be one of those days. After spending
two or three hours watching this mother wood duck feed
her babies, he followed the river up to the mouth of
Wymore^s branch and decided to follow this creek home.
Not far from where this creek runs into the river in those
days there was a small marsh, no more than a rod or two
square, in which bulrushes and sweet flags grew. The boy
was fond of chewing sweet flag root, calamus he called it,
and he decided to get a piece of this root. Carefully
picking his way from tussock to tussock in order to reach
the finest calamus bed, he was startled by seeing a mother
mallard duck fly out of a clump of rushes. He had been
told that wood ducks occasionally still nested along the
Skunk River, but to find a mallard's nest was a surprize
indeed. In this nest were a dozen green eggs a little larger
than a hen's ^gg. The boy put them into his hat, that con-

48 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

venient receptacle in which he carried everything that he
found in the woods from strawberries to mud turtles, and
trudged home with his treasures, determined to set them
under his old duck-legged hen, that wonderful mother-
chicken of his which had grown so old that she seldom laid
more than a few eggs in a clutch, and could always be
pursuaded to sit by merely placing her in a barrel with
a nest full of eggs and covering her up for a day or two.
This hen had not only incubated but cared for birds and
fowls of every description for the boy, from barred owls and
red-tailed hawks to quails, guineas and peacocks. It
would not be a hard matter to induce her to become foster
mother to a flock of mallard ducks. In fact, it was doubt-
ful whether this mother hen would^ ever know that her
wards differed from the domestic ducks that she was
accustomed to care for every summer.

On reaching home, the eggs were put in a large dish
in the cupboard with the expectation they would be set in
the morning. The family cooking was done in a wood stove
that stood not more than three or four feet from this cup-
board, and of course the air in the cupboard was warm as
a result of getting the evening meal. When the doors were
closed for the night, this air would remain warm until
morning.

Next morning, when breakfast was about ready, the good
mother as usual called the boy to help by setting the table.
Opening the cupboard to get the dishes, what was his sur-
prize to find not his duck eggs, but twelve fluffy, little
ducklings. All had hatched over night. No matter, mother
hen could be induced to take care of almost any kind of
orphan, whether she were sitting or not; so she was placed
in a coop with these ducklings and given a dish of water

MALE AND FEMALE MALLARD

MALLARD DRAKE
Photo by Frank C. Pellett

CANADA GOOSE
(See Chapter 9)

JOHNNIE GREENHEAD 49

and some com meal mixed with sand and enough water to
form a stiff crumbly dough.

Those babies of the wood were exceedingly shy. In fact,
there is nothing more surprizing than to see how different
are the actions of newly hatched domestic fowls from those
of wild birds of the same kind. Whereas newly hatched
domestic ducklings would have been content with this
chicken mother and would have remained with her as
readily as with their own mother, this was not true with
these baby mallards. It was only with difficulty they were
persuaded to accept her care. In time they became tame
enough to allow themselves to be fed by the members of the
family, but they were always shy when strangers came about
and were continually running away from their foster
mother. When they grew older, one after another dis-
appeared. Whether they died or ran away or were stolen,
the boy was never quite sure, but when fall came, only
Johnnie Greenhead remained. His companions gone, he
gradually accepted the company of the domestic ducks ; and
as they were greenhead ducks themselves, probably descend-
ants of mallard ancestors of less than a hundred years
before, he came in time to feel quite at home with them.
Having been fed the best of everything from babyhood, he
grew to be a giant of his race. Not only was he larger than
a wild mallard, but larger than the largest of the domestic
drakes in the farmyard.

The boy's mother was a provident soul and believed that
ducks and geese should be picked several times a year,
for were not feathers necessary if one desired a warm, com-
fortable bed or good soft pillows? When picking time
came, all of the victims resented the operation more or less,
but to Johnnie Greenhead it was a tragedy, the more so

60 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

perhaps because he not only had his body feathers plucked,
but the quills were pulled out of one of his wings. This
latter was to prevent his being able to disappear as had his
fellows. Picking ceased, however, about the first of Octo-
ber, for fowls must have an abundance of warm feathers
during the cold Iowa winters.

When the wild ducks came trooping southward from the
nesting grounds of northern Iowa and Minnesota, Johnnie
often flopped his wings and tried in vain to join them ; but
it was of no avail, for no bird can fly with one full wing
and the other plucked.

By the time he had grown wing feathers the ducks had
long since ceased passing over, so he settled down with more
or less content for the winter. By spring every one took
it for granted that Johnnie was fully domesticated, and he
seemed to share the general opinion. At least he seemed
contented to stay with the flock that spring and summer,
and for that matter the next fall and winter. No one
thought of keeping his wings plucked any more. But
Johnnie brooded over his troubles every time he was picked,
and finally he began to lead the flock to the brook that ran
past the wild grape arbor and the crabapple thicket. No
one thought much of this, for it was the custom of the
farmstead to pen the ducks every night during laying sea-
son and not to give them their liberty until eight- or nine-
o'clock the next morning, by which time all the eggs were
laid. The rest of the day they were allowed to run at will,
for the mistress believed that ducks always do better if
they are allowed to swim and feed in the water at least a
part of the day, especially during the breeding season.
Johnnie became still more resentful when one day, as
a result of his leading the flock to Wymore's Branch, a

JOHNNIE GREENHEAD 61

half mile away, they were shut in the horse lot and were
not allowed to go to the brook to swim. Evidently the
love of freedom was fast coming to outweigh the feeling
of security and the love of plenty of good feed at home, or
was it that Johnnie had no idea of the hardships of the
wildhngs ? However this may be, late in April he decided
to leave his friends and the only home he had ever known.

One bright morning, just at daybreak, he rose into the
air and flew straight toward the river some two miles away.

It was fortunate for Johnnie that the weather had
come off warm and fair and every one was busy sowing
oats or plowing com. Had he decided to leave ten daya
earlier, when there were hunters stalking every pond and
every bend of the river, his fate would have been certain,
for his training had taught him that the instinct to fear
man was only a delusion.

With a glad quack he lighted in the crabapple pond
and began swimming around and feeding on the lus-
cious water grass that lined the shore. If only the rest
of the flock had come with him he would have been per-
fectly happy, but he was not so sure about being alone.
But as he was growing lonesome and was hesitating in his
mind whether he ought to return to the farmstead or remain
where he was, a lone duck, one of his own race which had
her wing injured by a stray shot and so was left behind
by the flock but had sufficiently recovered to be able to
fly again, chanced to light in this pond, and this settled the
matter. Both were overjoyed at the meeting. For two or
three days they remained in the vicinity, every day Johnnie
Greenhead learning more wisdom from his new found
friend. Finally, both growing more strong of wing and
sure of themselves, Johnnie permitted himself to be led, as

62 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

every wild husband does, by his bride, in search of a nesting
place. Out into the open blue they flew, mounting higher
and higher until they were well above the range of the
best guns, and then through the biting cold air on their
journey northward. With a speed that would carry
them many a mile every hour, it did not require long
to bring them to the lakes and marshes, where his wife
informed him they were to stay for the summer. Already
they were two weeks behind time, so without many prelimi-
naries they established a home on a point that projected
into a shallow marsh lake. The female wallowed a hole
in the ground among the tops of a fallen tree, carefully
lined it with grass and with down plucked from her own
breast, and soon a new pearl was being added every day to
the treasure trove it contained.

Others of their race were nesting at different points
around this lake, and it was from these companions that
Johnnie learned much of his wisdom. In the farmyard
he had learned to fear nothing except being caught on
picking day. Even there he had learned that if he could
escape from the flock and manage to hide under the straw
in the old straw pile or to creep into the dried leaves caught
by an old brush pile whenever any one attempted to drive
the flock into the barn, he could escape; and when the
picking was over he might return to the flock in safety,
for the mistress would not go to the trouble to catch and
pick only one duck.

He had learned that when a dog comes about, one is
pretty sure to be safe if he pays no attention to it, for then
the dog takes it for granted that he belongs where he is;
but he had had no experience with wolves, the wild dogs of
the forests. One day a woK wandered by where Johnnie

JOHNNIE GREENHEAD 53

was feeding and when his mate hastily swam into the deep
water, Johnnie totally ignored his presence as he had
learned to do to a dog in the farmyard. He did not realize
his mistake until the wolf sprung for him, but luck was
with him. The creature fell just short of the mark and
Johnnie escaped with the loss of only a handful of feathers.
All of his hatred of being picked now centered around the
sight and smell of a wolf. Never again would he sit still
and allow such a creature to approach.

When there were ten eggs in the nest, Mrs. Johnnie
began to sit. Now Johnnie was disconsolate. In the farm-
yard the ducks never hatched their ovm eggs and to be left
alone was a new experience. For two or three days he
stood about the nest or paddled about in the water near
by. His mate, after carefully covering her eggs with down
and grass, left the nest for a few moments every day to
feed, but then she was too preoccupied to be a good com-
panion. When one fortunate morning he learned that there
was a drake's club organized by the heads of the mallard
families in the neighborhood who found themselves in the
same fix he was, he joined at once. He quickly fell into
their way of making this one long gala day, visiting every
nook on the lake and feeding to the full. From them he
learned to dive to escape from hawks and to dash into
the first brush possible when pursued in the air. He
saw a companion which could find no cover when pur-
sued, overtaken by a hawk that tore his throat open and
carried him away lifeless. His wife, however, did not feel
slighted by his absence, for she felt much safer alone while
sitting, for then she could crouch in the grass which exactly
matched her color and not be seen. Anyway, he soon lost
so many feathers that he could not fly for two weeks or

54 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

more, so he would have been only a source of worry had he
stayed about home. His wife, because of sitting, escaped
this midsummer molt.

But when, in twenty eight days, his wife led ten
ducklings to the water's edge, Johnnie's cup of happiness
was full to the brim. Perhaps because of his train-
ing on the farm, he joined her at once and together
they swam away through the reeds and rushes bent on
finding the best feeding grounds for the youngsters. An
old hawk that was nesting in a great tree at the upper end
of the lake had been watching for some days for just such
an event, and her keen eye caught sight of the procession as
it swam down the lake. With a cry of exultation she flew
toward them, feeling confident she was soon to dine on
warm duck. The mother duck had been trained from
babyhood to be on the lookout for danger on every hand
and she saw the danger approaching first and with a sharp
''quack, quack'' of warning to the little ones, who led by that
strange instinct that tells the wildling what to do as soon as
he is out of the egg, scurried away to hide under the bushes.
Not knowing what else to do, Johnnie followed and from
his hiding place saw the great hawk swoop down to catch
his beloved mate. She was on the alert and just as the
hawk was within an ace of striking her, she struck the water
with her wings and threw up a shower of water, deluging
him and disappeared beneath the water to come up a hun-
dred feet away ready to renew the struggle when the hawk
struck again. After this was repeated three or four times
and the wild mother felt sure the bewildered hawk had lost
all thought of the family, she dived and came up in a
clump of cat-tails out of sight of the hawk. The baffled hawk
flew back to his lookout at the upper end of the lake and

JOHNNIE GREENHEAD 65

the mother duck rejoined the family. Then keeping under
the shadow of the bank, she swam around the bend out of
sight and quietly resumed feeding.

But hawks were not the only enemies against whom these
mallards had to contend. One day the mother duck
swam out into the deep water and part of the babies fol-
lowed her. Suddenly there was a lurch and a splash and
one of the ducklings disappeared down the throat of a
mighty pickerel who had been sleeping in the deep below.
She got her family into the shallows among the reeds
and rushes as quickly as possible. Not for three weeks
did she again dare to cross this deep, and by that time the
ducklings were too large for a fish to eat.

Those weeks while the ducklings were small enough to
be eaten by large fish were full of anxiety to the mallard
family. So long as they remained concealed in the rushes
they were safe from hawks; but several times a wandering
coyote came near, and the sure danger that could be seen
caused them to forget the danger that was not seen and
the flock scurried into the middle of the lake. This was
precisely what the old hawk was looking for; and twice
she carried away one of the ducklings, and a fish accounted
for another.

The nights were even more to be dreaded. It was unsafe
for the flock to roost in the middle of the lake, for the
large fish are much more active at night than by day. On
the other hand several coons and mink hunted the shores
of the lake every night, and every one of these animals liked
nothing better than duck, young or old, and would not
hesitate to swim half way across the lake if need be to
secure it. Had it not been that there were a dozen other
families of ducks on the shore of the same lake, and had

56 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

there not been an abundance of fish for the mink, of craw-
fish for the coons, and of frogs for both, no doubt there
would have been none of Johnnie's children left by the
time they were a month old. As it was a mink got two and
a coon one before they were large enough to roost with
safety in the middle of the lake, and it was a happy time
for Johnnie Greenhead and his spouse when at the age of
six weeks their remaining family were able to fly, for now
they were not only able to escape from their four-legged
enemies by flight, but were on a more nearly equal footing
with the duck hawka

Every dawn they flew away from the lake and surveyed
the surrounding country, sometimes swimming or feeding
in one of the many lakes of the vicinity. According to
the traditions of their race, the parents taught their family
to rise high at once on taking flight and to fly above the
range of a shotgun. Moreover, they taught the equally im-
portant habit of circling over a place and examining it
carefully before alighting. Their excursions led them far-
ther and farther away until they were well acquainted with
all the country for many miles about.

One dawn, while flying over a small pond near a cabin,
they saw some objects in the water that looked like
ducks. Forgetting their usual caution they settled, almost
to the water's edge, when there was a flash and a deaf-
ening noise and Johnnie and several of his family felt
the sting of shot in their flesh. Fortunately the shot
were small and the ducks were at the opposite of the
pond. None were killed, but for days they were sore.
Johnnie had learned the lesson of decoys, a lesson most
ducks never learn, and never again would he make
the mistake of alighting without carefully examining

JOHNNIE GREENHEAD 67

every inch of the ground, even tho other ducks were
there.

Soon this little family were joined by a flock of ten
youngsters whose parents had been caught by the old
hawk at the head of the lake. Autumn was here and the
wild rice was ripening everywhere. Then for hours they
would swim among the wild rice, securely hidden from
their enemies, and reaching up they would let the ripe
grain literally run down their throats until they could hold
no more; or if fancy directed, they would suddenly poke
their sensitive bills deep into the mud, turn their tails
straight up, and feel about for small animal life or sweet
roots. Tho these ducks are practically vegetarians, they
sometimes vary their diet by eating some of the small life
that crawls on the bottom of shallow ponds. When fed
to the full they became happy and spent much time in
noisy clamor or in half running, half flying, diving and
splashing about in high glee, for mallards are the most
playful of ducks; but always one of the parents stood
guard against possible danger.

Finally winter came and froze the lake and covered the
wild rice with snow. The teals, among other birds, had
long since departed for the Southland. But not until grim
necessity required did Mrs. Johnnie announce the time of
departure for the South. When they passed over the old
home Johnnie wanted to stop. In fact, they did settle in
the brook by the old grape arbor, the only ducks I ever
knew to alight on the farm. The boy was in the grove
and slipped up behind the wild gooseberry bush to watch.
There was Johnnie, easily recognized by his large size,
with his family. All seemed perfectly at home save
one old duck, doubtless the mother. She could not share

68 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

Johnnie's feeling of security, for she had not been raised
there.

The boy, in his interest, leaned out too far and this
mother saw him. "Quack, quack,'' clear and sharp as a
bugle's blast, and the flock rose like a flash and were gone I
Tracks about the corn pen showed, however, that Johnnie
brought his family home once more that night to feed at
his favorite dining place before they departed into the
great unknown.

IX

JIMMY THE GOOSE

ONE day late in April the boy saw a flock of geese
settle in the pond in the large woods pasture not
far from the river. This particular flock of geese had been
late in starting north, and as the farmers were already
busy putting in their crops, they were not bothered. The
boy alone knew of their arrival. As he watched them day
after day from his hiding place in the bushes, he began
hoping they might stay all summer. He had no gun and
was careful not to tell any one else of their presence.

Every morning the members of the flock showed great
impatience with the leader because she persisted in stay-
ing about this pond; but as food was plenty and the days
were pleasant, by the time she was ready to lead them to
the nearby feeding grounds they had quite forgotten their
impatience and were glad to spend another day in the
green wheat field beyond the woods. Before the end of the
week one old goose and her gander had decided to remain
for the summer. After investigating every clump of bushes
and brushpile within a hundred yards of the pond, a place
was selected under some bushes in the corner of a rail
fence enclosing the pasture. A depression was wallowed
out in the earth and a little grass piled in it. When this
was lined with down and feathers it constituted the nest.

When three or four days later the homesickness of the
leader of the flock who had been hatched here was some-

60 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

what abated, and he decided it was time to hie away to
the northern breeding grounds, two eggs had already been
laid in this nest, and of course no mother would leave her
prospective family, so this pair stayed. When there were
six eggs in the nest, the boy told his secret to his mother,
who promptly removed them and placed them under a
sitting hen in the chicken house. Realizing at last that
a mistake had been made, the pair of geese followed the
call of the north, and built their second nest on the banks
of some lake in northern Minnesota or Southern Canada;
but the boy had their eggs and thirty days later they
hatched into six fuzzy brown goslings. For a day or two
these young goslings were exceedingly shy, but as the only
thing they ever received from the hands of man was plenty
of food and tender care, before long they were as tame as
any domestic goose could be expected to be.

The summer passed imeventfully, four of the goslings
growing into adult geese. All fall and winter they were
contented to swim in the pond, oi* to sit about the bam
lot eating com from th'e crib and clover hay from the
stable; but when the call of the north brought the wild
geese honking northward the next spring, these geese
would answer every flock that passed over. One morning
in March three of these geese could stand it no longer, and
took wing and joined a flock that was passing over. Jimmy
by some mishap or good fortune, according to whose view-
point you take, happened to be in the com crib at the
time, and the door had been blown shut. When he heard
the commotion and realized that his mates were leaving,
his loud cries of protest filled the air, for he wished to
go along. The boy, when he heard the unusual honking,
came out of the house just in time to see his pets depart-

JIMMY THE GOOSE 61

ing. At the suggestion of his mother he cropped Jimmy's
wings before letting him out of the crib.

Jimmy was forlorn for days, but finally made up for his
misfortune by hanging about the house and making friends
with the good mother. TVlien she sat by the window sew-
ing, Jimmy was quite sure to station himself on the out-
side. He would sometimes sit for hours just outside the
window, watching her as she was about her work. She
had the habit of tapping on the window to call .Ti m m y
when she was ready to feed him. In time he associated tap-
ping on the window with food, and from that time, when
he wished to be fed, he would come to the window and tap,
tap, t-ap with his bill until the desired food came.

There was an old lady in the neighborhood who always
raised a large flock of geese and sold feathers. For years
she had believed that if she could get a strain of half-breed
wild geese she would not only secure more feathers, but
when selling time came she might be able to sell the birds
as wild geese for a high price. Accordingly she would not
be satisfied until she owned .Ti m m y.

Aunt Leah possessed a donkey as well as her geese.
Jimmy took no interest in her geese at all, but stayed by
himself in the donkey's pasture. At first he was furious
every time the donkey would bray, and the donkey resented
Jimmy's noise every time Jimmy grew lonesome and
honked. Sometimes the donkey would try to stamp on
Jimmy, but he was too quick for her, and it usually ended
by the donkey whirling to kick at Jimmy, who would
grasp her by the tail and pound her with his wings. Often
he would chase her all over the pasture in this way. But
both were lonesome and in time grew to be the closest of
friends. Wherever you saw the one the other was sure to

62 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

be. Jimmy and the donkey fed together and slept together
a whole year. In cold weather when the donkey found a
protected place to lie, Jimmy sat at her side or even
warmed his feet by sitting on her woolly coat.

Remembering the experience of the first spring, Jimmy^s
wing was cropped every year early in February, lest he
leave when his own kind began to come north.

A new source of unhappiness came into Jimmy's life
when the donkey was sold and taken to Nebraska to work
at plowing. Jimmy was utterly disconsolate for a few
days, and wandered over the pasture all day long, honking
from sheer loneliness. One evening a flock of geese heard
him and spent the night with him eating the young ten-
der blue-grass. "When they left shortly after sun-up, poor
Jimmy tried his best to go along, but his poor cropped
wing would not permit. After this, never a honking flock
passed over in his hearing that he did not spread his
wings and try to follow.

One day Aunt Leah bought two buxom young gray geese
and brought them home. They were not adopted by the
flock but soon got over into what had been the donkey
pasture. In vain Jimmy had tried for days to find his
beloved donkey. When his own kind had stopped with
him, he had spent one blissful night dreaming of cool
lakes, succulent food, and a flock of goslings in the far
north. But something was wrong; try as he would, he
could not rise high in the air, and at best could fly only
in short circles and tumble to the ground. Every day he
tried, always hoping that when the next flock passed over
he could join them, but already the maples were coming
into leaf and no more wild geese were going by.

Seeing these homesick strangers wander into his realm.

JIMMY THE GOOSE 63

his heart went out to them. His decision was quickly
made. He ran to them with a cry of welcome. The attrac-
tion seemed mutual so he mated with both, and then was
perfectly contented to remain on the farm and finally to
run with the flock. For several years he lived the life
of a domestic goose, and Aunt Leah, feeling sure that he
would not leave his humble mates, never afterward went
to the trouble of cropping his wing. He became the father
of many hybrid geese that at first were the joy of Aunt
Leah's heart, but when she found that they were mules
and would not breed, her interest waned. True, they were
handsome geese, larger than either parent. They had the
beautiful black head and upper neck of the Canada wild
goose with a larger and heavier body. Their feathers were
flexible and thick like those of their wild parent, with an
abimdance of down — just the kind of feathers to delight a
feather merchant. Nevertheless finally they were all sold
to the butcher, and poor unfortunate Jimmy was placed
in a city park where he remained, apparently desolate, the
last I heard of him.

You may be interested to know more about Jimmy's
relatives. We have several species of wild geese in our
coimtry. Jimmy was a Canada wild goose. Those geese
are especially characterized by the fact tha*t the upper
part of the neck and the head are black with large white
cheek patches. They are active birds and fly long dis-
tances, often flying fifty or sixty miles in an hour. They
still breed by the thousands in some parts of the North-
land. When I was a boy I have seen them in huge flocks,
especially on the Eepublican and Platte rivers in Nebraska.
In our old home in southeastern Iowa it was a common
thing for these birds to alight in the wheat or cornfields

64 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

to feed, and they often spent the entire winter on the
Skunk river, roosting wherever they could find an open
place in the ice, flying back and forth from the fields to
the river every day. They usually did their feeding in
the late evening or the early morning, leaving the corn-
fields soon after dawn. When flying they form a V-
shaped line, the same bird usually flying at the point
of the V and leading the flock.

Often they are hatched and kept on the farm for years,
but they do not breed well in captivity, tho sometimes they
become really domesticated. It is wise, however, to keep a
wing cropped to prevent them from leaving in the early
spring or fall. Like all of the geese, in the surmner they
feed largely on grass, snails, crawfish, and such things as
they can get at the edges of the ponds, but in winter they
depend largely on seeds and grains. Very few of them
now breed in the United States, except in the Yellow-
stone National Park, where they are protected, and in a
few other localities; and if their breeding places are
crowded farther north, they may become extinct in our
country.

X

LADY JANE THE SWAN

THE warm south wind has been blowing now and
again for weeks, and already the snow was gone ex-
cept a few great drifts in the north side of the woods near
the creek. Claytonias, anemones, and bloodroot were vie-
ing with each other to see which could attract the atten-
tion of the earliest bees. Eobins and bluebirds had come
trooping north in untold thousands, and every few min-
utes the boy playing in the yard would hear the honk,
honk, of wild geese and a long V-shaped line would come
in sight on the southern sky, soon to fade away in the
north, while wild ducks were seldom out of sight more than
a few minutes at a time. The country was quite thickly
populated, and most of the water fowl, growing wise, had
decided to go on to the lakes of Northern Iowa and Min-
nesota in search of new nesting grounds. Already the
trumpeter swan had begun to be so scarce as to attract
attention whenever a flock passed over.

A few miles north of the forks of Skunk Eiver was a
pond which at high water covered several thousands of
acres and even in the middle of the summer was more than
a mile across. This pond, known locally as Holmes Lake,
was never deep even in the middle, and over much of it
a man in high top wading boots could safely wade. Sweet

65

66 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

flag, rushes, and cat-tails lined the shore and here myriads
of minnows and pollywogs played or hid tinder sunken,
logs or clumps of broken reeds. The nearest farms were
two or three miles away, and so it is small wonder that
some of the bolder of the water fowl hesitated to desert
so ideal a home for unexplored regions beyond.

Suddenly the boy was attracted by a loud clear trumpet
call like the blast of a French horn, and almost at the
same time a voice was heard crying ^^swans.'' Soon he
saw a dim line approaching which gradually broke into
twenty large birds with long necks stretched far ahead
and legs sticking back beyond the tail. Even tho
they were high in the air, they flashed white as snow in
the sunlight. The boy did not have long to watch so novel
a sight, for the giant birds flapped their wings with a
steady beat that carried them many miles an hour. It
was not many days until the rumor went around the neigh-
borhood that a flock of twenty swans was hanging about
Holmes Lake. Every hunter in the neighborhood nibbed
up his old gun, and at the first opportunity tramped many
a weary mile in hopes of gaining the fame of killing a
swan. But these birds were no novices. Years of experi-
ence had taught them wisdom, and when com planting time
came and the hunters had to turn farmer no hunter could
boast of a single trophy.

As the days passed, one pair after another of these
swans grew restless and, when they could not get the flock
to go, quietly slipped away into the northern sky. At
last only two pairs were left, but they refused to leave so
delightful a feeding ground.

At some distance from the shore was a small island,
with just a few scrubby bushes growing on its banks. After

LADY JANE THE SWAN 67

much consultation a pair of swans wallowed a shallow de-
pression in the earth under one of these bushes, lined it
with rushes, weeds, and grass, and inside this built a nest
of softest down plucked from the mother's own body. Here
was deposited a great white egg larger than the largest
goose egg. The next day the other pair set up house-
keeping under a bush not ten feet away. Every other
day the mother swans laid an egg until there were eight in
each nest, when they settled down to brood their eggs. For
thirty days the mothers spent most of their time sitting on
the nest dreaming the dreams of any normal mother, slip-
ping off only for a short time every day to gather a
hasty meal from the steaming waters, while their discon-
solate mates spent much of the time loitering about look-
ing like a married man in a department store on bargain
day.

Tho the mother left the nest for only a few minutes,
she always saw to it that the eggs were covered with down
to keep them warm and that enough grass and reeds were
scattered over all so to make the nest look like any other
spot on the island; for she welj knew that when a wild-
ling leaves her nest there is no knowing how long she
may be compelled to delay her return, and there is no
telling what prowling thief may visit the spot in her
absence.

One day early in May Dad Oswalt, as he was riding
past the lake, was surprized to see a swan fly out of the
tall rushes and a number of fluffy balls of down scurry to
cover as fast as their little legs could paddle over the
water. He had no time to stop, but registered a vow that
he would realize a lifetime ambition of owning a pet
swan. Not many days afterward he took the boy and rode

68 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

over to Holmes Lake. Quietly slipping through the bushes,
they came upon the shore unexpectedly, and sure enough
there were four old swans and a dozen young, leisurely
feeding near the bank. A swan would thrust its long
neck full length under the water and strip off the tender
shoots on the rushes and flags, or catch insects, pollywogs,
snails, or any other eatable thing that came handy. It
was a pretty sight to see a great white bird thrust its long
neck under the water and stand with its tail in the air
with bubbles coming up every few moments showing where
it was feeding. First one foot and then the other would
paddle a bit to help the bird keep its balance or to hold
it under the water. Dad did not want to shoot any of the
birds and had no canoe. He had hoped to catch the birds
feeding on the land and by a bold rush secure some of
the young before they could get into the water, but altho
he and the boy spent most of the day hiding about the
lake, the swans, led by that good spirit which protects the
wildling, kept well away from the shore.

One thing occurred, however, which interested the boy
greatly. Along in the early afternoon a great snapping
turtle, quietly slipped off a log and started swimming
toward the swans. Both Dad and the boy watched intent-
ly. Quietly it moved with only its head sticking above the
water until within perhaps twenty feet of the happy family.
Then it settled down till only the tip of its nose could be
seen. Stealthily it moved forward till within five or six
feet, when it disappeared. In a moment a young swan
gave a flop and a squawk and disappeared under the water.
The wily old turtle had risen from beneath and catching
him by one foot had settled to the bottom, pulling the
poor bird under, allowing the water to finish the story.

THE TRUMPETER SWAN

LADY JANE THE SWAN 69

When the swan was drowned the turtle could feast at lei-
sure.

Very many young wild geese, ducks, and other water
fowl lose their lives in this way where turtles are abun-
dant. In fact, I have a friend near Euthven, Iowa, who
decided to make use of a small lake near his house by
raising ducks by the hundreds, expecting the ducks to live
on the abundant food on its shores. As soon as his young
ducks were allowed to go to this lake the turtles began
catching them, and soon had caught so many that he
gave up the attempt and sold the few remaining duck-
lings.

Early in the fall. Dad Oswalt came back to the lake de-
termined to get a young swan. They were just learning to
fly. After trying in vain to catch one, he finally shot it in
the wing and it fell some distance from the lake. It was
injured badly enough so that it could not fly; but when
he tried to catch it, he found that he had a real battle on
his hands. Even a young swan will weigh from twenty to
twenty-five pounds, and its wings are quite powerful. The
swan put up a terrific fight, biting and pounding with its
wings until Dad feared he would have to kill it after all.
Bruised and bleeding, he finally subdued the bird, and
tying its wings over its back, took it home. Binding up
the broken wing with a splint he placed it in a pen and fed
it as one would a goose or a duck.

Those who have never seen a young swan doubtless do
not realize that they are not the beautiful, white bird we
often see gliding over the lakes in our city parks. A young
swan is not white at all, but an ugly brown, and a young
trumpeter swan remains that color until it is almost a year
old. That explains why the young can so quickly disap-

70 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

pear among the rushes and cat-tails in the lake, for even
before they are feathered they have that peculiar dull tint
of brown that blends with almost everything in nature.
This saves many a young swan from being caught by hawks
or coyotes. The coyote has a keen sense of smell but does
not locate his prey by this means alone. "When a young
swan is down wind from a coyote it can remain among the
rushes and be perfectly safe as long as it sits quietly. The
old swans do not have this danger, for no hawk is large
enough even to hope to kill a swan and a coyote must be
brave indeed to make the attempt. A swan's beak is ex-
ceedingly powerful, and, driven by the long neck, can
strike a powerful blow. More than that, the wings are so
strong that they are able to break the bones of even a
coyote if they strike him squarely.

Dad Oswalt named his swan Lady Jane. Lady Jane
had been in her pen only a few days when Beaver, a six-
months-old pup discovered her whereabouts. Now Beaver
never stopped to question whether this young swan was
an intruder or not. It was merely something new, and
even tho it might belong to the master, surely it would
do no harm to have a little fun at its expense. Accordingly
he jumped into the pen and rushed on Lady Jane with
the full intent of frightening her out of her wits and having
great sport wallowing her and pulling her feathers, as he
had sometimes done with a chicken in the barn lot. Sev-
eral well administered lessons had taught him that chick-
ens were not to be bothered in this way, but no one had
said that he must not play with a swan. He would take
the chance, anyway. Grandmother saw him bound into
the pen, but kept out of sight and watched to see what
would happen. Lady Jane had not lived on an island and

LADY JANE THE SWAN 71

seen her mother chase off the coyotes for nothing. She
did not even think it necessary to hiss at this awkward
puppy, but raising herself to full height and throwing her
head well back, she haK raised her wings and waited.

Beaver did not quite like the turn events were taking.
He had taken it for granted that she would run as soon
as he came near; but he was no coward, and evidently it
would be necessary to teach this bird a lesson in manners,
for no bird had the right to consider itself above fearing
a six-months-old pup. Hesitating a moment, he sprang
straight at her, meaning to catch her by the neck. While
he was in mid-air out darted the long neck, driving the
hard beak full into his face, cutting an ugly gash and
knocking the pnppy howling to the ground. The swan
was not willing to stop here, tho the puppy would have
been glad to call it enough. Catching him by the back
of his neck, she beat him with her wings till he fairly
howled with pain and fright.

As soon as he could get free the thoroughly frightened
puppy ran howling to the house. Both pup and swan
had learned a lesson. Nevermore would the pup bother
a great strange-looking bird, and the swan knew how to
fight dogs.

Lady Jane soon became so gentle that she was allowed the
freedom of the place. She seemed to feel perfectly at
home, and seldom showed any disposition to wander. There
was a small pond near by where she could satisfy her ap-
petite for swimming and fishing, and there was plenty of
corn about the stable. What more could a swan desire?

She soon became much attached to the master. Even
before she had put on her grown-up plumage she followed
him wherever he went. It was a comical sight to see the

72 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

old man get on Betsy, his racking mare, and start for
town with the swan chasing behind, trumpeting and flap-
ping her wings. The bird never flew in order to keep up,
but ran behind flapping her long wings. Sometimes if he
rode too fast she would catch the horse by the tail and
hang on, flapping her wings, and touching the ground only
every few rods. When the old man went into a house Lady
Jane had to content herself by sitting on the outside, or, as
she more often did, by waiting at the side of Betsy, and
wo betide the dog who dared to disturb either. More than
once some over-ambitious dog, attracted by the novel sight
of a swan following a man on horseback, gave chase. But
he always went back a sadder but wiser dog, for Lady Jane
looked on the intrusion as a personal insult which she
felt in duty bound to avenge. Strange to say, never once
did she come out of the fracas second best, for no dog
ever proved quick enough to dodge her lightning beak
or to escape the terrible hammering of her mighty wings.

As spring came on Lady Jane grew apace. When fully
grown, she weighed over forty pounds and could eat corn off
the brim of Dad Oswalt's hat when the hat was on his
head, and Dad Oswalt was a man six feet tall. ISTow she
was snow white, all but her feet and legs and bill. These
were black. The bill is longer than the head, and is flat
like that of a goose or a duck. Yet where it joins the
head it is thicker than it is broad. This is true of all
swans.

Lady Jane could swim faster than any one could row a
boat or paddle a canoe. She seemed to like to race in
this way, always managing to keep out of reach without
getting so far ahead as to discourage her pursuers.

As spring drew on, she developed a desire to fly. She

LADY JANE THE SWAN 73

never tried to rise out of the water as a duck would, but
ran or swam forty or fifty yards in the wind, flapping her
wings before finally taking the air. It is doubtful whether
this great bird can rise into the air without this prelim-
inary run. It is certain Lady Jane never did.

When the wildlings began to come north, Lady Jane
became very restless, and trumpeted a great deal. She
would take long flights, but by sundown was always sit-
ting in her own pond, with her long neck curled over her
back with just her black bill sticking out of the feathers —
the only black spot on a ball of snow.

One morning, just at sunrise, all were startled by a
regular trumpet concert. Some were trumpets as heavy
as a bass horn, others were as shrill as a flute, and there
were all notes in between. One who has never heard such
a concert can scarcely imagine its power. These swans
can trumpet as loud as a professional horn player. In
fact, their voices can be heard for two or three miles.

Peeping out of the window, the boy saw a large flock of
swans sitting in the pond. They had doubtless been at-
tracted by Lady Jane. Immediately a gander started mak-
ing love to her, and she acted perfectly delighted at find-
ing others of her kind.

The flock stayed about the pond most of the forenoon.
When the flock left. Lady Jane hesitated, but when they
circled back over the pond calling, she finally followed.
!No one ever again saw her so as to identify her, tho
one night in autumn a flock of swans spent the night in
the pond where she had lived so long and some of them
helped themselves to the corn in the crib.

Of course you have already guessed that swans are
web-footed swimming birds, belonging to the Anseres.

74 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

Their sub-family name is Cygnince. The trumpeter swan
is now almost extinct in the United States. One day, early
in March, 1920, I was crossing the campus of the Nash-
ville Agricultural Normal Institute at Madison, Tennes-
see, when I was startled by the almost forgotten note of
this bird. Scanning the sky, I located two trumpeter
swans. They came almost directly over my head and passed
out of sight to the northwest. They seemed almost like
phantom birds, echoes from the dim past. I have often
wondered where these two birds came from and where
they were going. Their summer feeding grounds changed,
their winter feeding grounds no longer safe, the race has
all but given up the struggle. It is to be hoped that these
lone wanderers found safety in some place, and that they
may live long and become the progenitors of a large fam-
ily, for the trumpeter swan is one of the most beautiful
of our many valuable birds.

We have in America another wild swan that is smaller
than the trumpeter swan. It is known as the whistling
swan. Many of the swans we see in our city parks are of
neither kind, but are of European origin.

XI

lTHE shitepoke

OUR home farm consisted of two ^'eighties" that cor-
nered each other. The buildings were located on one,
the other was mostly pasture. Wymore's Branch, a beau-
tiful little creek in those days, cut across the pasture
^^eighty,'' and a high hill rose abruptly from this creek on
one side while the other side was a low-lying bottom. A
slough ran lengthwise through this eighty, meeting the
creek just before it left the farm. There was a very
valuable spring in this slough which flowed as freely in
the dry time as it did in wet weather. Near the place
where the slough ran into the creek was an acre or two of
land that was usually swampy from the overflow of this
spring. The creek itself was deep enough to be the fa-
vorite fishing place of the small boys of the neighborhood,
and our best swimming hole was just at the lower edge
of our farm.

We usually had a potato patch and garden truck growing
on the bottom land near this spring, and so business or
pleasure called me there several times a week throughout
the summer. Mother and I used to take our lunch and
walk down to this garden and spend the day. We did
plenty of work; but, wise woman that she was, mother
knew that the way to get plenty of work out of a small

75

76 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

boy was to allow him a play time as well. Consequently
after lunch at noon we often went down to the creek where
mother told stories of the wonders of her childhood days
in the mountains of Tennessee.

Sometimes I would wade down the creek and leave
mother sitting on the bank. It was on one such occasion
that I first saw what to me was the queerest looking bird
I had ever seen. About fifty feet from the old swimming
hole was a very peculiar knoll about forty feet in diameter
that was so very symmetrical that I am now inclined to
think it was a mound of the prehistoric mound builders.
In fact, I have made up my mind that the first -time I get
back to the old home, I am going to dig into this mound
and find whether it is a prehistoric mound or just a knoU.
A few feet from this mound was a small round pool about
the size of the mound itself. This pool was always full
of poll}'wogs, crawfish, and small minnows. As it never
went dry, minnows that found themselves stranded there
after the creek had overflowed its banks could always
find plenty to eat until an opportunity came to leave dur-
ing the next high water. This bird was standing on one
foot at the edge of this pool, as immovable as a stick.

The first thing that attracted my attention was his very
long, slender legs and his even longer slender neck. His
bill, too, was long and pointed, and he wore a crest on the
back of his head that stuck out like a plume. As the sun-
light flashed over him he showed wonderful shades of green
and purple, but when a cloud came over the sun his head
and wings and back appeared almost black. It was by
the merest accident that I noticed him before he saw me,
and curiosity coupled with a knowledge of the wildlings,
led me to stand perfectly still and watch him. I do not

THE SHITEPOKE 77

think I was more than fifty feet from him, but as I had
been walking along the edge of the creek, my head being
lower than the bank, he had not seen me nor heard the
sound of my bare feet on the mud. It seemed to me that
we stood there an endless length of time, for no reason
that I could understand unless it could be that he was
asleep, and because I was so anxious to see what he was
about I stood almost as still as he — ^which probably ex-
plains why it seemed so long. Finally, like a bolt of light-
ning out of a clear sky the long neck darted forward and
the bill and most of the head flashed under the water.
Quicker than I can tell it, he straightened up with a craw-
fish in his bill. I was fisherman enough to know that if
one expects any luck with the finny tribe he must be quiet
when he is fishing, but I have never been able, even to
the present day, to know why he prefers to stand on one
leg with the other drawn up tight to his body when fish-
ing. I was so surprized that I made an exclamation suffi-
cient to attract his attention and away he flew up the
creek, keeping near the water so that his body would not
be seen above the sky-line. A comical sight he presented,
his long legs dangling, his neck sticking out ahead, and his
great wings, large out of all proportion to the size of his
body, slowly flapping. I followed as rapidly as I could
imtil I reached the place where mother was sitting, eager
to call her attention to the bird before it could get out of
sight. To my inquiry of ^^What is it?'^ she said, "A shite-
poke,^^ and she presumed a pair of them must have a
nest somewhere in the swamp near the crabapple and plum
thicket, just over the fence, in the edge of Graham's brush.
"We went back to work, but after that every time I got
a chance I would slip down to the creek and watch this

78 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

odd bird and his mate. I founds however, that it was no
easy task to slip up on them without being observed.
Usually the first I became aware of their presence was
when I heard a peculiar croaking grunt and saw them
awkwardly flying down the creek. Sometimes, however, I
was fortunate enough to observe their fishing. It was
always the same old story, the bird never tried to follow
up and catch his prey. Instead he always stationed him-
self at the edge of the creek, or, more frequently still, on
the bank of this little pool, his favorite fishing ground,
and watched for his prey to come near. The shitepoke
must be a bird of wonderful patience for I have known
him to stand immovable as a post for more than an hour
at a time. He was so absolutely immovable that it seemed
impossible for him to be awake ; but always, sooner or later,
I was startled by the lightning-like dart of his long neck.
He certainly is an expert spearsman, for never once did I
see one of these birds fail to catch his prey. Sometimes
it was a minnow, sometimes it was a tadpole, but more
often it was a frog or a crawfish. I do not know whether
this was because he especially preferred them to any other
food or whether it was because they were more plentiful. If
he was fishing for his own dinner he promptly whacked his
prey against the ground two or three times and swallowed
it; but as the summer came I found he very frequently
would beat his prey until it was dead and lay it on the
bank until he caught something more and then taking
both in his long bill, would fly lazily down the creek. Of
course I was anxious to find his nest, and as I knew he
was carrying food to his young, I sought long and ear-
nestly. But I was under the impression that a bird with
so long legs as he must necessarily nest on the ground,

THE SHITEPOKE 79

for certainly, it seemed, no nest placed in a tree could
accommodate such, dangling legs. I had been told that he
was a heron. In fact, while father and mother both usually
called him a shitepoke, they knew that he was a green he-
ron; but neither had seen a nest and both supposed he
nested on a tussock in some swampy place like most of the
waders. I tramped over the swamp ground in the neigh-
borhood of the plum and crabapple thicket time after time
to no effect.

