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diff --git a/18193-8.txt b/18193-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..179ccf0 --- /dev/null +++ b/18193-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5032 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ways of Wood Folk, by William J. Long + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ways of Wood Folk + +Author: William J. Long + +Illustrator: Charles Copeland + +Release Date: April 17, 2006 [EBook #18193] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAYS OF WOOD FOLK *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Diane Monico, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +WAYS OF WOOD FOLK + +BY + +WILLIAM J. LONG + + +_FIRST SERIES_ + +[Illustration] + +BOSTON, U.S.A. +GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS +The Athenæum Press +1902 + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1899 +BY WILLIAM J. LONG + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + + +TO PLATO, the owl, who looks +over my shoulder as I write, and +who knows all about the woods. + + + + +PREFACE. + +"All crows are alike," said a wise man, speaking of politicians. That +is quite true--in the dark. By daylight, however, there is as much +difference, within and without, in the first two crows one meets as in +the first two men or women. I asked a little child once, who was +telling me all about her chicken, how she knew her chicken from twenty +others just like him in the flock. "How do I know my chicken? I know +him by his little face," she said. And sure enough, the face, when you +looked at it closely, was different from all other faces. + +This is undoubtedly true of all birds and all animals. They recognize +each other instantly amid multitudes of their kind; and one who +watches them patiently sees quite as many odd ways and individualities +among Wood Folk as among other people. No matter, therefore, how well +you know the habits of crows or the habits of caribou in general, +watch the first one that crosses your path as if he were an entire +stranger; open eyes to see and heart to interpret, and you will surely +find some new thing, some curious unrecorded way, to give delight to +your tramp and bring you home with a new interest. + +This individuality of the wild creatures will account, perhaps, for +many of these Ways, which can seem no more curious or startling to the +reader than to the writer when he first discovered them. They are, +almost entirely, the records of personal observation in the woods and +fields. Occasionally, when I know my hunter or woodsman well, I have +taken his testimony, but never without weighing it carefully, and +proving it whenever possible by watching the animal in question for +days or weeks till I found for myself that it was all true. + +The sketches are taken almost at random from old note-books and summer +journals. About them gather a host of associations, of +living-over-agains, that have made it a delight to write them; +associations of the winter woods, of apple blossoms and nest-building, +of New England uplands and wilderness rivers, of camps and canoes, of +snowshoes and trout rods, of sunrise on the hills, when one climbed +for the eagle's nest, and twilight on the yellow wind-swept beaches, +where the surf sobbed far away, and wings twanged like reeds in the +wind swooping down to decoys,--all thronging about one, eager to be +remembered if not recorded. Among them, most eager, most intense, most +frequent of all associations, there is a boy with nerves all a-tingle +at the vast sweet mystery that rustled in every wood, following the +call of the winds and the birds, or wandering alone where the spirit +moved him, who never studied nature consciously, but only loved it, +and who found out many of these Ways long ago, guided solely by a +boy's instinct. + +If they speak to other boys, as to fellow explorers in the always new +world, if they bring back to older children happy memories of a golden +age when nature and man were not quite so far apart, then there will +be another pleasure in having written them. + + +My thanks are due, and are given heartily, to the editors of _The +Youth's Companion_ for permission to use several sketches that have +already appeared, and to Mr. Charles Copeland, the artist, for his +care and interest in preparing the illustrations. + + WM. J. LONG. + + ANDOVER, MASS., June, 1899. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE + + I. FOX-WAYS 1 + II. MERGANSER 27 + III. QUEER WAYS OF BR'ER RABBIT 41 + IV. A WILD DUCK 55 + V. AN ORIOLE'S NEST 69 + VI. THE BUILDERS 77 + VII. CROW-WAYS 101 +VIII. ONE TOUCH OF NATURE 117 + IX. MOOSE CALLING 121 + X. CH'GEEGEE-LOKH-SIS 135 + XI. A FELLOW OF EXPEDIENTS 152 + XII. A TEMPERANCE LESSON FOR THE HORNETS 161 +XIII. SNOWY VISITORS 167 + XIV. A CHRISTMAS CAROL 181 + XV. MOOWEEN THE BEAR 187 + + + + +WAYS OF WOOD FOLK. + + + + +I. FOX-WAYS. + + +[Illustration] + +Did you ever meet a fox face to face, surprising him quite as much as +yourself? If so, you were deeply impressed, no doubt, by his perfect +dignity and self-possession. Here is how the meeting generally comes +about. + +It is a late winter afternoon. You are swinging rapidly over the +upland pastures, or loitering along the winding old road through the +woods. The color deepens in the west; the pines grow black against it; +the rich brown of the oak leaves seems to glow everywhere in the last +soft light; and the mystery that never sleeps long in the woods begins +to rustle again in the thickets. You are busy with your own thoughts, +seeing nothing, till a flash of yellow passes before your eyes, and a +fox stands in the path before you, one foot uplifted, the fluffy brush +swept aside in graceful curve, the bright eyes looking straight into +yours--nay, looking through them to read the intent which gives the +eyes their expression. That is always the way with a fox; he seems to +be looking at your thoughts. + +Surprise, eagerness, a lively curiosity are all in your face on the +instant; but the beautiful creature before you only draws himself +together with quiet self-possession. He lifts his head slightly; a +superior look creeps into his eyes; he seems to be speaking. Listen-- + +"You are surprised?"--this with an almost imperceptible lift of his +eyebrows, which reminds you somehow that it is really none of your +affair. "O, I frequently use this road in attending to some matters +over in the West Parish. To be sure, we are socially incompatible; we +may even regard each other as enemies, unfortunately. I did take your +chickens last week; but yesterday your unmannerly dogs hunted me. At +least we may meet and pass as gentlemen. You are the older; allow me +to give you the path." + +Dropping his head again, he turns to the left, English fashion, and +trots slowly past you. There is no hurry; not the shadow of suspicion +or uneasiness. His eyes are cast down; his brow wrinkled, as if in +deep thought; already he seems to have forgotten your existence. You +watch him curiously as he reenters the path behind you and disappears +over the hill. Somehow a queer feeling, half wonder, half rebuke, +steals over you, as if you had been outdone in courtesy, or had passed +a gentleman without sufficiently recognizing him. + +Ah, but you didn't watch sharply enough! You didn't see, as he circled +past, that cunning side gleam of his yellow eyes, which understood +your attitude perfectly. Had you stirred, he would have vanished like +a flash. You didn't run to the top of the hill where he disappeared, +to see that burst of speed the instant he was out of your sight. You +didn't see the capers, the tail-chasing, the high jumps, the quick +turns and plays; and then the straight, nervous gallop, which told +more plainly than words his exultation that he had outwitted you and +shown his superiority. + +Reynard, wherever you meet him, whether on the old road at twilight, +or on the runway before the hounds, impresses you as an animal of +dignity and calculation. He never seems surprised, much less +frightened; never loses his head; never does things hurriedly, or on +the spur of the moment, as a scatter-brained rabbit or meddling +squirrel might do. You meet him, perhaps as he leaves the warm rock on +the south slope of the old oak woods, where he has been curled up +asleep all the sunny afternoon. (It is easy to find him there in +winter.) Now he is off on his nightly hunt; he is trotting along, +head down, brows deep-wrinkled, planning it all out. + +"Let me see," he is thinking, "last night I hunted the Draper woods. +To-night I'll cross the brook just this side the old bars, and take a +look into that pasture-corner among the junipers. There's a rabbit +which plays round there on moonlight nights; I'll have him presently. +Then I'll go down to the big South meadow after mice. I haven't been +there for a week; and last time I got six. If I don't find mice, +there's that chicken coop of old Jenkins. Only"--He stops, with his +foot up, and listens a minute--"only he locks the coop and leaves the +dog loose ever since I took the big rooster. Anyway I'll take a look +round there. Sometimes Deacon Jones's hens get to roosting in the next +orchard. If I can find them up an apple tree, I'll bring a couple down +with a good trick I know. On the way--Hi, there!" + +In the midst of his planning he gives a grasshopper-jump aside, and +brings down both paws hard on a bit of green moss that quivered as he +passed. He spreads his paws apart carefully; thrusts his nose down +between them; drags a young wood-mouse from under the moss; eats him; +licks his chops twice, and goes on planning as if nothing had +happened. + +"On