CHAPTER XXXIIIBRINGING BACK THE VANISHED BIRDS AND GAME
CHAPTER XXXIII
BRINGING BACK THE VANISHED BIRDS AND GAME
The most charming trait of wild-life character is the alacrity and confidence with which wild birds and mammals respond to the friendly advances of human friends. Those who are not very familiar with the mental traits of our wild neighbors may at first find it difficult to comprehend the marvelous celerity with which both birds and mammals recognize friendly overtures from man, and respond to them.
At the present juncture, this state of the wild-animal mind becomes a factor of great importance in determining what we can do to prevent the extermination of species, and to promote the increase and return of wild life.
I think that there is not a single wild mammal or bird species now living that can not, or does not, quickly recognize protection,and take advantage of it. The most conspicuous of all familiar examples are the wild animals of the Yellowstone Park. They embrace the elk, mountain sheep, antelope, mule deer, the black bear and even the grizzly. No one can say precisely how long those several species were in ascertaining that it was safe to trust themselves within easy rifle-shot of man; but I think it was about five years. Birds recognize protection far more quickly than mammals. In a comparatively short time the naturally wild and wary big game of the Yellowstone Park became about as tame as range cattle. It was at least fifteen years ago that the mule deer began to frequent the parade ground at the Mammoth Hot Springs military post, and receive there their rations of hay.
Whenever you see a beautiful photograph of a large band of big-horn sheep or mule deer taken at short range amid Rocky Mountain scenery, you are safe in labeling it as having come from the Yellowstone Park. The prong-horned antelope herd is so tame that it is difficult to keep it out of the streets of Gardiner, on the Montana side of the line.
But the bears! Who has not heard the story of the bears of the Yellowstone Park,—how black bears and grizzlies stalk out of the woods, every day, to the garbage dumping-ground; how black bears actually have comeinto the hotelsfor food, without breaking the truce, and how the grizzlies boldly raid the grub-wagons and cook-tents of campers, taking just what they please, because theyknowthat no man dares to shoot them! Indeed, those raiding bears long ago became a public nuisance, and many of them have been caught in steel box-traps and shipped to zoological gardens, in order to get them out of the way. And yet, outside the Park boundaries, everywhere, the bears are as wary and wild as the wildest.
The arrogance of the bears that couldn't be shot once led to a droll and also exciting episode.
During the period when Mr. C.J. Jones ("Buffalo" Jones) was superintendent of the wild animals of the Park, the indignities inflicted upon tourist campers by certain grizzly bears quite abraded his nerves. He obtained from Major Pitcher authority to punish and reform a certain grizzly, and went about the matter in a thoroughly Buffalo-Jonesian manner. He procured a strong lariat and a bean-pole seven feet long and repaired to the camp that was troubled by too much grizzly.
The particular offender was a full-grown male grizzly who had become a notorious raider. At the psychological moment Jones lassoed him in short order, getting a firm hold on the bear's left hind leg. Quickly the end of the rope was thrown over a limb of the nearest tree, and in a trice Ephraim found himself swinging head downward between the heavens and the earth. And then his punishment began.
Buffalo Jones thrashed him soundly with the bean-pole! The outraged bear swung to and fro, whirled round and round, clawing and snapping at the empty air, roaring and bawling with rage, scourged in flesh and insulted in spirit. As he swung, the bean-pole searched out the different parts of his anatomy with a wonderful degree of neatness and precision. Between rage and indignation the grizzly nearly exploded. A moving-picture camera was there, and since that day that truly moving scene has amazed and thrilled countless thousands of people.
When it was over, Mr. Jones boldly turned the bear loose! Although its rage was as boundless as the glories of the Yellowstone Park, it paused not to rend any of those present, but headed for the tall timber, and with many an indignant "Woof! Woof!" it plunged in and disappeared. It was two or three years before that locality was again troubled by impudent grizzly bears.
And what is the mental attitude ofeveryRocky Mountain black or grizzly bearoutsideof the Yellowstone Park? It is colossal suspicion of man, perpetual fear, and a clean pair of heels the moment man-scent or man-sight proclaims the proximity of the Arch Enemy of Wild Creatures. And yet there are one or two men who tell the American public that wild animals do not think, that they do not reason, and are governed only by "instinct"!
