March Tenth

Photograph by E. R. Sanborn.EUROPEAN HEDGEHOG.

Photograph by E. R. Sanborn.

EUROPEAN HEDGEHOG.

People, knowing that the robin is an early spring arrival, are always alert to see or hear the first one. Consequently the first song that catches their ear is supposed to be that of a robin, whereas often it is the spring song of the white-breasted nuthatch, which really has no resemblance to the robin's song.

When you see a bird with a crest (not one that simply raises its head feathers) it must be one of the following species: A blue jay, tufted titmouse, pileated woodpecker, cardinal grosbeak, (also called redbird and cardinal), Bohemian waxwing, or a cedar-bird. These are the only birds inhabiting the Eastern States that wear true crests. The belted kingfisher and many of the ducks and herons have ruffs and plumes but these can scarcely be considered crests.

Some scientists contend that, owing to their intelligence, ants should rank next to man and before the anthropoid apes. They have soldiers that raid other ant colonies and capture eggs, and when the eggs hatch, the young are kept as slaves; they have nurses that watch and care for the eggs and helpless larvæ, and cows (Aphids) that are tended with almost human intelligence.

The Audubon Society has stopped the slaughter of grebes. Before the enactment of the laws framed by the society, these duck-like birds were killed for their snow-white breasts, which were used for decorating (?) women's hats. Grebes are now migrating to the lakes of the North, where they build floating nests of reeds.

The only sure way to tell a venomous snake is to kill the reptile, open its mouth with a stick, and look for the hollow, curved fangs. When not in use they are compressed against the roof of the mouth, beneath the reptile's eyes. They are hinged, as you can see if you pull them forward with a pencil. The venom is contained in a sack hidden beneath the skin at the base of each fang.

As a mimic and a persistent songster, the mocking-bird has no rival, but when quality is considered, I think we have several songsters that are its equal. The bobolink and the winter wren both have rollicking songs that are inspiring and wonderful, but to my ear there are no songs that equal those of the hermit thrush and the wood thrush. Still, the selection of a bird vocalist is a matter of choice which is often influenced by one's association with the singer.

If you will look into one of the large cone-shaped paper nests of the bald-faced hornet, which hang to the limbs of the trees or under the eaves of the house, you will be almost certain to find a few house flies that have passed the winter between the folds of paper. They now show signs of life, and are ready to make their appearance during the first warm spell.

Before the snow has left, you are likely to see dirt-stained spots on the hillsides where the woodchuck or ground-hog has thrown out the partition of dirt which kept the winter air from his bed-chamber. Of course he has not come out for good, but on warm, sunny days he will make short excursions from his burrow to see how the season is progressing. In the early spring, before vegetation sprouts, he finds it difficult to find good food in plenty.

The herring gulls that have been about our harbors and bays all winter, will not remain much longer. They are about to leave for their nesting grounds, in the marshes and on the islands of New England and Canada. In the fall they will return with their young, which wear a grayish plumage.

In winter meadow mice build neat little nests of dried grass on the ground beneath the snow. They are hollow balls, about the size of a hat crown, with a small opening in one or two sides. The outside is made of coarse, rank grass, while the lining is of the finest material obtainable. The heat from the little animals' bodies soon melts an air chamber around the nest, into which lead many tunnels through the snow. As soon as the snow has melted, you will find these nests scattered about the fields and meadows, but they are empty now.

The fish crow is a small edition of the common crow. He is a resident of the Atlantic and Gulf coasts from South Carolina to Louisiana. His note resembles the "caw" of the Northern crow, minus thew, being more of a croak: "cak, cak, cak, cak." You will find him on the coast and along the rivers.

The white-tailed deer of the deep forests have dropped their antlers by this time, and a new set has started to grow. (Elk, moose, caribou, and deer have antlers; sheep, goats and cattle have horns, and retain them throughout life.) Antlers are cast off annually, and a new set will grow in about seven months.