the way back, I'll swing round by the Fales place, and take a +sniff under the wall by the old hickory, to see if those sleepy skunks +are still there for the winter. I'll have that whole family before +spring, if I'm hungry and can't find anything else. They come out on +sunny days; all you have to do is just hide behind the hickory and +watch." + +So off he goes on his well-planned hunt; and if you follow his track +to-morrow in the snow, you will see how he has gone from one hunting +ground directly to the next. You will find the depression where he lay +in a clump of tall dead grass and watched a while for the rabbit; +reckon the number of mice he caught in the meadow; see his sly tracks +about the chicken coop, and in the orchard; and pause a moment at the +spot where he cast a knowing look behind the hickory by the wall,--all +just as he planned it on his way to the brook. + +If, on the other hand, you stand by one of his runways while the dogs +are driving him, expecting, of course, to see him come tearing along +in a desperate hurry, frightened out of half his wits by the savage +uproar behind him, you can only rub your eyes in wonder when a fluffy +yellow ball comes drifting through the woods towards you, as if the +breeze were blowing it along. There he is, trotting down the runway in +the same leisurely, self-possessed way, wrapped in his own thoughts +apparently, the same deep wrinkles over his eyes. He played a trick or +two on a brook, down between the ponds, by jumping about on a lot of +stones from which the snow had melted, without wetting his feet (which +he dislikes), and without leaving a track anywhere. While the dogs are +puzzling that out, he has plenty of time to plan more devices on his +way to the big hill, with its brook, and old walls, and rail fences, +and dry places under the pines, and twenty other helps to an active +brain. + +First he will run round the hill half a dozen times, crisscrossing his +trail. That of itself will drive the young dogs crazy. Then along the +top rail of a fence, and a long jump into the junipers, which hold no +scent, and another jump to the wall where there is no snow, and then-- + +"Oh, plenty of time, no hurry!" he says to himself, turning to listen +a moment. "That dog with the big voice must be old Roby. He thinks he +knows all about foxes, just because he broke his leg last year, trying +to walk a sheep-fence where I'd been. I'll give him another chance; +and oh, yes! I'll creep up the other side of the hill, and curl up on +a warm rock on the tiptop, and watch them all break their heads over +the crisscross, and have a good nap or two, and think of more +tricks." + +So he trots past you, still planning; crosses the wall by a certain +stone that he has used ever since he was a cub fox; seems to float +across an old pasture, stopping only to run about a bit among some cow +tracks, to kill the scent; and so on towards his big hill. Before he +gets there he will have a skilful retreat planned, back to the ponds, +in case old Roby untangles his crisscross, or some young fool-hound +blunders too near the rock whereon he sits, watching the game. + +If you meet him now, face to face, you will see no quiet assumption of +superiority; unless perchance he is a young fox, that has not learned +what it means to be met on a runway by a man with a gun when the dogs +are driving. With your first slightest movement there is a flash of +yellow fur, and he has vanished into the thickest bit of underbrush at +hand.--Don't run; you will not see him again here. He knows the old +roads and paths far better than you do, and can reach his big hill by +any one of a dozen routes where you would never dream of looking. But +if you want another glimpse of him, take the shortest cut to the hill. +He may take a nap, or sit and listen a while to the dogs, or run round +a swamp before he gets there. Sit on the wall in plain sight; make a +post of yourself; keep still, and keep your eyes open. + +Once, in just such a place, I had a rare chance to watch him. It was +on the summit of a great bare hill. Down in the woods by a swamp, five +or six hounds were waking the winter echoes merrily on a fresh trail. +I was hoping for a sight of Reynard when he appeared from nowhere, on +a rock not fifty yards away. There he lay, his nose between his paws, +listening with quiet interest to the uproar below. Occasionally he +raised his head as some young dog scurried near, yelping maledictions +upon a perfect tangle of fox tracks, none of which went anywhere. +Suddenly he sat up straight, twisted his head sideways, as a dog does +when he sees the most interesting thing of his life, dropped his +tongue out a bit, and looked intently. I looked too, and there, just +below, was old Roby, the best foxhound in a dozen counties, creeping +like a cat along the top rail of a sheep-fence, now putting his nose +down to the wood, now throwing his head back for a great howl of +exultation.--It was all immensely entertaining; and nobody seemed to +be enjoying it more than the fox. + +One of the most fascinating bits of animal study is to begin at the +very beginning of fox education, _i.e._, to find a fox den, and go +there some afternoon in early June, and hide at a distance, where you +can watch the entrance through your field-glass. Every afternoon the +young foxes come out to play in the sunshine like so many kittens. +Bright little bundles of yellow fur they seem, full of tricks and +whims, with pointed faces that change only from exclamation to +interrogation points, and back again. For hours at a stretch they roll +about, and chase tails, and pounce upon the quiet old mother with +fierce little barks. One climbs laboriously up the rock behind the +den, and sits on his tail, gravely surveying the great landscape with +a comical little air of importance, as if he owned it all. When called +to come down he is afraid, and makes a great to-do about it. Another +has been crouching for five minutes behind a tuft of grass, watching +like a cat at a rat-hole for some one to come by and be pounced upon. +Another is worrying something on the ground, a cricket perhaps, or a +doodle-bug; and the fourth never ceases to worry the patient old +mother, till she moves away and lies down by herself in the shadow of +a ground cedar. + +As the afternoon wears away, and long shadows come creeping up the +hillside, the mother rises suddenly and goes back to the den; the +little ones stop their play, and gather about her. You strain your +ears for the slightest sound, but hear nothing; yet there she is, +plainly talking to them; and they are listening. She turns her head, +and the cubs scamper into the den's mouth. A moment she stands +listening, looking; while just within the dark entrance you get +glimpses of four pointed black noses, and a cluster of bright little +eyes, wide open for a last look. Then she trots away, planning her +hunt, till she disappears down by the brook. When she is gone, eyes +and noses draw back; only a dark silent hole in the bank is left. You +will not see them again--not unless you stay to watch by moonlight +till mother-fox comes back, with a fringe of field-mice hanging from +her lips, or a young turkey thrown across her shoulders. + +One shrewd thing frequently noticed in the conduct of an old fox with +young is that she never troubles the poultry of the farms nearest her +den. She will forage for miles in every direction; will harass the +chickens of distant farms till scarcely a handful remains of those +that wander into the woods, or sleep in the open yards; yet she will +pass by and through nearer farms without turning aside to hunt, except +for mice and frogs; and, even when hungry, will note a flock of +chickens within sight of her den, and leave them undisturbed. She +seems to know perfectly that a few missing chickens will lead to a +search; that boys' eyes will speedily find her den, and boys' hands +dig eagerly for a litter of young foxes. + +Last summer I found a den, beautifully hidden, within a few hundred +yards of an old farmhouse. The farmer assured me he had never missed a +chicken; he had no idea that there was a fox within miles of his large +flock. Three miles away was another farmer who frequently sat up +nights, and set his boys to watching afternoons, to shoot a fox that, +early and late, had taken nearly thirty young chickens. Driven to +exasperation at last, he borrowed a hound from a hunter; and the dog +ran the trail straight to the den I had discovered. + +Curiously enough, the cubs, for whose peaceful bringing up the mother +so cunningly provides, do not imitate her caution. They begin their +hunting by lying in ambush about the nearest farm; the first stray +chicken they see is game. Once they begin to plunder in this way, and +feed full on their own hunting, parental authority is gone; the mother +deserts the den immediately, leading the cubs far away. But some of +them go back, contrary to all advice, and pay the penalty. She knows +now that sooner or later some cub will be caught stealing chickens in +broad daylight, and be chased by dogs. The foolish youngster takes to +earth, instead of trusting to his legs; so the long-concealed den is +discovered and dug open at last. + +When an old fox, foraging for her young some night, discovers by her +keen nose that a flock of hens has been straying near the woods, she +goes next day and hides herself there, lying motionless for hours at a +stretch in a clump of dead grass or berry bushes, till the flock comes +near enough for a rush. Then she hurls herself among them, and in the +confusion seizes one by the neck, throws it by a quick twist across +her shoulders, and is gone before