"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing!"
"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing!"
Taming Wild Birds.—As incontestable proof of the receptive faculties of birds, I will cite the taming of wild birds in the open, by friendly advances. There are hundreds, aye, thousands, of men, women, boys and girls who could give interesting and valuable personal testimony on this point.
My friend J. Alden Loring (one of the naturalists of the Roosevelt African Expedition), is an ardent lover of wild birds and mammals. The taming of wild creatures in the open is one of his pastimes, and his results serve well to illustrate the marvelous readiness of our wildneighbors to become close friends with manwhen protected. I will quote from one of Mr. Loring's letters on this subject:
"Taming wild birds is a new field in nature study, and one never can tell what success he will have until he has experimented with different species. Some birds tame much more easily than others. On three or four occasions I have enticed a chickadeeto my handat the first attempt, while in other cases it has taken from fifteen minutes to a whole day.
"Chipping sparrows that frequent my doorway I have tamed in two days. A nuthatch required three hours before it would fly to my hand, although it took food from my stick the first time it was offered. When you find a bird on her nest, it is of course much easier to tame that individual than if you had to follow it about in the open, and wait for it to come within reach of a stick. By exercising extreme caution, and approaching inch by inch, I have climbed a tree to the nest of a yellow-throated vireo, and at the first attempt handed the bird a meal-worm with my fingers. At one time I had two house wrens, a yellow-throated vireo, a chipping sparrow and a flock of chickadees that would come to my hand."
SIX WILD CHIPMUNKS DINE WITH MR. LORING
It would be possible—and also delightful—to fill a volume with citations of evidence to illustrate the quick acceptance of man's protection by wild birds and mammals. Let me draw a few illustrations from my own wild neighbors.
On Lake Agassiz, in the N.Y. Zoological Park, within 500 feet of my office in the Administration Building, a pair of wild wood-ducks madetheir nest last spring, and have just finished rearing nine fine, healthy young birds. Whenever you see a wood-duck rise and fly in our Park, you may know that it is a wild bird. During the summer of 1912 a small flock of wild wood-ducks came every night to our Wild-Fowl Pond, and spent the night there.
A year ago, a covey of eleven quail appeared in the Park, and have persistently remained ever since. Last fall and winter they came at least twenty times to a spot within forty feet of the rear window of my office, in order to feed upon the wheat screenings that we placed there for them.
When we first occupied the Zoological Park grounds, in 1899, there was not one wild rabbit in the whole 264 acres. Presently the species appeared, and rabbits began to hop about confidently, all over the place. In 1906, we estimated that there were about eighty individuals. Then the marauding cats began to come in, and they killed off the rabbits until not one was to be seen. Thereupon, we addressed ourselves to those cats, in more serious earnest than ever before. Now the cats have disappeared; and one day last spring, as I left my office at six o'clock, everyone else having previously gone, I almost stepped upon two half-grown bunnies that had been visiting on the front door-mat.
When we were macadamizing the yards around the Elephant House, with a throng of workmen all about every day, a robin made its nest on the heavy channel-iron frame of one of the large elephant gates that swung to and fro nearly every day.
In 1900 we planted a young pine tree in front of our temporary office building, within six feet of a main walk; and at once a pair of robins nested in it and reared young there.
WILD CREATURES QUICKLY RESPOND TO FRIENDLY ADVANCES
Chickadee and Chipmunk Tamed by Mr. Loring
THE COLORADO OBJECT LESSON IN BRINGING BACK THE DUCKS
Up in Putnam County, where for five years deer have been protected, the exhibitions that are given each year of the supreme confidence of protected deer literally astonish the natives. They are almost unafraid of man and his vehicles, his cattle and his horses, but of course they are unwilling to be handled. Strangers are astonished; but people who know something about the mental attitude of wild animals under protection know that it is the natural and inevitable result ofreal protection.
At Mr. Frank Seaman's summer home in the Catskills, the phoebe birds nest on the beams under the roof of the porch. At my summer home in the Berkshires, no sooner was our garage completed than a phoebe built her nest on the edge of the lintel over the side door; and another built on a drain-pipe over the kitchen door.