I think I have already told you that I had been taught
that there is a great tribe of waders, so called because of
their long legs, and that they are fishers which live in
shallow swamps and on the banks of streams. I had also
seen a picture of a flamingo's nest, and was under the
impression that all of this family built mud and grass
nests on the ground like the flamingos.

I watched these birds for five years before I was suc-
cessful in finding their nest, and when I did find it, there
were five nests all within thirty or forty feet of each other,
the oldest one almost rotted and falling out of the tree.
Evidently there was a nest for each of the five years I
had watched the birds. Lest you make the same mistake
as I did, I must tell you that the nests were in very thick
brushy crabapple trees about ten or twelve feet from the
ground. They were of the size of a very large crow's nest
and were built of sticks. The top of the nest was larger
than one would naturally expect for so small birds, doubt-
less because their long legs make a bigger nest necessary
than would otherwise be needed.

There was another mistake I made for several years.
There is a similar bird not quite as large and not of the
same color, but so shy that I have seldom been able to

80 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

see him except at a distance, but I did hear his unearthly
noise. This is a bird we knew locally as the thunderpump.
In reality this bird is a bittern, and he fishes along the
banks of streams very much as did my green heron; but
he feeds more like a duck, putting his long bill down in
the mud and feeling about for worms, snails, and anything
he may be lucky enough to find. He gives utterance to a
heavy rumbling noise that can be heard for a long way.
As both birds lived along this creek, and as the thunder-
pump was so shy that I did not get to see him when I
would creep up carefully to find out what was making
the thundering noise and as I often found the shitepoke,
I was sure that he was the bird.

The shitepoke is found over a very large part of our
country. He does no harm, living as he does a quiet se-
cluded life and feeding on snails, small fish, etc. In the
Middle States he is probably the only long-legged bird any-
where near his size that you will find in such locations.
Of course there are other herons of similar appearance;
but they, instead of being twelve or fourteen inches in
height, are two or three feet tall. The shitepoke is found
in secluded places and deep in the woods about ponds or
along streams.

Key to the Families of Herodiones

PLATAI.EID.E — Spoonbills.

With the upper mandible grooved to the tip, the bill broad and
spoon-shaped at its end.

THRESKIORNITHID.E IbiSCS,

With upper mandible grooved to the tip, but with bill narrow and

bent downward, not spoon-shaped at its end.
Ardeid^ — Herons.

With the upper mandible not grooved to the tip, the neck and most

of the head feathered, and the hind toe on a level with the others.
CicoNiiDiE — Storks and Wood Ibises.

Like Ardeid*, but with the head and part of the neck bare, and

the hind toe elevated.

THE GREEN HERON

XII

THE SILENT DANCER

ONE day late last spring, as I was walking across the
campus toward my class room, I was startled by
hearing a long-forgotten sound. It came like an echo of
former days and brought with it a flood of fond mem-
ories of childhood. I stood still in my tracks and began
scanning the Southern horizon as I had done hundreds of
times in my childhood for my long forgotten friends.
Presently the cries came again and I succeeded in making
out a dim line of birds circling in the southern horizon.
Higher and higher they mounted for perhaps ten or fifteen
minutes and then started on north straight toward me.
Nothing that I had seen for a long time was so great
a surprize, or gave me so much pleasure, except the sight
of the two trumpeter swans mentioned elsewhere in this
book. Fortunately I succeeded in calling several persons
to witness the sight.

By the time the birds were directly overhead they had
fallen low enough that one could see their long legs stick-
ing out behind and their equally long necks and bills
sticking out in front. When they were almost directly
overhead the leader gave a signal and they all broke rank
and again started circling in order again to gain height
before making another dash northward. They circled

81

82 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

about until they were so high that they were almost out of
sight and then the leader gave the signal and started north
again, and before they had gone a hundred yards all had
fallen into line. Every bird seemed to know his place
and promptly flew directly to it. Sandhill cranes, for
this is what these birds were, usually fly in a V-shaped
line, but it differs from that of the Canadian wild goose in
that one side of the line is very long and the other very
short. Some wise old bird, usually a gander, flies at the
point of the V and usually no more than two or three fall
in almost directly behind him. The others form a long
line sloping back at angle of about forty-five degrees.

"When these birds are going south in the fall, especially
if they have been surprized by an unusually cold spell,
they fly rapidly, often going two or three miles before cir-
cling, but they never fly long distances without circling, as
they gradually fall toward the earth when flying straight
ahead. In the spring time especially, if the weather is
warm and they come north early and so are in no hurry to
reach their nesting place, they circle very often and tEen
merely sail between times. In the spring I have watched
sandhill cranes for twenty minutes or more from the time
they came in sight on the southern horizon until they faded
out in the north, whereas on a cold fall day they would
cover the same distance in half this time. I do not think
it is because these birds can fly better in cold weather but
merely because they are in a hurry then and so do their
best.

"When I was a boy thousands of these birds passed over
our place every fall and spring. They do not migrate
early in the season, and so we always regarded it as a sure
sign that we would have no more cold weather when we

THE SILENT DANCER 83

saw the first flock of sandhill cranes. These cranes never
nested in our part of the country, tho formerly they
nested in parts of Iowa and Illinois. Later they confined
their nesting to the sand hills of North Dakota and West-
em Nebraska. There are a goodly number of small lakes
in that district, and it was in that region that the sandhill
cranes have made their home for ages. Later still, they
seldom bred even there. The territory lying between the
Missouri river and the Mississippi has always been a
favorite flying place for migratory birds. Located as we
were between the Mississippi and the Des Moines rivers,
we were in the regular beaten path of the sandhill cranes.
From the South they came up the Mississippi river and
then followed the Des Moines directly across the State of
Iowa imtil they came to the Missouri and followed it up to
the vicinity of their nesting grounds. In this way they
could always find plenty of food and water.

As these birds came south in the fall they often stopped
in the cornfields and filled up on corn before going on.
Oftentimes a bluster of cold in the sand hills would start
them southward; but as this cold wave did not reach as
far as southeastern Iowa, they found it convenient to loiter
along the way, as food was more abundant there than
it would be when they reached their winter home. Occa-
sionally they alighted in the wheat fields on their trip
northward in the spring. This was especially true if there
came a few days of cool weather after they had started
north.

We usually think of the long-legged, long-billed birds as
waders, and expect them to feed on fish and other water
animals; but the sandhill crane feeds to a considerably
extent on grain and grasses.

84 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

When a flock of cranes alight, they at once post their
sentinels. If it is a small flock of not more than twenty-
five or thirty, there is often only one that stands
guard, but if, as sometimes happens, the flock numbers
several hundred, there are several sentinels on duty. They
stand bolt upright while the flock is feeding and as they
are almost as tall as a man they have a good view of the
surrounding territory. Perhaps no bird has keener eye-
sight and is more cautious than the sandhill crane. I have
spent hours trying to creep up close to a flock of these
cranes, but I never succeeded. This was not wholly due
to my stupidity, either, for in all the years of my child-
hood I knew but one hunter to kill a sandhill crane, simply
because other hunters could not get within gunshot of
them.

These birds have a peculiar habit of dancing during
the mating season. To a certain extent this custom is
common among the cranes and some other birds, but the
sandhill crane goes about the matter with a seriousness
and a precision that puts him in a class by himseK. My
friend, Mrs. Phoebe Clark, president of the Tennessee,
Kentucky and Northern Railroad, gave me the following
narration of a sandhill crane dance she witnessed some
years ago in the sand hills fifteen miles from Larimore,
North Dakota. She said :

"I was driving with a horse and buggy one afternoon
when, as I rounded the point of a sand hill in full view of
a small creek, I saw a flock of some nineteen or twenty sand-
hill cranes drawn up in a straight line on the prairie per-
haps a half mile from the water. When I flrst saw them they
were standing in a straight line as rigid as a company of
soldiers standing at attention. I stopped my horses at once
to watch them. Presently the bird at the head of the line

0^^^^:--

/

s*

fr

k:

^^?

^ r,4a.-

H^f

THE SILENT DANCER 85

walked out in front of the others and solemnly began danc-
ing. He would hop first on one leg and then on the other,
jump up and down, and whirl about, sometimes flapping
his wings. This procedure continued from three to five
minutes, when he solemnly marched back and took his place
at the head of the line and the bird next to him walked out
and went through the same performance. I sat there for
more than an hour and watched until every bird in the line
had taken his turn and performed his dance. When the
last one had finished, the bird at the head of the line started
the dance over again. After two or three had danced the
second time, feeling that I could wait no longer, I drove
away leaving them undisturbed. During all this time not
one of the birds had uttered a sound."

Shy as these birds are at other times, during their love
making and dancing season they do not seem to station any
sentinels at all, but trust to the God of the wildlings to
take care of them. They nest in rookeries, often large
numbers nesting in a small space. The nests are built in
marshy places on tussocks, often a dozen or fifteen nests
being found in a group. This, however, may not be be-
cause they love to be together so much as because there are
few choice places to nest.

I happened to be camping on the Brazos river, Texas,
in 1903, when the sandhiU cranes began coming in from
the north, and I was surprized at their enormous num-
bers. There was not an hour in the day or night that a
dozen or more flocks did not arrive, and as the new arrivals
were not only noisy but were greeted by thousands of
birds that had already arrived, they kept me awake most
of the night. I had always heard that there are occasion-
ally white sandhill cranes but, until on this occasion, T
had never seen one. I saw three snow white sandhiU cranes
that week. It has been suggested to me that they were

86 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

white whooping cranes that had happened to be with the
sandhills, and of course as I did not shoot any of them I
can not prove that this is not true ; but I saw at least one
of them arrive from the North with a flock of sandhills
and he flew in his regular place the same as any other
member of the flock. I had a good pair of field-glasses
with me and so was enabled to see these birds very clearly,
and was thoroughly convinced in my own mind that they
were white sandhill cranes. This would be nothing un-
usual among birds, for white robins, white grackles, or
even white crows are occasionally seen in this country. In
fact, there was a white robin that lived for three or four
years in Montclair, New Jersey, a residence suburb of
New York City. This bird finally was found dead one
morning in the yard of a friend of mine who told me of
the incident and of the interest the bird had excited in the
community. Even white crows are sometimes seen, and
there is no reason why sandhill cranes may not occasionally
be white. I am aware that no albino sandhill cranes have
ever been reported by an ornithologist, but my father, who
was a keen observer of birds, and knew well the whooping
crane, our large white crane, says he has seen several white
sandhill cranes in the pioneer days when the cranes came
into our neighborhood in countless thousands.

Within the last ten or fifteen years most of the breed-
ing grounds of the sandhill cranes have been settled, and
the same is true of their winter quarters. For this reason
these cranes have become almost extinct. Dr. Harry C.
Oberholser, bird expert of the United States Department
of Agriculture, tells me that there are probably only a few
left, except in Florida. There is a little brown crane, how-
ever, that is very similar to the sandhill, so similar in fact.

THE SILENT DANCER 87.

that it is almost impossible to tell them apart imless the
birds are shot and measured. This crane is still found in
considerable numbers during the migration season and m
winter in different parts of our country.

XIII

THE SORA RAIL

KA-WEET-EEP, Ka-weet-eep-eep-eep-eep-eep, Cheep-
cheep-cheep-cheep. I had slipped down through the
woods and underbrush to a small pond and was sitting half
concealed on a log, listening to the night voices and watch-
ing the fish leap out of the water here and there as they
sprang for the flies that were bobbing back and forth
over the surface of the pond. The twilight was just begin-
ning to gather. The wail of the whippoorwill came from
a rail fence a few rods away, from the tree above a screech
owl called to his mate, while the bull frogs mingled their
heavy bass with the treble of the tree toads and the strident
call of the katydid and of the green grasshopper. From
up the river came the ^Vhoo-whoo^^ of a great owl, while
in the pasture beyond a killdeer was protesting excitedly
because the cows were feeding toward the special preserve
he claimed as his own.

No music is so restful to tired nerves and so soothing to
troubled spirits after the toil and worry of a hard day
than this song of the wildlings, God's chorus of the great
outdoors. To one who has learned to seek and love it
there is no enjoyment more keen and nothing that will
revive courage and give new health and hope so effectively
as to slip off alone into such a nook as this and spend the
eventide. You may talk of the lure of the great white

88

THE SORA RAIL 89

way and the pleasures of Coney Island or similar places;
but to one who truly knows and has learned to understand
something better their appeal, which only intoxicates and
tortures tired nerves and over-wrought brains to madness,
in no way compares with nature's evening entertain-
ments.

Ka-weet-eep, Ka-weet-eep-eep-eep-eep, Cheep-cheep-
cheep-cheep came again nearer and nearer and more ear-
nest than before, and a fantom bird darted round the
foot of a stump and went racing over the sand, picking up
a worm here and a bug there and, like a streak, whisked
out onto the moss and lily pads, never stopping for an in-
stant except to snatch a snail from the stem of a cat-tail
or a crawfish from the shallows beneath. A queer appari-
tion indeed he made with his legs so slim and so long that
he appeared to be running on stilts, and his delicate, slen-
der finger-like toes so nimble that they could take hold of
the driftwood and lily pads as easily as a squirrel clings
to his tree. Even more remarkable was his body — com-
pressed tmtil it reminded me of a croppy or a sunfish. The
Creator truly has adapted each creature to the life he is to
live. The goose, the loon, and the rest of the swimmers
have a broad, flat breast and body so that they will float
easily over the surface of the water. Their body is usually
broader than it is deep. This creature which had so sud-
denly appeared from nowhere clearly was made for racing.
His body was compressed until it seemed to split the air
like a knife blade. He was a sora rail. To one who is
unfamiliar with these birds the expression ^^thin as a rail"
means very little. When we used to split rails from the
oak trees and build rail fences, I could never quite under-
stand why things were spoken of as being as "thin as a

90 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

rail"; but when I became acquainted with this bird the
expression became very striking indeed. I used to wonder
what he did with his food when he swallowed it, for truly
he looked too thin to have room even for his food and his
digestive organs.

With contented "tweet, tweet'' he raced over the lily
pads until he came to an open place and to my surprize
without a moment's hesitation plunged into the water and
swam over to where there were more lily pads and
clambered onto them and went on his way into the dark-
ness beyond. I could hear his contented chirp for some
time, and then suddenly three or four more came running
down the beach and took their way out over the lily pads
as he had done. By frequenting these places I soon became
aware that these birds were nesting in the end of the pond
where it merged into a sort of a marshy place overgrown
with reeds and cat-tails. Here weeds and grass in abun-
dance had been heaped together on a bunch of broken
reeds above the water, making a pile several times as large
as the bird. The surface was hollowed out just enough so
that the eggs would surely remain in the nest.

We are told that these birds sometimes nest some little
distance from the water, even occasionally building in
gardens under gooseberry bushes or in other well con-
cealed places. The bird lays from five to sixteen buif-
colored eggs spotted with brown and lavender. The young
birds leave the nest soon after they are hatched, and take
their part in chasing back and forth among the rushes
and over the lily pads in search of food. They live largely
on the insect life that is so abundant in the water, but add
to this various seeds, wild rice, and an occasional snail or

THE SORA RAIL 91

crawfish. They are exceedingly shy birds, and even tho
they are abundant they manage to keep themselves so well
hidden that many people never see them.

The way to find a sora rail is to not hunt for it, but
quietly to sit down near the bank of a creek, or on the
edge of a pond where such birds are known to live, and
wait for eventide when they appear in abundance. They
are not only found about marshes but are abundant in
old meadows, especially where there are creeks or wet
places near by. They are more easily seen in the later
part of August or the first part of September when the
wild meadows are being mown, for at this time the young
are not yet able to fly and the old birds, being made more
brave by the necessity of caring for the young, are not so
shy. While one is mowing these wild meadows, these birds
are often seen; and when they get into a close place, they
suddenly drop into a hole or depression and lie perfectly
fiat, allowing the mower to pass over, often without ever
being seen by the driver.

These birds may be recognized from others of their
tribe by the fact that they are black around the base of
the bill, this space extending downward on the f oreneck in
front and over the forehead. Their upper parts are olive
brown, with streaks of black running lengthwise, and many
feathers have narrow stripes of white on their edges. The
side of the neck and the breast to behind the eyes are of a
bluish ashy color, with circular spots of white. The middle
of the abdomen and under the tail are white, the sides and
flanks brownish black and white barred. The bill is
greenish yellow and the legs are dark green. The bird is
about eight and a half inches long. He is usually seen

92 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

running rapidly with the tail erect, and is most easily
found in the early morning or late in the evening. He
is discoverable over most of our country, migrating in
the fall, but returning with the approach of warm weather
in the spring. They nest mostly in the north country.

xiy

THE AMERICAN COOT

AFTER the ducks had long stopped nesting along
LWymore's Branch, another bird remained that we
children were taught to call the fish duck. This bird was
also known as the mud hen, I presume because it was usu-
ally found paddling around in the mud at the edge of the
streams or near the shores of ponds; or it may have been
because we occasionally found its nest among the rabbit
ears or cat-tails where the water had dried up, leaving
mud so deep that we youngsters had to roll our pants'
legs above our knees to get to the nest. They were noisy
birds, keeping up a clamor day and night. The note was
a sort of a "Coo-coo-coo-coo-coo-coo.^* The first note
always began on a high key and while the rest were lower
it seemed as if the bird was in a great hurry to get through
with his song. I used to say that if I were a bird and
could sing no better than that I would want to get through
with it, too, but that it seemed to me I would keep still in
the first place.

The last of these birds I ever saw on Wymore's Branch
were in the little pool where I became acquainted with
the shitepoke. I was trudging through the woods with a
twenty-two caliber rifle under the impression that I was
hunting. When on such expeditions I occasionally car-

93

94> KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

ried home a nice bunch of game, but more often I came
home without having fired a shot. I had learned to be
expert in shooting, but never could make up my mind to
kill anything if I allowed myself to stop and watch it for
a time, because it always seemed to be having such a fine
time living that it would be entirely too bad to end so
happy an existence.

I had set my gun down against a tree and was watching
an old mother crawfish which I had forced to release the
youngsters she was carrying under her tail, gather them
up again, one by one, when I heard a "quack, quack,
quack,'' as plain as if it had been made by a duck. I had
never killed any ducks and it seemed a very desirable thing
to slip up on the drove which I felt sure was just around
the bend of the creek and perchance shoot one.

Taking my rifle I slipped along the path that led just
above the old fern bank, and when I came near crawled
as noiselessly as possible to the creek bank beyond the
bend. There was plenty of hazelbrush on this bank and as
people were not accustomed to hunt here I found no diffi-
culty in reaching the bank of the creek only a few yards
from where I expected to find my ducks without being
discovered. Cautiously peering up and down the creek I
saw nothing. Then it occurred to me to look in the pool
and surely enough, no more than fifty or sixty feet away
were a pair of fish ducks or, as they should be called, coots.
They were swimming about without the least suspicion
of fear, having just the best time possible catching tad-
poles. No fish had been left in this pool the last time
the creek had flooded, and an old warted toad had selected
this place to lay her eggs and consequently there were
young toad tadpoles here by the hundreds if not thou-

THE AMERICAN COOT 96

sands. More than this, two or three meadow frogs had
elected to lay their eggs there also and their tadpoles were
abundant.

It did not take me long to recognize that these were
not ducks, or at least were not the kind of ducks that I
desired to kill. One very noticeable feature was that
their bills were almost white and showed very conspicu-
ously against the glossy black head and neck. In general
the birds were a dark bluish color, the wings tipped and
touched with white. The bill was not so broad as the bill
of a duck and evidently was better suited for catching
living creatures than for eating grass.

In fishing they were very active indeed. Instead of
standing on their heads with their tails and heels in the
air like a duck they made short quick dives, often only
putting the head and neck under the water but sometimes
submerging entirely. I watched them for some time, for-
getting all about shooting. Finally becoming more inter-
ested I attempted to move to a new location where I could
see better, when they discovered me and flew away, strik-
ing the water with a tremendous splatter of wings and
feet as they rose into the air. Doubtless this was with
the deliberate intention of startling me, just as a quail
or a dove flaps her wings over her back for this purpose.

In Northern Iowa and Minnesota I have become better
acquainted with these birds. Here they nest by the hun-
dreds or even thousands. At one time I am sure that I
saw several thousands of these birds on the shore of a lake
where they appeared as thick as the chickens in our poul-
try yard at home. Usually they build their nests by pil-
ing reeds, moss, grass, etc., in the shallow water, anchor-
ing them to rushes very much as does the loon. This nest

96 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

is so constructed that should the water rise it will float
higher but will not leave . its moorings, but should the
water dry up it will settle softly on the bottom. Some-
times where the water has gone down these nests are found
several yards from the shore, but as they usually build
farther out from shore than most marsh-nesting birds this
is not apt to happen.

The nest is about a foot in diameter and is just saucer
shaped enough on top to hold the eggs, this saucer being
lined with fine grass. They lay from nine to fourteen eggs,
slightly tinted with brown and minutely speckled all over
with black or dark brown. They are so near the color of
the nest in which they lie that it is hard to see them at a
distance of a few yards.

This bird does not brood her eggs closely as do many
birds. If one approaches where she is brooding she
scrambles off the nest, runs a few yards and then rises
into the air with a tremendous splatter and often man-
ages to appear so badly injured as to lead people on a
merry chase until she has led them far away from the
nest.

Coots have a peculiar appearance when on the wing, as
they often fly with the bill pointing down and the feet
sticking backward and upward. The wings are much
broader than tl . wings of a duck, which is a distinguish-
ing mark between the two. When the coot alights in the
water it makes a splash and when it starts to fly it makes
a splatter. In fact, because of this habit, in many places
it is known as the splatterer.

These birds are to be found along the creeks and in
the marshes over the northern part of the United States
almost from the Atlantic to the Pacific. They migrate late

KILLDEER AND NEST

Photo by A. H. Eastgate

(See Chapter 15)

THE AMERICAN COOT 97

in the fall and return early in the spring. They are
usually found nesting in the marshes along our streams,
lakes, and other similar places.

Key to the Families of Paludicolae

MEGALORNiTHiDiE — Crancs.

With the hind toe small and much elevated.

Rallid^ — Rails, Coots, and Gallinules.

With the hind toe long and nearly on a level with the other toes,
the tail feathers soft, very short, and almost hidden.

Aramid^ — ^Limpkins.

With the hind toe longf and nearly on a level with the other toes,
but with the tail feathers stiffish and well developed.

Foot of Coot

xy

THE KILLDEER

THERE is a large gronp of medium-sized birds that
have always interested me. They have long, slen-
der legs and bills like the herons but do not have their
excessively long necks and slender bodies. In fact, most
of them have bodies as plump as a partridge or a quail.
Their wings, long and slender, are so relatively more than
those of the crane and herons; and instead of being awk-
ward on their legs these birds are rapid runners. Indeed, I
know of no birds anywhere near their size that are so active
on foot as this family. There are many varieties, com-
monly known as snipes, sandpipers, woodcocks, plovers,
etc. They all have similar habits, so if you know the life
history of one, you can form a fair idea of how the others
live. They are easily recognized from other birds by their
long legs and distinctive bills, which separate them from
other birds in general, and by the plump body and shorter
neck which distinguish them from the cranes, the herons,
and the bitterns.

These birds for the most part live along the coast or
along the shores of lakes and streams, tho they are often
found in pastures and meadows, especially in its swampy
places. They feed mostly on worms, snails, insects and
crustaceans that are found in shallow water. Possibly

98

THE KILLDEER 99

the most common and the best known of these birds is
the killdeer. I have known these birds practically all my
life, and have never been in any part of the United States
where they are not found, altho of course they are much
more abundant in some places than in others. But it has
been only within the last ten or fifteen years that I have
had the opportunity to know them intimately. From my
class room I can look out over a pasture and see from one
to two dozen killdeers almost any time. There is a small
draw that heads in this pasture that or a large part of
the year is more or less swampy. If I start across this
part of the pasture, these birds from all sides begin scream-
ing '^killdeer, killdeer,'' and I see them running ahead of me
very much as quails often do; but they do not run far
before taking flight. For seventeen years no one has been
allowed to shoot them. Probably no birds living there
now have ever been shot at. For this reason they are
tame, and even when they fly do not go more than a few
rods before alighting.

In spite of my busy life I have had opportunity to
watch these birds carefully. I find that they are experts
in locating cut-worms or angleworms even tho these
are buried under the soil, and that they are equally ex-
pert in digging down to them with their long, sharp bills.
Their food consists largely of these worms, caterpillars,
grasshoppers and other insects. If other foods run
short, they feed on the young succulent grass that is sure
to be foimd in swampy places. They particularly like to
run over the garden in the springtime. When the gar-
den is being plowed they make it a point to run over the
newly plowed ground in search of angleworms or moth
chrysalids that may be turned out. As the early vegetables

100 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

come on, these birds are often seen running up and down
the rows of cabbage and lettuce^ picking off the worms.
They are jolly little fellows, always chuckling to them-
selves, especially when they find a worm.

They usually live and feed in small flocks, and there is
always a sentry or two on guard while the others feed.
When disturbed this sentry warns his fellows by a sharp,
piercing cry and then flies to safety.

Every season for at least ten years I have found one
or more killdeer's nests in the garden. I was especially
amused with one killdeer's nest I found about the tenth of
last June. She had wallowed a little hole in the gravel on
a side hill in a field of newly set strawberries. I was
looking over this field in company with a friend, when to
my amusement a killdeer ran up almost to our very feet
and fell over and begun to flutter as if she had heart fail-
ure and was in her death throes. I was far too wise in
bird lore to allow her to fool me into trying to catch her
or into following her, and this seemed to worry her a great
deal. Over and over she would flutter away fifteen or twenty
feet, making it very plain that she was in the greatest
pain, that one wing was broken and that the leg on the
other side couldn't be used at all. She would struggle
over the ground with one wing and one leg dragging, utter-
ing the most pitiful cries of pain and distress, but when
we refused to follow, she always managed to be able to
fly back and fall almost at our feet again. I had not seen
the nest as yet, and but for her antics doubtless we never
would have seen or known that it was there ; but by circling
about a bit and watching her actions it was easy to see
when I was getting farther away or nearer to the nest, and
before many minutes I found it.

THE KILLDEER 101

A killdeer^s nest is not the easiest thing to see. It is
simply a shallow depression wallowed into the ground,
and may or may not be lined with a few straws. This
nest had no lining. The eggs were thickly speckled and
so closely matched the pebbles in the soil that, even when
I saw the nest, it was hard to distinguish the eggs at a
distance of ten feet. We walked up within three or four
feet of the nest ; but as we did not touch the eggs and
finally went away, I am quite sure that the mother believed
that we did not find it. This bird laid four eggs and sat
on them for days; then one morning about nine o'clock
she came off the nest and lo, four little fuzzy, blackish
brown and white mottled balls of down begun to run over
the ground after her. I never see young killdeers but their
small bodies and long legs make me think of the toy ani-
mals I used to make when a child by sticking sticks into
small potatoes or match straws into peanut shells.

While these little creatures are colored so nearly like
the ground, they are more easily seen than young quails of
similar age. They do not stay in the nest like most birds,
nor do they always follow the mother closely like the young
quail, tho they are often with her. They often straggle
across the field as they will, usually keeping near the nest-
ing place. When the mother bird comes to find them
she utters her call, alights on the ground and starts run-
ning about, chattering, while they come running for what-
ever she may have. These little fellows do not seem
to be in the least afraid of man. I do not know whether
it is because they have not been disturbed for so many
years, for I never was fortunate enough to see young kill-
deers until the past few years, but I have never seen any that
tried very hard to get away when I wished to catch them

102 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

and I have even known them to run to me — whether for
protection or because they thought I might have some-
thing to feed them I never could quite make out. They
grow rapidly and when three weeks old, if all has gone
well, are able to fly, but long before this time they have
become fast runners. It has always been a mystery to me
how these little fellows escape their enemies. I can under-
, stand well enough that their protective coloring saves them
from hawks and owls, but there are rats, snakes, ground
squirrels, and dozens of other small animals at large, and
anything as innocent as a little killdeer wandering over the
earth must meet these creatures frequently. That they
usually get by alive is proved by the ever increasing num-
bers that are seen in the pasture near by.

I have stated that I have never seen the young killdeers
follow their mother as young quails follow theirs. Others,
however, have told me that they have seen the mother
killdeer running about on the ground with her young fol-
lowing her closely. The mother bird does not carry worms
to her young, but helps them to find their food on the
ground. In order to do this she must be with them a
great part of the time. I presume the reason I find
them alone so often is that the mother bird is on the wing
so much of the time that the little birds become scattered
while she is away. When they have the opportunity, they
doubtless follow her as other birds do. When night comes
the mother killdeer comes back to the vicinity of the nest,
calls her babies together, and hovers them during the
night.

The killdeer is not a bird that minds the cold weather
as long as it can get plenty of food. In open winters they
used to stay all the year round in Iowa, but commonly

THE KILLDEER 103

they disappeared about the time the first heavy snows fell,
but were sure to be back again with the return of spring.
Near Nashville, Tennessee, where I am now living, they
are with us all the time except in the stormiest and snow-
iest weather. Doubtless, like most of our other birds, they
retire to the cane brakes and thick brush when such weather
comes.

Many people hunt the killdeer for food. This is true
also of most snipes. The woodcock, one of the snipe fam-
ily that is found over much of our country, is even a
greater delicacy than quail. It seems too bad that such
beautiful and valuable creatures as our birds must be
slaughtered by tens of thousands every year simply that
man may satisfy his appetite. Having protected the birds
for the past eighteen years, our school farm has become a
veritable bird haven, and probably this accounts for the
fact that we have killdeers in such great numbers.

Key to the Families of Limicolae

Jacanid^ — Jacanas.

With the claw of the hind toe longer than the toe alone.

Phalaropodid>« — Phalaropes.

With the claw of the hind toe not longer than the toe alone, and
the toes with lateral, usually scalloped membranes.

Aphrizid^ — Surf-birds and Turnstones.

With the tarsus transversely scaled in front, the toes without lateral
membranes, bill stout and not longer than the middle toe without
claw.

SC0L0PACID.E — Snipes and Sandpipers.

Similar to Aphrizid^, but bill slender and longer than the middle
toe without claw.

Recurvirostrid^ — Avocets.

Tarsus covered in front with irreRular or hexagonal scales and more
than twice as long as the middle toe with claw.

HiEMATOPODiD^ — Oystcr-catchers.

Tarsus covered in front with irregular or hexagonal scales, but less
than twice as long as the middle toe with claw; and the bill longer
than the tarsus, wedge-shaped at the tip.

Charadriid^ — Plovers.

Like H^MATOPODiD^, but bill shorter than tarsus and not wedge-
shaped at tip (the tarsus in one species transversely scaled in front).

XVI

LADY BETTY'S HUSBAND

BOB was the husband of Lady Betty, our tame quail.
He was born in a snug, grassy nest at the edge of
the meadow beyond the orchard. His mother with the
wisdom of her race had so timed the laying of her eggs
that Bob and his fourteen brothers and sisters were
hatched just three days after longhorns, the grasshopper,
and his nestmates crawled out of the grass and weeds at
the further edge of the meadow. Within less than twenty
minutes of the time Bob was hatched, he was attempting to
follow his mother through the wilderness that man called
a meadow. His fellows had all popped out of their shells
within a few moments of the time that Bob crept out of
his. One of the marvellous things about the wildlings
who lead their young from the nest in search of food is
that many of them often hatch all their eggs at almost the
same moment.

When quail eggs were hatched under the old bantam hen,
they often required several hours to get out of the shell.
Bob and his fellows were hatched in the morning and left
the nest as soon as the dew had dried off the grass. The
ever watchful mother, knowing where the grasshoppers
were emerging by the thousands, led her brood to the
edge of the cornfield where each little fledgling tried to
excel the other in catching baby grasshoppers.

104,

LADY BETTY'S HUSBAND 105

One reason why quail are so valuable is that the first
brood usually hatches within a few days after the grasshop-
pers emerge from their nests, and the baby quails eat them
by the thousands. After half an hour or so, when the babies
had all dined, the mother hovered beside a clod so nearly
her own color that no sparrow hawk which might chance
to fly overhead could notice her, and the babies snuggled
imder her or sprawled about her in the sunshine for a nap.

Toward evening, after the babies had fed and slept by
turns throughout the day, the mother led her family
back to sleep, perhaps for the last time in the home nest.
Had it been necessary to wander far in search of food,
she would not have returned to the nest for even the first
night. The second evening this mother merely crept
under the hedge and settled for the night on some dry
leaves. Within a week she ceased to hover her brood, and
instead they all sat beside her until morning.

By the time Bob was twenty-four hours old his father
joined the family and bore his full share of the family
responsibilities. When Bob was about two weeks old he
was surprized to have his faithful little mother disappear
for two or three hours one day. His father became even
more watchful and solicitous for the safety of the family.
WTien the mother returned, however, the children were all
delighted to see her. The next day she disappeared again
and this became the daily program for nearly two weeks.
Probably Bob did not know that his sweet little mother
had made another nest and was stealing away every day
to add an egg to the growing treasure that was soon to
be hatched into another brood of baby quails.

Before Bob was a month old he could fly as well as
any bird, though he was not yet nearly grown up. His

106 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

mother had deserted the family save for a short time
occasionally, but the father never led them far from
the new nest and every night they roosted close by the
mother and her treasures.

The second family had their first feed on the chinch
bugs that were just now running from the wheat into the
corn. The mother would gather her family around a
cornstalk on which there were dozens of chinch bugs, then
backing off a few feet, she would fly against this corn-
stalk with sufficient force to jar the bugs to the ground.
Before they could take flight or crawl back on the stalk
the baby quails had fed in abundance. Thus the wild
mother showed her wisdom again. Had these babies
hatched a few days sooner, the chinch bugs would
have been in the wheat field and therefore difficult to
secure. Within a week the parents had united their flocks.
Again it was only a few days till the mother was slipping
away every day, leaving to her husband the entire re-
sponsibility of both broods. When the third brood was
ten days old again the family united, and ran together
until all were mature.

As spring drew nigh, the flock scattered in all directions,
possibly a provision of nature against close inbreeding.
But Bob chanced to return to the old home.

Quails were whistling their "Bob-white" on every bright
morning and the spirit of spring was everywhere. Bob
whistled his loudest and best, stopping to listen each time
for an answering call from the mate he hoped to find.
One day the boy took it into his head to whistle "Bob-white'^
in reply, so every time Bob whistled he received an an-
swering call from the dooryard. Fearing lest his fancied
rival might be more successful in finding the mate he felt

LADY BETTY'S HUSBAND 107

sure was near, each time the boy whistled, Bob flew a
little nearer until finally he alighted on the garden fence
within fifty feet of the dooryard. Lady Betty, the pet
quail that nested in grandfather's old carpet slippers, had
been growing uneasy with the return of spring, and while
she ordinarily was perfectly contented with her human com-
panions, now she often wandered about the yard and or-
chard whistling her sweet little call, so different from
that of the male. Most pet birds seem to feel above others
of their kind, but Betty was such an adorable, unassuming
little lady that it never entered her small head that she
was superior to any one. So when the Bobwhite, dressed
in his best summer suit, lighted on the garden fence and
began whistling his love song, she was charmed at once.
She did not immediately answer, however, but quietly
flew around the house and into the edge of the orchard
where it was almost impossible that she should not be
seen. Bob flew directly to her and began fluttering and
strutting about making the greatest possible ado over her.
Betty had been reared with human folk and knew little
of the doings of her own race. Perhaps she was not as
coquettish as she might have been had she grown up
with a flock of birds and been used to the flattery of such
young gentlemen. As it was, within ten minutes the
matter was settled. I never have known a bird wooing
that was accomplished in such a simple manner or within
such a short time^ either before or since, but undoubtedly
it was just as satisfactory as if it had taken a month. To-
gether they wandered through the orchard the remainder of
the day as happy as two birds could be. Poor Bob, little
did he realize that henceforth he was to be known simply as
Lady Betty's husband and to be worried and harassed

108 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

by her doings which he never could understand or ap-
prove. Toward evening Betty insisted on coming into
the dooryard, and poor Bob was distressed beyond meas-
ure. Every instinct and every bit of training he had ever
received told him she was going to certain death and she
seemed wholly unconscious of the fact. When mother
threw out a handful of feed, poor Bob flew to the orchard,
but true to the habits of his race, no sooner had he
alighted than he ran back, keeping well under cover, to
see what happened to Betty. When finally he peeped
through the garden fence and saw her contentedly sitting on
mother's shoulder, his surprize was beyond description.
He began fluttering and flopping much as a mother dove
would have done had some one disturbed her nest, and
when he had attracted Betty's attention, he rose with a
tremendous whirr and flew toward the meadow. Betty
paid not the least attention and when night came roosted
on the porch as usual.

Day after day Bob fussed and fretted in his endeavors
to persuade Betty that she was not safe, but when at last
she made her nest in the house he overcame his fears suffi-
ciently to sit on the railing of the porch, provided no one
came near. When the little quails were hatched and
Betty led them proudly into the front yard he alighted by
her side with every demonstration of joy, but when mother
threw a finely minced hard-boiled egg to the brood, he
rose with a whirr which frightened the poor little fellows
almost out of their wits. It was interesting to see how
those babes, which but an hour ago had hatched, at this first
call of danger scattered like the leaves of autumn, each hid-
ing in the best manner possible. Betty began calling in her
gentle soothing voice and presently one little fellow after

MALE BOBWHITE

BOBWHITE'S NEST

YOUNG MOURNING DOVES
(See Chapter 18)

LADY BETTY'S HUSBAND lOd

another slipped out of the grass, peered around cautiously,
and then ran to their mother and began feeding on the
egg. Within a week the brood was perfectly tame, but
poor Bob never could satisfy himself that his family was
not being wrongly educated. When Lady Betty began
sitting on the second clutch of eggs, he led the brood to
the orchard and vineyard and before many days they began
to be shy. When winter came they followed Bob to the
fields and left Betty to enjoy the luxuries of her home
alone.

However, when winter piled snow several feet deep,
instead of plunging under the snow after the manner of
quail and prairie chickens, and huddling together to keep
warm for the night, thus taking a chance of being im-
prisoned by the terrible crust that so often forms over the
surface. Bob was wise enough to lead his brood to feed at
the corn crib and to roost under the cattle shed.

Toward spring Bob and his flock disappeared. Whether
he was killed or whether he chose to leave the vicinity and
choose another mate I can not say. For years a flock of
quails nested in our orchard and meadow, and were so
gentle that they would scarcely fly when discovered and
did not hesitate to come to the bamlot and the corn crib
for food whenever it was scarce in the fields.

We have several varieties of the bobwhite quail in
America, differing mostly in size and color, but the dif-
ferences are so slight that any person who is acquainted
with one would recognize the others as of the same family.

We have several flocks of quail where I am now located.
These have been carefully protected for years, and almost
every summer there are nests vtdthin a hundred yards of
my house. In the summer of 1922, a quail nested near

110 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

by that was so fearless that she would allow those whom
she saw working about her every day to come within eight
or ten feet without showing the least fear, and one day
one of our faculty put his hand over her and stroked her
while she was on the nest, and even then she did not fly.

Quails feed largely on weed seeds and insects, altho, of
course, at certain times of the year they eat grain. How-
ever, very little of the grain the quails eat would ever
be of value to man, for it is the waste grain that is scat-
tered over the fields and would never be gathered.

Truly the Bobwhite deserves his name, "the farmer's
friend,'' for no bird that lives is more beneficial, more
cheery, and more worth encouraging than he.

XVII

THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN

JUST below our garden was a five acre meadow which
sloped gently south and southwest. It was protected
on the north and northwest by our buildings and the grove
beyond, and naturally in the winter the snow melted off
there when it was still abundant in most places. It was
a fertile meadow containing about an even mixture of
clover and timothy and remained green through the win-
ter. While the same thing doubtless occurred at times
every winter, I especially remember the winter I was
eight years old that some spots in this meadow were bare
nearly all of the time, though there was much snow over the
country in general. This became a favorite feeding place
for many birds. In fact, it was the one spot that kept hun-
dreds of birds from going hungry or perhaps from starving
that winter. While other birds came to this meadow by
twos and threes at various times in the day, along about
ten o'clock in the morning, prairie chickens usually began
to arrive in flocks of from a dozen to several hundred.
Often one could count as many as five or six hundred
prairie chickens feeding there.

As many of my readers have never seen prairie chickens,
I wish to say that this bird is a scratcher. It belongs to
the grouse branch of the family and in size is about as

111

112 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

large as a guinea fowl. In the early history of our
country prairie chickens bred by the millions in parts of
Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, and the country border-
ing on those States. Like most of their family they do not
fear the cold and, except on the plains, seldom migrate
more than a few miles, if at all. They used to gather in
our meadow and spend hours running about eating grass
and picking up such hibernating worms or grubs as they
were able to scratch out of the frozen ground. They were
an interesting lot of birds, and were so cheery and happy
that we would not shoot them ourselves, and did not per-
mit anyone else to do so.

Our garden was surrounded by an Osage Orange hedge
that had been trimmed carefully and was so thick that
one could scarcely see through it. It was an easy thing
to slip along under cover of this hedge and get within
fifty or seventy-five yards of the prairie chickens to watch
them at their feeding. They were sociable birds, always
good natured. Never once at such seasons did I see fight-
ing or quarreling in the flock.

In those days we as well as practically all our neighbors
ate prairie chicken, but we did not care to shoot them be-
cause we did not wish to frighten them away. We rec-
ognized that most of them had been reared on the prairie
forty or fifty miles away, and had gathered in our part
of the country in the winter only because they could there
secure more food and protection. But we could not help
hoping that some of them would remain behind and nest
on our place, especially if we did not disturb them over-
much.

In the early morning and late evening those prairie
chickens would fly to the various cornfields in the neigh-

THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN US

borhood and, alighting on the corn shocks, scratch into
the ears and help themselves to the corn. I presume they
must have eaten a considerable amount of corn, but corn
was cheap and every one had plenty, and I do not think
it was missed much.