the stupid hens find out what it is +all about. + +But when a fox finds an old hen or turkey straying about with a brood +of chicks, then the tactics are altogether different. Creeping up like +a cat, the fox watches an opportunity to seize a chick out of sight of +the mother bird. That done, he withdraws, silent as a shadow, his grip +on the chick's neck preventing any outcry. Hiding his game at a +distance, he creeps back to capture another in the same way; and so on +till he has enough, or till he is discovered, or some half-strangled +chick finds breath enough for a squawk. A hen or turkey knows the +danger by instinct, and hurries her brood into the open at the first +suspicion that a fox is watching. + +A farmer, whom I know well, first told me how a fox manages to carry a +number of chicks at once. He heard a clamor from a hen-turkey and her +brood one day, and ran to a wood path in time to see a vixen make off +with a turkey chick scarcely larger than a robin. Several were +missing from the brood. He hunted about, and presently found five more +just killed. They were beautifully laid out, the bodies at a broad +angle, the necks crossing each other, like the corner of a corn-cob +house, in such a way that, by gripping the necks at the angle, all the +chicks could be carried at once, half hanging at either side of the +fox's mouth. Since then I have seen an old fox with what looked like a +dozen or more field-mice carried in this way; only, of course, the +tails were crossed corn-cob fashion instead of the necks. + +The stealthiness with which a fox stalks his game is one of the most +remarkable things about him. Stupid chickens are not the only birds +captured. Once I read in the snow the story of his hunt after a +crow--wary game to be caught napping! The tracks showed that quite a +flock of crows had been walking about an old field, bordered by pine +and birch thickets. From the rock where he was sleeping away the +afternoon the fox saw or heard them, and crept down. How cautious he +was about it! Following the tracks, one could almost see him stealing +along from stone to bush, from bush to grass clump, so low that his +body pushed a deep trail in the snow, till he reached the cover of a +low pine on the very edge of the field. There he crouched with all +four feet close together under him. Then a crow came by within ten +feet of the ambush. The tracks showed that the bird was a bit +suspicious; he stopped often to look and listen. When his head was +turned aside for an instant the fox launched himself; just two jumps, +and he had him. Quick as he was, the wing marks showed that the crow +had started, and was pulled down out of the air. Reynard carried him +into the densest thicket of scrub pines he could find, and ate him +there, doubtless to avoid the attacks of the rest of the flock, which +followed him screaming vengeance. + +A strong enmity exists between crows and foxes. Wherever a crow finds +a fox, he sets up a clatter that draws a flock about him in no time, +in great excitement. They chase the fox as long as he is in sight, +cawing vociferously, till he creeps into a thicket of scrub pines, +into which no crow will ever venture, and lies down till he tires out +their patience. In hunting, one may frequently trace the exact course +of a fox which the dogs are driving, by the crows clamoring over him. +Here in the snow was a record that may help explain one side of the +feud. + +From the same white page one may read many other stories of Reynard's +ways and doings. Indeed I know of no more interesting winter walk than +an afternoon spent on his last night's trail through the soft snow. +There is always something new, either in the track or the woods +through which it leads; always a fresh hunting story; always a +disappointment or two, a long cold wait for a rabbit that didn't come, +or a miscalculation over the length of the snow tunnel where a +partridge burrowed for the night. Generally, if you follow far enough, +there is also a story of good hunting which leaves you wavering +between congratulation over a successful stalk after nights of hungry, +patient wandering, and pity for the little tragedy told so vividly by +converging trails, a few red drops in the snow, a bit of fur blown +about by the wind, or a feather clinging listlessly to the underbrush. +In such a tramp one learns much of fox-ways and other ways that can +never be learned elsewhere. + + * * * * * + +The fox whose life has been spent on the hillsides surrounding a New +England village seems to have profited by generations of experience. +He is much more cunning every way than the fox of the wilderness. If, +for instance, a fox has been stealing your chickens, your trap must be +very cunningly set if you are to catch him. It will not do to set it +near the chickens; no inducement will be great enough to bring him +within yards of it. It must be set well back in the woods, near one of +his regular hunting grounds. Before that, however, you must bait the +fox with choice bits scattered over a pile of dry leaves or chaff, +sometimes for a week, sometimes for a month, till he comes regularly. +Then smoke your trap, or scent it; handle it only with gloves; set it +in the chaff; scatter bait as usual; and you have one chance of +getting him, while he has still a dozen of getting away. In the +wilderness, on the other hand, he may be caught with half the +precaution. I know a little fellow, whose home is far back from the +settlements, who catches five or six foxes every winter by ordinary +wire snares set in the rabbit paths, where foxes love to hunt. + +In the wilderness one often finds tracks in the snow, telling how a +fox tried to catch a partridge and only succeeded in frightening it +into a tree. After watching a while hungrily,--one can almost see him +licking his chops under the tree,--he trots off to other hunting +grounds. If he were an educated fox he would know better than that. + +When an old New England fox in some of his nightly prowlings discovers +a flock of chickens roosting in the orchard, he generally gets one or +two. His plan is to come by moonlight, or else just at dusk, and, +running about under the tree, bark sharply to attract the chickens' +attention. If near the house, he does this by jumping, lest the dog or +the farmer hear his barking. Once they have begun to flutter and +cackle, as they always do when disturbed, he begins to circle the tree +slowly, still jumping and clacking his teeth. The chickens crane their +necks down to follow him. Faster and faster he goes, racing in small +circles, till some foolish fowl grows dizzy with twisting her head, or +loses her balance and tumbles down, only to be snapped up and carried +off across his shoulders in a twinkling. + +But there is one way in which fox of the wilderness and fox of the +town are alike easily deceived. Both are very fond of mice, and +respond quickly to the squeak, which can be imitated perfectly by +drawing the breath in sharply between closed lips. The next thing, +after that is learned, is to find a spot in which to try the effect. + +Two or three miles back from almost all New England towns are certain +old pastures and clearings, long since run wild, in which the young +foxes love to meet and play on moonlight nights, much as rabbits do, +though in a less harum-scarum way. When well fed, and therefore in no +hurry to hunt, the heart of a young fox turns naturally to such a +spot, and to fun and capers. The playground may easily be found by +following the tracks after the first snowfall. (The knowledge will not +profit you probably till next season; but it is worth finding and +remembering.) If one goes to the place on some still, bright night in +autumn, and hides on the edge of the open, he stands a good chance of +seeing two or three foxes playing there. Only he must himself be still +as the night; else, should twenty foxes come that way, he will never +see one. + +It is always a pretty scene, the quiet opening in the woods flecked +with soft gray shadows in the moonlight, the dark sentinel evergreens +keeping silent watch about the place, the wild little creatures +playing about among the junipers, flitting through light and shadow, +jumping over each other and tumbling about in mimic warfare, all +unconscious of a spectator as the foxes that played there before the +white man came, and before the Indians. Such scenes do not crowd +themselves upon one. He must wait long, and love the woods, and be +often disappointed; but when they come at last, they are worth all the +love and the watching. And when the foxes are not there, there is +always something else that is beautiful.