Near Port Jervis, last year a wild ruffed grouse nested and reared a large brood in the garden of Mr. W.I. Mitchell, withintwo feetof the foundation of the house.
On the Bull River in the wilds of British Columbia two trappers of my acquaintance, Mack Norboe and Charlie Smith, once formed a friendship with a wild weasel. In a very few visits, the weasel found that it was among friends, and the trappers' log cabin became its home. I have a photograph of it, taken while it posed on the door-sill. The trappers said that often when returning at nightfall from their trap-lines, the weasel would meet them a hundred yards away on the trail, and follow them back to the cabin.
"Old Ben," the big sea-lion who often landed on the wharf at Avalon, Santa Catalina, to be fed on fish, was personally known to thousands of people.
An Object Lesson In Protection.—A remarkable object lesson in therecognition of protection by wild ducks came under my notice in the pages of "Recreation Magazine" in June, 1903, when that publication was edited by G.O. Shields. The article was entitled,—" A Haven of Refuge," and the place described well deserved the name. It is impossible for me to impress upon the readers of this volume with sufficient force and clearness the splendid success that is easily attainable in encouraging the return of the birds. The story of the Mosca "Haven of Refuge" was so well told by Mr. Charles C. Townsend in the publication referred to above, that I take pleasure in reproducing it entire.
One mile north of the little village of Mosca, Colorado, in San Luis valley, lives the family of J.C. Gray. On the Gray ranch there is an artesian well which empties into a small pond about 100 feet square. This pond is never entirely frozen over and the water emptying therein is warm even during the coldest winter.Some five years ago, Mr. Gray secured a few wild-duck eggs, and hatched them under a hen. The little ducks were reared and fed on the little pond. The following spring they left the place, to return in the fall, bringing with them broods of young; also bringing other ducks to the home where protection was afforded them, and plenty of good feed was provided. Each year since, the ducks have scattered in the spring to mate and rear their families, returning again with greatly increased numbers in the fall, and again bringing strangers to the haven of refuge.I drove out to the ranch November 24, 1902, and found the little pond almost black with the birds, and was fortunate enough to secure a picture of a part of the pond while the ducks were thickly gathered thereon. Ice had formed around the edges, and this ice was covered with ducks. The water was also alive with others, which paid not the least attention to the party of strangers on the shore.From Mr. Gray I learned that there were some 600 ducks of various kinds on the pond at that time, though it was then early for them to seek winter quarters. Later in the year, he assured me, there would be between 2,000 and 3,000 teal, mallards, canvas-backs, redheads and other varieties, all perfectly at home and fearless of danger. The family have habitually approached the pond from the house, which stands on the south side, and should any person appear on the north side of the pond the ducks immediately take fright and flight. Wheat was strewn on the ground and in the water, and the ducks waddled around us within a few inches of our feet to feed, paying not the least attention to us, or to the old house-dog which walked near.Six miles east of the ranch is San Luis lake, to which these ducks travel almost daily while the lake is open. When they are at the lake it is impossible to approach within gunshot of the then timid birds. Some unsympathetic boys and men have learned the habit of the birds, and place themselves in hiding along the course of flight to and from the lake. Many ducks are shot in this way, but woe to the person caught firing a gun on or near the home-pond. When away from home, the birds are as other wild-ducks and fail to recognize any members of the Gray family. While at home they follow the boys around the barn-yard, squawking for feed like so many tame ducks.This is the greatest sight I have ever witnessed, and one that I could not believe existed until I had seen it. Certainly it is worth travelling many miles to see, and no one, after seeing it, would care to shoot birds that, when kindly treated, make such charming pets.
One mile north of the little village of Mosca, Colorado, in San Luis valley, lives the family of J.C. Gray. On the Gray ranch there is an artesian well which empties into a small pond about 100 feet square. This pond is never entirely frozen over and the water emptying therein is warm even during the coldest winter.
Some five years ago, Mr. Gray secured a few wild-duck eggs, and hatched them under a hen. The little ducks were reared and fed on the little pond. The following spring they left the place, to return in the fall, bringing with them broods of young; also bringing other ducks to the home where protection was afforded them, and plenty of good feed was provided. Each year since, the ducks have scattered in the spring to mate and rear their families, returning again with greatly increased numbers in the fall, and again bringing strangers to the haven of refuge.