Photograph by Alden Lottridge.NEST OF A MEADOW MOUSE EXPOSED BY MELTING SNOW.

Photograph by Alden Lottridge.

NEST OF A MEADOW MOUSE EXPOSED BY MELTING SNOW.

The purple grackle, or crow blackbird, should make his appearance in Southern New York about this time. He is the large, handsome fellow who lives in colonies and builds his nest in pine, hemlock, and spruce groves near human habitations. As soon as his young are hatched, he frequents the banks of rivers and lakes and walks along in quest of insects. He is one of the few birds thatwalks.

Screech owls are now nesting in natural cavities in apple-trees, but they should not be disturbed, for they feed on mice, beetles and other harmful animals. Owls are very interesting birds, but their wisdom is only in their looks. Their eyes are stationary, so in order to look sidewise, they must turn their head. Watch one and notice him dilate and contract the pupil of his eyes, according to the light, and the distance of the object at which he is gazing.

The American goldfinch, thistlebird, or wild canary, often spends the winter with us, but in his grayish-brown suit he is not recognized by his friends who only know him in his summer garb of black and yellow. The male and the female look alike now, but soon the male will don gorgeous colors and wear them until after the nesting season.

SCREECH OWL.

The scarlet heads of the velvet, or stag-horn sumach are very conspicuous on the rocky hillsides and gravelly bottoms. The fruit of the poison sumach hangs more like a bunch of grapes, while the stag-horn fruit is in a massive cluster. Persons susceptible to poisonous plants should never approach any poisonous shrub, particularly when the body is overheated.

From the swamps and river-banks comes the clatter of loud blackbird voices. Flocks containing hundreds of these noisy fellows perch in the tops of the trees, resting after their long migration flight. From the babble, you recognize the "konk-a-ree" of the red-shouldered blackbird, the harsh squeaky notes of the rusty grackle, and the purple grackle. As you approach, the flock takes flight, and you discover that all of the red-wing blackbirds are males; the females have not yet arrived.

In the dead of winter you may sometimes see a belted kingfisher along some swift-running stream, but as a rule, north of Virginia, few stay with us throughout the year. Most of them appear about this time, and you see them perched on some low limb overhanging a pond or a stream.

From bogs, shaded woods, and sheltered highways. Nature's question-marks, the "fiddle-heads," appear above the loam. They are baby ferns, preparing to expand and wave their graceful leaves in the face of all beholders. These queer, woolly sprouts the Indians use for food, and birds also eat them.

The clear, sweet, and plaintive whistle "pee-a-peabody, peabody, peabody," (which to the French Canadian is interpreted "la-belle-Canada, Canada, Canada") of the white-throated sparrow, or Canada bird, is a common, early spring song, now heard in the swamps and thickets. This sparrow may be found about New York City all winter, but it passes North to nest.

Beneath hickory-nut. Walnut, and butternut trees, you are sure to find large numbers of nut-shells that have been rifled of their contents by red squirrels, chipmunks, meadow mice, and white-footed mice. In nearly every instance, the intelligent little rodents have gnawed through the flat sides of the shell, directly into the meat, and taken it out as "clean as a whistle." But who "taughtthem" to select theflatside?

The noisy kildeer is rare in Pennsylvania and New York, but it is a common plover in Ohio. Its note, "kildeer, kildeer, kildeer," is emitted while the bird is on the ground or in the air. This plover is very abundant in the far West, and when a hunter is stalking antelope, it often flies about his head, calling loudly and warning the game of danger. For this trait it is sometimes called "tell-tale plover."

A question which puzzles scientists, is how the turtles and frogs (which have lungs) are able, at the close of summer, to bury themselves in the mud at the bottom of a river or pond and remain there until the following spring. The frogs appear a few days before the turtles are seen.

The meadowlark's song, "spring-o-the-year," is heard at its best in this month and in May; but the note is one of the few that may be frequently heard in southern New England, during the entire winter. As its name implies, the meadowlark is a bird of the fields and meadows only, but it will often alight in the top of a tall tree and send forth its joyful song. Watch and listen for it now.