-- + +Now squeak like a mouse, in the midst of the play. Instantly the fox +nearest you stands, with one foot up, listening. Another squeak, and +he makes three or four swift bounds in your direction, only to stand +listening again; he hasn't quite located you. Careful now! don't +hurry; the longer you keep him waiting, the more certainly he is +deceived. Another squeak; some more swift jumps that bring him +within ten feet; and now he smells or sees you, sitting motionless on +your boulder in the shadow of the pines. + +[Illustration] + +He isn't surprised; at least he pretends he isn't; but looks you over +indifferently, as if he were used to finding people sitting on that +particular rock. Then he trots off with an air of having forgotten +something. With all his cunning he never suspects you of being the +mouse. That little creature he believes to be hiding under the rock; +and to-morrow night he will very likely take a look there, or respond +to your squeak in the same way. + +It is only early in the season, generally before the snow blows, that +one can see them playing; and it is probably the young foxes that are +so eager for this kind of fun. Later in the season--either because the +cubs have lost their playfulness, or because they must hunt so +diligently for enough to eat that there is no time for play--they +seldom do more than take a gallop together, with a playful jump or +two, before going their separate ways. At all times, however, they +have a strong tendency to fun and mischief-making. More than once, in +winter, I have surprised a fox flying round after his own bushy tail +so rapidly that tail and fox together looked like a great yellow +pin-wheel on the snow. + +When a fox meets a toad or frog, and is not hungry, he worries the +poor thing for an hour at a time; and when he finds a turtle he turns +the creature over with his paw, sitting down gravely to watch its +awkward struggle to get back onto its feet. At such times he has a +most humorous expression, brows wrinkled and tongue out, as if he were +enjoying himself hugely. + +Later in the season he would be glad enough to make a meal of toad or +turtle. One day last March the sun shone out bright and warm; in the +afternoon the first frogs began to tune up, _cr-r-r-runk, +cr-r-runk-a-runk-runk_, like a flock of brant in the distance. I was +watching them at a marshy spot in the woods, where they had come out +of the mud by dozens into a bit of open water, when the bushes parted +cautiously and the sharp nose of a fox appeared. The hungry fellow had +heard them from the hill above, where he was asleep, and had come down +to see if he could catch a few. He was creeping out onto the ice when +he smelled me, and trotted back into the woods. + +Once I saw him catch a frog. He crept down to where Chigwooltz, a fat +green bullfrog, was sunning himself by a lily pad, and very cautiously +stretched out one paw under water. Then with a quick fling he tossed +his game to land, and was after him like a flash before he could +scramble back. + +On the seacoast Reynard depends largely on the tides for a living. An +old fisherman assures me that he has seen him catching crabs there in +a very novel way. Finding a quiet bit of water where the crabs are +swimming about, he trails his brush over the surface till one rises +and seizes it with his claw (a most natural thing for a crab to do), +whereupon the fox springs away, jerking the crab to land. Though a fox +ordinarily is careful as a cat about wetting his tail or feet, I shall +not be surprised to find some day for myself that the fisherman was +right. Reynard is very ingenious, and never lets his little prejudices +stand in the way when he is after a dinner. + +His way of beguiling a duck is more remarkable than his fishing. Late +one afternoon, while following the shore of a pond, I noticed a +commotion among some tame ducks, and stopped to see what it was about. +They were swimming in circles, quacking and stretching their wings, +evidently in great excitement. A few minutes' watching convinced me +that something on the shore excited them. Their heads were straight up +from the water, looking fixedly at something that I could not see; +every circle brought them nearer the bank. I walked towards them, not +very cautiously, I am sorry to say; for the farmhouse where the ducks +belonged was in plain sight, and I was not expecting anything unusual. +As I glanced over the bank something slipped out of sight into the +tall grass. I followed the waving tops intently, and caught one sure +glimpse of a fox as he disappeared into the woods. + +The thing puzzled me for years, though I suspected some foxy trick, +till a duck-hunter explained to me what Reynard was doing. He had seen +it tried successfully once on a flock of wild ducks.-- + +When a fox finds a flock of ducks feeding near shore, he trots down +and begins to play on the beach in plain sight, watching the birds the +while out of the "tail o' his ee," as a Scotchman would say. Ducks are +full of curiosity, especially about unusual colors and objects too +small to frighten them; so the playing animal speedily excites a +lively interest. They stop feeding, gather close together, spread, +circle, come together again, stretching their necks as straight as +strings to look and listen. + +Then the fox really begins his performance. He jumps high to snap at +imaginary flies; he chases his bushy tail; he rolls over and over in +clouds of flying sand; he gallops up the shore, and back like a +whirlwind; he plays peekaboo with every bush. The foolish birds grow +excited; they swim in smaller circles, quacking nervously, drawing +nearer and nearer to get a better look at the strange performance. +They are long in coming, but curiosity always gets the better of them; +those in the rear crowd the front rank forward. All the while the show +goes on, the performer paying not the slightest attention apparently +to his excited audience; only he draws slowly back from the water's +edge, as if to give them room as they crowd nearer. + +They are on shore at last; then, while they are lost in the most +astonishing caper of all, the fox dashes among them, throwing them +into the wildest confusion. His first snap never fails to throw a duck +back onto the sand with a broken neck; and he has generally time for a +second, often for a third, before the flock escapes into deep water. +Then he buries all his birds but one, throws that across his +shoulders, and trots off, wagging his head, to some quiet spot where +he can eat his dinner and take a good nap undisturbed. + +When with all his cunning Reynard is caught napping, he makes use of +another good trick he knows. One winter morning some years ago, my +friend, the old fox-hunter, rose at daylight for a run with the dogs +over the new-fallen snow. Just before calling his hounds, he went to +his hen-house, some distance away, to throw the chickens some corn for +the day. As he reached the roost, his steps making no sound in the +snow, he noticed the trail of a fox crossing the yard and entering the +coop through a low opening sometimes used by the chickens. No trail +came out; it flashed upon him that the fox must be inside at that +moment. + +Hardly had he reached this conclusion when a wild cackle arose that +left no doubt about it. On the instant he whirled an empty box against +the opening, at the same time pounding lustily to frighten the thief +from killing more chickens. Reynard was trapped sure enough. The +fox-hunter listened at the door, but save for an occasional surprised +_cut-aa-cut_, not a sound was heard within. + +Very cautiously he opened the door and squeezed through. There lay a +fine pullet stone dead; just beyond lay the fox, dead too. + +"Well, of all things," said the fox-hunter, open-mouthed, "if he +hasn't gone and climbed the roost after that pullet, and then tumbled +down and broken his own neck!" + +Highly elated with this unusual beginning of his hunt, he picked up +the fox and the pullet and laid them down together on the box outside, +while he fed his chickens. + +When he came out, a minute later, there was the box and a feather or +two, but no fox and no pullet. Deep tracks led out of the yard and up +over the hill in flying jumps. Then it dawned upon our hunter that +Reynard had played the possum-game on him, getting away with a whole +skin and a good dinner. + +There was no need to look farther for a good fox track. Soon the music +of the hounds went ringing over the hill and down the hollow; but though +the dogs ran true, and the hunter watched the runways all day with +something more than his usual interest, he got no glimpse of the wily +old fox. Late at night the dogs came limping home, weary and footsore, +but with never a long yellow hair clinging to their chops to tell a +story. + +The fox saved his pullet, of course. Finding himself pursued, he +buried it hastily, and came back the next night undoubtedly to get it. + +Several times since then I have known of his playing possum in the +same way. The little fellow whom I mentioned as living near the +wilderness, and snaring foxes, once caught a black fox--a rare, +beautiful animal with a very valuable skin--in a trap which he had +baited for weeks in a wild pasture. It was the first black fox he had +ever seen, and, boylike, he took it only as a matter of mild wonder to +find the beautiful creature frozen stiff, apparently, on his pile of +chaff with one hind leg fast in the trap. + +He carried the prize home, trap and all, over his shoulder. At his +whoop of exultation the whole family came out to admire and +congratulate. At last he took the trap from the fox's leg, and +stretched him out on the doorstep to gloat over the treasure and +stroke the glossy fur to his heart's content. His attention was taken +away for a moment; then he had a dazed vision of a flying black +animal that seemed to perch an instant on the log fence and vanish +among the spruces. + +Poor Johnnie! There were tears in his eyes when he told me about it, +three years afterwards. + + * * * * * + +These are but the beginning of fox-ways. I have not spoken of his +occasional tree climbing; nor of his grasshopper hunting; nor of his +planning to catch three quails at once when he finds a whole covey +gathered into a dinner-plate circle, tails in, heads out, asleep on +the ground; nor of some perfectly astonishing things he does when hard +pressed by dogs. But these are enough to begin the study and still +leave plenty of things to find out for one's self. Reynard is rarely +seen, even in places where he abounds; we know almost nothing of his +private life; and there are undoubtedly many of his most interesting +ways yet to be discovered. He has somehow acquired a bad