I drove out to the ranch November 24, 1902, and found the little pond almost black with the birds, and was fortunate enough to secure a picture of a part of the pond while the ducks were thickly gathered thereon. Ice had formed around the edges, and this ice was covered with ducks. The water was also alive with others, which paid not the least attention to the party of strangers on the shore.
From Mr. Gray I learned that there were some 600 ducks of various kinds on the pond at that time, though it was then early for them to seek winter quarters. Later in the year, he assured me, there would be between 2,000 and 3,000 teal, mallards, canvas-backs, redheads and other varieties, all perfectly at home and fearless of danger. The family have habitually approached the pond from the house, which stands on the south side, and should any person appear on the north side of the pond the ducks immediately take fright and flight. Wheat was strewn on the ground and in the water, and the ducks waddled around us within a few inches of our feet to feed, paying not the least attention to us, or to the old house-dog which walked near.
Six miles east of the ranch is San Luis lake, to which these ducks travel almost daily while the lake is open. When they are at the lake it is impossible to approach within gunshot of the then timid birds. Some unsympathetic boys and men have learned the habit of the birds, and place themselves in hiding along the course of flight to and from the lake. Many ducks are shot in this way, but woe to the person caught firing a gun on or near the home-pond. When away from home, the birds are as other wild-ducks and fail to recognize any members of the Gray family. While at home they follow the boys around the barn-yard, squawking for feed like so many tame ducks.
This is the greatest sight I have ever witnessed, and one that I could not believe existed until I had seen it. Certainly it is worth travelling many miles to see, and no one, after seeing it, would care to shoot birds that, when kindly treated, make such charming pets.
Since the above was published, the protected flocks of tame wild ducks have become one of the most interesting sights of Florida. At Palm Beach the tameness of the wild ducks when within their protected area, and their wildness outside of it, has been witnessed by thousands of visitors.
The Saving Of The Snowy Egret In The United States.—The time was whenvery many persons believed that the devastations of the plume-hunters of Florida and the Gulf Coast would be so long continued and so persistently followed up to the logical conclusion that both species of plume-furnishing egrets would disappear from the avifauna of the United States. This expectation gave rise to feelings of resentment, indignation and despair.
It happened, however, that almost at the last moment a solitary individual set on foot an enterprise calculated to preserve the snowy egret (which is the smaller of the two species involved), from final extermination. The splendid success that has attended the efforts of Mr. Edward A. McIlhenny, of Avery Island, Louisiana, is entitled not only to admiration and praise, but also to the higher tribute of practical imitation. Mr. McIlhenny is, first of all, a lover of birds, and a humanitarian. He has traveled widely throughout the continent of North America and elsewhere, and has seen much of wild life and man's influence upon it. To-day his highest ambition is to create for the benefit of the Present, and as a heritage to Posterity, a mid-continental chain of great bird refuges, in which migrating wild fowl and birds of all other species may find resting-places and refuges during their migrations, and protected feeding-grounds in winter. In this grand enterprise, the consummation of which is now in progress, Mr. McIlhenny is associated with Mr. Charles Willis Ward, joint donor of the splendid Ward-McIlhenny Bird Preserve of 13,000 acres, which recently was presented to the State of Louisiana by its former owners.
The egret and heron preserve, however, is Mr. McIlhenny's individual enterprise, and really furnished the motif of the larger movement. Of its inception and development, he has kindly furnished me the following account, accompanied by many beautiful photographs of egrets breeding in sanctuary, one of which appears on page 27.