We used to make traps of lath, building them four
square, a little wider at the bottom than at the top, making
them about two and a half or three feet high. At the
bottom these traps were as large each way as a common
lath is long. The top consisted of a trap door made of
lath and so hung that if a bird lighted on one half of it,
it would trip at once and let the bird slide down into the
trap while a weight on the other half of the top imme-
diately closed this trap door. Pieces of lath were nailed
every few inches around the edge of the trap and were
sharpened at the top so that ears of corn could be stuck
on them. A little com was shelled and thrown inside
and a few grains scattered around the outside. On cold
icy days when it was difficult to scratch their way into the
com in the shock this was very tempting to the prairie
chicken. They would first eat the com scattered on the
snow and then hop up on the trap expecting to pick the
com off of the ears that were stuck on the edge. Of
course they could not alight on the edge of the trap as
the ears were too close together, and since the top looked
perfectly secure they alighted there and fell through the
trap door. Sometimes we would catch as many as a dozen
or more in a single trap in one day. This method of catch-
ing them had at least the advantages of not frightening
the others and of not crippling any that were not killed.

As the broad prairies began to be settled and the tall
jgrass plowed under, prairie chickens lost their best breed-

114 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH- STORIES

ing grounds and soon began to grow scarce. Now where
we used to see thousands every day it is the exception if
we see a dozen in a year's time. It seems too bad that the
progress of man should always work the extermination of
the best of our wildlings.

But to return to my story. As the winter wore away
and the snow melted off the prairie chickens began to
depart for their nesting grounds^ but as we had hoped,
all did not go. Both on our farm and that of our next
neighbor there were wet places where the slough grass
had grown five or six feet tall. This grass did not make
good hay, neither did it afford first class pasture. As long
as we had plenty of blue grass pasture for the cattle and
of timothy and clover for hay this grass was seldom dis-
turbed except to cut enough of it to top out other stacks.
It did not take the prairie chickens long to locate these
places.

With the first bright spring mornings, even before the
snow drifts were all gone, I used to be awakened at day-
break by the crowing or rather booming of the prairie
cocks as they strutted about over the meadows and made
love to the hens. In the springtime the cock becomes as
proud and quarrelsome as a turkey gobbler. He struts
about in the early morning uttering a half crow, half
boom, heavy and loud out of all proportion to the size of
the bird. On a crisp frosty spring morning this can be
heard for two or three miles. I used to like to slip around
the fields and watch these birds strutting and crowing
about among the hens, attempting to win them. At such
times the cocks are apt to clash frequently and fight like
demons.

By the middle of April we used to find nests on the

THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN 115

ground in this tall slough grass. These nests were de-
pressions scratched in the ground, but there was always
enough grass and leaves scratched together so that the
eggs were well protected. The eggs were almost identi-
cal with guinea fowl eggs in both size and shape, and it was
not uncommon to find as many as fifteen in a nest. Not
realizing how much mischief we were doing, we boys used
to hunt these nests and take the eggs home and boil them.
In flavor they tasted very much like a guinea's egg, tho
if anything they were of even better quality. I was in East-
ern Nebraska one spring when a prairie fire swept over the
country. Undoubtedly there were few old birds killed
by this fire and the young had not yet hatched, but one
could walk over the black and charred ground, especially in
the low places where the tall grass had been abundant, and
find eggs literally by the hundreds. We gathered all of
these we could use. Some were roasted, some were merely
scorched, and some seemingly were not injured at all.

As prairie chickens grew scarce at home we began to
follow the practise of leaving the grass for the prairie
chickens' special use in one little slough that ran through
a field which we usually planted to com. There it was that
I got my first idea of the injury crows do other birds. We
were plowing. Brother John and I, on the same land, one
team following the other, when an old black crow alighted
on a tall fence stake at the edge of this slough. Presently
he hopped off on the ground and we noticed a strange
sight. He would peck at something and flutter and flap
his wings and then jump back. Presently we saw an old
prairie hen attempting to drive this black rascal away
from this piece of ground. She would peck and scratch
and pound with her wings equal to any old setting hen.

116 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

but the crow usually managed to keep out of her reach.
Finally he half jumped and half flew over her head, made
a grab at something, then flew back upon the stake and
we could see clearly that he had an egg in his mouth.
Now the secret was out. He had found this prairie hen's
nest and she was defending her eggs. Knowing that it
was useless to interfere in a case of this kind we went
on with our plowing and watched these birds as much as
possible. The trouble continued for an hour or more and
we knew that the crow got another egg. Finally, per-
haps because his hunger was satisfied for the time or
possibly because he had received more punishment from the
prairie hen than he wished he left the place.

We had noticed that he alighted on an unusually tall
fence stake before attempting to reach the nest and
perched there while eating the eggs that he succeeded in
stealing. When we went to dinner, Brother John, who
Was an expert at trapping hawks and owls, brought a steel
trap back to the field with him and set it on the top of
this stake, driving the ferrule of the chain into the hard
wood of the stake. About the middle of the afternoon
this old black crow alighted on the ground near this nest.
After trudging about for a time he managed to get another
egg before the mother discovered him. One egg was all
that he secured before she rushed to the defense of her
nest. Eealizing that he would be safe from attack while
perched on top of this stake the crow alighted on it with-
out stopping to look. Crows very seldom alight anywhere
without very carefully scrutinizing the place, but like most
people who are engaged in rascality he lost his good judg-
ment for once, and once was all that was necessary. The
trap caught him by both legs and held him securely. We

I.

\

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jgarrf!

K* II • KafmfaaeH

-^ ■ - «. ax

PRAIRIE CHICKENS
Male in Foreground— Strutting

THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN 117

left our teams and ran to him in triumph, beat his head
over the stake and hung his carcass from its top, and from
that time our prairie chicken's nest was secure from moles-
tation.

Examination showed that there were still six eggs im-
broken and that the bird had not begun to sit. We knew
better than to touch the prairie chicken's eggs or to get too
near the nest, for we did not want the mother to desert
it. So we contented ourselves with marking the place so
that we could easily find it again. The mother, now that
her tormentor was gone, laid several more eggs and hatched
the last brood of prairie chickens I ever knew to be raised
on our farm.

Little prairie chickens look very much like little quail,
except that they are larger. Any one who is familiar with
newly hatched guinea fowls knows about what a little
prairie chicken looks like, for, I believe, if one should mix
the eggs of the two birds together, when they hatched he
would have difficulty distinguishing the young birds from
each other until they were perhaps a week old and the
wing and tail feathers started to grow.

Like young quails they have the faculty of hiding any-
where, anytime, should danger come. The mother could
be leading the young birds through the grass, all of them
as busy as could be, catching young grasshoppers and
small bugs, but let me show my head and away she would
go with a whir that would startle any one and not a young
bird was to be seen. I have spent half an hour looking
for the young birds when I knew at least a dozen were con-
cealed within ten or twelve feet of me and still would not
be able to find one. After becoming more familiar with
them I found that they not only squatted flat on the ground

118 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

where their peculiar stripes of various shades of brown
blended perfectly with the grass and earth, but should I
get too near and they saw my eye was not on them they
did not hesitate to run six or eight feet like a streak and
then again squat on the ground and hide. I used to be
almost afraid to walk about lest I step on some little fel-
lows that might be hiding imder my feet, but I never
had this misfortune, probably because they were shrewd
enough to slip out of the way of my foot if it got too
near.

By the time they were two weeks old their wing and
tail feathers had grown amazingly and they were beginning
to fly. At three weeks, while not nearly half grown, they
could fly as well as their mother, and if anything dis-
turbed them they usually flew away in a flock.

Prairie chickens are now scarce in almost every part
of the country. Perhaps they are most numerous in the
Dakotas, Nebraska, and Northwestern Texas at present.
They are larger than the New England partridge or pheas-
ant, but not so large as the Western sage hen. In fact, they
are about the size of some of the grouse that are found in
the Eocky Mountain districts. All of these birds belong to
the same family, and have the same general character. All
have been favorite gam 3 birds, and imder the relentless
hand of man are growing scarcer.

Seemingly no one has successfully domesticated the
prairie chicken, but they certainly are no wilder and
should be no harder to domesticate than the guinea of
South Africa ; and this fowl has within the last few hun-
dred years become almost as well domesticated as the com-
mon chicken. I am sure the prairie chicken is superior in
almost every way to the guinea fowl, and it is unfortunate

THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN 119

that no one has made a success of domesticating this
valuable bird.

Key to the Families of Gallinas

Cracid-5: — Curassows and Guans.

With the hind toe inserted on the level of the anterior toes, and

more than half as long as the lateral toe,
Meleagridid^ — Turkeys.

Large, long-necked birds, with the hind toe less than half as Long

as the lateral, and inserted above the level of the rest; legs with

spurs, and entire head unfeathered.
Odontophorid^ — American Quails.

Small or moderate-sized, rather short-necked birds, without spurs,

and with the head feathered ; tarsus and nostrils entirely unfeathered.
Tetraonid.e — Grouse.

Moderate or rather large sized birds with the tarsus at least partly

feathered, and the nostrils wholly so.

XVIII

THE MOURNING DOVE

ONE of my earliest recollections is of a hired man by
the name of Dan Scott who used to take a great
deal of interest in me, whether for his own pleasure or for
mine I am not sure, but probably for both. Every eve-
ning he would take me on his knees and tell me *^ring-
tails'^ for an hour or so, and they certainly were ''ring-
tails/' He it was who soberly informed me that if I put
salt on a bird's tail I could catch it. I supposed any or-
dinarily bright boy ought to have seen the joke, but with
me it was a serious matter; and I used to spend hours
slipping through the woods and along the hedge fences
with both hands full of salt, fully determined to put salt
on the tails of all the birds in the neighborhood so that
I could catch them.

I suppose this idea of being able to catch birds appeals
to all boys. My good mother always told me that in
heaven the birds vsdll be perfectly tame and that we shall
not have to keep them in cages in order to have them for
pets. Most of my pet birds were gentle enough to come
to me in any place and at any time, though they flew in
the open the same as any other bird; but the experience
I am now to tell came after my dismal failure to tame
birds by putting salt on their tails.

120

THE MOURNING DOVE 121

You may think that this putting of salt on a bird's tail
has nothing to do with teaching you how to know birds,
but it certainly did have a great deal to do with my
learning to recognize them, for I am sure that if I had
not been simple enough to believe that Dan Scott meant
everything he said and if I had not set out to carry it
into practise, I never would have met so many interest-
ing birds, nor would I have seen so much of their family
life.

I remember very well that one day I was slipping very
quietly along the Osage Orange hedge that divided our
pastures when suddenly a turtle dove appeared on the
ground not three feet in front of me and began wallowing
and fluttering as if in great terror, but wholly unable to
get away. This was a wholly new procedure to me. Salt
and tails ahke were forgotten and I made a wild scramble
to catch the crippled bird. Down I went on the ground
half a dozen times, catching only a handful of grass, the
poor bird having been able to get just a few inches from
my hand. I was perspiring and worn out with excitement
and effort when after chasing this bird back and forth
for ten or fifteen minutes it suddenly rose and flew off
as nimbly as could be. By this time we were on the bank
of the brook where there was a little point with a steep
slope on both sides. I had maneuvered to get the bird to
this point because I know it would fall off the bank and
then I would have a better chance to catch the poor thing.
On looking around I discovered that I was more than a
hundred yards from where we started the chase. I knew
just where it had begun, for there lay my new straw
hat, with purple straws woven in it, where I had lost it at
the first dive after the dove. I remember this very clearly.

122 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

for this hat was a special treasure of mine which had
been bought only two days before, and it was the first hat
I had ever seen made from white straw with a purple
straw woven in every inch or so.

I trudged as fast as my four-year-old legs would carry
me to get my hat, but to my surprize when I went to pick
it up this poor crippled dove fell almost at my feet again.
I was sure this time that she was mortally hurt. I had
seen birds that had been shot make a desperate effort
and fly for a distance only to fall utterly exhausted at
last. Clutching my hat in one hand I gave chase again but
some way or another when we had gotten far enough away
this dove managed to rise and fly again. This time I went
home to tell mother my troubles and ask her about the
bird. You may imagine my chagrin when she told me that
this bird was not hurt at all, but was merely feigning in
order to lead me away from her nest. She told me that
if I would pay no attention to the bird but looked sharp I
undoubtedly would find a nest in the hedge very close to the
spot where I first found the bird.

As soon as she could get her work in condition so that
she could leave, she went with me to help find the nest,
for no barefooted boy would dare to get near enough to an
Osage Orange hedge to look into a bird's nest. Sure
enough, in the forks of an old limb that had been stuck
through the hedge to fill up a hole where some cow at
one time or another had broken through was a dove's nest,
the first one I remember having seen. It seemed to me
that it was about the poorest excuse for a bird's nest imag-
inable. All there was to it was a flat saucer of sticks with
a few straws and weeds stuck in to form a rim. In this
nest were two almost perfectly round snow white eggs.

THE MOURNING DOVE 123

We had plenty of pigeons in our bam and I was familiar
with pigeons' nests and eggs. I remember well that it
dawned on my mind that this dove must be a pigeon, be-
cause the nest and the eggs looked so much like those of
a pigeon. Mother told me that they were of the same
family and that there was another member of this family
that used to be very plentiful but was now growing scarce,
at least in our Iowa woods. On the way home, if my
memory serves me right, she showed me a flock of thir-
teen of these wild pigeons. That was the only flock of
wild pigeons I ever remember seeing, tho I occasionally
saw a pair or a single bird after that. But I shall never
forget the wonderful stories father and mother used to
tell me of the wild pigeons and their roosts in the Ozark
regions in Missouri when they were first married. These
pigeons used to pass over their house in such flocks as at
times to obscure the sun. In the morning until eight or
nine o'clock they would fly, flock, after flock, from their
roosts to the fields and meadows, and about an hour be-
fore sundown they would begin to return to the roosting
place. So low did they fly and in such dense flocks that
one could hardly throw a stone into the flock without bring-
ing down a bird.

The roost was a large oak grove only a short distance
from home. There the birds roosted in untold thousands
alighting on the branches so thickly that they would often
break them down. Father said that in the roost at night
the cooing of pigeons and the flapping of the wings of
birds that were coming in late made a noise so great that
even the report of a gun was not noticed by the pigeons.
People would go into this roost and kill them by the
sackful with guns, clubs, rocks, nets, and in other ways.

124 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

PinaUy, when the railroad entered that part of the coun-
try, the pigeons were slaughtered by the tens of thousands
and shipped to the city markets. This pigeon is now
totally extinct. It was one of our most interesting Amer-
ican birds and was found over the greater part of the
Mississippi valley, but like the buffalo it had to go before
the hunter's gun.

Doves and pigeons belong to the family Columbidae.
They are peaceable birds, and look much alike. In fact,
their shape and appearance are so distinct that any one who
has seen a domestic pigeon should at once recognize any
member of the family even tho he does not know its variety
name. All these birds are largely seed eaters. So far as I
know they do not eat many insects or meat of any kind.
They do eat some green vegetable matter and fruit, but
mostly seeds. When the wheat and oats were in the shock,
farmers often complained because the birds congregated in
the grain fields and fattened themselves on the ripened
grain.

The common turtle dove is one of the smaller birds of this
family. It is of a beautiful pinkish drab and brownish
above with a bluish gray head, and is very graceful. It is
found over most of the United States. One of its char-
acteristics is the fact that when it is startled and flies up
imexpectedly it flaps its wings together with a loud report
that startles you so that you are not able to do anything
until it is safe out of your way. Yet if this bird sees you
approach it will slip away as quietly as a shadow without
the least sound of its wings. They usually nest in bushes
and low trees, often building on large limbs. They
do not usually gather in droves until toward autumn;
wl*en the last brood of young is able to fly, one often sees

THE MOURNING DOVE 126

them in flocks in the grain fields. They are recognized as
game birds and are protected by law, and are on the in-
crease in many parts of the country.

They are silent birds except for their love song, which
is a sort of a coo-ow, coo, coo. Because of the moumful-
ness of these notes the birds are often called mourning
doves. There are several species of doves, but the habits of
all are similar. Their notes are so alike that a person who
is familiar with one will recognize that of another. Never-
theless each variety has a distinguishing note so that any
one who really knows the woods can recognize at once
what variety of dove he hears cooing.

From the earliest days of history the dove has been a
favorite, and has long been used as the emblem of peace
and of all that is pure and good.

XIX

THE TURKEY BUZZARD

SOME day when you are lying on the ground looking
up into the clear blue of heaven, I am sure that you
will see a great silent bird floating overhead in wide cir-
cles without so much as a flutter of a wing. As you watch
he will sail up and down, back and forth, hither and yon-
der, occasionally tipping one wing upward and then the
other as he wishes to change his direction, always and
ever sailing, sailing, sailing. I think no bird I knew as
a child seemed so imreal and so wonderful as this bird.
Hardly a day passed, summer or winter, when at some time
in the day I could not see one or more of these great birds,
but always they were sailing so high in the air that I could
tell nothing about their appearance. Father and mother
told me they were turkey buzzards — "turkey'' because their
head was bare like the head of a turkey, and "buzzard'' be-
cause of fancied resemblance to a hawk. These buzzards
are a type of degenerate hawks. I say ^^degenerate" be-
cause they have lost the bold hunter spirit of the hawks
and have taken to the cowardly method of stealing or
sneaking up on anything that they may desire for food.
Occasionally they kill for food, but when they do it is
either some helpless half grown bird or some injured or
crippled animal. Seldom do they attack anything that has

126

THE TURKEY BUZZARD 127

size or power enough even to make an attempt to get
away. Because of this lack of spirit they have found food
hard to secure and have degenerated into eating carrion.
No animal can be so far decayed or smell so bad that it is
not considered good food by these birds. It is in the
search of food that they are sailing, sailing, sailing, and
they fly at the great heights they do so that they may see
for miles in every direction. Doubtless no bird has a
keener sight than turkey buzzards. They are able to
recognize a dead animal at a distance of several miles, pos-
sibly further. One instance of my childhood days nicely
illustrates this fact.

It was in the middle of a cold winter and food had been
scarce for all of the birds, both the meat eaters and those
that fed on seeds. The snow piled deep over everything
and the thermometer seemed unable to rise above fifteen
or twenty below zero day or night. We were so unfor-
tunate as to have an animal die ; as the ground was frozen
too deeply to think of burying it, we simply dragged it
oif into a field at considerable distance from the house and
left it on the snow. No one had supposed there were
any buzzards in the country during this cold weather, in
fact, at no time in summer or winter had we seen more
than two or three buzzards at a time. Surely no more than
a half dozen of these birds lived within ten miles of us.
Yet within twenty-four hours of the death of this animal
twenty-three buzzards were feeding on the carcass. It was
a mystery to everyone where they came from. That was
the first time I saw these birds at close hand.

The carcass in the pasture was only two or three rods
from the hedge. It was easy to slip up behind this hedge
and watch the buzzards feed only two or three rods away.

128 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

A few crows came to the carcass now and then, as food of
all kinds was scarce; and when they came the cowardly
buzzards always gave way with squeals and demonstrations
of anger and disappointment. As soon as the crows had
completed their meal and left the carcass, again the buz-
zards fell to greedily. They seemed to eat like famished
creatures, fighting and eating as rapidly as possible. When
they were gorged to the limit, they merely hopped oS a
few feet and waited until they were able to eat more.
Evidently it is the custom of these birds to feed raven-
ously when food can be found and then to go long periods
without food. Doubtless the fact that they can fly without
expending energy in flapping their wings enables them
to live on much less food than other birds whose flying is
vigorous exercise.

The second day after this animal had been dragged to
the pasture a bald eagle appeared on the scene, the first
I had ever seen, and for two or three hours, while he was
feeding, not a buzzard dared venture closer than fifteen
or twenty feet. If an overly anxious buzzard came a lit-
tle too close, all the eagle had to do was to straighten up
to full height and the cowardly bird ran like a rat from
a dog.

Until some fifteen or twenty years ago, when I was rais-
ing poultry quite extensively, I had supposed these birds
never ate anything but carrion. At that time we had a
number of sick chickens — not sick enough to die, but
half blind with swollen heads and so weak that they stood
about paying little attention to anything that was going
on about them. Suddenly one day two buzzards alighted
in the poultry yard and each attacked one of these poor
sick fowl. Since then I have seen buzzards follow for

YOUNG GREAT HORNED OWL

Photo by Frank C. Pellett

(See Chapter 22)

THE TURKEY BUZZARD 12a

hours animals that evidently were so sick they could not
live long, watching for the end to come.

These birds are wise in their own way, because they
soon learn what it means to see a man start out with a
gun. Strange to say, most States protect them simply be-
cause they are scavengers; and their flesh is so filled with
poisons caused by their food that no living creature will
eat them imless driven to it by extreme hunger. For
this reason people seldom shoot buzzards. I have known
these birds to follow a hunter for hours, hoping to see where
he secreted any game he might kill; in case anything was
hidden, or escaped after being mortally wounded, the buz-
zards would eat it in his absence.

In the Southern part of the United States buzzards are
exceedingly numerous. In Texas and in Mississippi and
Louisiana I have seen them by the thousands, especially
on the outskirts of cities and about slaughter pens. The
bird itself is rather remarkable in many ways. While it
weighs only six and a half or seven pounds it has a spread
of wings of at least six feet. The entire body is covered
with long loose feathers which make it appear much larger
than it really is.

In winter these birds like to gather on the south side
of a bluff or in trees on the southern border of a large
body of timber where they can sun themselves. I have
found them in the woods of Tennessee in flocks of sev-
eral scores sitting sometimes ten or fifteen on a single limb,
lazily sunning themselves, occasionally yawning and
stretching their wings, but never once have I seen one of
them preening his feathers. The fact is that at close
range they always look dirty and disheveled, I am sure'
the buzzards are as filthy in their habits as they are in their

ISO KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

food. In fact, it is true of birds as of people that bad
habits of one kind are quite sure to develop equally bad
habits of another kind. Occasionally as a child I used to
find buzzard feathers in the spring when they were molt-
ing and scattering their great quiUs here and there over
the fields. It was easy to recognize such feathers be-
cause of their stench. They smell like the food the buz-
zard eats.

• Not so many years ago I found my first buzzard's nest.
'It was on the ground, as all buzzards' nests are, at the
end of a log. Buzzards do not always build at the end of
a log, however. If it is hollow they may build even two
or three feet inside, or they may build at the base of a
stump or a bush. I have known them to build on a dry
tussock in a swamp so that they could be handy to the
young cranes and herons that were near by. In fact, buz-
zards have a great preference for nesting in the midst of a
colony of nesting herons. There they feed on the eggs and
joung herons without having to fly in search of food.
? The nest I found contained two eggs about the size of the
'eggs of a common turkey, but they were a dull greenish
white, and the shell looked thick and rough and was
splashed here and there with a few brown spots. After
these eggs hatched an occasional hour of watching en-
abled me to see the mother feed her young. This she
did by disgorging her food into the young birds' mouths.
When a buzzard's nest is disturbed the old birds will often
fly overhead and attempt to disgorge food on the dis-
turber, knowing that the smell will be sufficient to drive
any man from the vicinity.

There are a number of varieties of buzzards, but the
common turkey buzzard is most common all over the

THE TURKEY BUZZARD 131

country. In California we have a giant buzzard that looks
much like a turkey, even having white bars on the wings;
but our common turkey buzzard is a dull brown color
without beauty of any kind. Should you ever get near a
turkey buzzard you will have no trouble in recognizing
him by his bald red head and neck. This head and neck
looks very much like the head and neck of a common tur-
key. The only birds that you could mistake for the C&in-
mon buzzard, either in flight or at any other time, iS the
giant black buzzard or carrion crow and one or two of the
hawks. In flight all of these birds soar very much alike.
I learned to recognize the difference when a child because
aU of the hawks find it necessary to flap their wings oc-
casionally. In fact, I never saw a hawk soar more than
a few minutes without flapping his wings, but buzzards will
often fly for an hour without doing so. No one need
have any difficulty distinguishing buzzards from the car-
rion crow because these latter birds have a square instead
of a, rounded tail, and the head is black?

XX

(THE BALD EAGLE

I SPENT the summer of 1896 on the banks of the
Yellowstone Eiver about eight miles above the city of
Livingstone. The Eiver at that point was full of fish of
many kinds. In fact, suckers were so plentiful that the
man with whom I stayed made it a practise each year to
take a wagon and a pitchfork down to the edge of a
shoal and fork out a load of suckers and bury them about
his rhubarb, currant, and gooseberry bushes as fertilizer.

In a scrubby cottonwood tree near where I stayed was
the first fish hawk's nest I had ever seen. The fish hawk,
or osprey, is very powerful of flight and feeds on fish. I
had read of those birds many times and was pleased to
find an opportunity to study them at first hand.

I knew that bald eagles were common in those moun-
tains. I had seen the historical eagle's nest on the top
of pinnacle rock at the entrance to Yellowstone National
Park, a nest that doubtless has been used for fifty years
or more, and had found several other nests in the moun-
tains. But it did not occur to me that any eagles lived
near us, tho I should have known that inaccessible cliffs,
a river full of fish, and an osprey's nest were a combina-
tion a bald eagle could not resist.

As I stated beore, the fish hawk had selected a scrubby
cottonwood tree for her home, and late in April she built

182

THE BALD EAGLE 133

a nest not more than twenty feet from the ground. I do
not believe she had been living in this vicinity long, for
I had never noticed her until about the time she began
building. She would fly down the river to a shallow a
short way from where I stayed and would then hover over
the river very much as a sparrow hawk hovers over a
meadow when he has seen a mouse. This hawk would
hang over that spot almost motionless, except for the flap-
ping of her wings, for what seemed to be several minutes,
when suddenly she would set her wings and dive headlong
into the water. She was usually forty or fifty feet above
the surface when she made her dive and would plunge
completely under the water and sometimes remain sub-
merged as long as a half minute. Then she would rise
from the surface and, flapping heavily, mount into the
air, often carrying a sucker eighteen inches or two feet
long and as thick through as my arm at the shoulder.

One day in May I was watching her when I heard a
scream in the direction of the mountain and looking around
saw a bald eagle flying as rapidly as possible toward the
hawk. Evidently the hawk had not been molested before,
for she made no attempt to escape, but flew directly
toward her nest, where my visit that afternoon had showed
that she had youngsters. The eagle, being a more rapid
flyer and not being burdened by a load, gained rapidly.
When within perhaps fifty feet he again uttered his scream
of defiance and struck straight for the hawk. She dodged
and the eagle missed. Eising in a few short circles he
again drove for the hawk and struck her full in the back.
Tho a handful of feathers were torn from her back, evi-
dently the eagle did not care to do real damage or pos-
sibly he had missed a direct blow. The hawk gave a cry

134 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH) STORIES

of fright and dropped her fish, which was precisely what
the eagle intended. She flew away rapidly, but the eagle,
making a quick swoop, caught the fish long before it
reached the ground and bore it in triumph to the moun-
tains some two miles away. As soon as the eagle was out
of sight, the hawk returned to her fishing. She had fished
only a few moments when she caught another fish, which
she bore safely home to her fledglings.

This eagle evidently had its own fledglings on some crag
of the mountain near by. I tried several times to locate
the nest but did not succeed. It came to be a daily oc-
currence to hear a scream and see the eagle coming from
the top of the nearest high peak toward the hawk which
it had discovered flying home with a fish. As the days
went by, it was interesting to watch these two great birds
match wits. If the hawk fished further up the river, she
was fairly well concealed by some large trees and usually
could manage to get away with her fish unobserved. On
the other hand the water was deeper here, and she found
it hard to locate her prey. Furthermore, her favorite fish,
the sucker, preferred shallow water. So she usually chose
to fish in the shallows in full view of the watchful eagle
on the mountain above. "When she made -her catch, how-
ever, she was not long in learning to fly up the river as
close to the surface as she could, for in that way she could
often escape the notice of the eagle. On the other hand
if the eagle failed for some time to see her catch a fish it
would take to the air and sail back and forth high above
the fishing grounds watching for the hawk.

After the one experience I never saw the hawk wait for
the eagle to strike her before dropping her fish. On the
other hand I never saw the eagle force her to drop her fish

THE BALD EAGLE 135

when she was directly over the water. Evidently the
eagle realized that there was danger of the fish's being a
loss to both of them.

The bald eagle is our typical American eagle, being
found only in America. Except the golden eagle and
California condor it is our largest bird of prey, and is found
in practically all parts of our country. Its habit of rob-
bing the fish hawk is practised from Maine to California.

It is very powerful of flight, but is not particularly bold.
It catches many rabbits and other small animals, and
occasionally a fish. I have also seen it disputing the car-
cass of a dead horse with crows and buzzards. Yet both
these birds recognized their master in the eagle, for they
preserved a respectful distance until it had dined and
left the carcass. Then they again scrimmaged for its pos-
session. Eagles often live to a great age.

It is interesting to watch an eagle's nest when the
fledglings are grown and ready to fly. I have had this
privilege and tell the story in detail in the history of a
famous old golden eagle in my "Elo the Eagle and Other
Stories." When the mother wishes to teach her eaglets to
fly, she pushes them out of the nest, one at a time, and
lets them flutter and fly as best they can. Should the
fledgling be about to fall to the earth, she quickly swoops
under it, receives it on her back, and mounts high into
the air where she slips from under it and again allows it
to use its wings. In this way it is only a short time till
all of her fledglings are able to fly.

I Bald eagles usually nest high. Where there are no trees
they nest on cliffs ; in the mountains the nest is frequently
on a projecting rock on the side of a cliff or in some simi-
lar location, inaccessible to man. When a tall tree is se-

136 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

lected it is often in the midst of a swamp, on a small island,
or in some equally inaccessible place, and the nest is built
of large sticks placed in the forks of a large tree. It is
surprizing how large some of these sticks are — pieces
five or six feet long and two inches thick not being un-
usual. Grapevines and smaller sticks are piled on these
to form an almost flat nest. The same nest is used year
after year, merely a few sticks being added by way of
repair. Even tho the nest is robbed the birds seldom
desert it.

The bald eagle can scarcely be mistaken for any other
bird because, first, it is larger than the hawks and the buz-
zards, and, second, its head and neck are snowy white,
something we never see in any other bird of prey. At pres-
ent the bald eagle lives mostly in the timbered regions
near the coast; but also in many places throughout the
interior of North America, though it is there less common.

XXI

FLEETWING THE SPARROW HAWK

THE first time I saw him he was chasing over the
fields close in the wake of another bird of almost ex-
actly his own size but not quite so brilliantly colored.
Back and forth they flew, circling and dashing first one
way and then another, occasionally giving utterance to a
shrill little cry. Whenever they came near, all the small
birds took to cover at once. I probably would not have
seen them had not the old white rooster called my atten-
tion to the fact that they were near. Immediately every
hen in the vicinity gave a startled cackle and started toward
the chicken house or into the brush near by. This sort of
thing had happened so often before that I knew there
must be some sort of hawk about. Looking around I saw
two birds not much larger than doves dashing about over
the pasture.

''Very well,'' I said to myself, "I will try to find time
to locate your nest and study you this summer.'' You are
perfectly harmless little fellot^s, and as far as I am con-
cerned you may nest where you please. It may be inter-
esting to see what you are about from time to time. There
are a good many mice in the field and about the poultry
yard, and if you will but decide to nest in the deserted
flicker's hole in the top of the old hickory tree you will

137

138 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

be given a royal welcome." With this I passed on. The
next time I saw him was two or three days later. He
was sitting on the very top of the old hickory tree where
lie could easily see everything that moved for a long dis-
tance; but I had no misgivings, for I knew that the spar-
row hawk feeds largely on grasshoppers, beetles, and mice.
It would be a benefit to have him rear a family so near, for
he was sure to catch most of the mice that were living on
the poultry feed and perhaps a few that stayed around the
other buildings. I was sorry, however, that the nest was
60 high and so far out on a dead limb that it would be im-
possible for me to climb to it with safety.

The next time I noticed Fleetwing I was crossing the
garden when a song sparrow flew by as if its very life
depended on its speed, and truly it did, for just behind was
Pleetwing. He was flying perhaps four or flve feet higher
than the sparrow and was gaining at every foot. I had no
idea a sparrow could fly so rapidly, but in spite of his best
efforts it looked as if he was doomed. There was a tree not
more than a hundred yards away and suddenly the spar-
row swerved from its course and flew directly toward this
tree. By making this shift she gained a few feet, but
quicker than I can tell it he had changed his direction also
and was again in full pursuit. The hawk was no more than
a rod behind the sparrow when it dashed into the tree and
the disappointed hawk swerved upward with a scream of
disappointment and flew back to the top of the hickory
tree. Then it became clear why Fleetwing occupied this
particular spot so much of the time. It was the highest
point near; no bird could fly across the pasture or garden
without being in sight, and he couiited on being able to
catch it before it got across.

FLEETWING THE SPARROW HAWK 139

I also understood why the smaller birds keep near trees.
I had never realized that hawks can not so easily catch a
bird when it is in a tree.

When the first little chickens were hatched I placed two
hundred in a coop on the grass not far from Fleetwing's
nest. I felt safe in doing this because a sparrow hawk is
not supposed often to feed on chickens ; but within a day or
two they began to disappear. Now began a real battle of
wits. I got a gun, a thing which I had not had in years, and
determined to shoot the hawks ; but they succeeded in out-
witting me. They managed to get three or four little
chickens every day; and while I might see them catch a
chicken, it was always either when I did not have my gun
or when I was too far away to shoot. I spent hours watch-
ing for the hawks, but they never came near until I left.
I did succeed, however, in learning exactly how these
birds kill their prey, for I not only saw them do it at
close range, but succeeded in scaring them away without
their having time to carry the chick with them. The
hawk watches until he feels sure of his prey, then swoops
downward straight as an arrow, strikes the bird in the
back vdth his talons, and with his powerful beak tears the
top of the head off. The point of the beak is sunk into the
base of the skull, and the skull is torn off with a swift for-
ward motion. I succeeded in getting a number of chick-
ens immediately after the hawk struck them, and every
one had the whole upper part of the skull torn off, the
brain exposed, and the medulla mangled with the point of
the hawk's beak. After having watched this I felt much
less antipathy toward hawks. True they kill for food, but
they kill in a merciful and painless way, their method
being instantaneous and almost painless. I have watched

140 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH' STORIES

the pigeon hawk kill larger chickens and they do it the
same way. Always the top of the head was torn off. It seems
remarkable that these birds know that the brain is a vital
spot and that of all the brain the medulla is the most vital.
Fleetwing and his mate raised five as sturdy youngsters as a
sparrow hawk could desire, and I did not succeed in get-
ting any of them.

In spite of their method of feeding sparrow hawks are
wonderful creatures. They alternate in sitting, the mother
bird sitting perhaps no more than her mate. They are'
equally alert and apparently equally successful hunters.
They show strong affection for each other, and while one
is sitting the other is quite sure to bring food at least once
every two or three hours. I have seen Fleetwing carry
food to his sitting mate frequently, but no more frequently
than I have seen her carry food to him when he was per-
forming the same duty.

When the youngsters were able to leave the nest the
parents began systematic teaching. The youngsters were
taken to the middle of a large pasture where the whole
family alighted on the ground. The first lesson consisted
in hunting beetles, grasshoppers, and crickets. Evidently
insects are considered an important item of food because
they are so easy to catch, and the youngsters must learn
what to do for a dinner in an emergency. A bird would
perch on a tall weed, or skip from weed to weed watching
the ground intently. Every few moments it would pounce
on a grasshopper or a butterfly.

Next they were taught to hunt mice. Then father and
mother would hover over the meadow and the young birds
soon Joined in the game. A hawk would fly over the
meadow until something attracted his attention below.

X

•^itt_

4&

-^^

THE SPARROW HAWK

FLEETWING THE SPARROW HAWK 141

Instantly he stopped and by fluttering his wings up and
down would hang almost still, moving neither downward
Clor upward. All the while he was watching for the least
movement on the earth below. If a mouse made the least
movement, quick as a flash the wings were turned backward
and the bird would fall like a bolt from the clear sky. Just
before striking the ground the tail was slightly tilted and
the wings spread just a little and the bird would strike
the mouse and glide up again without touching the earth.
This requires great skill. Sometimes hawks fall from
great heights and gain great momentum, but practise has
given them such skill in judging distances that they are
able so to adjust wings and tail that they can pick up an
animal, no matter how small, without striking the earth.
The next spring Fleetwing and his wife were on hand
with the first young chickens. I did not discover where they
nested that summer, but they were even more skilful in
catching little chicks than before. I am sure that this
pair of birds caught not less than one hundred little chick-
ens the second summer without my being able to prevent
it. The third summer they started preying on my chickens
again; but they were getting over-confident, feeling sure
they were able to outwit me. One day I hid behind the
qhicken house when both birds came for their breakfast.
As was customary they alighted on the old hickory tree to
locate the particular chicks they desired. I shot the
mother bird before she could get out of range, but did
not kill her. For two hours I followed the two from
place to place, never getting closer than a long range
shot. Three times I shot this bird, but Fleetwing never
deserted her. Wherever she went he went also, always
keeping nearest me in a vain effort to draw me after him.

142 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

Finally she alighted in the top of a tall tree, too badly
hurt to fly again. A fourth shot brought her to the
ground. Did this end my troubles? No, within three
weeks Pleetwing had a new mate and is still living in the
yicinity. He has, however, given up chicken stealing and
has confined himself to English sparrows and other legiti-
mate prey. The past season he nested in the timbers of
our water tank. So long as he leaves the chickens alone
be may live there undisturbed.

The sparrow hawk is one of the smallest of the true
falcons. We have three families of hawks, but the falcons
have always been most admired by man. Before guns
were invented, falcons were trained for hunting purposes.
The bird was carried to the field with a hood over his
head, and when game was sighted the hood was removed
and he was released. The better trained falcons would
frighten a goose, duck, or a heron, and chase it until it
flew almost directly over its master before striking it. Then
with one lightning swoop it would strike its victim,
either breaking its neck or crushing its skull, and seem-
ing to rejoice when it fell at the master's feet. In
Oriental countries some of the falcons were used even in
hunting deer.

Falcons are almost the only hawks that catch poultry
or do any considerable damage. Most other hawks are not
active enough in flight to catch many birds in mid-air.
They feed largely on rabbits, mice, rats, and other small
animals, and are a benefit rather than an injury to man.
Falcons can be recognized from the other hawks by their
trim, slender build, and their longer, narrower wings.
They do not sail about so much as do the other hawks,
but move with a quick, nervous motion. Many

FLEETWING THE SPARROW HAWK 143

of the falcons are beautifully colored and nearly all of
them are more or less spotted or streaked, especially on
the belly and breast. Practically all nest in the hollow
trees or on cMs or in some other inaccessible place.

XXII

SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWL

IT was one cold stormy day in February. All day the
wind had howled, and spiteful little gusts of snow had
sifted it down over the nest in the yawning hole. As the
twilight began to gather the mother bird arose and, stick-
ing her great horned head out of the hole, glanced sharply
about and then settled down again over five fuzzy little
babies that she had kept warm for the last thiry-six hours
without stirring from the nest. The storm should have
spent its fury by this time, but to her consternation there
was no sign of abatement. The babies must be fed, for
though most of the wildlings that kill for food must ac-
custom themselves to long periods without dining, her
babies were too young to fast for any great length of time.
Two nights ago her mate had brought them their first
taste of flesh and departed in quest of more, but now they
were chafing under the long wait for another feed. If only
the wind would settle and the sky clear she could go and
hunt ! But these babies were too young and too hungry to
stand the chill of cold snow sifting in over their backs, and
this was precisely what would happen if she left them now.
Why had not her mate come long ago, bringing provisions
for the family? She had heard him sound the terror cry
several times that night, and surely some foolish cMcKen

144

SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWL 145

must have lost its nerve enough to move or cackle at the
sound of that terrifying cry, but he had brought none home.
Later she had heard the report of a gun, but guns fired at
night seldom do harm, and surely so wise an owl as her
husband had not met disaster by this means. She would
patiently wait, for hunger was to be preferred to cold.

Moments passed into hours and still she waited. Near
morning the wind sank to rest and the moon shone forth
brilliantly. Hastily slipping out of the nest she sailed to
the top of the tallest tree in the neighborhood and began
scanning the landscape. Things were not altogether to her
liking, for the moon was full and its light on the new
fallen snow was blinding, but she must succeed in her quest
for food. While she was trying to decide which way to
go, Molly Cottontail and her foolish brother emerged from
the crabapple thicket and started a game of tag in the open
field near by. Back and forth they raced, rejoicing in the
feel of the soft snow, their minds wholly bent on the game.
This mighty hunter of the night knew that even two foolish
rabbits engaged in a game of tag would scurry to shelter
should a shadow fall across their path, so she flew around
the field keeping behind the tree tops so she could cross
the field '^up moon,^' so that her shadow would fall behind.
Swiftly she flew, silent as the shadows that flit across the
field. Molly ran down the field and squatted behind a
little bush and waited to startle her playmate when he
should come dashing past in pursuit, but she waited in
vain. ^h.e silent wings swooped downward and, with a
scream of triumph that was meant to tell the waiting babies
that all was well, the great bird carried the warm limp
form to the nesthole. Without thinking too much about
the fate of her husband and the outlook for the future,

146 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

the mother settled down content with the present, glad
that she had selected for their home the great hollow
tree that grew on the very bank of the river where she
could always pnt its watery breadth between her and her
enemies should danger appear.

In the meantime her husband, wounded and sore, was
trying to find a way of escape from the corn crib in a
neighbor's barn. On the night when he left home he had
flown directly to a barnlot where past experience taught
him that he would find white chickens roosting in trees.
Alighting in the top of a great elm, he looked about for
the chickens, but they were nowhere to be seen. Knowing
he could not see colored fowls unless they moved, he sent
forth his mighty challenge, but nothing moved except a
mouse in the edge of the straw sack. His wonderfully
acute ear caught the sound and there being no intimation
of larger game, he flew directly to the spot and caught the
mouse. Great horned owls prefer larger game than mice,
but on a cold winter^s night nothing that will do to eat is to
be despised, especially when there is a hungry family at
home. Hastily swallowing the mouse, he flew back to the
tree and again gave his challenge. Still nothing stirred.
Seeing and hearing nothing, he flew directly to the top of
the pole in the middle of the haystack, where he felt that
he could get a nearer view of the house which the man had
made for his chickens; but as he alighted, he was startled
by a snapping noise and something caught his leg that
burned like fire. Hastily taking flight, he was jerked
back by the chain of a steel trap and each time he tried to
escape he succeeded only in hurting his leg. 0, the agony
of the hours that followed ! Over and over he tugged and
strained, sometimes flying this way, sometimes that, and

SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWL 147

then, when exhausted, hanging by the chain with his head
down. Finally, at his wits' end, he alighted on the top of
the pole and was sitting there resting on his uninjured
foot when daylight came.