name, +especially among farmers; but, on the whole, there is scarcely a wild +thing in the woods that better repays one for the long hours spent in +catching a glimpse of him. + + + + +II. MERGANSER. + + +[Illustration] + +Shelldrake, or shellbird, is the name by which this duck is generally +known, though how he came to be called so would be hard to tell. +Probably the name was given by gunners, who see him only in winter +when hunger drives him to eat mussels--but even then he likes +mud-snails much better. + +The name fish-duck, which one hears occasionally, is much more +appropriate. The long slender bill, with its serrated edges fitting +into each other like the teeth of a bear trap, just calculated to +seize and hold a slimy wriggling fish, is quite enough evidence as to +the nature of the bird's food, even if one had not seen him fishing on +the lakes and rivers which are his summer home. + +That same bill, by the way, is sometimes a source of danger. Once, on +the coast, I saw a shelldrake tying in vain to fly against the wind, +which flung rudely among some tall reeds near me. The next moment +Don, my old dog, had him. In a hungry moment he had driven his bill +through both shells of a scallop, which slipped or worked its way up +to his nostrils, muzzling the bird perfectly with a hard shell ring. +The poor fellow by desperate trying could open his mouth barely wide +enough to drink or to swallow the tiniest morsel. He must have been in +this condition a long time, for the bill was half worn through, and he +was so light that the wind blew him about like a great feather when he +attempted to fly. + +Fortunately Don was a good retriever and had brought the duck in with +scarcely a quill ruffled; so I had the satisfaction of breaking his +bands and letting him go free with a splendid rush. But the wind was +too much for him; he dropped back into the water and went skittering +down the harbor like a lady with too much skirt and too big a hat in +boisterous weather. Meanwhile Don lay on the sand, head up, ears up, +whining eagerly for the word to fetch. Then he dropped his head, and +drew a long breath, and tried to puzzle it out why a man should go out +on a freezing day in February, and tramp, and row, and get wet to find +a bird, only to let him go after he had been fairly caught. + +Kwaseekho the shelldrake leads a double life. In winter he may be +found almost anywhere along the Massachusetts coast and southward, +where he leads a dog's life of it, notwithstanding his gay +appearance. An hundred guns are roaring at him wherever he goes. From +daylight to dark he has never a minute to eat his bit of fish, or to +take a wink of sleep in peace. He flies to the ocean, and beds with +his fellows on the broad open shoals for safety. But the east winds +blow; and the shoals are a yeasty mass of tumbling breakers. They +buffet him about; they twist his gay feathers; they dampen his +pinions, spite of his skill in swimming. Then he goes to the creeks +and harbors. + +Along the shore a flock of his own kind, apparently, are feeding in +quiet water. Straight in he comes with unsuspecting soul, the morning +light shining full on his white breast and bright red feet as he +steadies himself to take the water. But _bang, bang!_ go the guns; and +_splash, splash!_ fall his companions; and out of a heap of seaweed +come a man and a dog; and away he goes, sadly puzzled at the painted +things in the water, to think it all over in hunger and sorrow. + +Then the weather grows cold, and a freeze-up covers all his feeding +grounds. Under his beautiful feathers the bones project to spoil the +contour of his round plump body. He is famished now; he watches the +gulls to see what they eat. When he finds out, he forgets his caution, +and roams about after stray mussels on the beach. In the spring +hunger drives him into the ponds where food is plenty--but such food! +In a week his flesh is so strong that a crow would hardly eat it. +Altogether, it is small wonder that as soon as his instinct tells him +the streams of the North are open and the trout running up, he is off +to a land of happier memories. + +In summer he forgets his hardships. His life is peaceful as a meadow +brook. His home is the wilderness--on a lonely lake, it may be, +shimmering under the summer sun, or kissed into a thousand smiling +ripples by the south wind. Or perhaps it is a forest river, winding on +by wooded hills and grassy points and lonely cedar swamps. In secret +shallow bays the young broods are plashing about, learning to swim and +dive and hide in safety. The plunge of the fish-hawk comes up from the +pools. A noisy kingfisher rattles about from tree to stump, like a +restless busy-body. The hum of insects fills the air with a drowsy +murmur. Now a deer steps daintily down the point, and looks, and +listens, and drinks. A great moose wades awkwardly out to plunge his +head under and pull away at the lily roots. But the young brood mind +not these harmless things. Sometimes indeed, as the afternoon wears +away, they turn their little heads apprehensively as the alders crash +and sway on the bank above; a low cluck from the mother bird sends +them all off into the grass to hide. How quickly they have +disappeared, leaving never a trace! But it is only a bear come down +from the ridge where he has been sleeping, to find a dead fish +perchance for his supper; and the little brood seem to laugh as +another low cluck brings them scurrying back from their hiding places. + +Once, perhaps, comes a real fright, when all their summer's practice +is put to the test. An unusual noise is heard; and round the bend +glides a bark canoe with sound of human voices. Away go the brood +together, the river behind them foaming like the wake of a tiny +steamer as the swift-moving feet lift them almost out of water. +Visions of ocean, the guns, falling birds, and the hard winter +distract the poor mother. She flutters wildly about the brood, now +leading, now bravely facing the monster; now pushing along some weak +little loiterer, now floundering near the canoe as if wounded, to +attract attention from the young. But they double the point at last, +and hide away under the alders. The canoe glides by and makes no +effort to find them. Silence is again over the forest. The little +brood come back to the shallows, with mother bird fluttering round +them to count again and again lest any be missing. The kingfisher +comes out of his hole in the bank. The river flows on as before, and +peace returns; and over all is the mystic charm of the wilderness and +the quiet of a summer day. + +This is the way it all looks and seems to me, sitting over under the +big hemlock, out of sight, and watching the birds through my +field-glass. + +Day after day I have attended such little schools unseen and +unsuspected by the mother bird. Sometimes it was the a-b-c class, wee +little downy fellows, learning to hide on a lily pad, and never +getting a reward of merit in the shape of a young trout till they hid +so well that the teacher (somewhat over-critical, I thought) was +satisfied. Sometimes it was the baccalaureates that displayed their +talents to the unbidden visitor, flashing out of sight, cutting +through the water like a ray of light, striking a young trout on the +bottom with the rapidity and certainty almost of the teacher. It was +marvelous, the diving and swimming; and mother bird looked on and +quacked her approval of the young graduates.--That is another +peculiarity: the birds are dumb in winter; they find their voice only +for the young. + +While all this careful training is going on at home, the drake is off +on the lakes somewhere with his boon companions, having a good time, +and utterly neglectful of parental responsibility. Sometimes I have +found clubs of five or six, gay fellows all, living by themselves at +one end of a big lake where the fishing was good. All summer long +they roam and gad about, free from care, and happy as summer campers, +leaving mother birds meanwhile to feed and educate their offspring. +Once only have I seen a drake sharing the responsibilities of his +family. I watched three days to find the cause of his devotion; but he +disappeared the third evening, and I never saw him again. Whether the +drakes are lazy and run away, or whether they have the atrocious habit +of many male birds and animals of destroying their young, and so are +driven away by the females, I have not been able to find out. + +These birds are very destructive on the trout streams; if a summer +camper spare them, it is because of his interest in the young, and +especially because of the mother bird's devotion. When the recreant +drake is met with, however, he goes promptly onto the bill of fare, +with other good things. + +Occasionally one overtakes a brood on a rapid river. Then the poor +birds are distressed indeed. At the first glimpse of the canoe they +are off, churning the water into foam in their flight. Not till they +are out of sight round the bend do they hear the cluck that tells them +to hide. Some are slow in finding a hiding place on the strange +waters. The mother bird hurries them. They are hunting in frantic +haste when round the bend comes the swift-gliding canoe. With a note +of alarm they are all off again, for she will not leave even the +weakest alone. Again they double the bend and try to hide; again the +canoe overtakes them; and so on, mile after mile, till a stream or +bogan flowing into the river offers a road to escape. Then, like a +flash, the little ones run in under shelter of the banks, and glide up +stream noiselessly, while mother bird flutters on down the river just +ahead of the canoe. Having lured it away