In some recent publications I have seen statements to the effect that you believed the egrets were nearing extinction, owing to the persecution of plume hunters, so I know that you will be interested in the enclosed photographs, which were taken in my heron rookery, situated within 100 yards of my factory, where I am now sitting dictating this letter.This rookery was started by me in 1896, because I saw at that time that the herons of Louisiana were being rapidly exterminated by plume hunters. My thought was that the way to preserve them would be to start an artificial rookery of them where they could be thoroughly protected. With this end in view I built a small pond, taking in a wet space that contained a few willows and other shrubs which grow in wet places.In a large cage in this pond, I raised some snowy herons. After keeping the birds in confinement for something over six months I turned them loose, hoping that they would come back the next season, as they were perfectly tame and were used to seeing people. I was rewarded the next season by four of the birds returning, and nesting in the willows in the pond. This was the start of a rookery that now covers 35 acres, and contains more than twenty thousand pairs of nesting birds, embracing not only the egrets but all the species of herons found in Louisiana, besides many other water birds.With a view to carrying on the preservation of our birds on a larger scale, Mr. Chas. W. Ward and I have recently donated to the State of Louisiana 13,000 acres of what I consider to be the finest wild fowl feeding ground on the Louisiana coast, as it contains the only gravel beach for 50 miles, and all of the geese within that space come daily to this beach for gravel. This territory also produces a great amount of natural food for geese and ducks.
In some recent publications I have seen statements to the effect that you believed the egrets were nearing extinction, owing to the persecution of plume hunters, so I know that you will be interested in the enclosed photographs, which were taken in my heron rookery, situated within 100 yards of my factory, where I am now sitting dictating this letter.
This rookery was started by me in 1896, because I saw at that time that the herons of Louisiana were being rapidly exterminated by plume hunters. My thought was that the way to preserve them would be to start an artificial rookery of them where they could be thoroughly protected. With this end in view I built a small pond, taking in a wet space that contained a few willows and other shrubs which grow in wet places.
In a large cage in this pond, I raised some snowy herons. After keeping the birds in confinement for something over six months I turned them loose, hoping that they would come back the next season, as they were perfectly tame and were used to seeing people. I was rewarded the next season by four of the birds returning, and nesting in the willows in the pond. This was the start of a rookery that now covers 35 acres, and contains more than twenty thousand pairs of nesting birds, embracing not only the egrets but all the species of herons found in Louisiana, besides many other water birds.
With a view to carrying on the preservation of our birds on a larger scale, Mr. Chas. W. Ward and I have recently donated to the State of Louisiana 13,000 acres of what I consider to be the finest wild fowl feeding ground on the Louisiana coast, as it contains the only gravel beach for 50 miles, and all of the geese within that space come daily to this beach for gravel. This territory also produces a great amount of natural food for geese and ducks.
Saving The Gulls And Terns.—But for the vigorous and long-continued efforts of the Audubon Societies, I think our coasts would by this time have been swept clean of the gulls and terns that now adorn it. Twenty years ago the milliners were determined to have them all. The fight for them was long, and hotly contested, but the Audubon Societies won. It was a great victory, and has yielded results of great value to the country at large. And yet, it was only a small number of persons who furnished the money and made the fight which inured to the benefit of the millions of American people. Hereafter, whenever you see an American gull or tern, remind yourself that it was saved to the nation by "the Audubon people."
In times of grave emergency, such as fire, war and scarcity of food, the wild creatures forget their fear of man, and many times actually surrender themselves to his mercy and protection. At such times, hard is the heart and low is the code of manly honor that does not respond in a manner becoming a superior species.
The most pathetic wild-animal situation ever seen in the United States on a large scale is that which for six winters in succession forced several thousand starving elk into the settlement of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, in quest of food at the hands of their natural enemies. The elk lost all fear, partly because they were not attacked, and they surrounded the log-enclosed haystacks, barns and houses, mutely begging for food. Previous to the winter of 1911, thousands of weak calves and cows perished around the haystacks. Mr. S.N. Leek's wonderful pictures tell a thrilling but very sad story.
To the everlasting honor of the people of Jackson Hole, be it recorded that they rose like Men to the occasion that confronted them. In 1909 they gave to the elk herds all the hay that their domestic stock could spare, not pausing to ascertain whether they ever would be reimbursed for it. They just handed it out! The famishing animals literally mobbed the hay-wagons. To-day the national government has the situation in hand.
In times of peace and plenty, the people of Jackson Hole take their toll of the elk herds, but their example during starvation periods is to be commended to all men.
A Slaughter Of Restored Game.—The case of the chamois in Switzerland teaches the world a valuable lesson in hownotto slaughter game that has come back to its haunts through protected breeding.