He did not flinch when the man came near, but, ruffling
his feathers and snapping his bill, he was ready to defend
himseK to the last. But what could he do? When the
man came near he attempted to use the talons on the un-
injured foot, but he could not cling to the pole with the
injured one and so again suffered the agony of hanging
by the chain. He was taken from the trap and put into
the corn crib, where the boy saw him a day or two later.
There were plenty of mice in this crib and he was expected
to become a pet for the privilege of being confined where
he could catch the mice that were playing havoc in the
corn. That was why he brought no more food to the
hungry family.

Things ran on as usual the latter part of February and
the first of March. One day was warm and the next
stormy, with fiurries of snow interspersed with sleet and
rain. The mother owl was sadly handicapped with five
baby mouths to feed and no one to help; but she never
whimpered, and never did it occur to her that she might
desert her family.

Ringtail the coon lived hard by, and for a week or two
the poor mother never left home without the deepest con-
cern lest he, while prowling about for his supper, should
happen to poke his nose in the hollow tree and discover the
precious babies. Ringtail, however, knew the terrors of a
great horned owFs talons, and somewhere back in his wise
little head was stored the knowledge that if hunger pinches
too hard these mighty hunters do not hesitate to catch even

148 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

a full grown coon. His sensitive nose told him that a
great horned owl lived in this hollow tree, but to him it
would have been the height of presumption to investigate
her home.

The boy had a habit of wandering up and down the river
in search of whatever story he might discover. About a
week after the catching of the father owl he happened by
the nest. By this time the babies inside were growing rap-
idly, and already the fluffy fuzz was beginning to give
place to pin-feathers. They no longer needed careful
brooding, and often the mother elected to roost in the
clump of swamp willows a hundred feet from the nest.
Here she felt more secure both because she could more
easily get away if danger came and because if she had to
flee from these willows she would not hetray the location
of the precious nest.

The boy happened to stumble into this clump of willows.
The sun was bright and its reflection from the snow
that had fallen the night before made such a dazzling
light that when the owl awakened she merely straightened
up, blinked her eyes, raised her horns to their greatest
height, and began looking around to locate the intruder.

The boy knew that in spite of the fact that great horned
owls were believed to be plentiful because of the large num-
bers of poultry they carried away, in all probability there
were no more thaa one pair in the neighborhood. Looking
about for the mate to this owl, his eye fell on the hollow
tree. At nesting time owls seldom sleep far from home,
and the boy expected not only to find another owl nearby
but hoped to locate the nest. Great horned owls usually
build a giant stick nest two and a half or three feet in
diameter on a spreading limb not far from the trunk of

SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWL 149

some great tree. As careful examination did not reveal
such a nest, the boy turned his attention to the poor blinded
owl that sat blinking on the limb. Stealthily he moved,
in the hope that he might get near enough to catch the
bird before it saw him. Just as he thought her within
his reach, she became aware of his presence and flew
directly across the river.

The boy was about to move on when it occurred to him
that the other owl might be roosting in this hollow tree.
Placing a fallen limb against the trunk, he climbed up and
peeped in, and what was his surprize to see not one pair
of great eyes staring at him, but five pairs, and hearing the
snap of not one bill but of five. The boy remembered the
owl in the neighbor's corn crib, and it occurred to him
that here was the nest of that owl with only the mother to
care for the family.

The fright of being aroused in the daytime over, these
young owls began to make a soft, murmuring noise plead-
ing for food. The boy always fed any young birds that
he could induce to eat, if it were possible. He had a few
small minnows with him, so cutting them in pieces with
his jack-knife, he fed the five hungry birds. There is no
food that a great homed owl relishes so much as fish,
though few ever learn to catch it for themselves. They do
not usually feed on carcasses, but so fond are they of fish
that when a dead one is found it is eagerly devoured.
Wlien he put his hand in the nest with the first piece of
fish all but one of the young birds crowded to the furthest
corner of the hole. Snapping his little bill, this one
boldly caught the boy's hand with his baby talons and
started to defend himself. But the smell of the fish soon
quieted his fear, and he allowed himself to be fed. One

J50 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

after another the others overcame their fears and dined
for the first time on fish. The boldness of Silent Wing
won the boy's heart, and he determined when the proper
time came to take him as a pet.

Ever afterwards, when the boy visited the nest, Silent
Wing always showed greater boldness and was more
friendly than any of the others. He and the boy became
great friends, and the boy learned to recognize him and to
distinguish him from his fellows.

After the birds were fed they felt assured of the good
intentions of their visitor, and permitted him to take them
cut of the nest and set them in a row on the limb, tho
they protested against the blinding light by snapping
their bills and blinking their great golden eyes in the most
droll way. Soon, one after another, they began to doze
off, and the boy put them back into the nest and went
his way with the determination to visit them as often as
possible; but he kept to himself the secret of their ex-
istence.

The great horned owl is one of the largest American
owls. It has a spread of wing of four or five feet, and often
grows large enough to kill a half grown turkey and carry
it off. It lives largely on poultry, the larger wild birds,
and rabbits or squirrels, tho occasionally it catches even
opossums and woodchucks. Most varieties of owls are bene-
ficial, living on mice, rats, and other small rodents and
large insects. In the early days, when these owls were
plentiful and poultry houses all but unknown, they earned
such a reputation as chicken thieves that the whole owl
race has suffered at the hands of man ever since. This
owl is still occasionally met in practically every State of
the union. It has such an abundance of warm fluffy

SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWL 151

feathers that it does not mind the most intense cold and
for this reason those in the United States do not migrate,
tho if food becomes scarce in one neighborhood they may
move to another.

A few days before our birds were ready to leave the nest
the duck hunter of the neighborhood happened by. This
man killed not alone for the fun of killing but for the fun
of telling about it later. To kill a great horned owl would
furnish something to talk about in his favorite loafing
places for days to come. Wild geese and ducks were com-
ing in abundance and he was now tramping up and down
the river almost every day, from long before sunrise till it
was too dark to shoot.

And so he came to the hollow nest tree. What is the
need of telling more ? His sharp eye detected the owl doz-
ing in the willows. She heard him and promptly started
to cross the river, but even a river is no protection against
swift-flying duck shot. She fell in the middle of the
stream, whether dead or alive the hunter never knew or
cared, and was soon carried out of sight by the current.
On the way home that evening he passed the boy's house
and after showing his string of ducks incidentally men-
tioned killing the owl. Then the boy knew it was '*up to
him.'' These birds must not starve. One he might hope to
keep at home as a pet but never would he be allowed five.

That night his trusty target rifle was given a thorough
cleaning and early the next morning he sallied forth to se-
cure a supply of rabbit meat to feed his wards. Sour milk
curd was abundant just then and that would make a wel-
come addition to the stock of provisions, and a few days'
care was all the fledglings could hope to receive. The
boy's mother was always a sympathizer and a confederate

152 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

imder such conditions, and as it was two miles to the nest
tlie boy decided to make a confident of her, for otherwise
it might prove hard to get away to feed his wards. She
consented to the care of the birds and suggested that he
move the entire family to the old hay barrack, where they
might be conveniently fed, trusting that their inherent
shyness would lead them to leave the place as soon as they
were able to fly, but this proved not to be necessary. When
the boy went for his wards he foimd sitting on a limb near
the nest an owl with one foot swollen and crooked, show-
ing plainly that it had been injured at no far distant
time ; and when he looked in the nest he found the remains
of a Plymouth rock chicken that the young birds had not
been able entirely to devour. Discreet inquiry revealed the
fact that the day before the corn crib door had been left
ajar for a few moments and the captive owl had escaped.
Loyal soul that he was, he returned to his family too late
indeed to find his faithful mate, but in time to save the
young from starvation. With the boy's occasional help he
fed the family, the members of which were soon able to
care for themselves. For some time after the young birds
were able to leave the nest they followed the father at
night, not only begging for food but learning the ways of
the woods and how to catch a living for themselves. Then
they scattered never to come together again as a family.

The great horned owl is also a solitary bird. Even
where most abundant, seldom more than one lives within
a radius of a mile or more, except in nesting time. In-
stinctively, the young scatter miles apart as soon as they
are strong and wise enough to care for themselves.

Unlike many owls, they sail readily and gracefully,
rising, falling, and moving forward without the necessity

SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWLi 153

of flapping a wing. They are typical owls^ having the
characteristic shorty stout^ hooked beak, the large eyes with
rosette-like feather discs around them, the short stout tail,
and the sharp, powerful talons. Owls are usually easy to
identify by these marks, and by the fact that with one or
two exceptions our owls hunt by night and sleep by day.

The great horned owl has a variety of calls. Sometimes
he utters a cry closely resembling the rapid, staccato bark-
ing of a cur dog. Again he shrieks much like the cry of a
panther or the scream of a woman in distress. More often
he utters a deep "whoo, hoo, hoo.'^ He moves his beak and
even the whole body in the most grotesque way when
uttering these sounds, snapping his bill loudly in the
intervals.

Things ran along as they do in the busy life of every
country boy until threshing time came. One evening an
hour before sundown, the threshing machine unexpectedly
pulled into the yard, and his father, realizing that no pro-
vision had been made for help, started out on horseback to
notify the neighbors with whom he expected to exchange
work that the machine had come.

Stalker's woods, a heavy body of timber of some eighty
acres in extent, lay between the boy's home and that of his
married sister, and through these woods the boy as mes-
senger must pass to reach her home. He was too young
to notify the neighbors of the situation, but he could walk
across the fields to notify his married sister that her help
was needed in the kitchen the next day. Dan Scott had told
the boy so many stories of witches, ghosts, hobgoblins, etc.,
that he was afraid to poke his head out of doors after
dark. With fast beating heart he set out on his trip, hoping
that he might make the return trip early enough to get

164 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

through this dreadful piece of woods before dark. But
hurry as he might, the sun set before he reached his des-
tination. Knowing he could not stay over night and
ashamed to ask someone to accompany him home, he de-
livered his message and started homeward as fast as his
weary legs could carry him. When he entered the woods
twilight was already falling, and before he reached the
other side it was dark. This was the first time the boy had
ever been out alone after dark, and the fact that he was
in the very woods where a coyote had been seen only three
days before, where also wild cats were still believed to live,
did not add to his peace of mind. When he was nearly
through the woods he heard a "snap, snap" in a tree near
by, and then the most unearthly, blood-curdling scream
to which he had ever listened. The screaming of a woman
who is being murdered added to the sobs and sighs of the
lost could not be more terrible. The boy's hair rose up
straight on his head. The cold sweat came out on his brow.
He tried to run, but his feet were rooted to the ground.
The agony of ages followed. A second blood-curdling
scream came from the tree just over his head and then
followed the softest, gentlest ^'Whoo-hoo-hoo,'' and a
great homed owl alighted almost by the boy's side. Re-
lieved ? Well, rather ! He knew that this owl was not at-
tacking him, and then he recalled his father's stories of
how the scream of the great horned owl, although heard
only at rare intervals, can scarcely be distinguished from
that of the female panther. Undoubtedly this was Silent
Wing, who was hunting in these woods and recognized the
boy as his one time friend and in the best way
he knew was expressing his delight at finding him again.
This bird would not quite allow the boy to catch him.

SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWL 155

but when the boy started on, he flew from tree to tree,
snapping his bill after the manner of his race, and when
the boy left the woods and entered the big road the owl
flew out across the open field in search of his supper.

One evening during our usual January thaw a female
owl flew to our grove, and alighted near the grapevine play-
house. By some accident (or was it an accident?) Silent
Wing flew directly across the fields from Stalker's woods
and alighted in the same tree. The call of spring was
strong in his veins — the mating call of the wildlings.
Silent Wing no sooner saw her ladyship than he knew he
wanted her and he wanted her right now.

So he began bowing his head, ruffling his feathers, rais-
ing his wings and spreading his wings in a curious manner,
making himself appear so ridiculous that the boy in the
grapevine swing would have laughed outright had he not
been fearful they would leave. Aside from watching his
antics, she took no notice of his presence. Growing more
earnest, he began hopping from branch to branch, continu-
ing his maneuvers and snapping his biU fiercely as if to
show that even tho he was not so large as she, what he
lacked in size he made up in bravery.

Finally, he attempted to approach and caress her but she
ruffled her feathers and rebuked him sharply. He took
flight, sailing up and down, around and around, evidently
doing all the stunts of his race, now and again punctuat-
ing his efforts bj'' snapping his bill. After a few moments
he ahghted again and began his bowing and dancing aU
over again.

A rabbit came running down the bank and its white
flag caught his eye. Rising in noiseless flight, he sailed
downward without the flap of a Vising, caught his prey from

166 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH' STORIES

the ground, glided back into the tree, and presented his
offering to his lady love. Apparently, she was convinced
of his sincerity. Together they devoured the rabbit, and
when he again began his love dance she joined in with as
much enthusiasm as he. The last the boy saw of Silent
"Wing he and his bride were flying across the fields toward
Skunk River.

Key to the Families of Raptores

Birds with firm plumage.

Cathartid^ — American Vultures.

Large birds with the head entirely unfeathered, the nostrils longi-
tudinal, and the hind toe elevated.

Pandionid^e — Ospreys.
Rather large birds with sharp, strong, curved claws all of the same
length ; head feathered ; hind toe on the same level as the other toes,
and the outer toe reversible.

Falconid^e — Falcons and Caracaras.

Small or rather large birds with characters similar to Pandionid^,
but with outer toe not reversible, and claws not all of the same
length ; nostrils circular with a central tubercle, or narrow and set
obliquely with the lower end anterior,

AcciPiTRiD^ — Hawks and Eagles.

Birds of small or large size, similar in characters to Falconid-b,
but with nostrils not circular nor narrow and set obliquely with the
lower end anterior.

Birds with rather soft plumage.
BuEONiD^ — Horned Owls.

With eyes directed forward and surrounded by disks of feathers,

and inner toe shorter than middle toe.
Tytonid^ — Barn Owls.

With eyes directed forward and surrounded by disks of feathers,

but inner toe as long as the middle toe.

Foot of Typical Hawk

XXIII

,THE BELTED KINGFISHER

IT was my first trip to the lakes and woods of Michigan,
and everything seemed strange and new. I was well
acquainted with the birds, plants, and fishes of our own
woods in southeastern Iowa, but here things were dif-
ferent. I never before had seen anything nearer the size
of a lake than the ponds along Skunk Eiver, which owe
their existence to the overflowing of the river from time to
time. At the first opportunity I wandered into the woods
by myself merely to see what I could find. I had heard
many stories of the wild animals that still roamed in these
woods, and had been told that bears, wild cats, and Canada
lynx were frequently caught. I had spent days and weeks in
the woods, and knew that the wildlings, when not pressed
by extreme hunger, are harmless; so it was the farthest
thing from my thoughts to be afraid, but I was on the
alert for new things. Even the trees were different from
those at home, not only because they were of different
kinds, but because of the different soil and climate; even
the varieties with which I had been familiar all my life
looked different.

Pushing through the underbrush in search of a flower
I had seen at a distance I stumbled unexpectedly on a
beautiful little brook, and almost at the same instant was

157

158 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

startled by a rattling crackle from sometliing near by. I
coaldn't imagine what it could be. No animal of which I
had ever heard would give utterance to such a sound, and I
was sure no bird could have so unearthly and unmusical
a cackle as this. Freezing in my tracks, I began peering
up and down the creek to see what I had disturbed, but
nothing was in sight. The challenge had been so sudden
and unexpected that I was not sure from what direction it
had come, and as I was unwilling to let anything so un-
usual go unexplained and felt sure that whatever I had
disturbed would return, I settled myself by the edge of
the water to see what would happen. When I became con-
vinced that the creature was not in sight, I turned my at-
tention to other things. I had not been accustomed to
brooks so clear that one could see what the fishes in them
were doing as readily as one can see those in the globe on
the parlor table. But here I could see dozens of croppies,
coontailed bass, and sunfish as beautifully colored as any
goldfish could be. Anxious to study these creatures, I
moved over on a log that had fallen partly in the water,
and began my childhood tactics of coaxing the fish to come
near by throwing grasshoppers into the water. At first,
all were shy, but hunger was insistent, and finally one fish
after another got enough courage to dart up and swallow
a grasshopper; finally seeing no harm come of it, they
grew so tame that they did not hesitate to swim within
touch of my hand, and one of the boldest even ventured to
take a kicking grasshopper out of my fingers.

All this doubtless had consumed several hours, for when
one becomes interested in the little creatures about him,
time passes without notice. Finally, I became conscious
that a bird had alighted on the limb of an old snag that

THE BELTED KINGFISHER 159

was eticking out over the water and not twenty steps
away, and looking up, I was dumfounded to see a great
awkward bird that seemed all head and bill. This bird was
whoUy new to me, and of course the fish were forgotten
in the new interest. I had never seen a picture or heard
anything that gave me any clue to what this bird was.
Presently the bird straightened up, ruffled his topknot,
and looked more grotesque than ever. Then he settled
down quietly to watch the water. Evidently he had not
noticed me, and I sat immovable — the only way one can
become really acquainted with the wildlings. For perhaps
ten or fifteen minutes he sat perfectly still, and then with-
out warning this strange bird apparently fell off his perch
head first into the water. He dropped straight and stiff
as an arrow, and it was not until I saw him rising out of
the water with a fish gleaming in his bill that I became
aware that he had not had a stroke of apoplexy, but was
really alive and that this was his method of earning a liv-
ing. He lighted on the snag from which he had fallen
and began vigorously hammering his prize on the limb.
When he was convinced that the poor fish was beaten into
insensibility he flew up the brook carrying it with him.

Already the sun was low in the west, and tho I was re-
luctant to go without learning more about this interesting
stranger, I turned homeward. As soon as I met some one
who I thought would take some interest in the matter, I
told the story of what I had seen, and to my surprize
found that I had made no discovery at all, but was merely
telling the story of one of our best known and most widely
distributed birds, the belted kingfisher.

I have since traveled much in almost every part of these
United States, and have found these birds practically

160 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

everywhere with the exception of my own home country,
the southeastern part of Iowa. There the water is usually
too muddy for fish to be seen. There is some variation in
the size of this bird in the different parts of the country,
but the difference is not great. Everywhere this solitary
bird reigns supreme as the king of fishers. He never
has time to play and knows nothing of song save the rat-
tling "Rickety, crick, crick, crick'^ which he sends forth
when he sees an unwelcome stranger in his domain, and
he waits for this until he is on the wing and safe out of
gunshot.

A few years ago, on the banks of White's Creek, near
Nashville, Tennessee, I had an opportunity to study the
kingfisher at leisure and to watch his home life. Unlike
most birds, the kingfisher does not seem to mind the cold.
As long as there is open water and good fishing, he does
not migrate, no matter what the temperature. I have seen
him in Montana fishing in the mountain streams when
the thermometer stood at thirty or forty degrees below
zero without seeming to mind the cold in the least ; and he
was the same busy silent fisher that I had seen in the
middle of the Michigan summer. So in Tennessee I was
not surprized to find him on the same sycamore limb
almost every day in the year.

The kingfisher is a solitary bird, and loves nothing so
well as to be alone ; but after the high water in the spring
of 1912 two kingfishers decided they would forego the
privilege of being alone for the privilege of raising a
family, and that it was time to get busy. After flying up
and down the creek together, examining every bank that
looked as tho it might be above high water mark, they
selected a spot about ten feet above low water level, and

THE BELTED KINGFISHER 161

started scooping out a hole in the side of a mud bank,
using their mighty bills as we would a pick. A quantity
of earth was torn loose, and then scratched away with
their claws. By persistent hard work they soon had a
tunnel in the side of the bank three or four feet deep and
perhaps three or four inches in diameter.

This hole did not run straight, but twisted to one side
about a foot from the entrance, and then sloped up a lit-
tle. I have dug out very few kingfisher's nests, but they
all ran back five or six feet into the bank, and I have never
seen one that went in straight, tho other persons report that
they often follow a straight course. At the back end of this
hole a little enlargement was made in the earth, and a
few pieces of grass were piled about; hardly enough to be
called a nest, just enough to show that mother kingfisher
felt it her duty to do something. I did not see the egg^
and do not know whether one was laid every day or not.
The fact is, I did not care to disturb the nest because
I wished to watch the development of the family.

In May the mother must have begun sitting, for then I
seldom saw more than one bird at a time. But about the
last of June both the birds were to be seen again, actively
fishing most of the time, so I took it for granted that the
young were hatched, and were old enough not to require
much brooding. The mother bird, however, did her fishing
nearer the precious hole than did the male, tho I do not
know that she would have done anything if an animal had
bothered the nest. Certain it is that when I would go to
the mouth of the nest hole, she would fly away with the
same rasping, rattling cackle she would have used if there
had been no nest in the vicinity, and would not return
until I had left the place. Probably she felt that her deep

162 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

excavation in the bank was all the protection her babies
required. But with the large number of snakes that lived
along that creek, every one of which had the habit of
crawling into holes, it has always been a mystery to me
that none of them bothered the young kingfishers. More
than that, Bobby Mink traveled up and down the creek
every night catching crawfish, minnows, and anything
else that came in his way. Knowing that the mink has a
habit of poking his nose into every hole he passes and is
never content to stop until he has explored it to the end,
I have wondered that he did not dine here, but doubtless
the mother bird was in the hole at night and her powerful,
sharp beak ought to be sufficient weapon to drive away
even a hungry mink.

Then both birds were even more absorbed in fishing
than usual, but as at that time there were schools of min-
nows everywhere, it was not difficult to catch plenty even
for a family of five babies.

I had supposed that a kingfisher was very sure to make
a catch when he dove for a fish, but, whether or not neces-
sity led them to take greater chances than ordinarily, these
birds missed fully twice as often as they succeeded in
catching the fish after which they dove. I often watched
one of these birds sitting on a sycamore limb over a favor-
ite pool. A white gleam would flash from the water, show-
ing that a minnow was playing beneath, when there would
immediately be a splash in the water. If the bird failed to
make a catch, she usually promptly returned to the same
limb and waited patiently for an opportunity to try again.
If she caught her minnow, she usually flew directly to the
nest without stopping to kill it. She alighted on a stone
near the entrance, however, and beat the fish over the stone

THE BELTED KINGFISHER 163

a niimber of times before entering the hole, tho I do not
think she ate it.

When the young were half grown, they usually met their
mother at the entrance of the hole. This never seemed
to please her very well, for she steadily refused to feed
them until they were well back under the ground. Of
course this meant that I could not see her feed them at
all. A young kingfisher is the most awkward, ungainly,
ugly looking bird I have ever seen. Every feature of the
old bird is exaggerated in the babies. They have such
disportionately small feet and legs, and such ridiculously
small naked bodies, crowned with such a large ugly head,
that it is hard to see any beauty in them.

When the young birds were able to fly, which was about
the middle of July, I dug out the nest, and it was a
filthy sight. Most birds are cleanly in their habits, and
are especially particular about their housekeeping, but
not so with the kingfisher. The nest hole was a reeking
mass of putrified fish, feces, bones, etc. The kingfisher
must have a great deal of resistance to disease in order
to be able to live and thrive imder such filthy conditions.

The young birds did not remain in the neighborhood of
the nest more than a few days, but those few days were
busy ones, for in that brief time the mother was teaching
her children how to earn a living. She would perch by
their side on an overhanging limb and patiently wait for
the glimmer of a fish below. The first day or two she
usually caught the fish, beat it into partial insensibility and
then dropped it again into the water. The young were
persistent in their plea for food, but the mother was as
insistent that they catch their living if they got any. There
was very little current where they hunted, and a fish did

164 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGHi STORIES

not float out of sight quickly. The young birds would
crane their necks and look hungrily at the fish below until
finally one more hungry or more bold than the rest would
make a dive for it. At first the aim was not good, and the
bird would miss even a dead fish more often than he suc-
ceeded in catching it. Usually, however, he fluttered about
the surface of the water until he got his fish, even tho he
had missed it when he made his plunge. Old birds never
hover about the water if they have missed their aim, for
they have learned that there is a vast difference between
a live active fish and one that is stunned and half dead.
During the first few days when the young birds became
too hungry, the mother would occasionally relent and feed
them, but before the week was over, no matter how hungry
they became, no food was coming until they caught it.
Within ten days the young birds were catching live fish
instead of half dead ones.

Then a young bird would catch his fish, carry it to his
perch, whack it over the limb a few times, toss it in the
air, catch it by the head as it came down and swallow
it with as much skill as his mother. As soon as she was
convinced of the skill of each of her brood, she forsook
them entirely. I do not know whether she ultimately
drove them from the neighborhood or whether they left
voluntarily, but when July was past only the old birds
were to be seen in the neighborhood. I became too busy
to watch them longer, so never knew whether they reared
more than one brood that summer or not. I do know that
long before frost the pair had parted, her ladyship keeping
the good fishing ground in the vicinity of the nest, while
her spouse fished alone a half mile up the creek.

The kingfisher is an exception to the general rule

THE BELTED KINGFISHER 165

among birds and animals. The female is more bril-
liantly colored than her spouse. She is easily recognized
from the fact that she alone has the rufous belt across her
abdomen. She is easily the head of her household, and
usually has the best of everything.

Kingfishers are common in other countries, and there
are a great many kinds varying in size from no larger
than a sparrow to birds larger than a small crow. They
belong to the family Alcedinidce, and can always be rec-
ognized by the large head often with the feathers sticking
straight up, the long sharp beak, the powerful wings,
and the short stubby tail. No other bird looks much like
them. Our own kingfisher is about thirteen inches long
from the end of his beak to the end of his tail. His back
and upper parts are a blue gray, with light and dark
spots on his wings and tail. His throat and upper breast,
as well as his belly, are snow white. The white on his
throat extends completely around his neck, which makes
one think he is wearing a high, stiff collar. There is a
broad belt of blue gray which extends completely across
the breast from the butt of the wings downward about two
inches, which at a distance gives the appearance of a
black hand. The feathers on the head stick up like the
hair on the head of a ten-year-old boy. His feet are very
small, not much larger than those of a sparrow, yet they
are large enough for him to use in scratching away the
dirt when making a nest hole and to enable him to sit on a
limb. As he never tries to walk or hop, he has no use
for better feet and legs. Some of the foreign kingfishers
are brilliant in color, some even being a bright green, but
their habits are much the same. They love nothing so
much as solitude and a good clear stream of water in

166 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

which is an abundance of minnows, tho a few varieties live
in the forest far from water and eat insects. Even there
they are contented to be wholly alone. They live in pairs
only during the nesting season.

Key to the Families of Coccyges

Alcedinidje — Kingfishers.

With 3 toes in front and 1 behind,
CucuLiD^ — Cuckoos,

With 2 toes in front and 2 behind, but with the anterior toes separated

to their bases.
Troconid^k — Trogons.

With 2 toes in front and 2 behind, but with the anterior toea united

for their basal half.

xxiv;

PICUS THE FLICKER

WHEN I built my house in the vicinity of Nashville,
Tennessee, I selected a site at the foot of a hill in a
beautiful grove at some distance from the pike, where the
birds could live their natural lives undisturbed by pass-
ing vehicles. The family moved into the house in the fall.
One morning the next February we were wakened by a
tremendous drumming on an old tin can. My good wife
aroused at once and asked what was making all that racket.
We listened a few moments and it came again, a perfect
tattoo of drumming. My reply was that spring was open-
ing and evidently some woodpecker was out hunting for a
wife. We peeked out of the window and sure enough a
gallant young flicker sat on an old five gallon tin can some
one had dropped about two or three hundred feet away on
the side of the hill.

The flicker is one of the most widely distributed and
best known of woodpeckers. It is about the size of a
meadow lark or a robin, and the Eastern forms are easily
recognized from most other woodpeckers by the fact that
their wing and tail feathers have yellow shafts and are
shaded yellowish, which gives them more or less of a gold-
en appearance when they fly ; and from the fact that they
are spotted and speckled with black while the general color

167

168 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

of the upper parts of the body is a golden brown with a
white rump. There is a red streak on the back of the head,
and the belly is whitish, spotted, and marked with black.

They are jolly, saucy fellows^ flitting about, chasing each
other from tree to tree, and giving utterance to a "whick-
ety, whickety, whickety, whick/' Then one will call
"Keeler'^ once or twice, and away he goes to another tree.
You can recognize a woodpecker from any other bird from
the fact that he perches on the side of trees and large limbs,
uses his tail for a prop, and every little while pecks the
wood. The bill is strong and sharp so that it cuts the wood
easily. The head is rather large and the neck strong,
which gives great power for pecking. The tongue is sharp,
pointed, and barbed so that it can easily be stuck into a
bole and made to pierce a grub and draw it out. They
peck wood largely in order to get the grubs which are liv-
ing in it. These grubs are much liked by these birds, are
a welcome addition to their food in winter, and together
with ants and bugs are the principal food in summer. I
have never been able to decide just how a woodpecker
knows where a grub is located, but I do know that they
do not peck wood just anywhere but in some way locate a
grub before they begin pecking. On the other hand they
tap here and there, possibly listening for a hollow sound
before making a hole. Some of the small woodpeckers,
however, make a great many holes in trees, pecking just
deeply enough to draw the sap. "We are told that they
drink the sap as it oozes out, but this is not their only
reason for wishing the sap to run. They learned long ago
how to sugar for insects.

"When I am collecting moths, butterflies, and other in-
sects I sometimes mix a preparation of sugar sirup and

PICUS THE FLICKER 169

fruit juice and put it on the bark of a tree here and there.
After a few hours I go back to the trees to see what is
feeding it. When the insects have had time to find it, I
am quite sure to discover many insects every time I make
my rounds. Of course most of them are just ordinary
varieties that I do not care for, but sooner or later I find
something worth while.

Now Mr. Sapsucker^s feet and legs are not formed so
as to permit him to go into the meadow and catch insects
like a mocking bird or a robin^ and yet he must live.
Therefore he pecks holes in limbs and then comes back
from time to time and feeds on the insects the sap has
attracted. He knows full well when the sap will flow in
the various trees and does very little drilling when the
sap is not running. However, I must not spend too much
time on woodpeckers in general but must get back to Picus.

Picus continued his drumming on the old tin can at
intervals during the day, and early the second morning
we were again wakened by his tattoo. Evidently there was
a flicker maiden somewhere in the woods who heard and
came to see what sort of gentleman it was that could drum
so much louder and make so much more wonderful music
than any of the young gentlemen of her acquaintance.
Surely a bird which could peck like that ought to be able
to provide grubs in abundance for a family. At any rate
when I peeped out the second morning to see Picus drum,
I saw this maiden alight on a limb just above his drum.
Here she danced about in the characteristic flicker man-
ner and attracted the attention of Picus, busily engaged
as he was in beating his drum. Clearly it was a case of
love at first sight on his part for he immediately left the
» can and alighted on the limb not six inches from her

170 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

side. Then began a series of acting that was so human
as to be amusing. The young lady looked up as if per-
fectly surprized, as much as to say, "Where did you
come from ? I did not suppose there was a young gentle-
man in all the woods/' He bowed and whicked, "How
do you do?^ She promptly flew away to the next tree,
wishing to have it distinctly understood that she did not
talk to strange young gentlemen.

Picus sat still for a few minutes^ craning his neck to see
where she went, and then flew to the limb just above her,
precisely as she hoped and expected he would do. He
did not make his advances so boldly this time, but danced
about the limb, examining it on all sides very carefully for
a worm, while she sat demurely on her branch totally ob-
livious of his presence. When he became satisfied he was
getting nowhere by dancing about on his limb he hopped
down beside his lady love and began to whick, "Fine day
this morning.^' More insulted than ever, away she flew;
but while the^e were a thousand acres of trees to which
she might have gone she flew only fifty or sixty feet.

This went on for perhaps an hour, when another gentle-
man flicker appeared on the scene and began to press his
suit. To an outside observer it was evident from the first
that this young lady had her heart set on Picus, but it
was far from her to let him discover this as yet. Accord-
ingly she received the attentions of the new arrival with
apparent favor and allowed him to alight on the limb
beside her and together they danced round and round the
limb, whickety, whickety, whicketying as friendly as could
be. Poor Picus did not seem to feel that matters had
gone far enough for him to have any particular rights
in the matter so away he went back to his can and began

PICUS THE FLICKER 171

to dram lustily. And would you believe it, as soon as he
Lad left the red oak tree this flicker maiden pounced on
his rival and drove him away and then deliberately flew
back to her perch above Picus and his drum! Of course
she wasn't interested in Picus, but there might happen to
be a fat grub in this tree !

In due time Picus saw her and the performance started
over again. By noon the third day things were beginning
to be interesting. When the courtship was at its height I
saw at one time six flickers — Picus, his lady love, and four
other suitors — on a large dead limb in the top of a giant
oak tree. If you had been there and watched their actions
without having f oUowed the romance for the past two days
I am sure you never would have been able to tell which
of the suitors she favored.

I was not present when the matter was finally settled,
but on the morning of the fourth day when Picus played
his morning tune on the tin dram, the young lady alighted
on a tree near by, but she did not fly away when he
alighted by her and began Iovb making. Instead they
nodded and chatted as friendly as could be, and then flew
together to the dead limb in the top of the great red oak
tree and began looking it over very carefully — for what
purpose I was not quite sure. This time when some of
her less fortunate suitors appeared, Picus did not hesitate
to let them know how matters stood, and his lady love,
with all her love for flirting, soon made it evident that
their presence was no longer welcome. When I came home
to dinner that day a new hole had been pecked more than
an inch deep in the side of a limb in the great oak.

For nearly two weeks these woodpeckers played, hunted,
made love, and worked at their nest by turns. Judging

172 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH' STORIES V

from the pieces of wood they threw out, they must have
made their nest hole at least twelve or fourteen inches
deep. It was too high and too dangerous for me to attempt
to climb to it, but judging from many similar flicker nests
I have seen, it went into the side of the limb an inch or
so and then turned and ran downward. The hole in the
side of the limb was just large enough to admit a bird
nicely but was much larger inside, roomy enough, in fact,
to house both birds nicely, or even to hold a half dozen
full grown birds without overcrowding. The bottom was
rounded out a bit and a few feathers may have been car-
ried in, or they may have neglected this unnecessary work.
Before the middle of March the eggs were laid; perfectly
round eggs as white as alabaster and so transparent that
if you held one up to the light you could see the yolk
plainly through the shell.

While the nest building was going on Picus never failed
to beat his drum every morning, and his good wife never
failed to show her pride in the fact that he was the most
powerful musician in all the woods. Evidently the great-
est feat a woodpecker can perform is to beat a long, loud,
rolling tattoo on his drum. Every male flicker, and every
male red-headed woodpecker for that matter, selects a
drumming place early in the spring and there he drums
every day through the breeding season. He will search for
hours and even days to find a place that is resonant; if
at any time during the summer he chances to find a place
where he can make more noise, he promptly forsakes the
first for it.

As the boards on the comb of a house or barn are apt
to be the best sounding boards in the neighborhood wood-
peckers often choose these places for their morning song.

PICUS THE FLICKER 173

I remember very well on the old farm it was always a
race between the chimney swift and the woodpecker on
the comb of the house to see who would have the honor of
wakening the family. I have known a woodpecker to find
a weather board that was loose enough to rattle well and
peck on it until he had pecked a hole through the side of
the house. At one time the tin that fitted around our
chimney became loose on one side. A red-headed wood-
pecker discovered this and for several days he was in the
greatest glee. Father put a ladder against the side of the
house, gave me a hammer and some nails, and sent me to
the roof to nail this tin down tightly. The next morning
Mr. Eedhead was much chagrined when he brought his
wife to listen to his wonderful musical powers^ only to dis-
cover that his drum would not work. He tried it a few
times and then flew away in disgust and thereafter did
his drumming on the barn.

As a boy it was always a mystery to me how such birds as
flickers managed to get their young out of their hole.
The hole where Picus lived faced directly toward our
front porch, and my field glasses made it appear only a few
feet away. When the young birds were nearly grown they
began to get restless and made a good deal of noise when-
ever the parents came to the nest hole. Soon I began to
notice an occasional head peeping out of the hole, looking
at the great world outside. In a day or two the young
birds did not hesitate to sit in the hole, and finally to creep
outside clinging to the limb with their claws and bracing
themselves with their tails. Evidently the young begin
using their claws to crawl about in the nest hole and so
soon as the tail feathers are well grown are able to crawl
about on the outside. If you will notice a woodpecker

174 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

when he is creeping about on the trunk of a tree^ you will
see that he uses his tail as a prop. It is doubtful if he
could climb about a tree as he does if his tail were pulled
out. When you get a chance^ examine a tail feather from
a woodpecker and I am sure you will be surprized at its
stiffness. It was two or three days after the first young
bird was out of the nest before I saw any of them fly.
For weeks they were most often seen feeding on the
ground. Woodpeckers and especially flickers live largely
on ants and beetles, and these are easiest to find on the
ground.

Picus' young flickers left the nest hole soon after they
were able to fly and, as the summer was dry and food scarce,
soon found their way to the bam and cornfield. They eat
corn and other grain when short of food, and are espe-
cially fond of roasting ears, pecking the end of the ear
and tearing the husks to shreds to get at the grain. At
husking time farmers often fijid ears of corn the tips of
which have been eaten by flickers.

Picus and his wife reared two broods of young in their
nest hole and then were forcibly driven out by an old gray
squirrel. There is no creature more light-hearted or good-
natured than the flicker. Picus never missed his drum-
ming a single morning because he had lost his home,
neither did he quarrel or fight with the squirrel. He
merely moved with his wife to the barn, and went on wifh
his normal life. Practically every day they visited the old
home tree and early the next spring made a new hole on
the other side of the tree. There they were keeping house
contentedly when I moved away and there they may still
be living for all I know.

XXV

K STRANGE NEST

ONE day Orvil Greeson and I started to the river to go
fishing. Boylike we cut across fields and soon found
ourselves in a large cornfield. Then Orvil said to me, "Let
us go over to the bird's nest I found yesterday while plow-
ing.^^ No one ever saw a boy who wasn't interested in a
bird's nest, especially if it be in such an unusual place as
a cornfield, and so of course we went over. Near the middle
of the field in a small clump of bushes he pointed to two
whitish eggs lying on the ground without any indications of
a nest. Now mother had taught me that we ought not to
rob birds' nests, so the first thing I said was, *^Why did
you rob the nest?" His answer was, "I did not." '^ut,"
I said, "there's no nest there. Where did these eggs come
from ?" "The old bird laid them right there," he said, and
we had quite a discussion as to what sort of bird it was.
Orvil said that when he was plowing corn the day before
a queer looking gray bird flew up in front of his team
and fluttered about so much that he stopped to see what
was the matter. Of course the bird got away, but Orvil
saw the eggs. He was not well enough acquainted with the
bird to know it, so when I went home I asked mother
what it was. She said it was a whippoorwill, but that
their eggs are usually slightly speckled. We did not have

175

176 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

many whippoorwills in our neighborhood and it was only
when we went over to the river that we heard them
whistle.

Of course I was interested and would have liked to watch
till the eggs hatched and the birds grew up. But as it
was two or three miles from home and the garden needed
hoeing, and when there was time to play there were so
many things worth investigating near by, I did not get
back to the nest. Orvil and I did not go to the same
school so I never asked him whether he watched the young
birds hatch and grow up or not; but I have always been
glad I saw this whippoorwill's nest, for I have never
found another in just that kind of place.

When the birds were learning to build their nests, evi-
dently the whippoorwill had a lazy fit, for she does not
build. She simply selects a spot on the ground, in the
brush or woods or in some similar out-of-the-way place,
and lays her eggs without even the trouble of wallowing a
hole in the ground. They are sometimes laid even on top
of a dead leaf or on the grass. I presume the reason why
she lays her eggs on the ground is that the ground is so
nearly her own color that there she can feel safe from be-
ing caught while brooding. A whippoorwill does not
fly in the broad daylight. I do not know whether she
sees well in the daytime or not, but I am inclined to think
the light dazzles her eyes much as it dazzles the eyes
of an owl. She depends almost entirely on her color for
protection.

When I was about ten years old, two or three of us
started up to the head of Wymore's Branch to gather dog's-
tooth violets and Dutchman's breeches. After we had
all become tired, we clambered on the top of a rail fence

NIGHTHAWK

NIGHTHAWK'S NEST IN PASTURE

A STRANGE NEST 177

to rest. We had been sitting there talking for some time
when I happened to put my hand down on the rail on
which I was sitting, and just for the fraction of a second
a knot on the rail moved slightly and then settled back as
quietly as before. But this one movement, slight as it
was, was enough to catch my eye, and I could see that the
object was not a knot but a bird. Clearly the bird felt that
she had made a mistake in moving, but still believed she
had not been detected. At any rate she allowed me very
slowly to move my hand closer until with a grab I caught
her. It was a whip-poor-will. Several times since I
have caught whippoorwills in just that way; but at the
time this was wholly new to me, and was my first experience
with animals depending for protection on being the same
color as the surrounding objects.

I had several surprizes when I came to examine my
bird. Her body was about the size of a robin. In color
she was a queer mottling of duU brownish, blackish, and
gray white — just the colors we see on our dead and de-
caying wood. Her feet and legs were small and poorly de-
veloped. I am sure they would have been of little use
in walking, but this is of little importance to the whip-
poorwill, for she does Httle of that. "When I spread her
wings I met another surprize — they were so long and well
developed. I could scarcely believe so small a bird could
have such long wings. In fact, they were so long they
appeared very slender, the really they were about as broad
as the wings of some other bird of the same size.

Many an evening I had seen whippoorwiUs flit about
near the ground over pastures and fields from an hour or
so before sunset till dark, and had been told that they
were catching insects. In fact, father had told me that in-

178 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

sects were their only food and that they fly in the eve-
ning because at that time most of the winged insects are in
the air. I expected to find a bird with a large, wide bill,
and so looked at my whippoorwilFs head very carefully.
The head was broad and rather large, but to my utter sur-
prize the bill seemed little larger than a large grain of
wheat. There were a lot of bristle-like hairs growing at
the base of the bill which made her look still more queer. I
remarked to one of the boys that I had never seen so large
a bird with so small a bill, and then, as I had been used to
feeding birds that way, I pulled her mouth open and there
came my greatest surprize. It opened clear down almost
to the base of her head. It looked as tho she could easily
swallow something much larger than her own head, for
her mouth seemed to open half way down her throat. Then
I understood how she could catch and swallow June bugs
and other large beetles.