to a safe distance, as she +thinks, she takes wing and returns to the young. + +Their powers of endurance are remarkable. Once, on the Restigouche, we +started a brood of little ones late in the afternoon. We were moving +along in a good current, looking for a camping ground, and had little +thought for the birds, which could never get far enough ahead to hide +securely. For five miles they kept ahead of us, rushing out at each +successive stretch of water, and fairly distancing us in a straight +run. When we camped they were still below us. At dusk I was sitting +motionless near the river when a slight movement over near the +opposite bank attracted me. There was the mother bird, stealing along +up stream under the fringe of bushes. The young followed in single +file. There was no splashing of water now. Shadows were not more +noiseless. + +Twice since then I have seen them do the same thing. I have no doubt +they returned that evening all the way up to the feeding grounds where +we first started them; for like the kingfishers every bird seems to +have his own piece of the stream. He never fishes in his neighbor's +pools, nor will he suffer any poaching in his own. On the Restigouche +we found a brood every few miles; on other rivers less plentifully +stocked with trout they are less numerous. On lakes there is often a +brood at either end; but though I have watched them carefully, I have +never seen them cross to each other's fishing grounds. + +Once, up on the Big Toledi, I saw a curious bit of their education. I +was paddling across the lake one day, when I saw a shellbird lead her +brood into a little bay where I knew the water was shallow; and +immediately they began dipping, though very awkwardly. They were +evidently taking their first lessons in diving. The next afternoon I +was near the same place. I had done fishing--or rather, frogging--and +had pushed the canoe into some tall grass out of sight, and was +sitting there just doing nothing. + +A musquash came by, and rubbed his nose against the canoe, and nibbled +a lily root before he noticed me. A shoal of minnows were playing +among the grasses near by. A dragon-fly stood on his head against a +reed--a most difficult feat, I should think. He was trying some +contortion that I couldn't make out, when a deer stepped down the +bank and never saw me. Doing nothing pays one under such +circumstances, if only by the glimpses it gives of animal life. It is +so rare to see a wild thing unconscious. + +Then Kwaseekho came into the shallow bay again with her brood, and +immediately they began dipping as before. I wondered how the mother +made them dive, till I looked through the field-glass and saw that the +little fellows occasionally brought up something to eat. But there +certainly were no fish to be caught in that warm, shallow water. An +idea struck me, and I pushed the canoe out of the grass, sending the +brood across the lake in wild confusion. There on the black bottom +were a dozen young trout, all freshly caught, and all with the +air-bladder punctured by the mother bird's sharp bill. She had +provided their dinner, but she brought it to a good place and made +them dive to get it. + +As I paddled back to camp, I thought of the way the Indians taught +their boys to shoot. They hung their dinner from the trees, out of +reach, and made them cut the cord that held it, with an arrow. Did the +Indians originate this, I wonder, in their direct way of looking at +things, almost as simple as the birds'? Or was the idea whispered to +some Indian hunter long ago, as he watched Merganser teach her young +to dive? + +Of all the broods I have met in the wilderness, only one, I think, +ever grew to recognize me and my canoe a bit, so as to fear me less +than another. It was on a little lake in the heart of the woods, where +we lingered long on our journey, influenced partly by the beauty of +the place, and partly by the fact that two or three bears roamed about +there, which I sometimes met at twilight on the lake shore. The brood +were as wild as other broods; but I met them often, and they sometimes +found the canoe lying motionless and harmless near them, without quite +knowing how it came there. So after a few days they looked at me with +curiosity and uneasiness only, unless I came too near. + +There were six in the brood. Five were hardy little fellows that made +the water boil behind them as they scurried across the lake. But the +sixth was a weakling. He had been hurt, by a hawk perhaps, or a big +trout, or a mink; or he had swallowed a bone; or maybe he was just a +weak little fellow with no accounting for it. Whenever the brood were +startled, he struggled bravely a little while to keep up; then he +always fell behind. The mother would come back, and urge, and help +him; but it was of little use. He was not strong enough; and the last +glimpse I always had of them was a foamy wake disappearing round a +distant point, while far in the rear was a ripple where the little +fellow still paddled away, doing his best pathetically. + +[Illustration] + +One afternoon the canoe glided round a point and ran almost up to the +brood before they saw it, giving them a terrible fright. Away they +went on the instant, _putter, putter, putter_, lifting themselves +almost out of water with the swift-moving feet and tiny wings. The +mother bird took wing, returned and crossed the bow of the canoe, back +and forth, with loud quackings. The weakling was behind as usual; and +in a sudden spirit of curiosity or perversity--for I really had a good +deal of sympathy for the little fellow--I shot the canoe forward, +almost up to him. He tried to dive; got tangled in a lily stem in his +fright; came up, flashed under again; and I saw him come up ten feet +away in some grass, where he sat motionless and almost invisible amid +the pads and yellow stems. + +How frightened he was! Yet how still he sat! Whenever I took my eyes +from him a moment I had to hunt again, sometimes two or three minutes, +before I could see him there. + +Meanwhile the brood went almost to the opposite shore before they +stopped, and the mother, satisfied at last by my quietness, flew over +and lit among them. She had not seen the little one. Through the glass +I saw her flutter round and round them, to be quite sure they were all +there. Then she missed him. I could see it all in her movements. She +must have clucked, I think, for the young suddenly disappeared, and +she came swimming rapidly back over the way they had come, looking, +looking everywhere. Round the canoe she went at a safe distance, +searching among the grass and lily pads, calling him softly to come +out. But he was very near the canoe, and very much frightened; the +only effect of her calls was to make him crouch closer against the +grass stems, while the bright little eyes, grown large with fear, were +fastened on me. + +Slowly I backed the canoe away till it was out of sight around the +point, though I could still see the mother bird through the bushes. +She swam rapidly about where the canoe had been, calling more loudly; +but the little fellow had lost confidence in her, or was too +frightened, and refused to show himself. At last she discovered him, +and with quacks and flutters that looked to me a bit hysteric pulled +him out of his hiding place. How she fussed over him! How she hurried +and helped and praised and scolded him all the way over; and fluttered +on ahead, and clucked the brood out of their hiding places to meet +him! Then, with all her young about her, she swept round the point +into the quiet bay that was their training school. + +And I, drifting slowly up the lake into the sunset over the glassy +water, was thinking how human it all was. "Doth he not leave the +ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, +until he find it?" + + + + +III. QUEER WAYS OF BR'ER RABBIT. + + +[Illustration] + +Br'er Rabbit is a funny fellow. No wonder that Uncle Remus makes him +the hero of so many adventures! Uncle Remus had watched him, no doubt, +on some moonlight night when he gathered his boon companions together +for a frolic. In the heart of the woods it was, in a little opening +where the moonlight came streaming in through the pines, making soft +gray shadows for hide-and-seek, and where no prowling fox ever dreamed +of looking. + +With most of us, I fear, the acquaintance with Bunny is too limited +for us to appreciate his frolicsome ways and his happy, fun-loving +disposition. The tame things which we sometimes see about country +yards are often stupid, like a playful kitten spoiled by too much +handling; and the flying glimpse we sometimes get of a bundle of brown +fur, scurrying helter-skelter through and over the huckleberry bushes, +generally leaves us staring in astonishment at the swaying leaves +where it disappeared, and wondering curiously what it was all about. +It was only a brown rabbit that you almost stepped upon in your +autumn walk through the woods. + +Look under the crimson sumach yonder, there in the bit of brown grass, +with the purple asters hanging over, and you will find his form, where +he has been sitting all the morning and where he watched you all the +way up the hill. But you need not follow; you will not find him again. +He never runs straight; the swaying leaves there where he disappeared +mark the beginning of his turn, whether to right or left you will +never know. Now he has come around his circle and is near you +again--watching you this minute, out of his bit of brown grass. As you +move slowly away in the direction he took, peering here and there +among the bushes, Bunny behind you sits up straight in his old form +again, with his little paws held very prim, his