As soon as spring arrives and the ice has left the streams, hordes of May or shad fly nymphs can be found working their way against the current a few inches from the shore. Catch a few of them and put them in a tumbler of water and watch their external or "trachea" gills working. The adult insects are abundant in summer, but at this time of the year (even earlier), the stone flies which flit over the melting snow are often mistaken for May, or shad flies.

MEADOW LARK

The name "purple finch" is very misleading, for the head, neck, breast, and throat of the bird are more crimson than purple. The female is often mistaken for a sparrow, as her color is dull, and her breast streaked. This finch often takes up its abode in the coniferous trees in the villages. "Its song bursts forth as if from some uncontrollable stress of gladness, and is repeated uninterruptedly over and over again." (Bicknell.)

If the season is not belated, you may expect to find the blood-root peeping through the rocky soil, on exposed brushy hillsides, or along the margins of the woods. You must look for it early, for its petals drop soon after the flower blossoms. The Indians used the blood-red juice which flows when the root is broken, to decorate their bodies.

The brush lots, roadways, and open forests in the Northern States, are now filled with juncoes on the way to their nesting grounds in Canada and the mountainous portions of this country. They are with us but a few weeks and will not be seen again until next fall. The pinkish bill and the two white outer tail-feathers are of great assistance in identifying this bird, for they are very conspicuous when it flies.

While walking along the bank of a stream you are quite apt to surprise a pair of pickerel lying side by side in shallow water. Save for the vibration of their fins, and the movement of their gills, they do not stir. As you approach they dart off, and you see a roily spot, where they have taken shelter among the aquatic plants.

The birds having white tail-feathers, or tail-feathers that are tipped with white, which show conspicuously when the owners are on the wing, are the meadowlark, vesper sparrow, chewink, snowflake, junco, blue jay, white-breasted nuthatch, Northern shrike, kingbird, hairy woodpecker, downy woodpecker, nighthawk, and whip-poor-will.

The clustering liverwort, hepatica, or squirrel cup, with its fuzzy stems and pretty flowers of various shades of blue, grow side by side with the white wood anemone, or wind-flower. As soon as the wood anemone blossoms, a slight breeze causes the petals to fall; that is why it is called "wind-flower."

DOWNY WOODPECKER.

One of the birds that sportsmen have protected by prohibiting spring shooting, is Wilson's snipe, or jacksnipe. Like many of the early migrants it does not nest in the United States; consequently it is only seen in the spring and fall. It is a bird of the marsh and bog, seldom seen except by those who know where and how to find it.

The gall-flies, or gall-gnats, cut tiny incisions in the oak leaves and golden-rod stems, and lay their eggs between the tissues. These wounds produce large swellings which furnish the larval insects with food. If broken into at this season, one discovers that the galls on the golden-rod stems are pithy. Embedded in the pith is a white "worm," or a small black capsule, but if the "gall" is empty, a hole will be found where the fly emerged.

The red-shouldered hawk is one of our common birds of prey. Its loud, somewhat cat-like cry, coming from the dense hardwood forests which border swamps, lakes, and rivers, at once attracts attention. A pair has been known to return to the same nesting locality for fifteen consecutive years. This hawk has proved itself to be of inestimable value to the farmer, and deserves his protection.

For the past six weeks, chipmunks have occasionally come out from their nests of dried grass and leaves, made in one of their several tunnels beneath the line of frost under a stone pile, or a stump. Now they are seen every day. It is only of recent years that we have discovered that chipmunks destroy grubs and insects, thus rendering service for the nuts and grain that they carry away in the fall.

Have you noticed how the robins congregate in the evening and battle with each other on the house-tops until dark? It is during the mating season that these fights take place. Long after the other birds have gone to bed. Cock Robin is awake, and shouting loud and defiant challenges to whoever will accept them.