The whippoorwiU belongs to the Caprimulgidae fam-
ily, of which a great many varieties exist, but only a few
live in the United States. They are commonly called goat-
suckers — I suppose because the mouth is so big that people
used to think that they drew milk from goats.

We have four principal varieties of goatsuckers in this
country and a few lesser varieties exist also. Three are
generally known in the United States. The one most
common is the nighthawk. Throughout the summer
over a great part of the United States this bird is seen
flying about over fields and meadows nearly every after-
noon and evening, and many people mistakenly call it a
whippoorwill. The nighthawk differs from the whip-
poorwiU in that it is larger and flies well up in the air,
while both the whippoorwill and the chuck-will's-widow

A STRANGE NEST 179

(the third common variety) seldom fly more than fif-
teen or twenty feet high. The nighthawk has long slender
wings and a rapid flight. As he flies over us we can
easily distinguish a white half moon on the under side
of the wings. This bird is accustomed to make a dive
sidewise or downward for an insect, when the rush of the
air through the wing feathers produces a sort of half
groan and half grunt, which is loud enough to be heard
several hundred feet away. At such times he is probably
darting after prey.

Nighthawks are common along the Atlantic coast and
have been observed to follow boats several miles out to sea.
Their main food is June bugs, grasshoppers, and the like.
The nighthawk has no song. In color it is somewhat
similar to the whippoorwill. The mother bird builds
no nest but lays her eggs either on the bare ground or on
on a bare flat rock about one hundred and fifty yards
from my house. She selected a rock that was about her
a bare flat rock. In 1921 a nighthawk raised her family
own color and there she would sit even tho we came
within eight or ten feet of her.

One spring I was visiting a Mr. Louie Schmidt near
Bonaparte, Iowa. He lived on a farm not far from the
Bes Moines Eiver, and as there was considerable brush
and timber on the place the whippoorwills were abun-
dant. One night when the moon was full and the whip-
poorwills were whistling on every hand, we decided to try
to see a bird as he whistled. "We crept across the pasture
to the border of a field full of hazel brush till we stopped
within twenty feet of where the bird was, and there I saw
something for the first and only time — a whippoorwill
lying flat on his side in an open place in the brush whis-

180 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

tling, whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill, as
fast as he could. He seemed to feel that there was only
one thing worth doing in all the world and that
was to see how many times he could whistle whippoorwill
in a minute. We watched him for at least a half hour and
he never once paused for breath. This whistling without
a stop or break is a characteristic of the true whippoor-
will and becomes very tiresome after a time.

Usually whippoorwills sit on the top of a house or
on a cattle shed or some similar place to sing, and they
keep up their song from dark till dawn.

The chuck-wilFs-widow and the poorwill are the only
birds that could be mistaken for a whippoorwill. Their
habits are very similar to the whippoorwilPs, but the birds
differ in song, size, and details of coloration.

XXVI

THE CHIMNEY SWIFT

THE house on the old homestead was a two-story one,
or rather what nowadays would be called a story-
and-a-half, which means that the upstairs rooms were
rather low and near the roof. We boys slept in those
upstairs rooms, and the chimney was only a few feet from
the head of my bed. Usually I thought little about the
chimney, except to appreciate it on cold nights. But in
the summer-time on Sabbath mornings, and on other morn-
ings when we were allowed to sleep an extra hour, this
chimney was a nuisance. With the first break of dawn
the trouble began. Suddenly we would hear a rattling
twitter, then a nunbling noise as tho something were
being poured into an empty barrel, and then such a squeak-
ing as would waken even a tired growing boy. No sooner
would it stop and one would turn over, feeling that now he
was going to get a little quiet, than the whole performance
would be repeated. As the morning progressed, the noise
became so persistent that it was impossible to sleep. And
what do you suppose caused it all?

When the first settlers came to America, among other
interesting things they found a small greenish black bird
with slender wings and with feet so poorly developed that
it very seldom attempts to alight. This bird was in the
habit of building its nest in tall hollow snags or trees.

181

182 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

Like the Colorado potato beetle and the American cabbage-
butterfly, it was wise enough to profit by the codi-
ing of the white man ; for no sooner had the settlers begun
to build chimneys than some bird wiser or more curious
than her neighbors proceeded to look the situation over.
Whirling in ever narrowing circles over this strange
hollow stone tree she doubtless was attracted by its com-
fortable warmth and by the fact that it would be secure
from owls, snakes, and other marauders. Doubtless
after long and earnest discussion with her mate she made
the experiment of sticking her nest to the inside wall of
this chimney.

The chimney swift, for that is the name of this bird, was
a very careful housewife, and suceeded in raising a family of
lusty youngsters, every one of which, we can imagine,
sought out a chimney as its nesting place when old enough
to build a home of its own. Their neighbors and com-
panions were not long in following the example, so that
long since they have forsaken entirely the ways of their
forefathers, and there is hardly a tall chimney in the land
over the regions where Mrs. Swift and her tribe spend
the summer that does not contain from one to a dozen
nests. They do not usually nest in low chimneys on one-
story houses if they can find others. Some staid old-
fashioned swifts stuck to the old paths for a long time,
however, and even yet one occasionally finds a tall hollow
sycamore tree — the favorite nesting place of the swifts for
a thousand generations, possibly because its bark is too
smooth for snakes to climb — in which these birds are nest-
ing.

Mrs. Swift belongs to rather a small family, of which
we have only three other members in this country. Swifts

THE CHIMNEY SWIFT 183

are remarkable birds not only because they spend a large
part of the day on the wing, never alighting on trees and
very seldom on the ground; but also from the wonderful
way in which they build their nests. At nesting time
these birds secrete a sticky gelatin-like saliva which they
smear on the inside of a chimney and allow to dry. Our
chimney swift brings small sticks, which she glues fast to
this mass, and little by little, she adds more glue and more
sticks until the nest is finished.

It is interesting to watch these birds gathering sticks
for a nest. They select a tree whose twigs are dead but
still tough. About such a tree near our house one could see
swifts circling in great numbers, as they came both from
our house and from our nearest neighbor's. Suddenly a
bird would dash at a twig, catch it in its feet, and make a
peculiar side wise jerk which snapped it off short. Away the
bird dashed to the nest, carrying the stick in its feet. It
seems strange for a bird with such poorly developed feet to
carry its sticks in this way, when most birds carry them
in their bills.

The nest of our chimney swift is made about half and
half of this bird-glue or gelatin and sticks. In Southeast-
em Asia and the East Indies one of her cousins uses no
sticks at all, but plasters on the glue little by Httle until
the entire nest is made of it. The natives have learned
to collect these birds' nests and make them into soup, of
which they are very fond. People who have eaten bird's-nest
soup tell me that it really is fine. In fact, bird's-nest soup
is so delicious and the nests are so hard to get that there
are few articles of food there that command a higher
price.

I have never known any one to attempt to make soup

184 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

from the nests of our chimney swift^ and I do not think
it would serve that purpose well. Even if all the sticks
were strained out^ so much smoke and soot settles on the
nest as it is drying that I am sure it would taste more
like soot soup than like bird's-nest soup.

The nests are usually built several feet from the top of
the chimney, and are almost flat on the side that touches
the chimney. In fact, they look very much like half nests
stuck against the bricks.

No one need have trouble in recognizing the chimney
swift, for it is the only bird that enters, much less nests,
in chimneys. A little observation will make it easy to
recognize this bird even in the air, for the only birds that
much resemble it in flight are the martins and swallows,
and all of these that are found in the neighborhood of a
house appear considerably larger than Mr. and Mrs. Swift.

As a child I wondered how Mrs. Swift managed to get
her youngsters out of their nest. Usually some morning
after the birds had been exceptionally noisy and anno5dng
the noise would cease, and going out into the yard we
would find the family sitting on the edge of the chimney
top or on the comb of the roof. It was never more than
two or three hours till they were flying about apparently
as active as their parents, and we were not able to tell
which were the young, except when the old birds fed them.
This they do for two or three weeks after they can fly,
feeding them while in full flight in mid-air. When
feeding, both birds remain practically still in the air, hov-
ering much as a humming bird does in front of a flower.

Almost every summer some over-ambitious bird would
jump out of the nest before he was able to get to the top
of the chimney and then we would hear his cries of dis-

THE CHIMNEY SWIFT 185

tress far down at the bottom of the chimney. Many times
I have opened the hole at the foot of the chimney and
taken these young birds out, but I was never able to raise
one. They refused to eat grasshoppers and crickets, and
I was not able to catch gnats and flies for them as their
mother had done. In fact, the mother feeds her young
largely on ants for the first few days, and then gives them
partly digested insects from her crop till they are nearly
grown. Perhaps they died under my care because they
had been hurt in falling or it might have been because
they had been used to the warmth of the chimney. If
the young bird is not hurt by the fall it may climb back
into the nest. These birds have very strong sharp claws
and a stiff tail. The old birds roost at night with their
claws stuck into the side of a brick, and their tails act
as props to hold them in place. Audubon tells us that
the fledgling, if his tail has grown out, can hold in this
way and climb up the side of the chimney to his nest.

One afternoon at school one of the boys whispered the
startling news to me that the chimney swifts were on the
ground out by the old cinder pile and that they were so
gentle one could get within fifteen or twenty feet of them
before they would fly. He had been out of doors and
was all excited over his discovery. I offered some excuse
for leaving the room and sure enough there were half a
dozen swifts hopping about on the cinders, chirping. It
certainly was amusing to see them attempt to walk. In
fact, one could hardly give the name of walking to their
peculiar half-hitching gait. I had always supposed the
swift to be black, but now I discovered he was a brownish
black with a green gloss over his head and back. The
lower parts are grayish brown, sometimes slightly tinged

186 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

with green ; the throat is dull white, and there is a lighter
gray line over each eye. His very long wings lie back
so far as to give him the air of a real aristocrat.

In the autumn, when the nights begin to get cool, the
swifts begin to show anxiety. They can be seen perching
on the roof or even sitting about on the ground. Finally
some morning we notice that they are gone. They do
not leave one at a time, but all that are nesting in any
particular farmstead go together. One afternoon in the
fall at Madison, Tennessee, I saw a large number of chim-
ney swifts flying about over the school premises. They
acted as tho perfectly at home, darting back and forth
catching insects. This was a great surprize to me, for
I have known only a few pairs to nest on this place. About
sundown I noticed that they were circling about a large
old chimney stack. Sometimes they would leave the region
of this chimney for several minutes, and then would come
back and circle about it again. Just as the sun was sink-
ing below the horizon one more daring than the rest
darted down the chimney, and in less time than it takes to
write it there was not a bird in sight. All of them passed
the night in this chimney, flew about over the place for
two or three hours in the morning, catching their break-
fasts, and then departed. It is not uncommon for mi-
grating chimney swifts to stop in this way and rest. In
the fall of 1921 hundreds of them roosted every night for
ten days or more in the tall chimneys of our heating plant,
and some birds remained all day.

In the spring they do not appear to come back one at a
time, tho it is often reported that they do so. All the
swifts in our neighborhood usually came back together. I
remember one day we boys were out on the school grounds

THE CHIMNEY SWIFT 187

playing ball when suddenly the chimney swifts began to
fly around the house. In and out of the chimney they
chased each other, evidently in the greatest glee to find
themselves at home again. Pretty soon we discovered
more passing overhead, and when I got home that evening
the first sight that greeted my eyes was the chimney swifts
darting in and out of our chimney. The next morning
every boy in the school reported the same thing at his
home, and all agreed that they must have arrived at every
house in the district within a few minutes. Whatever
you may do with other birds, allow no one to kill the chim-
ney swift, for he feeds entirely on insects such as mos-
quitoes, gnats, flies, and ants, and he catches most of them
near the house, just the place where they do the greatest
harm.

XXVII

RUBYTHROAT

IN" the northwest corner of our yard stood a clump of
Blue Damson plum trees. They had not always been
Blue Damson plums. Father had set out only one tree and
it was supposed to be a large blue plum. This tree never
ripened any fruit because of the plum curculio. You can
read the story of this in '^Knowing Insects Through Sto-
ries/' Finally this tree died or was broken down. In its
stead a number of sprouts came up^, grew vigorously, and
within two or three years were bearing. We could not know
whether they were like the parent tree or not until they
were large enough to bear, and as plum trees were expensive
in those days all were left to see what they would be. After
these bore and proved to be damsons, we cut out the
weaker trees and allowed eight or ten of the best to re-
main.

On one side of these Damson plums stood a clump of
hardy hibiscus that died to the ground each winter but
came up every spring and made plants six feet or more
tall, and for weeks bore a mass of giant white flowers with
crimson centers. Growing beside this hibiscus were sev-
eral clumps of columbine, and ten or fifteen feet away was
a coral honeysuckle, while roses grew in profusion all
over the yard. It is small wonder that mother and father

188

RUBYTHROAT 189

Eubythroat should select this particular corner of the
yard for their home. They lived there for several years
and may be living there yet for all I know. They cer-
tainly were when I left the old home.

Now Mr. and Mrs. Eubjrthroat were humming birds.
Humming birds belong to the Trochilidae family and are
easy to recognize, first, because some of them are the small-
est of birds; second, because they are mostly brilliantly
colored; and, last but not least, because they vibrate their
wings so rapidly that they make a humming sound, a
thing that no other bird does. All humming birds are
American, but most of them live in tropical America. In
the West Indies there are many kinds, but one needs to go
to the Amazon basin and to the Andes Mountains to find
them in all their glory. Some of these are scarcely larger
than bumblebees, while the largest are almost as large as
a sparrow. Some of them have very beautiful crests and
others long brilliantly colored tails. In spite of these
differences they are much alike, and no one who has ever
seen one kind would fail to recognize any other as a hum-
ming bird, tho he might not know what particular kind
it was. East of the Rocky Mountains and north of Texas
we never see any humming bird but the rubythroat. He
is a beautiful peacock green above with a sheen of gold
and bronze when the sunlight flashes on him. His throat
is ruby red, hence his name.

Notwithstanding that he is so small, the humming bird
is a bold, active bird, and at least one kind nests during
the short summer season in the southern part of Alaska.
In California, New Mexico, and Arizona there are about
fourteen different kinds to be found; but as Mr. Ruby-
throat is found over more territory than any of the others

190 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

we teU. his story. He is found practically all over the
Eastern United States and Southeastern Canada, so you
will have no trouble in locating him.

The first I remember seeing Mr. and Mrs. Rubythroat
was on a day early in May when I was about five years
old. I was playing in the front yard when I heard a
peculiar humming, and looking up saw a bird literally
standing in the air not three feet away and staring into
my face. His wings moved so fast I could hardly see them,
yet he stood perfectly still. Finally his curiosity being
satisfied, he gave a little squeek, whirled over the house,
circled around a time or two and came back to the Yellow
Harrison rose bush that was just opening its first blooms.
I remember watching with great interest as he went from
one rose to another, pushing his sharp bill in among the
stamens and pistils and licking up insects, pollen, and
possibly nectar. Finally he flew to a clump of bluebells
that were still in bloom and proceeded to suck nectar from
them.

I determined to watch these birds and find their nest.
It seemed to me that birds so small as they would build
a veritable fairy nest, and I was anxious to see how they
would go about it and also to see their eggs. I saw these
birds every day and almost every hour in the day for
weeks and felt sure that their nesting place was either in
one of the plum trees or in a Norway spruce hard by ; but
for all my watching I could not find it. These birds
nested in our yard every year from that time until I was
sixteen years old and left home to enter college. I do not
believe there was a single summer in all that time that I
did not spend hours hunting for their nest. I felt per-
fectly sure that they built in that part of the yard; and

RUBYTHROAT 191

after the Blue Damson trees got large enough to bear I
even thought I knew that the nest was in one of these
trees, but I never discovered it.

I have spent many a Sabbath afternoon sitting under
these trees with a book or paper, determined to watch un-
til I saw those birds go to their nest. Every time I heard
a whir I looked up, but the birds were more shrewd
than I.

The young birds appeared regularly at the proper time,
and I knew their family life well, but they were so expert
at hiding their nest that they baffled all my family. I
saw humming birds' nests at some of the neighbors', how-
ever. The first one I remember seeing was in Dan Davis'
yard in a giant white ehn tree too large to cHmb. The
this nest was scarcely more than an inch and a half in
diameter it was built on the top of a limb as thick through
as a man's body. It was made of horsehair, thistle down,
and feathers, stuck into a crack in the rough bark, and
covered with lichens glued on with the bird's saliva. This
tree stood on a sidehill where we could see the nest and
even get close enough to know what was going on in it,
but we could not get at it. After the young birds had
flown, some of the boys put a ladder against this tree and
took the nest down, and we tore it up to see how it was
made.

My birds of the plum trees were great fighters. I sup-
pose there is not a bird that lives that is more aggressive
than the humming bird. He is always on the lookout for
any bird that might possibly do his mate or his nest harm.
If he does not find such a one, he will fight anyway if he
can meet an opponent. He is the one bird with which I
am acquainted that does not hesitate to attack the kingbird

192 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

or the martin. In fact he seems to have a special gmdge
against those two birds^ and my ruby throats would not
allow the kingbirds to come into that part of the yard at
all. If perchance Jerry happened to venture into his do-
main, before he knew it Mr. Rubythroat was upon him.
Quicker than a flash he would strike with his sharp bill
again and again. His tactics were even more aggressive
than those of the kingbird himself; and since he was so
small and so very active, Jerry had a bitter taste of the
medicine he so delighted to give Jim Crow and the old
brown tailed chicken hawk. When I was among the
plum trees my birds were very uneasy indeed, flashing
about my head and squeaking but never daring to strike.
Sometimes they would alight within two or three feet of me
and squeak and fuss, all of which led me to think that
the nest was close.

Since I have been grown I have had the privilege of
watching humming birds build their nests. The ordinary
nest of this bird is built of down and soft vegetable sub-
stances and is covered on the outside mth lichens. I have
known of but one nest that contained hairs. These
lichens are carefully picked from the limbs of trees and
match their surroundings so well that the nest is hard to
find. I am quite sure now that my humming birds nested
for several years on a half dead limb on one of the plum
trees that was covered for several feet with a growth of
lichens. I never dared climb this limb for fear it would
break, and evidently my eye could not distinguish between
the lichens which covered the nest and those growing on
the limb. Another thing that makes a humming bird's
nest so difficult to find is the fact that the bird rises high
in the air when she starts to her nest and when she

RUBYTHROAT 19S

Teaches the spotj seems to drop upon the nest from nowhere
like a bolt out of the sky.

The humming bird lays only two eggs. They are white
and scarcely larger than a small navy bean. The bird sits
usually fourteen to fifteen days. When the young are
hatched, they are as helpless looking little creatures as
one could imagine. They are scarcely as large as a tumble-
bug and as naked as a young mouse. They are so weak and
frail that they can scarcely raise their heads for food.
The mother is exceedingly careful of them, hovering them
solicitously for two or three days. She feeds them by
sticking her bill down their throats. When the young are
half grown she begins feeding them freshly caught insects.
Within sixteen days they are ready to leave the nest and
fly. Think of it, a perfectly naked bird growing to
maturity, putting on the brilliant plumage of a humming
bird, and becoming ready to leave the nest and meet the
cares and dangers of the big broad world all within sixteen
days ! Within three or four days the mother lays two more
eggs. During this time the young humming birds have
been taught to find the sweetest flowers and to catch the
choicest insects, and then they are left to shift for them-
selves. They quickly leave the vicinity of the nest, and
■usually all of the yoimg humming birds in the neighbor-
hood collect together, either for the fun of racing with
each other or because they feel more secure because of
their numbers. I have seen in our yard as many as eight
or ten young humming birds in one flock dashing after
one another over the lawn and into the rose bushes and
columbines till tired out, and then they would finally set-
tle to rest on the branches of a tree.

The young, and for that matter the mother bird, do not

194 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

have the ruby throat. The young males have the throat
whitish finely streaked with dusky, taking on the brighter
color much later. The humming bird feeds largely on
small insects that gather in tubular flowers. He has a
partly tubular tongue which enables him to extract these
insects readily and also any nectar which may be in a tube
of the flower.

But these birds do not depend on flowers alone for their
food. I have seen them "stand'' for two or three minutes
at a time in front of a branch on a box elder tree and
lick the aphids off of the leaves with their long sticky
tongues. I am sure most of you have seen gnats, mosquitoes,
or other small insects flying in swarms of a summer after-
noon The humming bird delights to find such a swarm.
He darts back and forth through it catching insects imtil,
tired out, he has to perch and rest, only to return to the
vchase in a few moments if the insects are still in sight.

Mother Humming Bird usually raises two broods in a
summer. Mr. Humming Bird seldom alights, but when
he does the first thing he begins to do is to primp. He will
take a few steps sidewise, crane his neck, ruffle his feathers,
lift first one wing and then the other and finally begin to
run each quill feather in his wings separately through his
bill. It takes quite a while to attend to this, but he goes
through the performance perhaps a dozen or fifteen times
a day.

If two strange humming birds happen to meet, there is
almost sure to be a hard battle. The first humming birds
I ever caught were two which were fighting so fiercely that
they fell to the ground and failed to notice me until I had
my hat over them. It is said that animals which have

RUBYTHROAT 195

never developed patience by bringing np a slow growing
family are always high tempered. Evidently this is true of
the humming bird. The young grow up very quickly, and
surely none are more high tempered and more ready to
fight.

A friend of mine one day found a humming bird that
had in some way injured its wing and could not fly. He
made a splint out of a piece of match straw, carefully
bound up the wing and fed the bird on sugar sirup with
an occasional small gnat or beetle. In a very few days
the bird was able to fly, but by this time it had become
so tame that it did not care to leave the house. It would
sit on the back of a chair or fly about the room for hours
at a time. Its wing was not very strong, so it was not
able to make long flights or to remain in the air long at
a time. He used to fill an old fashioned fountain-pen
filler with thin sugar sirup and hold it up for Mr. Euby-
throat, who would come and thrust his bill into the end of
the glass tube and suck up the sirup. My friend being
somewhat of a musician, and having a scientific turn of
mind decided one day that he would like to know just how
many times Mr. Humming Bird moved his wings in a
second when he was hovering before the fountain pen
filler sipping sirup. Accordingly he took his violin and
picked out the tone that exactly harmonized with the
hum of Eubythroat's wings. The tone was "A'' below mid-
dle "C^ and as it takes two hundred-fourteen vibrations
per second to produce this tone this tiny little bird
actually fluttered his wings two hundred and fourteen times
a second. It seems almost impossible that so small a bird
can generate energy enough to do this enormous amount

196 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

of "work for hours every day; but any one who has seen a
.cross old bumblebee attack a humming bird that has
crowded him out of a flower knows that he simply makes
sport of the bee's anger, tantalizing him in much the same
way that a jack rabbit on the western plains will tantalize
a farm dog, keeping just far enough ahead to cause it to
exert itself to the limit and, when he has had sport enough,
darting away like a flash.

i Sugar is suitable for furnishing a large amount of heat
and energy to such things as bees and humming birds that
jhave power to digest it; but even they can not live on this
alone. My friend's bird in about three or four weeks be-
gan to grow droopy and showed clearly that he was not
well in spite of the fact he was fed a few insects. Finally
he was taken out of doors and allowed to fly to the honey-
'euckle vine and the jimson weed flowers where he caught
an abundance of insects and doubtless ate pollen, and soon
he became all right again.

j When the autumn days came the great spirit that guides
'the feathered folk whispered in his ear one evening that it
^was time to fly away to the sunny land of flowers beyond
jthe seas. He was well then, and had been active all day;
ibut he was seen for the last time only an hour before
jflundown. The next morning he was nowhere to be found.
|I am sure humming birds migrate at night, for they are
always gone some morning after being active all day.
jEubythroat never came back again unless he was the bird
who nested the next year on the branch of the Norway
spruce in my friend's yard. We could not be quite sure
^whether this was true or not, for this bird, while tamer
Ithan any other wild humming bird I have ever seen, was
yet too wild to allow any one to handle him, while it had

RUBYTHROAT 197

been Rubythroat's deligbt to perch on one's fingers to
preen his feathers. Humming birds are very easy to
tame. Ahnost as soon as they have been fed they lose
all fear, recognizing that only a friend would furnish them
such wonderful nectar aa sugar sirup. This is best made
by diluting sugar with ten or twelve times its bulk of water.
All that is necessary is to put it in a cup and allow the bird
to get a taste of it by carefully placing his bill in the sirup.
He drinks greedily, if hungry, often plunging his bill and
head in the sirup up to his eyes.

The Rufous humming bird is about as large as the
Rubythroat. It is he that is found in Southern Alaska.
I have never been in this region, but I have seen these
birds in the vicinity of Bellingham, Washington, and
Portland, Oregon. We have some fourteen varieties of
humming birds in California and the Southwest. As be-
fore stated the members of the family are easily recognized
by their small size and by the humming of their wings,
even tho one should not catch them and examine the
partly tubular tongue and the long pointed bill. Tho
the humming bird appears to be very slender, if one should
pick off all his feathers he would be surprized to find what
a plump muscular little fellow he is. The breast is espe-
cially plump and well developed.

Key to the Families of Macrochires

TsoCHlLiD^ — Humming birds.

With the bill long and slender, the gape narrow, and wing with only 6
secondaries.

M1CROPODID.5: — Swifts.

Birds of firm plumage, with bill short and broad, gape wide, secon-
daries more than 6, and with the claw of middle toe without a comb'
like edge.

CAPRiMULGiDiE — Goatsuckcrs.

Birds of 3oft plumage, with middle toe decidedly longer than the

198 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

anterior toes, the claw of the middle toe with a comb-like edge;
bill with conspicuous bristles; tail rounded, and the folded wing not
reaching to the end of the tail.
Chordeilid^ — Nighthawks.

Like the Caprimulgid^, but with the bill lacking conspicuous bristles,
the tail forked, and the folded wings reaching to or keyond the end
of the Uil.

Tail and Foot of Swift

XXVIII

JERRY THE KINGBIRD

THERE was a Red June apple tree just back of the
house that was a favorite with us children. It was
different from any other Red June tree I have ever seen.
It was larger and thriftier, and grew in as perfect a cone
shape as any hard maple. Even when the other trees did
not bear, we could find apples on this one, but they ripened
four or five days later than on the other trees. They also
lasted two or three weeks after the others were gone. In
flavor they were identical with that king of early apples,
the Red June, but in size were really giants. It was
not imcommon to get apples off this tree that were as
large as the Ben Davis or the Delicious which we often
buy now-a-days on the fruit stand at a high price. In my
boyhood days we did not think of price. We helped our-
selves to all we could eat and as often as we wished, gave
to the neighbors who happened not to have plenty of their
own, and even then had abundance to can, to make cider,
jelly, or apple butter, and to feed the pigs. I can almost
taste those wonderful mellow apples yet! We used to get
a dozen or so, peel off the skin, mash them in a dish, mix
them with real cream, and have them for breakfast — all
one could eat and no one to think we were extravagant.
But I must get back to my story. Jerry the kingbird

199

200 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

evidently had reasons of his own for preferring this Red
June. I was never sure what his reasons were, but have
always been suspicious that the fact that this tree stood on
the edge of the apiary, where there were fifty or a hundred
swarms of bees, had something to do with it.

If I remember correctly it was about the first of May,
1883, that I first met Jerry. I was in the back yard watch-
ing the red ants clear a path from their home to a new
pasture when I noticed Jerry making love to a shy young
bird about his own size and color. It was plain that he
was making love to her, for every time she moved he
would fly around and around her, fluttering his wings in
the most excited manner possible, twittering and chatter-
ing all the time. She seemed to pay little heed to him,
as is the way of maidens in general, and when he became
too persistent in his attentions she flew to another tree.
No matter, she hardly had time to alight before there was
Jerry close beside her. Sometimes she would fly up into
the air in a spiral a hundred or two feet high. Neverthe-
less there was her insistent lover flying around her and pro-
testing in the loudest tones that he would be the most
wonderful husband on earth if only she would consent. I
watched them till mother called me to gather the eggs and
get in the evening supply of wood. When that work was
done, supper had to be eaten and the cows milked, and
by that time all honest birds were sleeping.

The next morning, however, there was Jerry making love
as insistently as the night before. It was plain to a mere
outsider that he had already won his suit, but that his
lady fair was not prepared to admit the fact ; he, however,
was pressing his suit more ardently than ever. For all
their love making, both had plenty of time to catch a fly

JERRY THE KINGBIRD 201

if it happened that way. While I watched, a beautiful
yellow butterfly came flitting by. Quick as a wink Jerry
caught him. Evidently that butterfly was quite a prize,
for while in the past each had eaten whatever they caught,
Jerry promptly presented his lady love with this butterfly,
which she took as a matter of course and swallowed greed-
ily. I had to go about my business and do not know
-whether the butterfly had anything to do with it, but by
afternoon the matter was evidently settled, for I found
these birds apparently talking over the best place to set
up housekeeping.

I want to say just a word about the kingbird family.
Mr. and Mrs. Kingbird are flycatchers, and belong to a
large family of flycatchers of which we have a number in
the United States. I am telling you the story of the king-
bird because he is found in practically every State in the
Union and none of the other flycatchers are so widely dis-
tributed in the summer, when most people study birds.
They are known as flycatchers because many species live
almost wholly on flying insects. They are moderately
small birds with an alert, nervous appearance. As most
species seldom alight on the ground and never scratch,
their feet and legs are generally short, altho they have
four good strong toes, the hind toe not being much if
any longer than the others. Their claws are sharp, mod-
erately strong, and arched, so that they can cling tightly
to a limb. In the smaller species the plumage is soft and
blending. In many species the bill is more or less tri-
angular and rather wide at the base to make it convenient
for catching insects. The tail is usually of moderate
length. Many varieties have a topknot and a small red or
yellow spot on the top of the head. The male king bird

202 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

is usually a great fighter, especially when his mate is sit-
ting. He perches on a branch over the nest and attacks
every bird that comes in sight, and the larger the bird
the more certain he is to attack it.

The kingbird is so called because he is such a little
terror for fighting other birds. The farmers often call them
the bee martin, because in size and appearance when fiying
he somewhat resembles a martin, and when other food is
short he sometimes catches bees. I have often seen Jerry
do that, but from my observation I am led to believe
that he usually catches drones. I do not mean that if there
were no drones and he was hungry he would refuse a per-
fectly good worker bee, but drones are his preference.

In color the bee martin is a dark bluish gray above,
while the head is grayish black crowned with a vermilion
spot bordered with yellow. The wings and tail are tipped
with white. The breast is gray or sometimes nearly white.
The female has an orange crown patch on her head a lit-
tle smaller than that of the male.

Jerry and his wife decided to build their nest in the very
top of my Red June tree. First they selected a number
of small dry twigs and placed them as a foundation in the
forks of some small branches. Next they went to the
sheep pen and gathered wool in abundance and made a
thick felt lining for their nest. This evidently was in-
tended to keep it warm and to protect the eggs from any-
thing that might strike the side of the nest. Next they
began to take the strings and horsehair that had been put
up for the Baltimore orioles' special use and went to a great
pile of flax straw and gathered quantities of tow. Of these
strings, tow, and horsehair he built a very neat nest inside
of the wool lining. I say 'Tie," for Jerry seemed to be

JERRY THE KINGBIRD 203

master of ceremonies in the nest building. His wife
helped all she could but Jerry bossed the job.

As soon as the nest was done, the mother bird quietly
slipped on while Jerry perched on the very topmost twig
of the tree to watch for intruders. Old Jim Crow, who
was nesting down by the creek, having decided that grass-
hoppers should be plentiful in the meadow, started across
the orchard to this hunting ground. Before he was nearer
than two or three hundred yards, Jerry gave utterance to
his sharp tremulous cry, and made straight for Jim. Evi-
dently the crow knew what was coming, for with the first
sound of Jerry^s voice he began to fly as fast as possible,
and dropped down close to the tree tops, hoping to escape
notice. Like a fury Jerry was upon him, pecking from
above, below, both sides, circling round and round, chat-
tering and scolding, and finally as a climax to his rage
alighted on the crow's back between the wings and began
pecking and tearing out the feathers. Half a dozen
came fluttering to the earth as proof of the flerceness of
the onslaught.

The crow screamed in rage, dashed up and down, back
and forth, and in vain attempted to escape ; but it was not
until he was a full quarter of a mile away that Jerry left
him and returned to exult and explain to his wife the great
feat he had performed. He had hardly alighted on his
lookout when he spied the family cat quietly sitting in the
back yard. Here was another possible enemy, and with
his shrill challenge he rushed for her. Poor kitty sat up
mystified, hardly knowing what to do, when whack he took
her in the back of the head. She struck at him with her
paw, but before she could think he was out of reach, cir-
cling round, striking her again and again. Before many

204 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

moments kitty owned defeat and dashed into the rasp-
berries for protection.

So it went all day long. A hawk could not appear in
sight, a crow come nearer than two hundred yards, or even
a blue jay come closer than two or three hundred feet with-
out being attacked at sight. For the six or seven years
Jerry nested in this tree we never had a chicken caught by
a hawk or a crow, and the cats entirely forsook the back
yard in the daytime.

One year another kingbird determined to nest in our
orchard. He located fully a hundred yards from Jerry's
home, but nevertheless Jerry claimed this territory as
his own. The two birds were fighting almost constantly
for a week. Finally Jerry triumphed, and his defeated
rival went to the monstrous Pippin tree in the old or-
chard, a quarter of a mile away. Probably he was glad
afterward that he moved for he found himself within a
hundred yards of the migrant shrike's nest and the shrike
was following his custom of sticking insects on thorns. The
kingbird was not long in finding this out, and it was a
favorite pastime of his to collect every insect he found
sticking on the thorns.

Tho Jerry would never tolerate another kingbird's nest-
ing in what he considered his own private ground, no bird
was more careful in the protection of his mate and of
his young. He left his lookout during the period in
which his mate was sitting only when he felt it necessary
to satisfy his own hunger or to catch food for her, but he
always managed to see that she was well fed tho at this
time they dined pretty freely on bees. In fact, that was the
only time we had reason to complain of his onslaught upon
the bee yard, and with nearly a hundred colonies of bees.

JERRY THE KINGBIRD 205

each one of which was hatching from 3,000 to 5,000 young
bees every day, the few it took to keep him and his wife
well fed amounted to little, especially as most of them
were drones.

Two broods were hatched this first season. The young
were given a two weeks' course of education as soon as
they were able to fly. They would sit close to the parent
birds, first in one tree and then in another, watching for
some insect to pass by. For perhaps a week the old birds
caught the insects and fed them to the young. One day
the latter part of the week, one of the bravest of the
young birds made a dart for a butterfly on his own ac-
count. When he had succeeded in catching it he carried
it back to the tree on which the family rested with as much
show of pride as ever a boy felt when he brought home
the first dollar he earned. Soon one of his brothers, not
to be outdone, made a dart for an insect and within a day
or two all of the fledglings were hunting on their own
account. Then they moved down into the plum orchard
where there were grasshoppers as well as other insects in
abundance. Now, the mother began to lay a second clutch
of eggs, and Jerry resumed his place as watchman. By
the middle of August Jerry and his mate forsook the Red
June tree and were to be seen flying across the meadow
back and forth, darting up and down, often swooping to a
head of clover or a goldenrod and rising again without
alighting. There was a haystack on one side of the
meadow, and a cornfield on the other. Jerry would often
perch himself either on a tassel of corn or on a stake in the
haystack, and watch for hours, making a dart after a
grasshopper here or a fly there, each time returning to the
same spot. In fact, this habit of sitting in a definite

206 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

place watching for food and always returning to the same
spot when it is caught is one of the characteristics of the
flycatcher family.

Before the first of September the old birds, with both lots
of young, gathered in a plum tree one morning, and as soon
as they had satisfied their appetites disappeared for the
year. The kingbird flies rapidly when he is about his
summer's business; but when he starts southward his
flight is decidedly different. He flaps his wings three or
four times and then sails twenty or thirty feet before
flapping again. In this way he rests fully as much as
he works and so is able to continue his flight for hours.
He flies mostly at night and often stops for a few days
at any place that happens to suit his fancy.

Early the next May Jerry returned with his mate. For
a day or two after returning they seemed tired, but when
they had had a day or two of rest the old fire and vigor
returned.

We had a watering trough for horses near the June ap-
ple tree, and on hot days it was interesting to watch Jerry
take his bath. This was the trough in which the Balti-
more orioles bathed. Jerry did not bathe like other birds,
but perching on a maple limb that hung over the trough he
would dive down into the water, going completely under,
always alighting and shaking himself dry before taking
another dip. Often he would keep this up for fifteen or
twenty minutes if the day was a hot one, making thirty or
forty plunges before he was satisfied.

None of the flycatchers have crops. Their food is swal-
lowed directly into the stomach. Since they feed largely
on insects and as the shells of these insects are not di-
gestible, the stomach works them up into little balls

JERRY THE KINGBIRD 207

which are disgorged from time to time ; so it was common
to find little pellets of undigested feet, legs, wings, etc.,
about the size of a common quinine capsule under our
Eed June apple tree.

One spring after Jerry had been nesting in that tree
for years I put up a martin box on the other side of the
yard. I had wanted martins for two or three years, but
had never made them a box. Within four or five days
a pair of martins took possession, and then trouble began
in earnest. Jerry resented the intrusion and was not wise
enough to keep his resentment to himself. Doubtless the
martins would not have raised any question of owner-
ship; but when war was declared, they entered it with
full vigor. The campaign lasted for five or six days,
with fighting almost constant. The martin is the one
bird that is more active than the kingbird, and poor Jerry
came out second best in every encounter. The old spotted
cat had always resented Jerry^s tyranny, and now she sat in
the front yard watching the combat. After an unusually
hard fought battle Jerry fell to the ground, possibly in-
jured — I never knew. In a flash the old cat was upon him,
and from the way she carried herself it was evident that
she felt more than the usual exultation on catching a
bird, for she had not only caught her breakfast but had
gotten rid of an old time enemy. Before night Jerry's mate
left the neighborhood. I had grown very fond of Jerry,
and promptly removed the martin house, hoping the mother
bird would find another mate and return, but she never
came back.

XXIX

SAM BLACK

IN THE grove that had been set aside for a family play-
ground was a crabapple thicket around the edge of
which grew a tangle of blackberries and ferns. In front
of this crabapple thicket was a bed of giant ferns in which
tradition said there was a snakes' den. Just beyond the
ferns a little brook danced and sparkled. On the oppo-
site bank of this brook was a wonderful wild grapevine
that had so completely covered two young elm trees that it
formed a rain proof roof. On one side this vine hung in a
loop making a perfect swing. A few feet away, another
vine had started to twine about an old tree trunk and then
thinking better of it had bent down again and climbed up
an elm tree a few feet away, and this bend made one of
the finest steeds a boy ever rode. On the other side of
this grapevine house stood a young tree that could be bent
over to make the best see-saw in the world, and it promptly
straightened up again as soon as it had served its pur-
pose, and never once told what had been done.

This grapevine was a regular bearer of delicious grapes^
and as it formed a rain-proof house it is no wonder that
sister and I chose it as our favorite playground. But we
never dared venture into the fernery, for was not this the
special domain of the bull snakes that had their den there ?
True, we never saw any of these snakes; but surely they

208

SAM BLACK 209

must be there, for Dan Scott had told us so and Dan
Scott was authority on all the ghosts, goblins and stinging
things in the country.

Old Jim Crow, whose sharp eye saw all that went on in
the woods, evidently had observed that tho we children
ran at large in this grove at all hours of the day we
avoided the crabapple thicket. When the first warm sun
began to melt the snow he began to call from every tree top
for a mate to come and live with him in our crabapple
thicket. Before the first young fox squirrels were nibbling
the seeds in the white elms, he had won a dusky bride and
they had taken possession of the crabapple thicket.

From our grapevine playhouse sister and I watched
them with considerable interest. Back and forth they
went, each trip bringing a stick for their nest. The crow
carries large sticks, so it was not uncommon for them to
bring sticks twelve or fifteen inches long and as thick as
my finger. We could see the nest growing from day to
day. but we never dared to venture close enough to see
the details of the nest building. For three days this work
went forward rapidly. The fourth day we observed that
they were carying not sticks any more but pieces of string
or some other lining material. When the nest was fin-
ished it was fifteen or eighteen inches in diameter and was
securely wedged in a crotch of crabapple branches where
the top was thickest. It was not more than ten feet from
the ground but the limbs were so thick beneath, above, and
on all sides that had we not known where it was it is doubt-
ful if we could have found it. By this time the warm
breezes had started the leaves, the tree had burst into a
blaze of pink blossoms, and these blossoms and half formed
leaves hid the nest.

210 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

When the nest was completed, Jim chose the top of the
tall quaking aspen tree hard by for his watch-tower. There
he spent hours scanning the surrounding country and not
a twig could snap or an unusual move be made that his
quick ear or eye did not catch it. He paid no attention
to us children, but let any stranger come near and he im-
mediately uttered a sharp "Caw, caw,^^ and his dusky mate
would quietly slip o& the nest, and keeping herself well
hidden among the branches, noiselessly fly out through the
willows near by and would not appear silhouetted against
the sky until she was at least one hundred yards from the
precious nest. When Jim was sure his mate was well out
of harm's way he also took flight but in the opposite direc-
tion.

In due time there were young birds in this nest. We
knew this f©r we could see the parents carrying food and
soon could hear cries every time the parent birds came
near. The mother now spent most of her time flying over
the meadows and fields in search of grasshoppers and other
food, Jim, being more cunning, divided his time between
waiting for a chance to slip into the hen house and steal
an egg and watching for a little duck or chicken to wander
far enough from the yard for him to catch it without at-
tracting the attention of Jerry the kingbird. Mother
complained of the loss of her eggs and poultry, and father
threatened from time to time to shoot Jim, but I was in-
sistent that I wanted a pet crow, and this plea, added to
the law that nothing should be killed within this grove,
caused my indulgent parents to put up with the pilfering
until the young birds were old enough to be taken away.

Then it was time to get our pets. Brother John pro-
prosed that we slip down to the nest just at dark, shoot

SAM BLACK 211

the old crows and get the young ones. We laid plans to do
this but at the last moment mother persuaded us it would
be a mean trick to kill the old birds and take their young,
so we had to be content with getting the young and de-
stroying the nest. Perhaps it is hardly Just to say we, for
I stayed outside of the thicket while Brother John, who
had reached the great age of twelve and of course was not
afraid of anything, got the birds. There were five of them.
We took them all to the house and killed one and hung it
on a pole some distance from the chicken yard as an ef-
fective preventative of Jim's ravages in that vicinity.