long ears pointed +after you, and his deep brown eyes shining like the waters of a hidden +spring among the asters. And he chuckles to himself, and thinks how he +fooled you that time, sure. + +To see Br'er Rabbit at his best, that is, at his own playful comical +self, one must turn hunter, and learn how to sit still, and be +patient. Only you must not hunt in the usual way; not by day, for then +Bunny is stowed away in his form on the sunny slope of a southern +hillside, where one's eyes will never find him; not with gun and dog, +for then the keen interest and quick sympathy needed to appreciate any +phase of animal life gives place to the coarser excitement of the +hunt; and not by going about after Bunny, for your heavy footsteps and +the rustle of leaves will only send him scurrying away into safer +solitudes. Find where he loves to meet with his fellows, in quiet +little openings in the woods. There is no mistaking his playground +when once you have found it. Go there by moonlight and, sitting still +in the shadow, let your game find you, or pass by without suspicion; +for this is the best way to hunt, whether one is after game or only a +better knowledge of the ways of bird and beast. + +The very best spot I ever found for watching Bunny's ways was on the +shore of a lonely lake in the heart of a New Brunswick forest. I +hardly think that he was any different there, for I have seen some of +his pranks repeated within sight of a busy New England town; but he +was certainly more natural. He had never seen a man before, and he was +as curious about it as a blue jay. No dog's voice had ever wakened the +echoes within fifty miles; but every sound of the wilderness he seemed +to know a thousand times better than I. The snapping of the smallest +stick under the stealthy tread of fox or wildcat would send him +scurrying out of sight in wild alarm; yet I watched a dozen of them +at play one night when a frightened moose went crashing through the +underbrush and plunged into the lake near by, and they did not seem to +mind it in the least. + +The spot referred to was the only camping ground on the lake; so +Simmo, my Indian guide, assured me; and he knew very well. I +discovered afterward that it was the only cleared bit of land for +miles around; and this the rabbits knew very well. Right in the midst +of their best playground I pitched my tent, while Simmo built his +lean-to near by, in another little opening. We were tired that night, +after a long day's paddle in the sunshine on the river. The +after-supper chat before the camp fire--generally the most delightful +bit of the whole day, and prolonged as far as possible--was short and +sleepy; and we left the lonely woods to the bats and owls and creeping +things, and turned in for the night. + +I was just asleep when I was startled by a loud thump twice repeated, +as if a man stamped on the ground, or, as I thought at the time, just +like the thump a bear gives an old log with his paw, to see if it is +hollow and contains any insects. I was wide awake in a moment, sitting +up straight to listen. A few minutes passed by in intense stillness; +then, _thump! thump! thump!_ just outside the tent among the ferns. + +I crept slowly out; but beyond a slight rustle as my head appeared +outside the tent I heard nothing, though I waited several minutes and +searched about among the underbrush. But no sooner was I back in the +tent and quiet than there it was again, and repeated three or four +times, now here, now there, within the next ten minutes. I crept out +again, with no better success than before. + +This time, however, I would find out about that mysterious noise +before going back. It isn't so pleasant to go to sleep until one knows +what things are prowling about, especially things that make a noise +like that. A new moon was shining down into the little clearing, +giving hardly enough light to make out the outlines of the great +evergreens. Down among the ferns things were all black and uniform. +For ten minutes I stood there in the shadow of a big spruce and +waited. Then the silence was broken by a sudden heavy thump in the +bushes just behind me. I was startled, and wheeled on the instant; as +I did so, some small animal scurried away into the underbrush. + +For a moment I was puzzled. Then it flashed upon me that I was camped +upon the rabbits' playground. With the thought came a strong suspicion +that Bunny was fooling me. + +Going back to the fire, I raked the coals together and threw on some +fresh fuel. Next I fastened a large piece of birch bark on two split +sticks behind the fireplace; then I sat down on an old log to wait. +The rude reflector did very well as the fire burned up. Out in front +the fern tops were dimly lighted to the edge of the clearing. As I +watched, a dark form shot suddenly above the ferns and dropped back +again. Three heavy thumps followed; then the form shot up and down +once more. This time there was no mistake. In the firelight I saw +plainly the dangle of Br'er Rabbit's long legs, and the flap of his +big ears, and the quick flash of his dark eyes in the reflected +light,--got an instantaneous photograph of him, as it were, at the top +of his comical jump. + +I sat there nearly an hour before the why and the how of the little +joker's actions became quite clear. This is what happens in such a +case. Bunny comes down from the ridge for his nightly frolic in the +little clearing. While still in the ferns the big white object, +standing motionless in the middle of his playground, catches his +attention; and very much surprised, and very much frightened, but +still very curious, he crouches down close to wait and listen. But the +strange thing does not move nor see him. To get a better view he leaps +up high above the ferns two or three times. Still the big thing +remains quite still and harmless. "Now," thinks Bunny, "I'll frighten +him, and find out what he is." Leaping high he strikes the ground +sharply two or three times with his padded hind foot; then jumps up +quickly again to see the effect of his scare. Once he succeeded very +well, when he crept up close behind me, so close that he didn't have +to spring up to see the effect. I fancy him chuckling to himself as he +scurried off after my sudden start. + +That was the first time that I ever heard Bunny's challenge. It +impressed me at the time as one of his most curious pranks; the sound +was so big and heavy for such a little fellow. Since then I have heard +it frequently; and now sometimes when I stand at night in the forest +and hear a sudden heavy thump in the underbrush, as if a big moose +were striking the ground and shaking his antlers at me, it doesn't +startle me in the least. It is only Br'er Rabbit trying to frighten +me. + +The next night Bunny played us another trick. Before Simmo went to +sleep he always took off his blue overalls and put them under his head +for a pillow. That was only one of Simmo's queer ways. While he was +asleep the rabbits came into his little _commoosie_, dragged the +overalls out from under his head, and nibbled them full of holes. Not +content with this, they played with them all night; pulled them around +the clearing, as threads here and there plainly showed; then dragged +them away into the underbrush and left them. + +Simmo's wrath when he at last found the precious garments was comical +to behold; when he wore them with their new polka-dot pattern, it was +still more comical. Why the rabbits did it I could never quite make +out. The overalls were very dirty, very much stained with everything +from a clean trout to tobacco crumbs; and, as there was nothing about +them for a rabbit to eat, we concluded that it was just one of Br'er +Rabbit's pranks. That night Simmo, to avenge his overalls, set a +deadfall supported by a piece of cord, which he had soaked in molasses +and salt. Which meant that Bunny would nibble the cord for the salt +that was in it, and bring the log down hard on his own back. So I had +to spring it, while Simmo slept, to save the little fellow's life and +learn more about him. + +Up on the ridge above our tent was a third tiny clearing, where some +trappers had once made their winter camp. It was there that I watched +the rabbits one moonlight night from my seat on an old log, just +within the shadow at the edge of the opening. The first arrival came +in with a rush. There was a sudden scurry behind me, and over the log +he came with a flying leap that landed him on the smooth bit of ground +in the middle, where he whirled around and around with grotesque +jumps, like a kitten after its tail. Only Br'er Rabbit's tail was too +short for him ever to catch it; he seemed rather to be trying to get a +good look at it. Then he went off helter-skelter in a headlong rush +through the ferns. Before I knew what had become of him, over the log +he came again in a marvelous jump, and went tearing around the +clearing like a circus horse, varying his performance now by a high +leap, now by two or three awkward hops on his hind legs, like a +dancing bear. It was immensely entertaining. + +The third time around he discovered me in the midst of one of his +antics. He was so surprised that he fell down. In a second he was up +again, sitting up very straight on his haunches just in front of me, +paws crossed, ears erect, eyes shining in fear and curiosity. "Who are +you?" he was saying, as plainly as ever rabbit said it. Without moving +a muscle I tried to tell him, and also that he need not be afraid. +Perhaps he began to understand, for he turned his head on one side, +just as a dog does when you talk to him. But he wasn't quite +satisfied. "I'll try my scare on him," he thought; and _thump! thump! +thump!