Fungi are the lowest forms of plant life. They subsist on living and dead organic matter, and not from the soil, as do most other plants. The bread molds, downy mildew on decaying fruit and vegetables, and the fungus that kills fish and insects, are all forms of fungi. Patches of luxuriant grass are seen where decaying fungi have fertilized the soil.

The continuous "chip-chip-chip-chip-chip-chip——" of the chipping sparrow, like a toy insect that must run down before it can stop, is always a welcome sound at this time of the year. He can easily be tamed to take food from one's hand. Although a neat nest-builder, "chippy" selects poor nesting sites, and often the wind upsets his hair-lined cup and destroys the eggs or young.

At first the song of the spring peeper, which is really afrog, is heard only in the evening, but as the days get warmer, a perfect chorus of piping voices comes from swamps and stagnant pools. He strongly objects to singing before an audience, but it is well worth one's while to wait patiently and catch him in the act of inflating the skin beneath his chin.

On account of its tufted head, and clear, ringing song, "peto, peto, peto, peto" or "de, de, de, de," much like a chickadee (Chapman) the tufted titmouse is a well-known bird throughout its range: eastern United States, from northern New Jersey, and southern Iowa to the plains.

Where is the country boy or girl who does not know the "woolly bear," or "porcupine caterpillar," the chunky, hairy, rufous and black-banded caterpillar, that curls up when touched and does not uncoil until danger is over? They are the larvæ of the Isabella moth, and the reason for their appearance on the railroad tracks and wagon roads, is that they have just finished hibernating and are now looking for a suitable place to retire and change to chrysalides and then into moths.

In the Northern States, where the red-headed woodpecker is not very common, it is apt to be confused with other species of woodpeckers. The red-headed woodpecker isscarlet down to its shoulders. The eastern woodpeckers that have the red crescent on the back of the head are flicker, downy, and hairy woodpeckers.

The gardener, while spading about the roots of a tree, will often throw out a number of white, chunky grubs, about the size of the first joint of one's little finger. These are the larvæ of the June, or May beetle. In the fall, they dig below frost line, where they remain until the following spring. After three years of this life, they emerge from the ground in May and June, perfect beetles.

The myrtle, or yellow-rumped warbler, which spends the winter from Massachusetts, south, into the West Indies and Central America, and nests usually north of the United States, is very common now. It is found in scattered flocks. If in doubt of its identity, look for the yellow patch on the crown, and on the rump.

The dainty little spring beauty, or claytonia, is another of the early blooming flowers. "We look for the spring beauty in April or May, and often find it in the same moist places—on a brook's edge or skirting of wet woods—as the yellow adder's tongue." (Dana.)

Toads are now beginning to leave their winter beds, in the leaves, under stones and the like. Did you ever tie a piece of red cloth on a string, dangle it over a toad's head, to see him follow and snap at it? Toads exude a strong acid secretion from the pores of the skin, which is distasteful to most predatory animals, excepting the snakes.

The yellow-bellied sapsucker is the only member of the woodpecker family whose presence is objectionable. His habit of puncturing the bark of trees and then visiting the cups to catch the sap, is well known. At any time of the year, row after row of these holes may be seen on fruit-trees (usually apple and pear)—written evidence of his guilt. See if you can catch him in the act.

Turkey buzzards, or vultures, are repulsive and ungainly when on the ground, but they are by far the most graceful of all our large birds when in flight. They are rarely seen in New England, or in the Northern States of the Middle Atlantic group, but in the South they are common throughout the year. Mounting high in the air, they circle 'round and 'round with scarcely a flutter of the wings, but nervously tilting to right or left, like a tight-rope walker with his balancing pole.

This is about the time that young red foxes get their first sight of the wide, wide world. In the Southern States they have been prowling about with their parents for weeks; but north of New York City the farmer's boy, as he now goes for the cows in the morning, will frequently see a fox family playing about the entrance to their burrow.

FOX AT DEN.