Two of the young birds were given to a neighbor boy,
and I started in on the rather doubtful job of feeding and
caring for the remaining two. I fed them on bread soaked
in milk, pieces of meat, cooked beans, Dutch cheese, mice,
and insects of all kinds ; in fact, whatever seemed to be con-
venient.

It is no trouble to teach a young crow to eat. Indeed,
eating seems to be his one interest in life. After the first
day I could not come in sight without both crows setting
up an insistent plea to be fed. To nourish a young crow
so that he will gain strength as fast as under his mother's
care is quite diflScult. Milk was hard to get, and it was
easier to stuff the crows with white bread soaked in water
than to provide them plenty of insects and milk or curd.
While for two or three days these birds thrived amazingly
they soon began to droop and have a rough bedraggled
looking coat. I stuffed them full of white bread and water
every little while, but they were never satisfied. They
would utter the most mournful little cry every little while
and acted as if they were starving — which in fact they
were, starving while being fed to the limit. Finally the

212 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

lining of their moutlis became a pale sickly white and one
died.

Clearly something must be done. I made excursions to
the meadow and fed the remaining bird three or four
meals of grasshoppers which relieved the situation very
much. The young turkeys by this time had grown large
enough to require an abundance of Dutch cheese, which
mother began to keep on hand at all times. It was just as
handy to feed this to the crow as bread, and it became the
staple article of diet. Within two days the crow's mouth
came back to a brilliant red, his coat soon took on gloss,
and before the week was out he was able to fly. He es-
caped death by the fortunate circumstance of mother's
turkeys requiring an abundance of freshly made Dutch
cheese. And just here I will say that if you should wish
to raise young birds as pets, there is no food that I have
found so generally satisfactory as plenty of Dutch cheese,
freshly made from milk that has not been skimmed closely.
Of course it is not well to give this as the only food.

When Sam learned to fly he soon became a nuisance — ^he
was so curious. He was always following some of the
family about, paying attention to everything that was
going on. He appeared as innocent as a baby, but let
some one lay down anything small enough for him to
carry and then step away for a moment and it was sure to
be gone when he returned. Sam made a specialty of carry-
ing off spools of thread, scissors, pocket knives, nails, bolts,
screws, etc., and then watching to see what would be done
when the loss was discovered. He was sure to be busy
jabbering to himself in a low tone when we were busiest
searching for the lost article. This went on for some time
before we discovered where the things were going. We

SAM BLACK 213

ought to have known, for Sam came on the stage of action
after the death of Joe the blue jay, and those of you who
have read his history in Elo the Eagle and Other Stories
will remember his treasure trove and his proneness to steal
everything bright and pretty. But there was this difference
between them: Joe either carried his treasures to his
cache on the roof or dropped them in the rain-barrel, while
Sam dropped his anj^where, even burying them at times.
He did not seem to place value on the things he stole, but
took them merely for fun.

As he became more expert in flying, he extended his
explorations away from home. But some wise spirit taught
him that no matter how friendly the home folks might be
to a pet crow, strangers were not to be trusted, especially
on their own premises. Consequently he never took great
liberties there. Nevertheless it was common for him to
come flying home with something that belonged to one of
the neighbors, but fortunately he never brought anything
of value.

Toward fall, when there was an abundance of large, fat
grasshoppers in the meadow, Sam spent considerable time
hunting there. It is sulrprizing how many grasshoppers a
crow will eat in a day, and grasshoppers were not the only
things he caught in the meadow. One day he came home
very proud of himself and exhibiting a field mouse that
was still kicking. Give it up ? Not he ! But he did like
to show what a hunter he was. After that he managed to
catch field mice almost every day. This gave him a new
lease of life, when the patience of the family was about
worn out with his roguish ways, for anything that catches
mice is valuable to a farmer.

When corn husking time came, Sam delighted to follow

214 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

the corn buskers, picking up shelled com and hunting for
the worms that are occasionally found in the end of the
ear. Most of these "worms had already gone into the
ground, but it was surprizing bow many Sam would find
by tearing the husk open far enough to see the end of the
ear.

When fall plowing began he delighted to stalk about over
the plowed fields, picking up beetles, worms, and grubs of
^11 kinds.

When winter came Sam did not have to hustle for food
as his wild kinsmen do, but nevertheless he enjoyed a
rabbit hunt now and then. Flying close to the ground he
would locate a rabbit sleeping in a tuft of grass or at the
root of a com stalk. Like a flash he would pounce on poor
bunny, probably striking him before he was aware of Sam's
presence. Away bunny would dash at full speed. Sam
would pursue and flying faster than the rabbit could run
every now and then would strike him so that in due time
the rabbit became easy prey. Almost always the crow
would draw blood the first time he struck the rabbit so
by the crimson stains on the snow I could easily track the
rabbit as he had run frantically here and there. Sam
would finally strike a fatal blow either in the eye or in
the back of the head. A wild crow would have eaten his
prey entire but Sam usually contented himself with eating
the eyes and possibly a few bites of the flesh, leaving the
carcass for some brother who might happen by, or for the
turkey buzzard that was always sailing somewhere in the
heavens on the lookout for just such a thing as this.

In the breeding season crows nest by themselves ; but in
the fall the longing for companionship and gossip is sure
to return, and roosts are established where the crows for

SAM BLACK 215

miles gather every night to roost. These roosts are often
pieces of thick timber that cover a hundred or more acres.
Trees that do not shed their leaves until spring are pre-
ferred for this purpose. I have visited one such roost and
it was not unusual to see scores of crows in a single tree
while it was an exception to find a tree in which they were
not roosting. They continued to arrive till late at night,
sometimes flying miles to reach this place. With the first
break of dawn they begin to scatter to the fields to feed,
usually going back to the neighborhood where they had
been reared.

Sam began to grow uneasy as the winter wore on, and
would frequently fly a mile or two with a flock of crows
that were on the way to a roost in East Central Iowa.
But strong as was the desire to know what was going on in
the roost and to have a part in the council of the race he
reluctantly came back to spend the night in the old willow
tree in the yard. After a few days of this uneasiness, we
came to feel there was no danger of his leaving, but one
night early in February he failed to come home. Next
morning he was on hand, however, begging for his break-
fast. This went on for a few days, when he began to bring
other birds home with him. They did not come to the
house to beg for food, but they helped themselves from
the corn crib and the chicken house. It was soon evident
that this could not be tolerated; we could not feed every
stray crow that Sam took it into his head to invite home
for breakfast.

There was one crow, doubtless a female, which was
clearly a favorite with Sam. Shall I say she was his sweet-
heart? At any rate they often sat near each other in the
orchard and jabbered in crow fashion, she each day grow-

216 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

ing bolder and more free to help herself to the good things
the place offered. One evening Brother John cleaned his
target rifle and said he was going to shoot the first crow
that came near. Next morning Sam came begging for his
breakfast, and his lady love began strutting about in the
yard picking up crumbs and crusts from the garbage pail.
When John stepped out of the house^ she flew to the top
of a tall tree a hundred yards away. He shot, and as luck
would have it, killed her. Her carcass was hung on a pole
near the hen house and this effectively put an end to
callers. For a few days Sam was disconsolate. Then he
did his best to persuade himself and his new friends that
it was an accident ; but they merely sat in the old orchard
forty rods away and watched while he came for his break-
fast. Some people say a crow mates for life. I do not
know. Sam's first love gone, he did not select another that
season, but spent his time gaining wisdom. He flew far
and wide. Was he gathering news for the crow's con-
clave when it met in the old dead tree in Gregory's
pasture ? He had an unusually keen eye and sharp wit even
for a crow. His experience as a pet had taught him so
much of human ways that his wisdom was almost uncanny.
Tho he usually came home at least once every day or two
for food, he soon became the local guardian and leader
of this race. When an owl, a hawk, or any other enemy
came into the neighborhood it was usually Sam who dis-
covered the intruder and gave the help call, a shrill pro-
longed ^*^Ca-a-a-ah, ca, ca." Soon crows would come from
all directions to help drive away the intruder.

Farmers seldom love crows. Crows like to feed their
young sprouted com and to secure it they pull up the
farmer's corn. No wonder every boy in the neighborhood

SAM BLACK 217

was ever on the alert to shoot a crow. "Not only could
he do so without censure^ but he must match wits
with a creature so cunning that it is a real triumph to
kill one.

Often I have tried to slip up on a flock of Sam^s lieu-
tenants when they were heckling an owl or a hawk. Like a
true leader, when Sam got his crowd together, he left the
work of driving away the intruder to them, while he kept
a sharp lookout for their safety. He had totally ignored
guns until Brother John shot his friend, but ever after-
ward he feared even us if we had a gun and were outside
of the yard. I could never get within gunshot of Sam and
his flock without his knowledge. No matter how busy
they were, one sharp "Caw, caw, caw'^ from Sam and they
left their victim and scattered instantly.

Sam was the recognized leader of the flock, and tho
young for such a responsibility, it was he who called their
council, heard the reports, and then perched silent on the
tallest limb and meditated. When calling his counsellors,
his call was distinctive. He would perch on the top of
a tree and call "Caw, caw, caw,'' wagging his whole body
with every "caw,'^ then wait a few moments and repeat
his call. Soon the crows would begin to arrive, but not
nearly so rapidly as when they heard the 'Tielp" call. Soon
all were together and the deliberations would begin. Some-
times they were noisy, more often they were dignified and
orderly. No matter, Sam always occupied the highest
perch; and remained till his flock scattered.

In the spring Sam selected a mate which refused to nest
near home. Soon he ceased coming home at all. Possibly
he became too familiar with some of the neighbors' things
and was killed. More likely, as I could no longer recog-

218 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

nize him, he became just a crow and lived in the vicinity
for years.

Of course we missed Sam, but he was never the jolly-
companion that Joe the blue jay had been, and I have never
cared for another crow. Doubtless they are interesting
and it may be that I am somewhat prejudiced against
them; but they are not so clean as most birds, and for
this reason I do not like to have them around.

Occasionally pet crows learn to talk. I have known two
that were as good talkers as a parrot. Such crows are
taken from the nest when quite young and reared where
they do not become familiar with crow language. Any
bird attempts to imitate the sound with which he is most
familiar, or perhaps it would be more exact to say the
language of those he regards as his own people. No bird
whose training does not begin young makes a first class
talker. Even parrots must either be taken from the nest
when very young, or taken where they will not hear others
of their race before they are a year old if they are ever to
become really good talkers.

Pet birds seldom mate with wildlings. Whether this ia
because they feel themselves superior or whether the wild-
lings consider them outcasts I do not know. That several
of my pet birds finally mated and settled down to normal
family life pleased me, for it led me to believe I was seeing
them under normal conditions, which is, after all, the only
way to become really acquainted with anything.

XXX

THE BOBOLINK

ONE afternoon in the late spring one of my brothers
brought me a black bird with white on the back
and shoulder and a whitish bordered buff spot on the
back of the neck. In size he was smaller than either
the red-winged blackbird or the robin, tho he was cer-
tainly more nearly the size of the red-winged black-bird
than of the robin. I had never seen a bird like him
before and did not know what he was. Strange to say,
for once neither father nor mother knew this bird's name.
,They both said that he was a white-winged blackbird, and
that he lived along the roadsides or more commonly along
the creeks and that he was scarce in our part of the
country. They said he was one of the best song birds we
have.

The poor fellow had had his leg broken and his wing
hurt in some way or other. Possibly some boy in the
neighborhood with a shotgun could have explained how
this happened. I got out my largest bird cage, the one
I always used in taming my pet birds, and determined to
do my best to nurse this bird back to health again. Father
whittled out a splint and helped bind up the broken leg
and the injured wing, while mother supplied her best
mutton tallow and balm of Gilead salve to anoint the
wounds.

219

220 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

This bird never acted as if much afraid, and made no
vain struggles to escape. In fact, from the very first he
would both eat and drink, tho he resented being handled
and would peck and fight with all of his strength if we
attempted to lay hands on him. Seemingly aware that he
was being helped while we were dressing his wounds, how-
ever, he was usually quiet. He had a stout bill and could
pinch hard with it. I have had him pinch hard enough
to draw blood more than once.

We fed him a variety of food. Our never failing Dutch
cheese was the staple article, but to it we added such
worms and bugs as we could catch, wheat, the seeds of
various kinds, bread, and even fresh apple. He improved
rapidly and within a week was beginning to chirp, and
truly he had a very musical voice. In a little more than two
weeks he was able to fly about in the room, tho he did not
use his broken leg perfectly as yet. He was still a bit shy,
and in making an attempt to get out through a window
which he evidently mistook for an opening he injured his
wing slightly again. Immediately I put him back in the
cage where he stayed another week. By this time he felt at
home with the family. His leg apparently was completely
well; at any rate in jumping about and swinging in the
cage he used it as well as the one that had never been
hurt.

Not wishing to repeat the experience of having him
injure himself against the window pane, I hung the cage
out in a tree and opened the door. Presently he noticed
this open door and hopped over and sat in it for a time
looking longingly at the trees, but apparently uncertain as
to whether it was wise to venture to fly. Finally he made
up his mind to make the attempt, and soon was hopping

THE BOBOLINK 221

about among the branches as happy as could be. But for
two or three days he did not go far from the house. Then
he began singing his wonderful rollicking song, whistling
and calling for hours every morning, evidently in hopes
that he might find a mate. It was not until he was turned
loose and began singing that we recognized him as a bobo-
link. Even now I am not sure whether we guessed it our-
selves or whether some one told us his identity.

This was my first experience with a bobolink. I never
knew whether this bird found a mate. At any rate he left
us within four or five days after he became able to fly
and never returned. We frequently heard a bobolink sing-
ing in the meadow, the grove, and the orchard near by;
but as I never found its nest, I was never sure that it
was my liberated friend.

The male bobolinks come north a week or two before
the females, and for two weeks are as care-free a lot of
bachelors as one would care to see. This time is spent
in making the fields and meadows ring with song. When
the females arrive they are to be courted and wou before
nest building can begin, and as my bird was found about
the time the first birds arrived he was probably healed be-
fore the last of the females arrived.

The bobolink should be given a place among our half
dozen best songsters. He has a wonderful range of
notes and it would be hard to improve on his song.
Beautifully colored as he is, his mate is a dull, sober-
looking brown bird. Nevertheless he is always proud of
her and does his utmost to entertain her with song dur-
ing the brooding season. He feeds on a variety of things,
eating caterpillars and insects of various kinds greedily
in the summer time. He seems to be especially fond of

222 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

army worms, those caterpillars that form in numberless
bands and march through our fields destroying everything.
When the babes arriTe^ however, he prefers to feed them on
young grasshoppers. Those who have watched him feed
his young, patiently noting hour after hour and day after
day what he feeds, claim he has a great preference for
green grasshoppers — not any particular kind of green
grasshoppers, but just green ones — not feeding brown ones
once out of a dozen times.

After the mating season is over '^Robert of Lincoln,^'
as he is sometimes called, loses his fine feathers and be-
comes a dull brown not much different from his mate.
Now with his family he flies away to the Southland, on
his way to South America to winter. On the way he is
not found in the edge of meadows or by the roadsides
swinging on a thistle and singing his jolly, rollicking song.
Instead he gathers in the Carolina rice fields in enormous
numbers, feeding on rice until he is almost too fat to fly.
Apparently he is so fond of rice that he forgets all his
good manners and his caution as well and does not even
leave the field to roost. Doubtless this over-fondness for
rice is responsible in two ways for the fact that large num-
bers are destroyed in some parts of the country. First, it
makes him so fat that his carcass is considered a very
toothsome delicacy; and second, roosting as he does in
enormous numbers in the rice fields, he becomes an easy
prey to the men who are hired to hunt for him.

A man will take a torch or a brilliant flashlight, a tow
sack, and a short broad paddle, and start for the rice field.
Holding the sack mouth wide open under one arm and
carrying the torch in his hand he moves slowly through the
rice field. The light blinds poor bobolink and at the same

THE BOBOLINK 223

time reveals his presence to the hunter. Eobert sits be-
wildered by the brilKant light, until the hunter gets close
enough to strike him with his paddle and knock him off
into the sack. Scores are often collected in this way in a
single evening.

Undoubtedly bobolinks become numerous enough in the
rice fields to be actually injurious, and doubtless the man
who feeds these birds has some claim on them; but never-
theless it seems too bad that so brilliant and jolly a song
bird should be sacrificed by tens of thousands every year
for no higher purpose than to be eaten. Surely if God
ever made anything to cheer us and make us happy it was
the bobolink, and it always seems to show a lack of ap-
preciation of the really worth-while things in nature when
people deliberately kill song birds for food. It must be
admitted, however, that Eobert never sings in the land
where he feeds on rice and is slaughtered. This makes the
case of his enemies appear more plausible, for many of
them do not even know his virtues in the parts where he
raises his young. It seems remarkable that a bird should
be largely an insect eater in his northern home and a grain
eater on his migrations. Perhaps he himself is ashamed
of it, for he changes his coat so effectively that even his
best friends in the North might not recognize him in the
rice fields of the South.

In the Northeastern part of the United States, where
the bobolink is most common, he sometimes forgets his
good manners and becomes a nuisance as soon as the corn
is in roasting ear. He occasionally gathers in the fields
by hundreds, and creates great havoc by tearing open the
ends of the ears and eating the sweet young corn.

XXXI

THE GRAFTER

ALMOST any time in the spring and summer I could
look out over the cow pasture and see a dozen or more
dull-brownish black birds (the males were a shiny black)
either picking around on the ground near the cows or sit-
ting on their backs. They would actually sit on the back
of a cow for a half hour at a time, and the cow seldom paid
any attention to them, or if she did she seemed rather to
encourage this friendliness. These birds were not shy, and
when I would go to drive the cows into the lot to be milked
it was not unusual for me to get within fifteen or twenty
feet of them. They came for a while to be great favorites,
even though they never sang and were not pretty. Their
color was not attractive and I have always believed a bird
should sing; but nevertheless I liked the way these birds
caught the flies off the cows' backs.

There is a certain insect that lays its eggs so that the
cow gets them in her mouth and swallows them. When
these hatch and the little grub finds its way into the cow's
circulation, and finally lodges in the tissue, just under
the skin along both sides of the back ; there the grub grows
and feeds until spring. By that time they are almost as
large as the grub worms we often find in old straw stacks
or in the ground in our gardens. They eat holes through

224

THE GRAFTER 225

the skin, crawl out of the cow's back, and drop on the
ground where they are transformed into the mature insect.

Father taught me that cowbirds eat these grubs when
they crawl out of the cows' backs and so are a protection
to the cows. I am inclined to doubt this, for while those
birds lived with our cows for years, every spring the cows'
backs were full of the "warbles." If the birds had been
active in catching the grubs, they should have grown less
numerous from year to year.

Finally I discovered something about these birds that
changed me from their friend to their untiring enemy,
and finally I exterminated them from our farm.

Our peach orchard was a favorite nesting place for yel-
low warblers, vireos, and other small birds. One spring
a red-eyed vireo nested in my favorite peach tree. This
was a seedling that ripened its fruit very early and was
of exceptionally good quality. That spring I had fallen
into the habit of visiting the tree every two or three days
speculating how long it would be before I could get a
ripe peach. One day I discovered a vireo's nest there, con-
taining three eggs.

The next day there were still three eggs in it, but they
were not all vireo eggs. One was much larger, and there
was a broken vireo egg on the ground underneath the nest.
I could not understand that, so I went back to the nest
the next day and found another vireo egg in it. Then
the vireo began sitting. Of course I was anxious to see
whether the big egg would hatch. It never occurred to
me that it was not a vireo's egg. Sometimes one of our
hens would lay an unusually large egg that contained two
yolks. Again one sometimes laid an egg not much larger
than a pigeon's egg, so it did not occur to me that this

226 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

belonged to some other kind of bird. But I was puzzled
about the difference in color. However, as there was oc-
casionally a variation in the color of the eggs of a chicken,
I thought little of that. I had set a number of these
large hen's eggs in hopes of getting a double chicken, but
none of them had ever hatched. Now I was anxious to
know whether this egg would hatch a double bird.

Well, it did hatch and not into a double bird. Three
days before the other eggs hatched I found this one had
hatched a lusty little bird indeed. The vireos began feed-
ing it, but it was never satisfied. By the time the other
eggs were due to hatch, it had broken one of them, which
of course meant that the bird it contained was killed. I
carefully removed this dead bird with two sticks, but was
still ignorant of the character of the lusty bird that had
hatched before its fellows.

When the other eggs hatched it was evident even to me
that they would not be the same kind of birds as this
stranger. I was more anxious than ever, however, to find
out what this bird would prove to be and so waited and
watched. The two young vireos had no chance for their
lives. They were so weak that their lusty mate managed to
get all the food the parents brought and trampled its nest-
mates until within two days one of them was dead. The
other evidently received little food for it grew slowly but
never seemed anything but starved. I felt sorry for it and
began feeding it with egg yolk, dutch cheese, and small
grasshoppers, often feeding it all it would eat two or three
times a day. It then began to thrive and I verily believe I
saved its life.

The young stranger was beginning to get feathers and to
my surprize they were black. It never seemed satisfied no

THE GRAFTER 227

matter how much it was fed, so I sometimes gave it por-
tions when I fed my little vireo. In a few more days it
was able to sit on the side of the nest and beg for food,
meeting the vireos before they could get to their own
young at all. Now the young vireo depended entirely on
my bounty; but the mother bird had become so accus-
tomed to me that she did not resent my lending a hand.
Two days later this bird was fully fledged and ready to
fly. Then it was evident what it was — one of these brown-
black cowbirds. Almost as soon as it left the nest it was
able to care for itself and it soon joined the birds in the
pasture. The old birds welcomed it, but I have often won-
dered what it must have thought of its mother when it saw
her. Surely there is little respect or affection among such
birds. After that the vireos turned their attention to their
own young, and it was surprizing how it changed in ap-
pearance and grew.

A survey of the birds' nests in the orchard and vineyard
revealed the fact that these were not the only birds that
had raised a cowbird. A pair of yellow warblers raised
one. When I found their nest it was the only bird in it. I
never knew what became of their own young, whether the
cowbird threw them out of the nest, whether they were
starved to death, or whether possibly they never hatched.
At any rate this bird was the only youngster that grew
to maturity. A pair of song sparrows raised a third.
Doubtless one or two other cowbirds were raised by other
small birds in the vicinity, but I never found them. Fur-
ther watching led me to know what hundreds of people
had known for a long time, that cowbirds never nest.
They sneak to the nests of the smaller birds and slyly de-
posit an egg in each nest until they have laid several

228 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

eggs. They throw out of the nest on occasions one of the
eggs that rightly belong there. Sometimes they break
and throw out more than one.

The cowbird is very sly and remains on a nest only a
few moments. She often lays in nests that are so small
it does not seem possible that she could sit on them. The
cowbird usually hatches two or three days before the other
birds, and either tramples or starves the rightful chil-
dren to death. The cowbirds do very little good, and for
every one of them that is hatched at least three valuable
birds are destroyed. That was the reason why I declared
war on them and exterminated them from our pasture.

If a cowbird lays an egg in a yellow warbler^s nest, as
it frequently does, these wise birds often refuse to act as
foster parents. They construct a second bottom in the nest,
burying the stranger's egg, sometimes even burying their
own, and then lay more eggs on this new bottom and pro-
ceed to rear their own family.

The cowbird belongs to the same family as most of
our other blackbirds. None of the blackbirds are excep-
tionally desirable birds, most of them having some decid-
edly bad habit. Among the most desirable are the red-
winged or swamp blackbirds, which we see in large flocks
in our groves and fields in the spring and fall. The red-
winged blackbirds are tolerably respectable citizens, and
if it were not for the fact that they destroy considerable
grain, few would object to them. You will have no trouble
in recognizing blackbirds, for of course they are black or
nearly black, and all of them are moderately small birds.
Few other birds are black all over in color except the crows
and ravens, and they are much too large to be mistaken
for blackbirds.

XXXII

THE MEADOW LARK

ONE day -when I was about ten years old I was playing
in the meadow when I discovered one of the nicest
little tunnels I have ever seen. It was an oval archway
perhaps five inches in diameter, leading under a large
tuft of grass. I explored it and found it ran back at least
two or three feet. Of course I was all interest at once
because aside from the tunnels of the bobtailed meadow
mice and the ants I had never seen anything of the kind,
and I knew this tunnel was far too large for such small
creatures as these.

The tunnel made a turn, and I was not able to see where
it led without disturbing it. Knowing that there must be
some interesting story at the other end, possibly some-
thing that would need watching for days, I did not want to
injure it, for I knew that if I did the little creature that
made it might forsake it. By very carefully pushing the
grass apart on the other side I was finally able to see that
after running for eighteen or twenty inches in a straight
line the tunnel turned abruptly to the right and after
running fully as much further there was a nest and in
that nest were five spotted eggs. Surely this nest belonged
to a wise bird, for nothing flying overhead could see the
little mother when she was sitting, and the babies were

230 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

likely to be safe uiitil they were well able to take care
of themselves.

The mother did not happen to be at home, so I stationed
myself some fifty or seventy-five yards away, began plait-
ing chains of white clover blossoms, and awaited her re-
turn. After half an hour or so I noticed a meadow lark
flying by, but it did not occur to me that this nest be-
longed to her. True, I had never seen a meadow lark's
nest, but I had known larks all my life, and she acted so
naturally that it was not suggested to me that this bird
was trying to learn whether I had found the nest and
whether it was safe to return. She alighted in the grass
near by and seemed to busy herself looking for worms. In
five or ten minutes she flew by again and alighted on the
other side. Again in a few minutes she came by, each
time getting nearer the nest.

Presently she gained a little more courage, alighted
within ten or fifteen feet of the nest, and began pecking
about here and there in the most unconcerned way pos-
sible. When she felt sure no one would notice it, she
ducked her head as low as she could and made directly
for the tunnel and sHpped in to the nest. Then the secret
was out. It was a meadow lark's nest ; the first I had seen
and for that matter the most cleverly hidden of any nest
I had known, excepting perhaps that of the humming bird.
Meadow larks always build their nest in the grass, but
they do not always take the trouble to conceal it as this
one had done. In fact, it is seldom that I have found a
meadow lark's nest hidden away in a tunnel where curious
eyes could not find it.

Lady Lark was a careful, painstaking housekeeper, never
allowing the least bit of trash or dirt anywhere about

THE MEADOW LARK 231

her nest. If any debris was left about my lark's nest,
the old bird managed to carry it away. She even carried
away pieces of paper I left to mark the nest, probably
fearing that they would attract attention to the place.

Many birds that build their nests on the ground lead the
young away from the nest almost as soon as they hatch,
but this is not true of the lark. Its young remain in the
nest until fully grown. The mother bird feeds them on
insects.

The meadow lark lives over a considerable portion of
the United States and is usually to be found on the ground
in meadows and pastures. These birds are plump and ac-
tive, about the size of the common bob-white quail, but
rather more slender. They have bright yellow throats and a
black V-shaped blotch on the breast, which serves to iden-
tify them. If we see a brown bird about the size of a
quail, with rather slender neck and a yellow throat, run-
ning about in the meadow and pastures, we can be pretty
sure that it is a lark. There are two varieties of meadow
larks, and they are best distinguished from each other by
the variation in the yellow around the throat and the
color of the upper parts, wings, and tail. Each kind has
a song of its own, altho even the song has some similarity
in the two varieties.

Meadow larks are among the first birds to be heard in
the early spring, and I have always considered them among
our most delightful songsters. We do not hear them sing
so often in the late summer or early fall ; but on any bright
day in the winter and from then on through the spring
and summer they may be heard every morning. As the
fall approaches, most of the meadow larks move to the
South, but many remain all winter. I have seen them by

232 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

the hundreds on the bare prairies of the Missouri River
valley between Omaha and Sioux City when the ther-
mometer was twenty below zero. At such times their
food consists largely of such seeds as they can pick
up. The day is never so cold but that if the sun comes
out and shines for an hour or two you can hear
them singing their thankfulness for its warmth. Where
I now live near Nashville, Tennessee, larks come in by
thousands every fall and are to be seen in great numbers
almost every day. In fact, I can sit in my class room and
look out over the pasture and see a dozen or more dis-
puting the hunting grounds with the kildeers. Most of
the larks go farther south than our locality, and in the
latter part of January or the first of February as they
begin to work their way back northward the fields and
meadows are all atune with them. They move north
leisurely, having a good time as they go, so it is no un-
common thing for them to spend several weeks with us
before going further.

Our meadow larks are not much like the English lark.
In fact, ours are not really larks. The English birds have
a prolonged song, while ours merely whistle a delight-
fully musical note, and repeat it every few moments. As
I write this, December tenth, I can hear the meadow larks
siQging in the distance. They have come from the north
and, unlike the bluebirds, are singiag their thankfulness
for a delightful winter home.

I have introduced you to the meadow larks, but I have
not said one word about their company name. When a
lark is introduced into learned company he is not presented
as "Mr. Lark," but as "Mr. American Oriole," (a later
name than starling), for that is his name in the big books.

THE MEADOW LARK 233

This may sound ever so well to those who are used to it,
hut when as a boy I read about the American orioles I
had not the least idea that they were my everyday friends,
the larks. Call them larks if you choose, but you should
know that they are really American orioles just the same —
not a relative of the black, pilfering starling of Europe.
Our meadow lark feeds entirely in the meadows, and eats
mostly insects, seeds, and a little grass.

XXXIII

THE HANGING BIRD

ONE morning early in May mother and I were out in
the apple orchard admiring the blossoms and looking
for the old mammoth bronze turkey's nest. Hoping we
might be able to track her to her nest, we were partly hid-
den behind a grape vine watching the old turkey as she
stole through the clover. Suddenly a bright orange streak
flashed before our eyes and a black and orange-yellow bird
about half way in size between a bluebird and a robin
alighted on a limb almost above our heads and began
caroling its song. I watched it almost breathless for fear
it might see us and fly. To me it was a new bird. I had
doubtless seen it before, but small boys do not always no-
tice all they see nor remember all they notice. This bird
was such a brilliant orange-yellow, with such black wings,
tail, and head, and its voice was so musical, that the
thought came to me at once^ "I wish this bird would build
its nest somewhere near, so I can watch it this summer."
Presently the bird flew away and I said to mother,
"What kind of bird was that?" She replied that it was a
"hanging bird,'' and to my question, "What is a hanging
bird ?" she explained that it was a bird that builds a hang-
ing nest. I asked if she supposed it possible that it would
nest where I could see it, for I had never seen a hanging

234

THE HANGING BIRD 3S5

bird's nest. *^es/' she said, ^'if you will get buiiclies of
horsehairs and pieces of string and put them about on
fence posts and in the limbs of trees, most likely this bird
will find them and decide to build its nest where material
is plenty." At once I asked where to get the horsehairs
and was given permission to take a pair of scissors and go
to the barn and cut a small bunch here and there out of
old Phoebe's and Flora's tails. Phoebe and Flora were
the old sorrel horses that were the main stand-bys on the
farm. Mother made me promise that I would not get
hair from the other horses' tails and that I would not get
so much as to spoil the looks of their tails; and away I
went, happy as could be, to get my horsehairs. As luck
would have it, father was in the barn; and when I told
him what I wanted he not only let me clip from Phoebe's
and Flora's tails but got me a fine bimch of long white
hair from Tuck's tail, and some long black hair from
Napoleon's.

Armed with this supply, I put horsehairs in the cracks
and under the splinters of every post and fence stake
within three or four rods of the great red maple tree that
grew near the milk house pump. Later mother gave me
some short pieces of cotton warp that were left when she
had finished threading the loom for a new carpet, and these
were scattered about in the same way.

Nothing happened for a day or two, and by that time I
was busy making stick nests in the box elder trees below
the bam in the hope that a robin would decide on one of
them as a convenient home for him, and my horsehairs
and strings were forgotten. I suppose I must have built
a dozen such nests, or what I called nests, and came home
at dinner time full of plans to tell mother about the won-

236 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

derful things I had been doing and the still more wonderful
ones I meant to do. But before I got the story half out of
my mouth she said, "Floyd, do you know the hanging
birds are using your horsehairs today?'' Of course, I
could not eat dinner until I had gone out to watch, and
sure enough these birds were busy carrying strings and
horsehairs into the very top of the red maple tree, where
they were weaving them into a baglike nest. A place had
been selected where the strings could be woven about three
limbs, so the nest would be perfectly secure. For nearly
a week the birds worked busily carrying strings and hairs,
and after the second day more or less grass, to this nest.
When it was completed it was a sort of bag about six
inches deep and three or four inches in diameter. It had
been woven together so securely that it was almost as
strong as a cloth bag would have been. Inside of this
baglike network was a lining of wool from the sheep shed,
feathers from the chicken yard, and soft grass and moss.
The nest was so high that I could not climb to any place
where I could look into it, and both mother and father
told me that this bird is so shy that if I ever touched the
nest they would leave it even tho there were young birds
in it. I used to climb the maple tree to within ten or
twelve feet of the nest and watch it with longing eyes, but
never dared go nearer — ^not because I was afraid the birds
would leave the nest but because the limbs were so small
that I feared they would break with me. I spent so much
time watching this bird that she finally came to regard me
as a necessary evil, and went about her business as tho I
were not near.

You will probably wonder what the real name of this
bird is, for doubtless you know that 'hanging bird" was not

THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE
Upper Bird— Male Lower Bird-Female

THE HANGING BIRD 237

its real name. It was a Baltimore oriole, a bird that most
of my readers can find in their orchards if they but take
the trouble to look. There are several varieties of orioles,
most of them orange or yellow and black in color and
all about the same size. So far as I know all of them build
hanging nests. Some of the others are fully as brilliantly
colored as the Baltimore oriole.

"We were especially delighted to have this nest by the
side of our orchard, because these birds feed on small
moths and butterflies or their caterpillars. The codling
moth, which lays the egg that makes the apple worm, is
especially liked by the orioles, and many farmers believe
that a pair or two of orioles nesting in the orchard will
save at least fifty bushels of apples from becoming wormy.
In those days we knew nothing about spraying to keep
away worms, so orioles were always welcome with us. In
Knowing Insects Through Stories,'*' you will find some of
the methods we used to get rid of the codling moth, but we
relied on the birds about as much as on anything to pre-
vent wormy apples.

Those birds used to drink and bathe regularly in the
trough where we watered the horses, just outside the yard
under their maple tree. I liked to hide among the blue
damson plum trees and watch them take their daily bath.
First Mr. Oriole would alight on the side of the trough,
drink a few swallows, throw a few drops of water over his
back with his bill, edge about on the side of the trough
looking for a place that suited him better, stick his head
in the water and rub it over his shoulders, splatter a time or
two with his wings, and then, perhaps, hop on the fence

Published by Funk & Wagnalls Company, 1921.

238 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

or on the lower limbs of the tree, look about, shake him-
self again, and I would be disappointed, feeling sure he
was not going to bathe after all. Presently he would hop
back on the side of the trough and again begin dabbling in
the water. After a few moments of these preliminaries he
would hop oS into the trough even tho the water were five
or six inches deep, and fairly make it fly as he splattered
with his wings, ducked and dived until in a few moments
he was wet to the skin. After that he would scramble up
on the side of the trough, shake himself a time or two, and
then begin drying the water out of his feathers. If dan-
ger had come just at that time, he would have found it
difficult indeed to escape, for I have seen him try to fly
to the top of the fence not more than three feet above
the trough and hardly succeed in doing so. After fluttering
and shaking himself as free from water as possible he usu-
ally hopped to the top of the tall corner post, which always
caught the sun, to finish drying himself. Here every
feather was carefuUy smoothed out and drawn through his
bill till it was clean and smooth, and then he flew back to
look after household affairs and allow his wife to take her
bath. It was never long before she appeared and bathed
as enthusiastically as her husband, but I never knew them
to bathe at the same time. One always waited until the
other was through and thoroughly dry.

I usually had several bird pets, and naturally became
anxious to add an oriole to the number, but it was a ques-
tion how I was to secure it. I could not climb to the nest,
still I had hopes that I could catch a young bird as soon
as it left the nest, but before it was able to fly well. I
watched carefully, but when the young birds left the nest
they were able to fly so well I could not catch them, so

THE HANGING BIRD 239

there was nothing to do but wait for the second brood. In
the meantime a neighbor, Milo Lemley, succeeded in getting
some young birds just as they were ready to leare the
nest. Not knowing what to feed them, he put them in a
cage and hung the cage in a tree near enough the nest
for the parents to find it, yet close enough to the porch for
him to watch what the old birds did. In this way he
hoped not only to avoid the trouble of feeding his birds but
also to learn what they were fed. We often did this with
young birds, and in this way found out much we might
never have learned otherwise.

The old birds found their young promptly and fed them
readily the first day ; but they also tried in every way they
knew to get their young out of the cage. The cage was
taken indoors at night, and put out again early the next
morning. Again the parents fed their young, but both old
and young made even greater efforts to open the prison
doors. Finally sometime after noon the parents seemingly
decided it was of no use; so they stopped trying to get
into the cage, and again went for food for the young. After
feeding them this time they flew away and did not again
return to the cage. Before night every young bird was
dead. It did not seem possible that they had starved, so
we felt sure the old birds had poisoned them rather than
allow them to languish in prison. Both mother and
Milo's father said that these birds will poison their young
if they are caged. After that I never tried to catch young
orioles, for tho I always gave my pet birds as great free-
dom as the wild birds as soon as they had become tame, yet
I felt it would be cruel to keep, even for a short time,
birds that preferred death to captivity. Others have caged
young Baltimore orioles, however, and report that the

240 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

parents feed them readily, and that they are easy to
rear.

My orioles nested in the top of the red maple tree year
after year, even after I no longer put out nesting mate-
rial for them. Perhaps they never missed my coopera-
tion, for in a farmyard there is usually plenty of wool and
hairs on poets and trees against which animals have rubbed.

XXXIV

PETER THE GOLDFINCH

PETER was a goldfinch. He never told me where he
hailed from nor just how it happened that he was
alone in the world; but I had always suspected that the
old spotted cat knew something about it, for a day or
two before I met Peter she had a lady goldfinch for her
breakfast.

I was in the garden planting peas when I heard a rustle
behind me and looked around. There was Peter, hopping
about in the raspberry patch hard by, dividing his time
between singing and trying to get the seeds of an Indian
lettuce head. I noticed him particularly because he was
one of the most brilliant colored finches I have ever
seen, and he had a white feather in his tail which served
to distinguish him from the other goldfinches in the vicin-
ity. Our gooseberry and raspberry patch, at the side of
the garden, and the plum orchard beyond had long been
favorite nesting places of the goldfinches — "wild canaries,'*
we called them ; so I was not surprized to see Peter. As he
could be easily recognized by the white feather in his tail.
I determined to get acquainted with him.

I then had no idea that these birds were not really
canaries. They are about the same size and the males are
as brilliantly colored as a canary. I had often wondered

241

242 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

"why the wild ones did not sing so well as those in our
neighbor's cage. I reaUzed that they are slightly heavier
in build than canaries, and that they have black wings and
a black cap ; but canaries often show a great deal of black,
and resemble goldfinches fully as much as the wild pigeons
resembled the tame ones that nested in our barn. I find
that most people make the same mistake of calling the
goldfinch a wild canary. At home when these birds
played havoc with the seed on an especially desired let-
tuce plant mother spoke of them as lettuce birds but
that was only a temporary name. In my own mind
I ascribed their inability to sing as well as tame
canaries to their lack of training. The facts are
that they belong to the same family but are different
species.

Peter had no wife. This was not Peter^s fault, for of
all the goldfinches in the vicinity none was more gallant
to the lady goldfinches and none sang so often as Peter.
In fact, it was this insistent singing that caused me to
watch him carefully enough to learn that he was a bache-
lor.

Goldfinches are sociable birds and usually fly in flocks of
at least half a dozen. Alighting on a sunflower head or a
weed that promises to furnish seed, they hunt carefully
for some time and then fly away together to the next
place. They have a peculiar up and down motion in their
flight, and a "Cut-a-cut-cuf' in a sweet wave like voice as
they fly. Should they pass where others of their kind are
sitting, they always receive an invitation to stop for a
visit and seem always to accept the invitation. Peter was
different. He hunted alone in the garden and the meadow,
tho he always invited every passing flock to dine with

PETER THE GOLDFINCH 243

him. Often he flew away with them, but it was not long
till he was again in his own garden.

The fall before I became acquainted with Peter my Aunt
Eve Adams had given me a canary bird. It was scarcely
grown, and no one knew whether it would prove a singer
or not. I cared for this bird carefully and it had become
very tame. Each day I watched for it to begin to sing.
My friends, wise in bird lore, said it did not sing because
I allowed it too much freedom. I never believed birds
were made to live in cages. I had a cage for my canary,
but it was little more than a convenient roosting and
feeding place, for the bird was allowed the freedom of the
house.

I called this bird *T)ick.'^ Had I waited a year, the
name would have been different. Dick soon learned that
the stove pipe was apt to be hot and that the dining room
table was forbidden ground. Otherwise he went wherever
he pleased. He was on the best of terms with the old
spotted cat. It was not uncommon after we had all been
away for some time to find this cat quietly dozing behind
the stove with Dickie sitting on her head pecking at her
ears. If he happened to peck a little too hard she would
open an eye sleepily, utter a Little mew of protest, and
perhaps shake him off of her head and then go back to
sleep.

When the weather became warm I often hung the bird
cage in the great willow tree in front of the kitchen door,
and before many days Peter discovered and began paying
attention to Dickie. Finally it dawned on us that Dickie
had been misnamed. We left the cage door open most of
the time. At first Dickie seemed afraid of the great out-
of-doors but before long she flew everywhere, but always

244 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

came back before dark. This came to be a habit, and
after that we did not take her cage in overnight.

I never knew just when it happened, but one evening
I discovered that Dickie was not in the cage. Probably
she had been gone for several nights. Mother said she
came back several times every day for seeds that were
always kept in the cage and for water. Nevertheless she
had been spending considerable time in the garden with
Peter.

It was the strangest occurrence I have ever known among
the wildlings; but Dickie and Peter fell in love with each
other, and finally Dickie ceased to come back to her cage
at all. We left the cage in the tree for two or three
weeks. But when Dickie did not return it was finally taken
into the house to await the needs of the first crippled bird
found in the neighborhood. We supposed that Dickie,
having been reared in a cage, had lost the instinct of the
wildlings and had been unable to cope with the hardships
of the gi-eat out-of-doors.