A few years ago, one of the provinces of Switzerland took note of the fact that its once-abundant stock of chamois was almost extinct, and enacted a law by which the remnant was absolutely protected for a long period. During those years of protection, the animals bred and multiplied, until finally the original number was almost restored.
Then,—as always in such cases,—there arose a strong demand for an open season; and eventually the government yielded to the pressure of the hunters, and fixed a date whereon an open season should begin.
From the "American Natural History"
GULLS AND TERNS OF OUR COASTS, SAVED FROM DESTRUCTION
These Birds have been Saved and Brought back to us by the Splendid Efforts of the Audubon Societies, and other Bird-Lovers. But for the Anti-Plumage Laws, not one Gull or Tern would now Remain on our Atlantic Coast
During the period preceding that fatal date, the living chamois, grown half tame by years of immunity from the guns, were all carefully located and marked down by those who intended to hunt them. At daybreak on the fatal day, the onset began. Guns and hunters were everywhere, and the mountains resounded with the fusillade. Hundreds of chamois were slain, by hundreds of hunters; and by the close of that fatal "open season" the species was more nearly exterminated throughout that region than ever before. Once more those mountains were nice and barren of game.
Let that bloody and disgraceful episode serve as a warning to Americans who are tempted to demand an open season on game that has bred back from the verge of extinction. Particularly do we commend it to the notice of the people of Colorado whoeven noware demanding an open season on the preserved mountain sheep of that state. The granting of such an open season would be a brutal outrage. Those sheep are now so tame and unsuspicious that the killing of them would becold-blooded murder!
The Logical Conclusion.—Within reasonable limits, any partly-destroyed wild species can be increased and brought back by giving absolute protection from harassment and slaughter. When a species is struggling to recuperate, it deserves to be leftentirely unmolesteduntil it is once more on safe ground.
Every breeding wild animal craves seclusion and entire immunity from excitement and all forms of molestation. Nature simply demands this as her unassailable right. It is my firm belief that any wild species will breed in captivity whenever its members are given a degree of seclusion that they deem satisfactory.
With species that have not been shot down to a point entirely too low, adequate protection generously long in duration will bring back their numbers. If the people of the United States so willed it, we could have wild white-tailed deer in every state and in every county (save city counties) between the Atlantic and the Rocky Mountains. We could easily have one thousand bob white quail for every one now living. We could have squirrels in every grove, and songbirds by the million,—merely by protecting them from slaughter and molestation. From Ohio to the great plains, the pinnated grouse could be made far more common than crows and blackbirds.
Inasmuch as all this is true,—and no one with information will dispute it for a moment,—is it not folly to seek to supplant our own splendid native species of game birds (that we never yet have decently protected!) with foreign species? Let the American people answer this question with "Yes" or "No."
The methods by which our non-game birds can be encouraged and brought back are very simple: Protect them, put up shelters for them, give them nest-boxes in abundance, protect them from cats, dogs, and all other forms of destruction, and feed those that need to be fed. I should thinkthat every boy living in the country would find keen pleasure in making and erecting nest-boxes for martins, wrens, and squirrels; in putting up straw teepees in winter for the quail, in feeding the quail, and in nailing to the trees chunks of suet and fat pork every winter for the woodpeckers, nuthatches, and other winter residents.
Will any person now on this earth live long enough to see the present all-pervading and devilish spirit of slaughter so replaced by the love of wild creatures and the true spirit of conservation that it will be as rare as it now is common?
But let no one think for a moment that any vanishing species can at any time be brought back; for that would be a grave error. The point is always reached, by every such species, that the survivors are too few to cope with circumstances, and recovery is impossible. The heath hen could not be brought back, neither could the passenger pigeon. The whooping crane, the sage grouse, the trumpeter swan, the wild turkey, and the upland plover never will come back to us, and nothing that we can do ever will bring them back. Circumstances are against those species,—and I fear against many others also. Thanks to the fact that the American bison breeds well in captivity, we have saved that species from complete extinction, but our antelope seems to be doomed.
It is because of the alarming condition of our best wild life that quick action and strong action is vitally necessary. We are sleeping on our possibilities.