So ruthlessly has the trailing arbutus, or "May-flower" as it is called in New England, been destroyed, that in places where it was once common, it is now almost extinct. Of its odor, Neltje Blanchan says: "Can words describe the fragrancy of the very breath of spring—that delicious commingling of the perfumes of arbutus, the odors of pines, and the snow-soaked soil just warming into life?"

Why are the robins so abundant? Because they are all pushing forward to their Northern nesting grounds. Even in Alaska you would find a few pairs that have made the long, perilous journey in safety, raising their young in the balsam-poplars along some glacial stream, while in Georgia and Florida, where large flocks of them winter, not one would now be seen.

If you will sow a few sunflower seeds in a corner of the garden and let the plants go to seed, in the fall you are sure to have feathered visitors in the shape of goldfinches, chickadees, and nuthatches. The nuthatches (no doubt thinking of the hard times to come) will carry the seeds away, and store them in the crevices of the bark of trees.

Of uniform grayish color, swift in flight, and shaped like cigars with wings, the chimney swifts might well be called the torpedo boats of the air. They never alight outside of chimneys or old buildings, and are usually seen flying high above the house-tops. For hours they chase each other through the air, keeping up a continuous "chip, chip, chip, chip, chip, chip," whenever the participants of the game come near each other.

No sooner does the frost leave the ground, than the moles begin to work close to the surface, making ridges where the earth is soft, and throwing out small mounds, when it is packed firm. The star-nose mole inhabits damp soil, while the common mole likes the dry highlands. Although moles' eyes are small, he who thinks that they cannot see, should hold his finger before one's nose and see how quickly it will be bitten.

The marsh marigold, which grows in thick clusters in the swamps and along the streams, is now in full bloom. These flowers are often sold on the streets for "cowslips," a name wholly incorrect. The leaves make fine greens.

CHIMNEY SWIFT.

By this time one of your bird houses should be tenanted by a pair of house wrens. They migrate at night and the male arrives about a week in advance of his mate. Both birds assist in building the nest and in raising the young. As soon as the first brood has been reared, the lining of the nest is removed, and a new one built before the second set of six eggs is laid. Wrens may easily be tamed to take spiders and caterpillars (not the hairy ones) from the end of a stick and even from one's hand.

How much easier would be the work of nest building if we provided the birds with nesting material. Scatter strips of cloth, and pieces of coarse twine on the ground for the robins; hair from the tail and mane of horses for the chipping sparrows and wrens; twine and horse-hair for the orioles; bits of "waste" for the yellow warblers, and grapevine bark for the catbirds. None of these strands should be more than four inches long.

In some localities the shad-tree is now in full blossom. As you pause to cut off a few twigs, your ears are greeted by a never ceasing chorus of toad music. This is the toad's "love song"—a high-pitched, somewhat tremulous, and rather monotonous note.

Photograph by J. Alden Loring.ONE OF TOUR BIRD-HOUSES SHOULD BE TENANTED BY A WREN.

Photograph by J. Alden Loring.

ONE OF TOUR BIRD-HOUSES SHOULD BE TENANTED BY A WREN.

Perched upon a stump, fence post, or low limb of a tree, the Bob-white sends forth his clear, far-reaching whistle "Bob-white." In the North this bird is known to every boy as Bob-white, or quail, while in the South he is called "partridge." The last two names are misnomers, for we have no native quails or partridges in this country.

The fronds of the sensitive fern resemble somewhat the leaves of the oak-tree, and in some localities it is called the oak-leaf fern. It is found in damp, shady spots, and is one of the common ferns of New England. The delicate, light green leaves wither soon after being picked, and it is the first of the ferns to fall under the touch of Jack Frost.

A low, squeaking sound made with the lips is understood by some birds as a signal of distress. Orioles, wrens, catbirds, cuckoos, warblers, vireos, robins, and many other birds may be called close to one, particularly if the intruder is near their nest. You should learn this trick, for often it is possible to coax a shy bird from a thicket in order that it may be identified.