One day late in August I went to see if the Miner plums
were beginning to ripen. Imagine my surprize to have
Dickie meet me and alight on my shoulder as friendly as
could be. She seemed overjoyed to see me again. Soon
I noticed Peter. He was sitting in a plum tree near by
and seemed very much concerned over the turn events
were taking. He scolded and protested until it dawned on
me that Peter had at last found a wife and that his wife
was Dickie. Then I understood why she had forsaken
her cage. Before long I found their nest. It was not at
all like the nests we see in a canary's cage. I have never
seen a wild canary's nest, but from its description in the
books it must be something like the nest of the goldfinch.

PETER THE GOLDFINCH 245

At any rate Dickie's was built very much like the nest
of the goldfinches near by^ tho it did not show as fine
workmanship.

Goldfinches are peculiar birds. They are in the North
always early in the spring, but for some unexplained rea-
son do not nest until August. Just at the time other birds
have finished their year's brooding, and are beginning
to molt and get ready for winter, the goldfinches think
about rearing a family. Possibly they have been waiting
for an abundance of milkweed and thistledoT\Ti. At any
rate they raise their young in a veritable bed of down
gathered from these weeds. The outside of the nest is
closely woven of fine grass and shreds of tough bark, but
the bottom inside is a cushion of down sometimes an inch
thick. For so tiny a nest it would seem unnecessary to
make so thick a base, but evidently this bird, having waited
60 long, means to give its young the best that can be had.
The nest is often placed in a bush or low shrub, not
more than five or six feet from the ground. However, for
years our plum thicket was a favorite nesting place for
these birds, and as the trees had been pruned so that the
lowest limbs were five or six feet high, their nests were
usually ten or twelve feet from the ground; and nests
have been reported as high as thirty or forty feet.

The goldfinch sometimes weaves lichens in the outer cov-
ering of the nest, like the wood peewee, so that it is difficult
to discover. The goldfinch lays from four to six bluish
white eggs, not differing much from canary eggs except
that these last are usually marked with reddish brown.

The female goldfinch usually does all of the nestbuilding,
tho her mate sometimes assists in carrying material and
always feeds her while she is brooding. The mother canary

246 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

is also usually insistent on building her own nest, so the
resemblance Dickie's nest bore to those of the goldfinches
about her may have been due to the material furnished by
her spouse. When winter came, Peter, Dickie, and their
family flew away to the Southland.

The goldfinch feeds largely on weed and grass seeds,
and, small as he is, where these are abundant, he often
remains all winter, even where the thermometer goes
well below zero.

XXXV

THE SONG SPARROW

ON" my way to school and as I played in the fields I
was always charmed with the song of the song spar-
row. This is a small brown bird possibly a little less
heavily built than the English sparrow. The resemblance
in shape, size, and color is close enough so that probably
most of my readers would be able to recognize him as a
sparrow from having known his quarrelsome foreign
cousin.

But with this physical likeness the resemblance ceases.
The English sparrow is a spiteful, quarrelsome bird with
anything but a musical voice. He resembles nothing so
much as the quarrelsome, fighting street Arabs with whom
he lives. He seldom does anything which is of value to
man but is a genuine nuisance because he is so often quar-
reling, fighting, or pestering some poor birds that are
both musical and beneficial, until it leaves his vicinity in
disgust. On the other hand, the song sparrow is one of our
gayest and sweetest song birds. One could not travel the
roads near my boyhood home for a quarter of a mile vrith-
out seeing several of these birds sitting on fence stakes,
the top wire of a fence, or on weeds or twigs, every one
singing as if his whole mission in life was to cheer pass-
ers by.

247

248 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

Some birds have a musical voice but a limited range to
their notes. Other birds have a wide range of notes but
little music. The wood thrush is an example of the first
class while the blue jay is a good example of the second.
Perhaps few birds have a wider range of notes than he ; yet
few birds have less music in their voice. The song spar-
row is different from both these. He not only has a de-
lightfully musical voice but there is enough variation to
his song to make it pleasing indeed.

He builds his nest in the meadows or orchards; usually
the nest is on the ground and sometimes in a bush or
a tree. It seems that these birds can never be sure which
is best. They raise three broods each year, and build
three nests in which to do so. The first may be on the
ground, the second in a tree, and the third in a bush, or
vice versa. The nest is made of grass and lined with hair,
usually horse hair. The eggs are bluish white, speckled
all over with brown. My observation has been that six are
usually laid in the first clutch, five in the second, and only
three in the third. The young are fed largely on insects.
The mother is a faultless housekeeper, carrying all litter
thirty or forty feet from the nest. In fact, when her
young are ready to fly, her nest is in as good condition as
that of most birds when first built. A new nest would
seem wholly unnecessary, but this bird will take no
chance with vermin or disease — strange contrast with her
filth loving English cousin. The old bird feeds almost
entirely on insects and weed seeds; and, living as he
does where weed seeds are most apt to be a nuisance, his
efforts in this line are beneficial indeed.

After you have learned to recognize sparrows by their
chape and general appearance you will be able to distinguish

THE SONG SPARROW 249

the song sparrow from the others by his beautiful song.
The song sparrow is one of the first birds to arrive in the
spring and one of the last to leave in the fall. In fact,
as far north as my old home in Southeastern Iowa they
sometimes stayed all winter. At intervals, when there
were warm days, they sang even in the winter. In fact,
I think I especially loved these birds because they were
60 cheery and full of song when there were so few birds
about.

I am not attempting in this story to tell the story of
one sparrow only, but to help you to learn about sparrows
in general, for they are numerous in this country. It is
said that on the average about every tenth bird in the
United States is a sparrow, and this is not necessarily
because of the large number of English sparrows either.
Most of our American sparrows, of which we have more
than a hundred kinds, are beneficial because they live so
largely on weed seeds and insects.

Another of our most common and widely distributed
sparrows is the chipping sparrow, so called because of
the peculiar "chip, chip,'' which is the most common note
it utters. As a child I knew it as the "chip bird." You
will find it easy to locate one by its chipping song.

XXXVI

THE TOWHEE

THE desire to know the wildling springs as naturally in
a boy's heart as to breathe the fresh air or run in the
warm sunshine. I am sure that when as a five or six-year-
old boy I used to beg a pin from mother, bend it into a
fish hook, tie a twine string just below the head, and
trudge away fo Wymore's Branch to spend an afternoon
fishing, it was not just because I liked to catch fish. I
think the greatest pleasure connected with the whole oc-
cupation was the opportunity to get out with nature, and
the chance to match wits with the finny denizens of the
brook. In fact, I did not always try to catch these fish.
Many an hour I have fished with the bait fastened on the
string in such a way that the fish could take it readily
without being caught. It was great sport to dangle this
bait near the surface of the water and watch the different
ways the various kinds of minnows fed.

There was a shady pool at the foot of the fern bluff only
a few rods from an old stone quarry where some skunks had
their den. I especially liked to fish there, not because it
was the best place in the creek to catch fish, but because
the water was clearer than anywhere else and I could see
more of the fishes' doings. Besides at this place it made
one feel glad that he was alive just to look at the flowers
and ferns on the bank. Since I have grown old enough

250

THE TOWHEE 261

and brave enough to go out among the wildlings without
any excuse, I have abandoned both fishing and shooting
for sport.

While I especially liked to fish in this pool, there was
a little black, orange, and white bird which did not ap-
preciate my presence. I never could come near this
place but he began flitting about among the branches and
uttering a peculiar cry of protest which sounded to me
something like ^^V-E-E-INK W-R-R-INK."

This very active bird was somewhat similar in size and
appearance to the Baltimore oriole, but lacked the golden
color. He never was still for more than a few moments
at a time, but was always jumping back and forth, here
and there, and darting through the foliage until it almost
made me dizzy to watch him. We called him the "Joree."
Since I have grown up I have come more often to speak of
him as the "towhee." In fact, there seem to be few birds
that have more names than this fellow.

This towhee was almost always on the ground or slip-
ping back and forth among the low bushes. He especially
delighted in the willows that hung out over the creek, for
there he could find plenty of caterpillars and other food and
be concealed at the same time. From there he would fly
to the bank under the old fernery and scratch vigorously,
making the leaves fairly fly.

If you wish to identify this bird, there is no character-
istic more prominent than this habit of scratching in the
leaves. Few birds as small as this are at all likely to be
found on the ground scratching and turning over the leaves.
If you approach he slips under a brush pile at once, or
slyly moves through the brush or tall weeds. In fact, he is
distinctly a ground dweller.

262 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

His nest is made by scratching a hole in the ground
just large enough so that when the leaves and grass which
constitute the nest are fitted in place, it will be level with
the surface of the ground. It is usually placed under a
bush or in a thick tuft of grass. Shreds of bark and dry
leaves are piled in iirst and then lined with dry grass, but
the leaves and bits of bark are left in sight and others
are strewn about until it is almost impossible to discover
the nest. This usually contains four or five dingy white
eggs, finely speckled with reddish lilac. The female bird's
brown and white markings mingle closely with
the color of the dead grass and dry leaves so as effectively
to conceal the bird when sitting. Mr. Towhee is exceed-
ingly nervous, and is continually spreading his wings and
opening his long fan-like tail with a jerky motion which
is very noticeable because of the white spots it reveals. I
have followed these birds up and down the creek and
watched their maneuvers for hours at a time. It is sur-
prizing how many insects and grubs they eat. They eat
something two or three times every minute that they are
hunting, and they seem to hunt more than half of the time.

As a songster the towhee is a shining success. Few birds
have more musical notes, when he wishes to sing. However,
the note most common is the rasping sort of ^^-R-R-INK'^
mentioned above. His real song is usually given from the
thick leafy branches of some tree, and is more often
heard in the early morning or late evening.

XXXVII

THE CARDINAL

EAELY one spring morning we started from home to
drive to Sigourney, our country seat — father, mother
and I. I remember well that when we entered the great
body of timber that extended from the Rock Creek bot-
toms to Skunk Eiver I was interested at once, for my ear
detected the whistle of a bird with which I was un-
acquainted. I had no sooner noticed this than father said
to mother, '^Hear that? "I believe that is a southern red
bird/' He stopped the team and we listened. Surely
enough we heard the whistle repeated and almost as soon
as the song was finished a streak of red flashed through
the air, and a bright cardinal-red bird alighted on a
branch not far from our horses' heads. I think I shall
always remember that bird because I was so impressed
with its beauty. He was a little smaller than a blue jay
and almost a uniform shade of cardinal red. He ruffled
up a beautiful topknot, chirped at us a time or two, and
then began his delightful love call again.

In about a month I had the good luck to accompany
father and mother to Sigourney again, and we decided to
take the same road and see if we could find this red bird's
nest. Mother was reared in the South where cardinals
are abundant and knew their habits well, and father hav-

253

254 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

ing spent several years in southwestern Missouri was fairly
familiar with them. When we reached the place where
we had seen the bird, mother said "We ought to find the
nest somewhere about here for from the way that bird
was singing when we passed before, I think it likely that
he had already started nest building and they almost always
do their singing near the nest." Before we had time to get
out of the wagon the male cardinal alighted in the tree
above our heads and began scolding and fussing. Now we
felt sure the nest was near, and surely enough it was not
long until we noticed the little reddish brown mother sit-
ting on the nest. The nest was in the branches of a white
oak tree so near to the road and so low that by standing up
on the seat we were able to look into it.

As soon as the mother realized she was seen, she left
the nest and joined her husband in complaining at our
trespassing. Nevertheless we all three had a good look
at the nest although we did not go nearer than ten feet.
The eggs had already hatched, but the young were evi-
dently not over three or four days old. Father and mother
were as much disappointed in this as I, for we had planned
that if we found birds old enough to raise by hand we
would take them for pets. Fearing some one might come
by and see us looking at the nest and so learn of its where-
abouts, we started on as soon as we heard an approaching
wagon.

The nest was only about four miles from home, and we
determined to return for the young birds later. We did
not get back for three weeks and were again disappointed,
for not only were the young birds gone but we could not
find the old ones. Later we learned that an irresponsible
man with his gun had come along. There are those wha

THE CARDINAL 255

can not be content to allow a bird to live. Its very happi-
ness seems to grate on such souls. The more rare and
beautiful a bird is the more determined they are to kill it.
That was the only wild cardinal I ever saw in Iowa, though
once some twenty years later I heard one whistle in the
deep woods. Now they are more common there.

These birds are found in abundance throughout the
South, as far north as Ohio, Indiana and Illinois. They
are rare in New York, Pennsylvania and New England.
They range westward almost to the Eocky Mountains, a few
having been seen even in Colorado and South Dakota.
They are easily recognized, being\^ ur only red bird with a
topknot. The female is slightly'si^aller than the male,
and is of a reddish brown color. They are grosbeaks, and
have the stout beak of this group. We have several gros-
beaks, all having stout bills, broad and thick at the base,
and of only moderate length. This characteristic is so well
marked that if you famiharize yourself with one you
should find it easy to recognize the other members of the
group.

When about fifteen years ago I moved to Tennessee, I
found cardinals abundant everywhere and have had the
opportunity to become well acquainted with them. They
do not migrate, but stay all winter in the vicinity of their
nesting place. There is no more beautiful sight than a
flock of cardinals on a snowy day. At that time a half
dozen or more are often found together in fence rows or
on the border of woods, feeding on weed seed or buck-
brush berries. Their brilliant color makes such a contrast
with the snow that they can be seen a long distance. At
no time are they more active or apparently more happy
than then.

256 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

That is the time to make friends with them. A few
crumbs scattered near the door will usiially accomplish
this. One winter we regularly threw the crumbs from
the table a few feet from the kitchen door. It did not take
long for the birds to learn this, and a pair of cardinals were
the most regular patrons of that lunch counter. Soon
they were waiting in the trees that grew in the yard long
before feeding time came. They did not hesitate to alight
on the railing of the porch and peep in at the window if
the crumbs did not arrive when they thought they should.
Finally they took up their abode in our yard and nested in
a cedar tree. Cardinals.' prefer to nest in such well con-
cealed places, for the*^, ine mother bird is hard to see when
on the nest.

The male cardinal assisted in building the nest, but then
his work was done until the young were hatched. The
males of many birds divide with their mates the tedious
work of sitting, but not so the cardinal. The female car-
dinal may feel very proud of her gorgeous colored lord, but
the labor of doing all the sitting is the price she must
pay for this luxury. Her lord is so brilliantly colored
that neither he nor the nest would be safe were he to sit.
He does his best to make up for this, however, by singing
and whistling by the hour in some nearby tree to entertain
his wife. He is no flirt, neither will he tolerate the pres-
ence of a rival in what he regards as his domain. Should
another female cardinal come near his nest, he pays not the
least attention to her; but should a male come, he attacks
him fiercely and drives him from the vicinity.

The cardinal lays three, four, or five eggs that vary some-
what in color from gray to clear white. Ordinarily they

raise two broods in a year. The male is active feeding

O o

THE CARDINAL 257

the young and attends to their training when they are
able to fly.

There is no bird with which it is easier to make friends
than with the cardinal. I have a friend who without
thought began throwing crumbs from the table into the
yard near the house. In a few days the cardinals were
feeding there and of their own will almost immediately
formed the habit of alighting on the window sill to beg for
crumbs. Undoubtedly seeing his reflection in the glass,
the male cardinal first began pecking at the window think-
ing he was fighting another bird, but as this attracted the
attention of the family who thought that he was asking for
food and provided it, he soon learned to come to peck at
this window till he was fed. When insects and berries
became plentiful, however, he stopped coming, though he
continued to be very tame and played about on the prem-
ises a good deal.

XXXVIII

THE INDIGO BUNTING

ONE spring as I was playing in the grove I heard
a strange chirp and looking up into a tree saw a
new bird, a slender little fellow about the size of a vireo.
This bird appeared to me to be a deep blue green, tho
other people insist that his color is not green but blue. I
was much interested in the little stranger because I had
never heard of a green bird, so I promptly named it "the
green bird/' I went to the house and persuaded both
father and mother to come and see my find. We were not
long in locating it among the branches, but neither of
them had ever seen it in our woods before. They agreed,
however, that he must be an indigo bunting or, as a friend
a little later told me, an indigo finch. In fact, they had
both known him elsewhere. Now-a-days we call this bird
the "indigo bunting.'^

Evidently these birds were strangers in our neighbor-
hood, for many neighbor boys reported a new bird at about
the time I saw mine and they all said it was a little green
bird. They became abundant that spring and ever after
were among the regular inhabitants of our grove. I have
never been able to understand why birds that have not
been in the habit of living in a certain locality will on a
sudden move in in large numbers; but clearly that was

258

THE INDIGO BUNTING 259;

the case with the indigo bunting, and from that day
forward as long as I lived in Southeastern Iowa it was
abundant.

This bird is not inuch of a songster. In fact, we never
considered him a song bird at all, but we liked to see him
flit back and forth among the trees because of his bril-
liant color. Because of his color and shape he could hardly
be mistaken for any other bird. He is much more slender
than the^ bluebird and has no red on the breast. These
birds vary more or less in color, some being more nearly
green, others more nearly blue. In the picture you will
see a good representation of these birds, so a careful de-
scription of their appearance is hardly necessary. You
will have no difficulty in recognizing them after you have
looked at the picture carefully.

They prefer to live in the open places in forests, and
on the borders of woods rather than in the deep forest it-
self, tho I have frequently seen them in the deepest woods.
They feed largely on insects and are desirable birds to
have about.

The nest is usually built of leaves and coarse grass, well
lined with fine roots and fibers of bark, and the inside is
nicely finished with hairs. The birds lay three or four
white eggs and usually raise two broods in a year. You
will generally find the nest in a tangle of brush or on the
branches of low growing trees, seldom more than four or
five feet from the ground and completely sheltered by a
canopy of leaves.

We have quite a number of buntings in this country, aU
delightful little creatures, feeding largely on insects and
weed seeds or v/ild berries, and most of them are bright
colored. We like to see brilliant colors in birds almost

650 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

as well as in flowers. Consequently any bird that shows a
brilliant color is especially welcome.

The indigo bunting is more widely distributed than
the other varieties^ and is so conspicuously colored that
it seemed the easiest one for you to learn to identify. After
you have become acquainted with it, you will the more
easily recognize the others,

vt ^

y.iwi^.

PAIR OF INDIGO BUNTINGS
Upper Bird— Male Lower Bird -Female

XXXIX

THE SUMMER TANAGER

WHEN I moved to Tennessee one of the first things I
did was to visit an old friend who had moved into
the hill district of Tennessee, purchased land, and was
conducting a rural school. He was working on the unique
basis of earning his living from the soil and inviting the
neighbors' children who had no good opportunity for edu-
cation to come to his school without money and without
price.

As one means of earning a livelihood he had two or
three swarms of bees. Knowing that I had been interested
in bees most of my life, he invited me to examine them,
stating that they were not doing well. "We went out and
looked through his hives and surely enough I found all
the swamas weak, yet I saw no evidence of disease. I could
not understand this, because there were plenty of flowers
near by and I could see no reason why they should not
be strong and gathering an abundance of honey. I ex-
amined the hives for moths but there were none. I was
at loss to understand the situation, so we sat down on a
log near the bees to discuss the matter.

We had not been there long before I saw a beautiful
red bird of a variety I had never known light on a twig
near the bees, and while I was trying to decide whether it

261

262 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

were a summer tanager, a bird of which I had heard
much but had never seen, it flew in front of one of the
hives, caught a bee and again lighted on its twig. In a
moment it repeated this maneuver and within a few min-
utes it caught fifteen or twenty bees, quite enough I should
think for a good meal for any bird of its size. It had
hardly left before its mate, a beautiful reddish brown
bird, took its place and remained until she had satisfied
her appetite on bees.

This was a surprize to both of us because, while we
knew that these birds feed on insects, we had never known
that they catch bees. We continued to watch the bees
from time to time during the day and there was a summer
tanager there almost half the time. Of course this ex-
plained at once why the bees were not doing well.

We did not know how many birds were feeding there, but
it was evident that there were more than two, for no two
birds could possibly eat so many bees as we saw caught that
day. After watching them for a week, my friend, himself
something of a naturalist and a great lover of birds, de-
<;ided he would have to do a distasteful thing in self -pro-
tection, so he took his gun and began shooting tanagers.
The first day, he killed eight of these birds feeding on his
bees. Within a few days the bees began to grow strong,
showing that this had been their only trouble; and as he
had killed all the summer tanagers near by, he had no
more trouble.

Lest my readers should think this habit of catching
bees is common to these birds I wish to say that the event
occurred more than twelve years ago and I have kept
bees ever since and so has my friend. Summer tanagers
are so numerous that seldom a day passes without seeing

THE SUMMER TANAGER 263

several of them^ but I have known but one other pair of
these birds to bother bees.

Two summers ago a pair of tanagers made up their
minds that the easiest way to make a living was to catch
bees from my apiary. There were some sixteen or eighteen
strong swarms of bees and as there was only one pair of
tanagers making trouble, I decided to let them alone. I
feared that when their young were able to fly they might
train them to catch bees also, but made up my mind that
when this occurred would be time enough to take drastic
action. Those birds fed on bees regularly for perhaps two
weeks and then began to come less frequently. Within
another two weeks, while they were often to be seen flit-
ting about in the trees near the apiary, they apparently
entirely ceased catching bees. I never learned whether
they tired of bees as food or whether they had been catch-
ing them in an emergency when other food was scarce.

The summer tanager is common over most of the
Southern part of the United States, and is found in fewer
numbers north of the Ohio river as well. They are easily-
recognized, as the male is practically red all over and
has no crest or topknot. The only other all red bird we
have is the cardinal grosbeak, and he not only has a very
conspicuous topknot but is larger than the summer
tanager. The only red bird that could in any way be
mistaken for the bird we are studying is his cousin the
scarlet tanager, the most brilliant bird in the American
woods. The scarlet tanager is a more fiery red, and has
jet black wings and tail.

The tanagers are slender birds, not much larger than
a kingbird or a phoebe. They all feed largely on insects,
as can be inferred from my story. The summer tanager

264 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

feeds largely on beetles, caught on the wing or in trees. In
fact, it seldom alights on the ground, tho I have seen it
do so. It eats beetles so large that it seems impossible for
it to swallow them. After these insects are digested the
indigestible feet, legs, and shells are rolled into a ball by
the bird's stomach and disgorged.

This bird can be heard uttering an unmusical "chickey-
chucker-chuck'' from time to time as it flits among the
branches. In mating time, however, it sings freely early
in the morning — the song resembling that of a vireo, only
sweeter.

The summer tanager keeps itself well hidden in the tops
of trees, and for this reason it seems strange that it
usually nests on a horizontal limb seldom as much as twenty
feet high and often so low that one can look into the nest
from the ground. This nest is built of dry weeds, etc.,
bound together by dry grass and is so poorly fastened to
the limb and so shiftlessly put together that a high wind
often shakes it to the ground.

The three to five light blue eggs are brooded by both
parents — twelve days are required for them to hatch.
When the young are old enough to fly, the parents do not
attempt to rear another brood but lead the young through
the woods for a while and in the fall they all go south
together. The young look much like the mother, but can
be recognized by their hunger call — such a forlorn, pained
tone as to touch even the hardest heart. Evidently they
succeed in touching the parents' hearts, for the young are
fed for two or three weeks after they are able to fly.

XL

FLYGOOD AND FLEETWING

IN the story of Jerry, the kingbird, I told yon of two
purple martins that caused the death of Jerry. I think
I told you that they left us, but I did not tell you what
became of them. But before I give you their story let
me tell you something about their family.

Martins are the largest of our swallows. Swallows
are moderately small birds with long, powerful wings,
and are among our most rapid flyers. When on the
wing they resemble chimney swifts, tho they have differ-
ently formed feet and legs, and often alight on dead
trees or other convenient resting places. They have large
mouths as, indeed they must have, for they catch their
living in the air.

Among the most common varieties are the cliS swal-
lows that plaster their mud nests against the side of cliffs
in the mountain country, or under the eaves of the barns ;
the bank swallows that burrow in the mud banks of our
midwestem streams ; the barn swallows which plaster their
mud nests inside our barns, and the purple martin, which
has become almost dependent on man for its nesting place.
Flygood and his wife Fleetwing, who attempted to live in
my martin box, were purple martins.

After being convinced that they could not live with me

265

266 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

they went to our nearest neighbor, only about two hun-
dred yards from our house, and took possession of a new
martin house that had just been put up. I became well
acquainted with them, for seldom a day passed that I was
not at this neighbor's from one to half a dozen times.
The martin house was a two-roomed apartment, and of
course Flygood and his wife needed only one. Contrary to
the habits of the race, they did not invite any of their
friends from neighboring colonies to move in and live next
door ; or if they did the invitation was not accepted. Never-
theless, this pair of martins set up housekeeping in one
apartment of the house and immediately began carrying
straw and grass to build a nest.

A pair of bluebirds had had their eyes on this house
for some days and were highly displeased when the martins
moved in. I do not know why these bluebirds had not
already taken possession. They come north at least a
month earlier than the martins, and ordinarily would have
had eggs or even young birds by the time the martins ar-
rived. I do know that they had been visiting this house
and twittering and making a great demonstration over it
for two or three days. There were three or four families
of bluebirds living within a hundred yards of this par-
ticular house. No sooner had the martins entered the
house than the bluebirds attacked them. One pair of blue-
birds is not able to drive away a pair of martins, but no
sooner had the war begun than the other bluebirds in
the neighborhood came to assist, Flygood and Fleetwing
held a twittering conversation, as if trying to decide
what to do. They had been driven from our house and it
seemed that they might have the same experience here.
But they were not minded to give up so desirable an apart-

FLYGOOD AND FLEETWING 267

ment without a struggle. Evidently it was settled between
them that Flygood should remain and hold possession of
the disputed home while Fleetwing went for help. Flygood
flew back to the house, chased the bluebirds out and then,
sitting with his head and shoulders in the entrance, gave
battle to all comers. Fleetwing rose in quick circles and
started to Lemley's, more than a quarter of a mile away,
and inside of ten minutes was back accompanied by a
dozen or more martins that she had brought to help.

It took only an hour or two of real battle between the
martins and the bluebirds before the latter gave up the
struggle, and the martins slept in the house that night. As
soon as the matter was settled the visiting martins left
and, so far as I know, never again paid a visit to their
friends.

This impressed me very much. Evidently these birds
not only knew that others of their kind lived at Lemley's,
but they were able to tell them their troubles in a way to
convince their neighbors that the proper thing was to come
over and help.

It was late by the time these birds took possession of
this house. Their neighbors had already begun to lay
eggs. I presume that explains the fact that they carried
only a small amount of straw and made the poorest excuse
for a nest I have ever known martins to build. There was
enough straw to keep the eggs from rolling about, but that
was all.

These martins were friendly fellows and did not take
offense when their human friends peeped into their home.
Their house was on a pole only twelve or fourteen feet
high and it was easy to place a ladder against the pole and
see what was going on inside. The second day after these

268 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

birds took possession of the house by noon there was a
creamy white egg inside. In three days there were three
more eggs, and then the mother bird started sitting, but
troubles were not over.

A pair of English sparrows, among the very first ever
seen in our neighborhood, decided that this martin box
had been constructed especially for them. English spar-
rows appear to have no conscience. No matter how far
the nesting operations of other birds have gone, if they
decide that a nesting site is desirable they immediately
set about to take possession.

These martins were busy catching insects when these
sparrows arrived, entered, and decided that the location
was ideal. To be satisfied of this meant to act, so these
busybodies began to throw on the ground the few straws
the Martins had placed in the box. Nor was this all. A
sparrow had just come to the door with one of the precious
eggs in her mouth when Elygood circled near enough the
house to see what was going on. With a chatter of anger,
he flew like a bolt to the nest hole, entered, and catching
the sparrow by the back of the neck, backed out of the door
and shaking her angrily, flung her to the ground. By this
time his mate arrived and joined in the melee. The spar-
row which had been so peremptorily thrown out was not
hurt in the least but merely infuriated. For some time
there was a battle on and about this martin house; but in
spite of all her pernicious ways, the sparrow is no match
for the martin when numbers are nearly even. The spar-
rows had to leave the martin box, and they took up their
abode in the wind-mill tower nearby.

The martin is a strong fighter, but he is not spiteful.
When the matter of possession of the nest box was settled.

FLYGOOD AND FLEETWING 269

they paid no further attention to the sparrows. But Eng-
lish sparrows are mean-spirited and carry a grudge. For
weeks these sparrows lost no opportunity to slip into the
martin box and commit any depredation they could. Thia
made life strenuous for the martins. Flygood did not
attempt to help brood the eggs, but perched on the martin
box much of the time watching for the sparrows. Half a
dozen times a day it was necessary for Flygood to chase
them away. He sometimes left long enough to secure food,
and he even carried food to his mate at times; but usually
she left the nest and went for food on her own account. At
these times Flygood never left the precious nest more than a
few feet. Even then he often had to use strenuous efforts
to protect the nest. While ordinarily only the female
sparrow came to the martin house, one day when the
mother martin was away bathing or gathering food the
male sparrow came and drew Flygood away in pursuit
while his wife slipped into the nest. She threw another
egg out of the nest only a day or two before it would have
hatched. These sparrows were not now fighting for a nest-
ing place. They had a nest and eggs of their own. What
they did was done apparently out of mean-spirited spite.

After that day's experience the martins kept more care-
ful watch than ever over the house. The experience of
having the female sparrow break an egg while he chased her
husband taught Flygood a lesson. Now he never chased a
sparrow more than a few feet before he returned to the
house to make sure that its mate had not slipped in during
his absence.

When the young hatched, new difficulties presented
themselves, for they must be fed at all hazards, since star-
vation was even more to be dreaded than sparrows. Per-

270 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

haps it was fortunate after all that two of the eggs had
been broken, for now there were only two baby mouths to
fill, and it seems that young martins are all appetite. No
matter how often they are fed, they are always ready for
more; and in spite of all the parents could do, those
babies were always ready to accept hard boiled egg or
small grasshoppers at my hand. By the time they were
a week old, they were too large for the sparrows to injure,
and both martins and sparrows seemed to recognize this.
So both parents were free to hunt, and it was only a few
days till both seemed to show more vigor of flight than
when they were living the strenuous life necessary to safe-
guard the home.

The old spotted cat which, like most of her tribe, some-
times caught birds, but seemed to be particularly for-
tunate in catching only those I was glad to see destroyed,
went down to the neighbor's, climbed the wind-mill tower
and caught the sparrow on her nest. She not only made
quick work of the mother, but devoured the five young
birds as well; and this ended the martins' trouble from
that source.

Not only had the martins guarded their nest against
the sparrows, but they were almost as active as Jerry the
kingbird in chasing and keeping hawks and crows from
their neighborhood. Because the martins ere such fighters
they were favorites with our American Indians. Before
the white man came to our shores, these people made it a
practise to cut holes in the side of large gourds and hang
them in the trees near their village to attract the martins.
The birds in turn protected from buzzards and hawks the
deer skins and other pelts which were stretched on the
trees near the Indian camp during the tanning process.

FLYGOOD AND FLEETWING 271

Probably the early settlers got the idea of building mar-
tin houses from the Indians. Whether this is true or not,
a colony of purple martins living in a yard is a more effec-
tive protection against hawks than half a dozen shotguns;
for man is usually either too busy or too stupid to see a
hawk when it comes, but these sharp-eyed birds are always
on guard, and seldom indeed can a hawk slip into the
yard and catch a chicken while these birds are about.

The young birds had been out of the nest at least two
weeks before the old birds ceased feeding them. Even
then they slept in the home nest every night.

The mother bird laid five more eggs as soon as these
youngsters could fly and their sleeping in the nest never
seemed to concern her in the least. Doubtless they were
careful not to break the eggs or to injure their younger
brothers and sisters when they hatched. They occasionally
entered the box in the day time, but I question whether
they fed their young brothers and sisters. With many birds
one could easily have settled this matter by watching, for
had they done so they would have carried the food in their
bills ; but martins swallow their prey and then thrust their
bills down the young bird's throat and there disgorge the
partially digested food. The feeding always occurs inside
the house, so mere man cannot tell whether a bird that
enters the box feeds the young or not.

When the second brood of young were able to fly, a third
clutch of four eggs was laid. By this time sleeping quar-
ters were crowded at night, for the five eggs of the second
clutch all matured into fully-grown birds. All seven of
the young birds crowded into the nest every evening,
but their parents slept next door. It would have seemed
more in keeping with our ideas to send the older children

272 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

next door to sleep ; but I have no disposition to criticize the
.housekeeping methods of my little neighbors, especially as
every one of the third clutch of eggs hatched and all lived
ito maturity. By the first of August there were thirteen
martins living in this house. With no family cares, they
now roamed over orchard and meadow, sometimes flying
as far as the neighbors which had rendered them such
valiant assistance in the spring.

Toward fall the weather became dry and the only con-
venient watering place was the brook near our grapevine
playhouse. There these birds came several times every
day for a drink or a bath. A thirsty martin would circle
back and forth near the surface of the water, every few
moments dipping her open bill into the water and scooping
up a mouthful. In bathing, they fly close to the surface
of the water and then dive, and, coming up again, con-
tinue their flight almost without checking speed. Round
and round they circle, dipping and splashing for an hour
at a time, probably getting the water to the skin in places ;.
but I have never seen them become thoroughly soaked, as.
most birds do while bathing.

When the last of August came and frost might be ex-
pected soon, they changed their habits. They would sit
for hours on the comb of the house or the limbs of an old
dead tree, chattering and preening their feathers. Un-
doubtedly birds find it necessary to have their bodies in
good condition before they start southward. At any rate,,
every feather was oiled and preened a hundred times dur-
ing the ten days' gathering preceding their departure. Al-
most every evening the birds would fly to the similar
council that was being held in the neighbor's orchard a
half mile away, tho they never remained long at a time.
Two or three days before leaving they began to act

FLYGOOD AND FLEETWING 273

strangely. All would be sitting in the gathering chirping
and preening their feathers when suddenly one would utter
a peculiar twitter and instantly every bird would leave
its perch and start rapidly southward; but after flying a
hundred or two yards one always heard the rallying chatter
and all returned to the gathering place again.

It would be interesting indeed to know all that went on
in those days preceding the journey south. Some people
believe the parents were instructing their young in the
maneuver of starting together and keeping together in the
long flight.

At that time they never went near the martin house
except to sleep. Undoubtedly there was more or less ver-
min there and these wise birds meant to get their bodies
entirely clean from troublesome pests before going to the
warm tropical regions where the vermin would cause an-
noyance all winter through. Half or three quarters of
an hour before sundown these birds would leave their
perch and begin circling round the old nest every few mo-
ments, twittering as they went, then circle back over the
orchard or meadow for more insects. Shortly after sun-
down these circles would grow smaller and finally some
bird would enter the house. The next time they came by
perhaps another would do the same. Then within a few
moments every bird would dart inside and things would
become quiet for the night.

Early one morning this flock of birds was holding its
gathering in an old apple tree in our orchard perhaps a
hundred yards from the nest. Suddenly the parent birds
gave the signal which to my ears sounded exactly like the
signal they had been giving a score of times each day for
a week, and the whole flock started toward the south ; but
this time they did not return. They had not gone very

274 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

far before I was convinced that they had really started
southwards, for I did not hear the return, signal and not
one bird showed the least disposition to circle or look
back. Gazing after them, I saw them meet the much
larger flock from Lemley's and all passed out of sight
over the southern horizon.

These birds sometimes gather in large flocks for the
journey. Often all the purple martins within miles meet
at a common point, and together take their flight. The
departure is always in the morning and, as far as my
observation goes, before ten o'clock.

Some naturalists claim that a few sentinels return to
the northland as early as the middle of March to spy out
the land and see if the old nesting places are in order. In
the southern part of the United States they are sometimes
seen in flocks of tens of thousands on the northward jour-
ney. At that time they move leisurely; but when spring
really comes in the north they usually appear at practically
the same time over a considerable area of territory and
begin nest building at once.

If there are martins in your vicinity and you will con-
struct a proper house and mount it on a pole the day the
martins return to your neighborhood, you will very likely
find it inhabited within three or four days. Should you
put it up earlier than this, bluebirds are likely to take
possession of it before the martins come; once they are
in possession, the martins are not very likely to drive them
away. No bird is of more value to us human folks than
martins, not only because they drive away crows and
hawks, but because they feed largely on flies, ants, and
other injurious insects.

Watch for the martins and learn to recognize them.

XLI

THE CEDAR WAXWING

ONE day early in spring my sister and I were in the
woods hunting for the first bloodroot and anemone
blossoms when we heard a ^^twee twee^' among the bushes.
Looking around we saw a flock of a dozen or more beauti-
ful little birds feeding on buck-brush berries.

I had never known anything to eat these berries and
of course was surprized to see these birds feeding as
merrily as if at the banquet of a king. There is one
thing I admire about birds. Tho a certain article of food
may not be to their liking, if circumstances force them to
eat it they feed as cheerily as if eating the fat of the land.

The thing that impressed me about these birds was the
beautiful crest or topknot, as we call it. The head, neck,
and breast were a beautiful brown color, and when they
raised their crest it reflected a beautiful purplish sheen.
The body was olive-gray shading to ash color on the rump
and to yellow underneath, the tail coverts shading to a
blackish color in the tail itself, which was tipped with
yellow. The wings, especially when spread for flight,
showed sealing-wax red tips to the feathers.

They did not swallow the berries whole, as I had ex-
pected, but cracked the seed with their strong beaks and
ate only the kernels. These were so small that it was no

275

276 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

wonder they had to keep busy in order to secure a good
meal. Occasionally one would find a grub or an insect
which he ate greedily.

Fortunately my sister knew these birds. They were
cedar waxwings. She said that they feed on cedar berries,
especially in the winter. I have seen them doing this
many a time since.

As we watched these birds, a swarm of mosquitoes came
dancing through the air and immediately these birds be-
gan catching them. Flying back and forth through the
swarm they followed it until it passed into the bushes
where the members of the swarm could not be easily caught.
I came to know these birds well in later days, and there is
no bird with which I am acquainted that is more active
in catching flies, gnats, and other flying insects than the
cedar waxwing.

When the crane flies emerge from the meadows in the
springtime, these waxwings catch them by the hundreds.
In his notes on birds of Minnesota Dr. Hatch quotes a Mr.
Washburn as stating that one day in August in the Red
River YaUey of Minnesota he watched a half dozen cedar
waxwings hovering over a slough and catching insects.
He states that these birds were on the wing constantly
for almost half an hour passing back and forth among
the insects which they caught steadily. He says that not
once during aU this time did one of these birds alight and
for the most part they were so busy that they did not even
take time to utter their characteristic notes.

When our cherries were ripe I saw my first dead wax-
wing. We had a number of cherry trees and ordinarily
allowed the birds to eat all they wished without let or hin-
drance. That spring father and mother gave consent for

THE CEDAR WAXWING 277

my older brother to shoot certain birds that were eating
cherries, and having a new twenty-two caliber rifle he was
not slow in acting on the permission. Robins, red-headed
woodpeckers, cedar waxwings, and blue jays were the worst
offenders, but robins were not to be killed. The slaughter
continued for only one forenoon, however, and perhaps
no more than fifteen or twenty birds were killed. Then
my brother himself decided that it was cruel to kill birds
simply because they liked cherries, but he did not come to
this decision till four or five cedar warwings had been
killed.

This bird measures seven and a quarter inches from the
end of its bill to the end of its tail, and as the tail is con-
siderably less than three inches long the body is of fair
size, not quite so large as the butcher bird's, but yet quite
plump. Many farmers slaughter these birds without mercy
because of their love for cherries. Few seem to know that
they have any good ^alities to offset this weakness. If
they were to become better acquainted with them, how-
ever, they would find them among our best insect-eating
birds. True they eat berries of various kinds, but most of
the berries are wild. They eat a great many seeds, but
not grain, and the few cherries they devour are paid for
many times over by destroying insects.

I presume the thing that most prejudices people against
these birds is their gluttony. They will eat any berry, fairly
gorging themselves on fruits that no other bird eats, often
continuing until they can not fly. They seem greatly to
enjoy their food, erecting their topknots and moving their
wings as they eat, and in every way showing keenest en-
joment. The are persistent when feeding, so much so
that it is often difficult to drive them out of a cherry tree.

278 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

Ordinarily they are cautious. They fly in droves, often
circling several times to make sure all is safe before alight-
ing; but when once they are convinced all is well, they
pour down all in a heap. Then they scatter and begin
feeding.

They nest on a low horizontal limb, preferring an apple
tree. They build the nest largely of coarse grass, lining
it with finer grass and tie it to the limb securely. They
lay four purplish white eggs speckled with black, more so
at the larger end.

\Yhen the nest is disturbed they are seldom seen, as they
quietly slip away at the first approach of danger and re-
main away till the danger is past.

XLII

THE BUTCHER BIRD

A LITTLE less than a quarter of a mile from the old
farm house on the east edge of our farm stood one of
the first three orchards set out in that part of Iowa. Most
of the trees had originally been seedlings, but father, with
the skill of most pioneers, had top-grafted them and many
of them were as large as forest trees and bore apples as
good as could be found anywhere. The field where the
orchard grew was usually planted to com, even the or-
chard being cultivated as tho no apples were there. This
field had an osage orange hedge on all sides, but on the
north there were occasional holes where the cattle were
wont to break through. To prevent this two or three
strands of barbed wire had been stretched through the
hedge.

In apple time sister and I were often given two sacks
and sent to this orchard for a load of apples. This was
always a delight, for there was never any hurry, there
was always an abundance of delicious apples to be eaten,
and when one no longer had room to eat there was plenty
of time to fill the sacks. In the hedge fence near the old
Shaker Yellow apple tree was a bird^s nest of a variety
whose name we did not know. The nest's owner was some-
what larger than both the phoebe bird that nested un-

279

280 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

der the cattle shed and the catbird that nested in the pip-
pin tree, but it did not much resemble either. It was a
beautiful bluish gray with black wings and tail, and
always looked so fresh and clean that we were fond of it.
The nest was placed so low that by standing, on an old
barrel we could see the eggs and watch the young birds.
These birds were not shy, and were always on the watch
about their nest, tho they did not make any such outcry
when we came near as did mother catbird.