In summer the most common of our Northern wood warblers, yet one of the most difficult to see, on account of its liking for the tops of the tall trees, is the black-throated green warbler. Its song is a cheerful, interrogative, "Will you co-ome, will you co-ome, will you?" (Wright), or "a droning zee, zee, ze-ee, zee." (Chapman and Reed.)

Why is it that the usually frisky and noisy red squirrels have become so quiet? If you could look into the nest of dried grass and bark, in a hollow tree-trunk, or a deserted woodpecker's nest, you would understand their reason for not wishing to make their presence known. Keep close watch of the opening, and some day you will see several little heads appear, and in a few days a family of squirrels will be scrambling about the trees. Pretty and graceful as these squirrels are, they do great damage by destroying the eggs and young of birds.

Wintering south of Central America, the veery, or Wilson's thrush, should now appear in the vicinity of Albany. "A weird rhythm" is the expression sometimes used to describe the song of this bird. Weird it certainly is, and beautiful, as well, coming from the depths of some sombre wood, growing more sombre still as the night falls.

The wood thrush is much larger than the veery, and easily distinguished from the six other species of true thrushes of North America, by thelarge black spots on the breast, and the bright cinnamon head. As you listened for the veery, you probably heard the wood thrush's pure liquid song—so far away that you could not catch the low after-notes. To me, the flute-like quality of the wood thrush's song makes it the most enchanting of all bird music.

At intervals during the day, a distinct booming sound is heard coming from the forests. At first the beats are slow and measured, but as they are repeated the time quickens, until they finally blend, and then gradually die away. This is the "drumming" of the ruffed grouse, produced by the cock bird beating with his wings against the sides of his body. At this time of the year it is his love song, but you can hear it at other seasons as well.

Visit again the locality where a week ago you heard so many toads, and what do you find? Long strings of gelatine-covered specks strewn on the bottom of the pond. These black spots are the eggs of the toad, and the gelatine is put around them to protect them and to furnish the first meal for the young polywogs.

To find a hummingbird's nest, snugly saddled on a branch of a maple or apple tree, ten feet or more above the ground, requires patience and keen eyesight. Unless you have seen one, you almost surely would mistake it for a bunch of lichens. It is a neat little structure of downy material covered with bits of lichens, fastened with spider and caterpillar webs.

It would interest you to visit a zoological park to study the growing antlers of a deer or an elk. A pair of black antlers, "in the velvet," as the hunters call it, have taken the place of the bony-colored ones shed in March. Just now they are somewhat flexible, and feverishly hot from the steady flow of blood that feeds them. If they are injured at this time, the owner might bleed to death.

"Caw, caw, caw, ka, ka, ka, ka-k-k-k-r-r-r-r." It sounds as though a crow were being strangled. Looking in that direction you see a large black bird fly from the woods to a meadow. After filling her beak with food she returns. No sooner is she within sight of the young crows, than they flap their wings, open their mouths andcawuntil the stifled, guttural sounds tell you that the morsel is being swallowed.

When perched or flying the bobolink sends forth his jolly song in such a flood of ecstasy that you would scarcely be surprised to see him suddenly explode and vanish in a cloud of feathers. Would that we could overlook the damage he does to Southern rice crops.

Before now you have noticed the dainty little Jack-in-the-pulpit in the damp, shady woods and marshes. Would you suppose that this innocent looking plant is really an insect trap? The thick fleshy "corm" when boiled is quite palatable, but who would think so after digging it from the ground, cutting into it, and feeling the sharp prickly sensation it gives when touched with the tongue?

The song of the brown thrasher can easily be mistaken for that of a catbird, particularly as both birds inhabit roadways, thickets, and open brush lots. The male, while singing to his mate, nearly always perchesin the topof a tall bush or tree. His song is a disconnected combination of pleasant musical tones, which might be arranged so as to sound thrush-like in effect, but they are usually uttered in pairs or trios, rather than in the modulated phrase of the hermit or the wood thrush.

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