They nested there year after year, seldom locating the
new nest more than fifteen or twenty feet from the old
one. They and their nest form one of my earliest recol-
lections, and when I left home at sixteen to enter college
they were still nesting in the old place, so of course I
knew them pretty well. With a cornfield on one side, a
pasture on the other, and a neighbor's oat field within a
himdred yards, food was always abundant. True, these
crops sometimes alternated, but they were always there.
Those birds fed on grasshoppers and beetles, with an oc-
casional mouse for dessert, so they could have had no
better hunting ground.

I had known these birds for a number of years when
one spring I began to find grasshoppers and beetles im-
paled on hedge thorns or on barbs on the wire near the
nest. These insects were stuck so that they could not
wriggle loose, and yet were not hurt seriously enough to
die for some time. Once or twice I found a mouse secure-
ly stuck on a barb by the skin of his back, wiggling and
twisting in a vain attempt to get free. This appeared to
me cruel and horrible, but I had no idea who was doing it.
I knew that small boys had been coming to the orchard for
apples, and I thought they were amusing themselves In

THE MIGRANT SHRIKE

THE BUTCHER BIRD 281

this way. "We did not care about the apples as there
were plenty of them, but I did care about this cruelty. I
made it my business to release every poor creature I found
impaled in this way, and either to turn it loose or, if it
appeared too badly hurt, to end its suffering by killing it.
I became so indignant that I finally appointed myself a
committee of one to discover the culprits, and ore day dis-
covered them. To my utter surprize these birds were
guilty. The situation was this : it had been a cold spring,
and grasshoppers and other food were scarce. Ordinarily
these birds could catch an abundance of food whenever
they desired, but this year it was different. It often took
a long time to find food, but early in the morning when
the grasshoppers were cold and stiff they could be caught
easily. These birds would not eat decayed or tainted meat
of any kind if they could help it, and they did not know
how to build coops or pens. Clearly this was the only
way they knew to keep a supply of live, fresh meat always
on hand. As the summer wore on the insects became
abundant, I found no more poor creatures stuck on the
thorns and barbed wire.

When I made these discoveries, I renewed my efforts
to find out what birds these were. Finally some one in
the neighborhood said they were called "butcher birds"
because of the cruel way they had of sticking mice, small
birds, etc., on thorns merely for the fun of watching them
die. Since then, I have learned that this bird's true name
is the migrant shrike; and that there is a large family
of shrikes all looking much alike and having practically
the same habits. In regions where this bird is abundant,
it is common to find small creatures impaled on thorns and
barbed wire. I am aware that many who are very familiar

^82 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

with the shrike's habit claim that they impale these poor
insects for the fun of killing, and that they never return
to them afterwards. This may be true, but it certainly
was not true of my birds. I have many time seen them
return and eat insects they had impaled, and have even
seen them feed these to their young.

My friend. Professor A. C. Holt, dean of Tusculum
College, tells me tliat when he was a boy he knew these
shrikes very well, and that he never knew them to impale
creatures for amusement merely. This corresponds to my
own experience, for I had known these birds for several
years, seeing them practically every day and spending
hours in the vicinity of their nests, before I discovered any
such habit. Cruel, you will say ! Yes, but no more cruel
than for fisherman to string their fish on a line or a
string of bark passed through the gills and to leave them
for hours or even days in the water, where every breath is
torture while they also suffer for lack of food. Nor is it
more cruel than the way we handle chickens in our mar-
kets.

The shrike is accused of robbing other birds' nests, and
I presume in an emergency he does so; but I have seen as
many as three or four sparrows' and other small birds'
nests within a hundred feet of my shrike's nest and none
of them were ever disturbed; moreover the mother birds
showed no alarm when the shrike happened to alight near
their nests. I am convinced that shrikes feed entirely on
live insects and mice when they can get them. If the
food supply runs short, they store a supply when they
make a lucky find. If food should become even more
scarce and a bird's nest happened to be near, I do not doubt
that they would eat the young birds. Doubtless for this

THE BUTCHER BIRD 28S

reason they deserve the widely spread common name of
^^utcher birds," but nevertheless they are a benefit to the
farmer. Nesting as they do in well protected places near
the fields they devour a large number of field mice, and
surely this is good service.

XLIII

THE EED-EYED YIEEO

THE first thing I usually hear of a summer's morning
(if I waken at the time I usually do, just as the first
streak of dawn appears in the east) is the song of the
red-eyed vireo, tho at home^ where we had plenty of robins,
they used to begin singing as early as the vireos. In fact,
it was a race between these two birds to see which would
get up first, sing his morning hymn, and catch the early
worm.

From the fact that the vireo is one of the first birds to
sing in the morning, it becomes fairly easy for one who is
willing to get up early to identify him. He proclaims
his name as plainly as a bird can do. His melody is
scarcely worthy of the name song, nevertheless it is a
pleasing and cheerful role and seems to express entire
satisfaction on the part of the bird himself. It is a "vireo-
vireo-viriee-vir-'a-\iree,'^ uttered energetically but with a
tendency to drawl the words a bit.

As the day advances, by nine-o'clock the robin is usu-
ally through singing and does not resume till evening.
Not so with the red-eyed vireo. He sings all day long.
But tho he sings almost constantly, he is usually heard
rather than seen. His small size and dull color help to
conceal him and he generally manages to keep himself

284

THE RED-EYED VIREO 285

hidden in the trees and brush. He not only prefers to
live in trees, but chooses the tall leafy ones where he
flits abont among the topmost branches.

He feeds largely on the caterpillars, flies, and other in-
sects in the tree tops, hence has small need of coming to
the ground. If you watch a vireo carefully, you will
see him moving back and forth on a limb, reaching for
Insects first on one side and then on the other, stretching
his neck and legs until you would almost think they are
made of rubber. He hunts over the limbs from morning
till night, stopping every few moments to sing his thank-
fulness for his delightful home. He is such a lover of the
trees that he sometimes even drinks the dew and raindrops
that cling to the leaves and branches.

I have f oun^ the red-eyed vireo's nest in a clump of small
bushes within two feet of the ground, tho more often they
build in trees some ten or fifteen feet high. The nest is
rather characteristic, being a half hanging nest. Where
it can be obtained, the mother bird peels o5 the tough in-
ner bark of the red ehn or of the willow, sometimes using
the tough fibers of the previous yearns ^^cotton weeds,''
and weaves the body of the nest from this tough fiber. As
soon as this is woven so that she is assured of plenty of
strength, she mixes in other materials, such as soft grass
and fuzz from various seeds. Bits of hornets' nests or
pieces of paper are often used not only to make the nest
soft and cozy but because the dull colors are effective in
helping to conceal it.

The eggs are glossy white but are slightly speckled
at the large end with reddish brown or chocolate. Four is
the most common number, altho it is not unusual for the
bird to lay only three. When the young are able to leave

286 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

the nest they follow their parents, all hunting together for
a long time. The vireo nsually rears but one brood in a
season, feeding the young birds for some time after they
leave the nest.

We have many kinds of vireos in America, but the red-
eyed is the most widely distributed. They are all small
birds, the red-eyed being about six and a quarter inches long
from the end of the bill to the tip of the tail, two inches of
this being taken up by the tail. The bill is pointed, and the
entire bird is a trim, slender little creature. The back,
rump, edges of the wings, and tail feathers are of bright
olive green, rather more olive than green. The sides of
the head and the neck are paler. The top of the head is a
dark ashy color sharply edged by a dark line. A white
line just below this dark line runs from the bill across
over the eye nearly to the back of the head. The bird is
white beneath and often shows pale sulphur yellow under
the tail. All of the vireos are delightful birds, and are es-
pecially valuable in that they feed almost wholly on cater-
pillars and insects with a few weed seeds.

From the key you can learn the family characteristics,
and you ought to be able to find three or four kinds of
vireos in your vicinity. The red-eyed vireo, of course, has
a red eye, which is one means of distinguishing it from its
fellows.

xLiy

THE YELLOW WARBLER

AMONG our small birds, of which we have such great
numbers, there is none more commonly known and
more widely distributed than the yellow warbler or, as it
used to be known when I was a child, the summer warbler.
It comes flocking North in the early part of April and
stays with us till late fall. It is one of the birds that seem
to come all at once. We children used to watch eagerly
for the first bluebird or robin, and then expect it to be
several days before we would see another, and usually two
or even three weeks would pass before they became com-
mon. This was not true of the yellow warblers. When
you saw one you could expect to see others right along,
and they were among the most numerous of our small birds.
There is a large family of the warblers, and it may be
rather difficult for the beginner to learn to recognize them.
In the key you will find the characteristics of the family
and by becoming acquainted with two or three warblers,
it will be easier to recognize the others. We have chosen to
tell the story of the yellow warbler not only because it is
plentiful over more of our country than any other but be-
cause it is one of the easiest to recognize. It arrives in the
spring ahead of most of the small birds, and this makes it
still easier to recognize.

287

288 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

There are several peculiarities by which this bird can
be identified if yon can get near enough to see it well. Its
bill is lead-colored, while its head and under parts are yel-
low — not a dull but a really bright yellow. The back and
the rest of the upper parts are a dull yellowish green,
brightest on the rump. In some birds the back is more
olive than yellow. Sometimes there are streaks of dusky
reddish brown on the back, while the breast and the sides
of the body are always streaked with brownish red. The
tail feathers are dusky, except part of the web, which is
yellow. The wing feathers are dusky, edged with yellow-
ish green, while there are two narrow bands of yellow on
the wing.

They mostly frequent the thickets and edges of woods,
but can be seen almost everywhere. While they have a
charming little song, they are by no means great song-
sters and perhaps would never be noticed for their song
alone. In fact, after the other birds have come North
and the woods are one grand chorus of music, a person
hardly notices the song of the yellow warbler.

This bird must not be mistaken for the goldfinch, which
belongs to an entirely different family. The male gold-
finch is yellow excepting the top of the head, tail, and
wings, which are black, while the general appearance of
the yellow warbler is that of a truly yellow bird. He is
also much more slender than the goldfinch.

What this bird lacks in song he makes up in mechanical
skill. Sometime between the first of April and the middle
of May he constructs one of the best-made nests of any of
our birds, without doubt the very best of any of our war-
blers. It is almost always placed in the forks of a bush,
the site being selected so that it can be fastened to several

THE YELLOW WARBLER 289

small branches. Where everything is as it should be, the
nest is built three to five feet above the ground. Weeds
form the framework, and any other good nesting material
that can be easily found constitutes the filling. Bits of
wool, dead wood, horsehairs, cow hairs, feathers — any
such material is carefully woven to the sticks with the long
tough fiber peeled from the wild grapevine, or if the grape-
vine cannot be found, with fine roots or tough dry grass.
The nest is much larger than would be expected of so
small a bird, because he takes the trouble to make the
walls very thick. Building as he does just at the time
that the cotton is flying from the willows and the cotton-
woods, a great deal of this silky down is woven into the
lining. Early thistledown is occasionally gathered and
used. When the nest is finished it is as cozy inside as a
carpeted parlor, and the builder might well be proud of
his job.

The eggs are greenish white, heavily spotted with brown
and lilac, the spots sometimes running together into
splotches. The cowbird seems to take especial delight in
laying her eggs in the nest of the yellow warbler, doubtless
in part because it is so well built. This bird often selects
the nest of some small birds so that her young will be more
lusty than its fellows.

The yellow warbler may raise two broods or may be con-
tent with only one, according to the part of the country in
which it lives. Those that go farthest North probably
raise only one brood. Like most of the warblers, its food
consists largely of insects and weed seeds, and so this bird
is truly a friend of man.

XLY

THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT

IN the story of the crow I told you about the clump of
blackberry bushes, giant ferns, etc., that grew hard by
the crabapple thicket and that tradition said was a snake's
den. No one tramped through this thicket and so it had
grown so thick with blackberry briers and gooseberry
bushes that it would have been difficult to crowd through
it. But in spite of supposed snakes and thick brush few
things went on in this thicket without our knowledge. As
you remember we children played on all sides of this
thicket, because it was only a few steps from our favorite
playhouse, the wild grape arbor.

One day early in May sister and I were playing in the
grape arbor when we noticed a pair of birds that were
different from any with which we were familiar. They
were fair sized birds, about seven and a half inches long,
of uniform olive green color above while the breast and
under coverts of the wings were bright yellow, and the
belly white.

These birds stayed pretty close in this thicket, the they
did not hesitate to enter the crabapple thicket or the
gooseberry bushes near by. They did not go into the open
woods, however, seeming to feel safer in the thick brush.
The male evidently had not finished courting his wife,

290

THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT 29X

for as we watched them he went through the queerest
courtship we had ever seen. He would sing and parade
before his lady love, evidently doing his very best to
please her, yet his every act, even his voice, gave the im-
pression that he was scolding her with all his might. He
gesticulated with every note, sometimes jumping into the
air and alighting again, now hanging to a twig with hia
head down, now performing some other maneuver, but al-
ways moving his body with every note uttered. He seemed
to be in a perfect delirium of song, but his antics ap-
peared anything but graceful to us. Every few minutes he
hopped into the air, sometimes to an altitude of eight or
ten feet above the female, his feet and legs dangling at full
length and his tail jerked up and down "until we had to
laugh at his awkward appearance.

Evidently the lady of his choice failed to see anything
ludicrous in this performance, for the very next day they
began building a nest. This nest was placed not more
than two feet from the ground, in a wild gooseberry bush
toward one edge of the thicket. It was perhaps six or
seven inches in diameter, built mostly of dry leaves and
sticks, bound together with strips of bark taken from our
vrild grapevine and grass collected from under the hedge
near by. It was firmly placed, however, and was neatly
lined with horsehairs and a few small willow roots.

The nest done, the male bird again took up his song and
continued to sing from time to time for a number of days.
His song sounded as peculiar as his antics looked. Perhaps
it can be best described in the words of Audubon, that
matchless student of birds. He says of its song, "Some-
times the sounds are scarcely louder than whispers, now
gain strength, deep gutteral notes roll in slow succession

292 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

as if produced by the emotion of surprize then others clear
and sprightly glide after each other, until suddenly, as if
the bird had become confused, the voice becomes a hollow
bass/' I can compare it to nothing so well as to the
Toice of a boy who is just changing from childhood to
manhood.

In a few days the eggs were laid, five of them, of a
flesh color spotted with a reddish brown. When four eggs
had been laid we happened to notice these birds making
a terrific fuss about the nest. We knew that something
was wrong, so ran over to find what it was.

A large blue racer snake had crept into the gooseberry
bush and was just ready to help himself to the eggs. The
distressed birds were fluttering about, striking at him and
using every means within their powers to prevent his
etealing their precious eggs. Now we were sure this
thicket was a snake's den, but for all that we mustered
up enough courage to get a long stick and chase this snake
out of the bush. We were afraid he might return and rob
the nest, later, but either snakes do not remember as well
as do crows and many other wildlings, or else we gave him
a thorough scare, for the next day when we examined the
nest instead of all of the eggs being gone there were five
instead of four. The mother bird began sitting at once and
in twelve days there were baby birds in the nest. Two
broods were raised that summer.

While I did not have the opportunity of becoming ac-
quainted with very many yellow-breasted chats when I was
a boy, I have found them frequently since and they almost
always Hve in low brush and tall weeds. The thicker the
brush and the more difiicult for a human to get through the
better they are pleased. Nesting as they do in places that

YELLUW'BREASTED CHATS

THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT 293

are frequented by snakes, and placing their nests so near
the ground, it is no uncommon thing for snakes to eat
either the eggs or the young birds. The parents are fear-
less, however, and doubtless sometimes succeed in driving
the snake away.

If a dog passes through their thicket they do not hesi-
tate to follow him, scolding and manifesting their dis-
tress in every possible way, and I have even seen them
pounce on the dog's back and peck and pound him with
their wings.

These birds feed largely on beetles, caterpillars, and
other insects, tho they are fond of wild fruit, especially
strawberries. Wild strawberries are apt to grow in brush
such as they inhabit, and from their great fondness for
this fruit I have sometimes thought this might be a de-
ciding factor in selecting their home. I have never seen
them do damage in orchards, however, so no one should be-
grudge them the wild berries they eat.

They are found over the greater part of our country, tho
one must go into the sort of places they inhabit in order
to find them.

XL VI

THE MOCKING BIRD

AS I write I am usually entertained all day long by
a mocking bird in a tree near my window. If I feel
blue or disgruntled in any way, all I have to do is to
listen to this bird for a few moments, and the gloom dis-
appears and the world looks bright again. Unfortunately
some of my readers have never seen this most remarkable
of songsters, but wherever it is known it has always been
greatly loved.

There is a legend that once upon a time the birds were
discussing which was the best singer. The argument waxed
loud and long until at last the wise old owl suggested that
they have a contest. Each bird was to sing his sweetest
song and then all should vote as to which was the master
musician. Through all this discussion the mocking bird
remained silent, but no one seemed to notice this until the
contest began. The lark, the robin, and the nightingale,
the whippoorwill, the blue jay, and the wren — in fact, all
the birds — in turn sang their loudest and best till all were
done. Then some one discovered that the mocking bird
had taken no part at all. One after another demanded the
reason, and finally were met with the reply that he had no
song. At last, after much urging, he came forward,
chirped a bit, and then sang the song of one bird after

294

THE MOCKING BIRD 295

another until he had sung the songs of all. "When the vote
was taken he was chosen by common acclaim the greatest
singer of them all, for all acknowledged that not only
could he sing as well as others but could sing their own
eongs better than they themselves could sing them.

This legend isn't so far from the truth, for while the
mocking bird really has no fine song of his own, he is the
greatest mimic in the world.

For a number of years a mocking bird nested within a
few yards of my window. We became well acquainted, and
a wag he proved himself to be. In the springtime, when
the mother is breeding, the mocking bird seems too happy
to think of anything but song. All day long he sits on
some limb and sings his heart out. Thus far he is not
much different from other birds, but when the sun goes
down and most of the others creep off to sleep, the mocking
bird seems to feel that it is his duty to make up the de-
ficiency by singing all the longer and louder. Any time
that I waken during the months of April, May, and early
June I can hear my mocking bird singing, and it is in the
night that he manifests his roguish spirit most clearly.

I used to raise Chinese geese, and in the springtime
usually had a few valuable goslings about the house which
I always shut up carefully at night lest disaster overtake
them. I never knew how friend mocking bird learned of
the great interest I took in these goslings, but certain it
is that before they were a week old, about the time I
would fall into the soundest sleep I was sure to be awak-
ened by the voice of little goslings. I would listen a while
doubting my ears and trying to distinguish some false
note, but usually ended by going out to catch my stray
goslings. Sure enough the noise would be coming from

296 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

the grass and I would follow it a few steps and then stop
to listen. The sound always seemed only a few feet away,
but strange to say every time I thought I was getting near,
it would come from some place a little way beyond. After
the bird had led me about from place to place for five or ten
minutes, the last ^^peep" was pretty sure to come from a
tree straight overhead and would be followed by the cackle
of a guinea or the bark of a dog, and I would remark to
myself, "stung again!" Nevertheless the next night my
anxiety usually got the better of my judgment, and I would
feel sure that that time a gosling had actually gotten
out.

A little later in the season there was a brood of baby
bronze turkeys about the house for a few days, and we
had our performance over again practically every night,
except that Sir Mocking Bird chose to imitate a baby
turkey rather than a gosling that had now grown too large
to need care.

A little later I bought an Angora cat which raised me
a few broods of kittens. Now my mocker was in the height
of his glory, seeming to realize that the safety of a
kitten meant a great deal more than that of a gosling or a
turkey, and I think he must have had the time of his life
worrying me night after night every" time there was a litter
of kittens on the back porch. You may say that I should
have learned that the mocking bird was deceiving me. I
felt so too, sometimes, but just so surely as I came to this
conclusion I would find that some imp had put it into
the head of some of my pets actually to get out and lose
themselves and when I did not go to the rescue some real
disaster was quite sure to happen.

A little later, when the neighbor's guineas became noisy.

THE MOCKING BIRD 297

my mocking bird took up their song for a time, singing
"potrack" as well as any guinea could.

When the robins are flying northward in great numbers
and sing in every tree, my mocking bird seemingly believes
himseK to be a robin, but within a week or two he forgets
aU about this and takes up the song of some other bird.
Just now some of the boys have made a peculiar whistle
which they are enjoying, and only a day or two ago some
one called my attention to the fact that my mocking bird
v^'as imitating this whistle. A few summers ago I arranged
for some one to give a certain signal on a police whistle if
my number was called, so that no matter where I happened
to be I could come to the telephone. It didn't take my
mocking bird long to adopt this whistle, and many times
he has called me to the phone only to learn that the girl
had not whistled for me. I always fancied that he looked
at me with a sly wink of amusement every time he saw
me come in answer to one of his calls.

The mocking bird is much like the blue jay in size and
build, the chief difference being that the mocker is more
slender and altogether a lighter bird. He frequents hedges
and brushy fence rows, much as does the jay ; and, strange
as it may seem, I have known people to confuse the two. He
feeds on seeds, berries, fruits^ and insects when he can get
them, seeming to prefer grasshoppers and crickets, though
he eats many caterpillars and even cotton boll weevils and
other beetles. He has been a hunter so long that he has
learned the way of the wild folk. Mcny an hour I have
watched him in my front yard during the hot summer.
He runs across the lawn for perhaps eight or ten feet, then
suddenly stops and throws up his wings, sometimes re-
peating this action two or three times. There is a con-

298 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

spicuous white spot under each wing, and from observing
him I have concluded that this maneuver is an attempt to
frighten an insect into making a move. Many insects are
so colored that so long as they do not move, they are hard
for even a bird to see. But among insects there are a
great many foolish individuals which, even though they
may know the law of the woods, "When in doubt sit tight
and keep still,'' never seem to be able to remember it when
danger approaches. My mocker seldom has to throw up
his wings many times before some grasshopper is foolish
enough to move and then he is sure to disappear down the
mocking bird's throat or be carried away to feed the fledg-
lings.

The mocking bird does not confine his song to the
mating season. During the hot days of August, when he
is tired out from taking care of two or three broods of
yoimg, he is usually quiet, but no sooner has he molted
and the first cool days of fall have come than he again
begins his singing. His fall song is not so rollicking nor
so continuous as his spring song, and he seldom sings at
night in the fall; but for all that I think his fall song is
the sweeter.

The mocking bird migrates little if at all. In the winter
he feeds largely on weed seeds and wild berries, but does
not sing until the opening of spring. One has no trouble
in recognizing the mocking bird even though its most com-
mon song closely resembles that of the brown thrasher or
some of our other best song birds. The bird resembles the
thrushes closely in shape, except for its long tail, and it
is nearly their size, but none of the thrushes resemble it
closely in color. The catbird, the brown thresher, and the
yellow-billed cuckoo are all similar to the mocking bird

THE MOCKING BIRD 299

in shape, bnt there the resemblance ceases. The mocking
bird has one characteristic feature, that of jumping up and
down while singing, though he seldom does this except in
the mating season. At times he flies high in the air and
sings as he comes down, often einging until he reaches
the ground.

Mocking birds are not found to any great extent along
the Pacific coast north of central California, or, coming
further east, much north of the Missouri and Ohio rivers,
but they have been found occasionally as far north as New
England. In my childhood days I saw three or four in
southern Iowa.

Without doubt the mocking bird is one of our best
American songsters, and a great many bird lovers give him
first place among the wild birds of the world, preferring
him even to the nightingale.

XLVII

SALLY THE HOUSE WREN

IN England there is a little brown bird known as the
Jenny Wren, which has a "stickup" tail and carries
itself in a pert, attractive, and characteristic way. We
have a number of wrens in America, all of them about the
shape of the Jenny Wren, some of them larger and some
smaller, but none of them large birds. In most of our
States we may find the long-billed marsh wren among the
rushes bordering ponds, lakes and streams. This bird is
shy, and a person has to be keen to see it. It nests among
the reeds and feeds on insects and worms. Its color is cin-
namon brown with a whitish streak down the back. It is
recognized as a wren by its "stick-up" tail. The short-
billed marsh wren also lives in swamps, but it may be
easily identified by the lack of a long bill and by the upper
parts being streaked all over.

The most common wren found over the northern part
of the United States and the one most widely known is
the house wren. I suppose because our forefathers had
always known the Jenny Wren at home, and noted the
similarity of these tame little songsters to it, they called
them jenny wrens. Even now most people do not know
we have no jenny wrens. This bird is a delightful song-
ster and very tame. It almost always nests about our
houses, and if there is a knot hole in the weather-board-
ing it is quite sure to build in the house.

800

SALLY THE HOUSE WREN SOI

I tell the story of Sally the house wren, an old friend
of my boyhood days, because Sally was such a shrewd,
bright, pert little mother and was so typical of the family
that her story will give a good idea of wrens in general.

One day late in April I was visiting my old uncle,
David Halferty. I liked to visit there, for Uncle Dave was
a most interesting story-teller and Aunt Polly was a master
hand at fishing. I thought their house was the most beau-
tiful in all the world, and it was situated in the only
spruce grove I ever saw in my childhood days. The spruce
had been set out; but those who planted them had been
wise enough not to put them in straight rows, so no
one would have known that they had not come up them-
selves.

Another interesting thing to me was their well. Our
well at home was properly covered with a platform on
which was a pump, and when we wanted water we simply
pumped it. The same was true of all the neighbors' wells,
but Uncle Dave's well was different. It was some forty-
five feet deep, had a beautiful old well house over it, and
the water was drawn with a windlass and two buckets. One
of the first things that always happened when I reached
that place was that I suddenly became thirsty and ran
to the well for the novelty of pulling up a great brimming
pail of water and watching the other pail go down and
sink out of sight in the depths below. Another attraction
was that the only hammock I had ever seen was stretched
between two of these great spruce trees, and a boy was free
to play in it as much as he pleased.

I went over to Uncle Dave's early one morning in
spring. As usual. Uncle Dave took it upon himself to
entertain me until dinner by showing me about the placet

S02 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

and telling stories. Annt Polly and I were to go fish-
ing in the afternoon. We had chored about the barn and
were on our way back to the house when we were both
startled by the rollicking song of a wren, ^^ell," said
Uncle Dave, "I do beheve Sally is back ; let's go and see,"
and he led the way to the well. Uncle Dave leaned over the
well and called, "Sally, Sally.'' Quick as a wink the bird
darted to his side, scolding, twittering, and fussing with
all her might. He stood there and smiled until she became
quiet and then called "Sally," and the whole thing started
over again. It seemed that this Little songster knew her
name and resented it.

It had started in this way. Two years before, this wren
had decided to set up housekeeping in the roof of the
well house. Day after day she and her hard working hus-
band carried sticks by the hundred and piled them in the
corner of the well-house rafters, and evening after evening
Uncle Dave threw them away, for he was equally deter-
mined that she should not nest in the well house, lest the
sticks and feathers flutter down into the water. Some
whim caused him to begin calling her Sally, and scolding
her every time she came around the well. Persistent little
vixen that she was, in spite of his efforts she raised three
broods of young in the very spot where she placed her
first sticks. She became so furious at his throwing away
her sticks that he could not come near the well without her
flying into his face scolding and pecking like a little
demon, although she never bothered anyone else. This
pleased Uncle Dave so much that he finally surrendered
and allowed her to have her way. As the summer wore
away and her nest was not disturbed any more, her resent-
ment seemed to settle around the use of the name Sally,

SALLY THE HOUSE WREN 303

and nothing delighted Uncle Dave more than to call
^^Sally/' and have her fly around his head and scold.

Sally, like all of her tribe, was a tireless worker. When
nesting time came she seemed to carry sticks for the pure
pleasure of it. She would fill holes that would hold a
peck or more with sticks without paying the least attention
to the order in which they were placed, even though she
finally built her nest in a different place entirely. There
were many osage orange (bois d'arc) hedges in the coun-
try, and Sally gathered the thorny twigs that had been
trimmed from these hedges the previous year. These
sticks were never less than six inches long, and often she
would carry pieces eight or ten inches long. Her nest
was usually constructed almost entirely of these thorny
sticks and was eight or ten inches in diameter and four
or five inches deep. When this huge pile of sticks was
in shape she carried straws, dry grass, and hairs and built
rather a large nest of these inside of the stick nest. She
finished with a lining of feathers gathered from the poul-
try yard. The nest was so built that the sticks covered
the top as well as the bottom, leaving only a small hole for
entering.

Sally nested in this well house for seven years and there
Were few available spots in it where she had not piled
sticks some time or other, though in the end the old nest
was usually repaired and used again. I became so inter-
ested in her that I determined to have some wrens of my
own. So I found two or three bleaching horseheads which
I put in trees in various parts of the yard, and every year
a pair of wrens nested in each of these skulls. The hole
where the spinal cord had entered the head was used as an
entrance and the nest was built where the brain had been.

304> KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

An interesting thing about these nests was that the birds
would spend three or four days piling sticks here and
there until they became satisfied that they had done their
duty. Then they carried just enough hairs and feathers
into the skull to make a snug warm nest without attempt-
ing to take any sticks in at all. I never could imderstand
why they should carry to such places a lot of sticks which
they could never use.

Sally always looked upon the kitchen garden as her
special domain, and made it a business to attack on sight
any other bird that dared enter its sacred precincts. This
garden was a full hundred yards from her nest, but ex-
perience taught there might be luscious cabbage worms on
every head of cabbage or bunch of lettuce in that garden,
and from dark till daylight there were seldom fifteen min-
utes she was not to be seen searching those plants for
worms.

Sally usually laid seven eggs at a clutch, though one
time I found nine in a nest. As the eggs almost always
hatch, it is no wonder that Sally and her husband had to
visit the cabbage patch frequently. They became so tame
that they went about their household duties without pay-
ing the least attention even tho I was standing within
ten feet. The hammock was not twenty feet from the well
end it was interesting to lie there and count the worms car-
ried to the nest in an hour, and to learn what kinds they
were. Sally fed her young three or four different species
of ^^measuring worm,'' caterpillars, at least two varieties
of cut worms, an occasional grasshopper, and perhaps a
few other small insects, but her main reliance was on cab-
bage worms. Five times out of six she would bring a
green one to her young. A fair estimate of the number

SALLY THE HOUSE WREN 305

of worms carried to the nest, based on counts made a large
number of times, was a little more than one worm every
three minutes. Often they would average a worm a minute
for an hour or two. Usually the babies in the second brood
received more food than those in the first, not because the
old birds were more fond of them, but because food was
more abundant at that time. When we think of those
birds feeding their young ones worms every three minutes
for hours every day over a period of at least three weeks,
we can get some idea how beneficial they were to the gar-
den. This means that for every brood of baby wrens
raised near a garden thousands of worms are destroyed,
to say nothing of what the old birds themselves eat. We
never had to pay any attention to cabbage worms in our
garden, for I had places in the yard where at least five
pairs of wrens nested every season,

I have said little about Sally's husband, but he was an
important member of the family. He was a jovial, gallant
husband, proud of his family and jealous for their safety.
He did the singing, but he nevertheless did a fair share
of the work. When his mate began sitting he sang more
than ever. Perched on a branch near the nest he fairly
laid himself out to excel all other wrens in the vicinity.
Should another wren sing too well, he would attack him
at once and a battle royal was sure to follow. When he
had succeeded in chasing his fancied rival away, he came
back with a more exalting song than before ; but he never
became so busy with singing and fighting that he failed to
slip away every little while and catch a worm for his wife.

The wren does not usually come north until danger of
frost is past, but when he does come no bird is more full of
song. Some claim that the male comes first and begins

306 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

nest building within a few days. Others claim that they
come together. I have known wrens to begin building the
day they arrived.

When the brood leave the nest, they follow the parents
through the bushes and garden, seldom more than a few
feet behind. For once the father is silent, seeming to
realize that their safety depends on their moving unseen
until the young are better able to fly. It is interesting to
see how eager the young birds are to catch their first worm.
At first the parents catch the worms, and give them to the
youngster that is nearest. Within a day or two the parent
finds the worm, but leaves it for the youngster to catch.
Within a week or two the young birds have completed their
education and are left to shift for themselves. Then the
parents return to the nest to rear a new brood.

Sally's plucky temper, coupled with the inborn hatred
for the race of cats, finally brought about her undoing.
She felt it was her duty to chase all dogs and cats out of
the neighborhood of her nest. Usually wrens are content
with scolding and complaining whenever a dog or cat
comes near, but Sally came to the point where she did not
hesitate to fly straight into the face of a cat or dog, and
usually the astonished beast would run. One day she be-
came too bold and reckless. Her last brood had been fly-
ing only a day or two and were not very sure of their
wings. Doubtless she was unusually anxious to drive
away the old cat that came to sit on the front door step.
She chased it around the house, but that did not satisfy
her. Finally the outraged cat stopped, crouched, and as
Sallie swooped struck her with his paw and before any one
could interfere she was no more.

XLVIII

THE BROWN CREEPER

NOT many days after Creepy appeared on the willow
tree I was surprised to see a deep-brown bird scarcely
as large as he alight at the bottom of this tree and begin
hunting over its surface in much the same way my nut-
hatch had done, except that he started at the bottom and
rapidly ran up instead of going down headfirst. Of course
I was interested because these two birds were so strangely
alike and yet so absolutely different.

A pair of these brown creepers^ for such they were, took
up their abode in our yard and orchard, hunting over the
various trees but preferring the willow to any of the others,
though they hunted the pecan tree and the great trans-
cendent crabapple from bottom to top almost every day.
It has always seemed strange to me that these birds will
hunt the same tree over perhaps half a dozen times every
day for weeks and yet always find some food every few
moments.

Many insects lay their eggs in the rough bark of trees
and many little creatures hide there in the fall in order
to get some measure of protection during the winter. Of
course they are colored nearly like the bark, and un-
doubtedly are growing to look more like the bark every
generation, for only those that most closely resemble the

807

308 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

bark in which they hide escape the sharp eye of the birds,
and naturally their offspring resemble them. In this way
nature is always busy helping the creatures adapt them-
selves to the hard situation in which they find themselves.
The strange thing is that any of these insects escape. I
am sure my willow tree was hunted over regularly a dozen
times every day for months not only by the brown creepers
and the white-breasted nuthatch, but also by a dozen or
more black-capped chickadees and at least one pair of
downy woodpeckers, with a flicker and an occasional hairy
woodpecker for good measure.

The brown creeper appeared to be the most expert of
them all in creeping over trees and gathering insects. He
certainly moved much more rapidly over the tree. In
fact, he seemed fairly to run as he went about his work,
occasionally stopping long enough to give a happy little
chirp.

These birds were jolly little creatures, not in the least
selfish or ill natured; for should the chickadees or the
nuthatch appear on the tree when the creepers were there,
they made no protest whatever, but all worked together,
each willing to take what he could find, doubtless
feeling that the bounties of nature belong to aU alike, and
that the one who is the most industrious will win in the
end. As I stated in the last story, the nuthatch seldom
worked on anything but the trunk, leaving the limbs for
the chickadees ; but this was not true of the brown creeper.
He would often run along on the under side of limbs, look-
ing almost like a mouse running across the top of a beam,
so rapidly did he go, yet he always kept a sharp lookout for
anything to eat.

He seemed methodical in his work, usually going rouild

THE BROWN CREEPER SOD

and ronnd his tree, though sometimes he hunted in a
straight line up the trunk and then flew to the hottom
and started again at another place. He did not hop or
hobble about, as does the woodpecker; he was far too
nimble for that.

Many of my readers may find it difficult to locate this
bird or at least to examine him well, because he is shy.
It is not so much that he avoids our presence as that he
does not like to be seen. He may be hunting on a tree
within ten feet of you and yet you never suspect his pres-
ence, for he will be working on the opposite side of the
tree, stopping each time just before coming around far
enough to be seen.

As my bedroom window was only ten or fifteen feet from
the trunk of the willow, this was a good place from which
to watch this bird. He was dark brown above, showing
a slightly reddish shade, each feather being streaked cen-
trally with whitish, although this blended into the brown.
The rump was rufous and the under parts were almost pure
silky white, and there was a white streak over each eye and
a few whitish streaks about the ear coverts. The edges of
the tail feathers were wood-brown, and there was a pale
huffish white bar across each wing. He was about five
and a half inches long from the end of the long, sharp,
slender bill to the end of the tail. The bill was about as
long as the head.

From this description you should have no trouble in
locating this bird and identifying him. If you see one
alight on a tree and quickly creep around to the other side,
sit down by the nearest tree or stand perfectly quiet, and
it will not be long till, noticing everything is still, he
will come around to your side of the tree, and doubtless

310 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

will be so intent on his hunting that he will not notice
you.

In order to attract these birds^ it is well to fasten pieces
of suet or bits of fresh meat on the bark of tree trunks. It
wiU not be long until one or another of these little tree
hunters will find it, and if you continue to put it out they
wiU soon form the habit of coming for it every day.

This bird remained all winter with us in Southern Iowa,
though further north he migrates late in the fall. Of
course he is easiest to find in the winter when birds are
few and the leaves are off the trees. But if you are
sharp-eyed you will fiLnd him even in the summer in the
north.

Most of my readers are interested in birds' nests, and I
have described the nest of most of the birds whose stories
I have told because often the finding of the nest leads to
the identification of the owner. The brown creeper builds
in any available place like a split limb, a cleft in the
trunk of a tree, or in the opening beneath a piece of loose
bark. The five or six eggs are rather imique in that they
are a delicate rosy white marked with brown. He is to be
foimd at some time of the year almost aU over the United
States.

XLIX

CREEPY THE WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH

IT WAS a cold morning a few days after the events that
led to the feeding of my chickadees that I first met
Creepy. I was attracted by a cry of cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-
cha-ank. Looking up I saw a little ashy bine bird creep-
ing about on the old willow tree. He was not much larger
than a chickadee and the top of his head and his neck
were black, which alone might remind one of the chicka-
dee; but here the resemblance ceased. The under parts of
the head and the belly and breast were white. His bill
was sharp and unusually long for so small a bird. As I
stood watching him, he suddenly stopped in his course
down the tree raised his head sauCily and looked at me as
much as to say, '^ho are you? What have you to say
about it?''

Doubtless this bird had lived about our house all my
life, but for some reason he had never made any impression
on me. Possibly the fact that I had recently begun feed-
ing the chickadees had increased my interest in birds and
made me notice them where I might not have done so
before.

Sleet had fallen the night before and everything was
covered with ice except the under side of large limbs and
a narrow strip on one side of the large trees. This old
willow was a great favorite of mine. When father bought

811

312 KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

the claim and decided on the site of the house he stuck a
small yellow willow switch in the ground, remarking that
he would soon have shade over the kitchen door. Nothing
roots more easily than a yellow willow, and it was not sur-
prising that this twig should have taken root at once and
quickly grown into a nice little tree. By the time I was
old enough to take notice it was the largest tree in the
yard. Its long, drooping twigs furnished the switches
that stirred up my memory when I was inclined to depart
from the straight way, and its larger branches furnished
a proper support for my rope swing, while there were
always several birds' nests higher up. It was the first tree
to bloom in the spring and it filled the house with fra-
grance and furnished the golden pollen that stimulated the
bees to brood rearing. Its bark had grown furrowed and
rugged, and provided the best place imaginable for insects
to hide over winter.

This white-breasted nuthatch (for that is what he was)
evidently had come to this willow as a last resort in hopes
of finding some breakfast. When I first saw him he was
under a large limb just starting down the trunk of the
tree with his head downward. I was dumbfounded to see
a bird sit, apparently perfectly comfortable, on the side of
a tree with his head down and especially to hear him sing-
ing as if he enjoyed the situation. Tho on my way
for a load of wood, I stopped to watch the imique sight.
This bird was moving over the trunk of the tree prying
into every nook and crevice, picking up a morsel here and
another there, as busy as could be. He worked his way
down the tree until he reached the edge of the snow and
then with a "cha-cha" flew to join the chickadees in the
garden.

CREEPY, WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH 313

When I fed these birds I noticed he was still with them,
and I was not long in discovering that they were really
chums, that he and another of his kind were to be found
with this flock of chickadees almost any time in the day.
When their crumbs were scattered on the snow, Creepy
did not hesitate to feed with them, although at other timeS
lie seldom alighted on the ground. Chickadees hunt the
trees for insects and their eggs as carefully as do any of
the woodpeckers or nuthatches, but Creepy and these birds
hunted together in perfect harmony and never seemed to
infringe on each other's territory. The top of the tree and
the branches evidently belonged to the chickadees while
the trunk was the special property of the nuthatches.

Creepy invariably alighted on the tree pretty well np
and hunted downward, which means that his head was
down the greater part of the time. These birds are even
more expert at crawling about on the bark of a tree, taking
any sort of position imaginable, than are the woodpeckers.
Their toes are long and stout and are armed with power-
ful claws which enable them to hold firmly to the side of
any tree. I have seen one of these birds sitting on the side
of a tree with its head upward and then without letting
loose of the tree at all with one foot, turn completely
around imtil the head was downward, the foot still point-
ing upward. To me it is as marvelous to see one of these
birds turn almost completely around without changing a
foot as it is to see the owl turn his head more than half
way round to gaze at me.

These birds are found practically everywhere, though
they are never numerous. If you look sharply you will
have no trouble in locating them in the winter time when
the trees are bare and other birds are scarce. If they

S14s KNOWING BIRDS THROUGH STORIES

migrate at all it is only occasionally and for a short dis-
tance. They are smaller than any of the woodpeckers
and are not so brilliantly marked. The bill is more slen-
der, and you should have no trouble in identifying them
by this mark alone.

Creepy and his wife hunted through our orchard, gar-
den, and yard until spring, when they decided that the
old willow tree that had proved their salvation in the win-
ter was the most satisfactory place for their summer home.
They selected a limb perhaps four inches in diameter
about twenty-five feet from the ground and began the work
of pecking a hole in it. They worked with a will and
made the chips fairly fly for three or four days. They
were a happy little pair, both working with a will, con-
gratulating each other every few moments. These birds
seemed even more expert at chiseling out a nest hole than
the woodpecker ; but, unfortunately for me, they made their
hole so small that my hand would not go into it. A rye
straw pushed in, however, showed that it was at least
fourteen inches deep. I do not know how many eggs these
birds laid, but five to eight is the usual number, and they
are of a pearly white color, slightly marked with lilac or
msty yellow.

No bird could have been a better husband than Creepy.
He was a hard worker, doing fully as much of the nest
making as his wife, fluttering over and hopping about her
while she worked. When the hole was several inches deep
and his wife was taking her turn at drilling he would peep
in with the greatest concern if she stayed too long, and
when she was sitting he remain