_ sounded his padded hind foot on the soft ground. It almost +made me start again, it sounded so big in the dead stillness. This +last test quite convinced him that I was harmless, and, after a +moment's watching, away he went in some astonishing jumps into the +forest. + +A few minutes passed by in quiet waiting before he was back again, +this time with two or three companions. I have no doubt that he had +been watching me all the time, for I heard his challenge in the brush +just behind my log. The fun now began to grow lively. Around and +around they went, here, there, everywhere,--the woods seemed full of +rabbits, they scurried around so. Every few minutes the number +increased, as some new arrival came flying in and gyrated around like +a brown fur pinwheel. They leaped over everything in the clearing; +they leaped over each other as if playing leap-frog; they vied with +each other in the high jump. Sometimes they gathered together in the +middle of the open space and crept about close to the ground, in and +out and roundabout, like a game of fox and geese. Then they rose on +their hind legs and hopped slowly about in all the dignity of a +minuet. Right in the midst of the solemn affair some mischievous +fellow gave a squeak and a big jump; and away they all went +hurry-skurry, for all the world like a lot of boys turned loose for +recess. In a minute they were back again, quiet and sedate, and solemn +as bull-frogs. Were they chasing and chastising the mischief-maker, or +was it only the overflow of abundant spirits as the top of a kettle +blows off when the pressure below becomes resistless? + +[Illustration] + +Many of the rabbits saw me, I am sure, for they sometimes gave a high +jump over my foot; and one came close up beside it, and sat up +straight with his head on one side, to look me over. Perhaps it was +the first comer, for he did not try his scare again. Like most wild +creatures, they have very little fear of an object that remains +motionless at their first approach and challenge. + +Once there was a curious performance over across the clearing. I could +not see it very plainly, but it looked very much like a boxing match. +A queer sound, _put-a-put-a-put-a-put_, first drew my attention to it. +Two rabbits were at the edge of the ferns, standing up on their hind +legs, face to face, and apparently cuffing each other soundly, while +they hopped slowly around and around in a circle. I could not see the +blows but only the boxing attitude, and hear the sounds as they landed +on each other's ribs. The other rabbits did not seem to mind it, as +they would have done had it been a fight, but stopped occasionally to +watch the two, and then went on with their fun-making. Since then I +have read of tame hares that did the same thing, but I have never seen +it. + +At another time the rabbits were gathered together in the very midst +of some quiet fun, when they leaped aside suddenly and disappeared +among the ferns as if by magic. The next instant a dark shadow swept +across the opening, almost into my face, and wheeled out of sight +among the evergreens. It was Kookoo-skoos, the big brown owl, coursing +the woods on his nightly hunt after the very rabbits that were +crouched motionless beneath him as he passed. But how did they learn, +all at once, of the coming of an enemy whose march is noiseless as the +sweep of a shadow? And did they all hide so well that he never +suspected that they were about, or did he see the ferns wave as the +last one disappeared, but was afraid to come back after seeing me? +Perhaps Br'er Rabbit was well repaid that time for his confidence. + +They soon came back again, as I think they would not have done had it +been a natural opening. Had it been one of Nature's own sunny spots, +the owl would have swept back and forth across it; for he knows the +rabbits' ways as well as they know his. But hawks and owls avoid a +spot like this, that men have cleared. If they cross it once in search +of prey, they seldom return. Wherever man camps, he leaves something +of himself behind; and the fierce birds and beasts of the woods fear +it, and shun it. It is only the innocent things, singing birds, and +fun-loving rabbits, and harmless little wood-mice--shy, defenseless +creatures all--that take possession of man's abandoned quarters, and +enjoy his protection. Bunny knows this, I think; and so there is no +other place in the woods that he loves so well as an old camping +ground. + +The play was soon over; for it is only in the early part of the +evening, when Br'er Rabbit first comes out after sitting still in his +form all day, that he gives himself up to fun, like a boy out of +school. If one may judge, however, from the looks of Simmo's overalls, +and from the number of times he woke me by scurrying around my tent, I +suspect that he is never too serious and never too busy for a joke. It +is a way he has of brightening the more sober times of getting his own +living, and keeping a sharp lookout for cats and owls and prowling +foxes. + +Gradually the playground was deserted, as the rabbits slipped off one +by one to hunt their supper. Now and then there was a scamper among +the underbrush, and a high jump or two, with which some playful bunny +enlivened his search for tender twigs; and at times one, more curious +than the rest, came hopping along to sit erect a moment before the old +log, and look to see if the strange animal were still there. But soon +the old log was vacant too. Out in the swamp a disappointed owl sat on +his lonely stub that lightning had blasted, and hooted that he was +hungry. The moon looked down into the little clearing with its waving +ferns and soft gray shadows, and saw nothing there to suggest that it +was the rabbits' nursery. + +Down at the camp a new surprise was awaiting me. Br'er Rabbit was +under the tent fly, tugging away at the salt bag which I had left +there carelessly after curing a bearskin. While he was absorbed in +getting it out from under the rubber blanket, I crept up on hands and +knees, and stroked him once from ears to tail. He jumped straight up +with a startled squeak, whirled in the air, and came down facing me. +So we remained for a full moment, our faces scarcely two feet apart, +looking into each other's eyes. Then he thumped the earth soundly with +his left hind foot, to show that he was not afraid, and scurried under +the fly and through the brakes in a half circle to a bush at my heels, +where he sat up straight in the shadow to watch me. + +But I had seen enough for one night. I left a generous pinch of salt +where he could find it easily, and crept in to sleep, leaving him to +his own ample devices. + + + + +IV. A WILD DUCK. + + +[Illustration] + +The title will suggest to most boys a line across the autumn sky at +sunset, with a bit of mystery about it; or else a dark triangle moving +southward, high and swift, at Thanksgiving time. To a few, who know +well the woods and fields about their homes, it may suggest a lonely +little pond, with a dark bird rising swiftly, far out of reach, +leaving the ripples playing among the sedges. To those accustomed to +look sharply it will suggest five or six more birds, downy little +fellows, hiding safe among roots and grasses, so still that one seldom +suspects their presence. But the duck, like most game birds, loves +solitude; the details of his life he keeps very closely to himself; +and boys must be content with occasional glimpses. + +This is especially true of the dusky duck, more generally known by the +name black duck among hunters. He is indeed a wild duck, so wild that +one must study him with a gun, and study him long before he knows much +about him. An ordinary tramp with a field-glass and eyes wide open +may give a rare, distant view of him; but only as one follows him as a +sportsman winter after winter, meeting with much less of success than +of discouragement, does he pick up many details of his personal life; +for wildness is born in him, and no experience with man is needed to +develop it. On the lonely lakes in the midst of a Canada forest, where +he meets man perhaps for the first time, he is the same as when he +builds at the head of some mill pond within sight of a busy New +England town. Other ducks may in time be tamed and used as decoys; but +not so he. Several times I have tried it with wing-tipped birds; but +the result was always the same. They worked night and day to escape, +refusing all food and even water till they broke through their pen, or +were dying of hunger, when I let them go. + +One spring a farmer, with whom I sometimes go shooting, determined to +try with young birds. He found a black duck's nest in a dense swamp +near a salt creek, and hatched the eggs with some others under a tame +duck. Every time he approached the pen the little things skulked away +and hid; nor could they be induced to show themselves, although their +tame companions were feeding and running about, quite contented. After +two weeks, when he thought them somewhat accustomed to their +surroundings, he let the whole brood go down to the shore just below +his house. The moment they were free the wild birds scurried away into +the water-grass out of sight, and no amount of anxious quacking on the +part of the mother duck could bring them back into captivity. He never +saw them again. + +This habit which the young birds have of skulking away out of sight is +a measure of protection that they constantly practise. A brood may be +seen on almost any secluded pond or lake in New England, where the +birds come in the early spring to build their nests. Watching from +some hidden spot on the shore, one sees them diving and swimming +about, hunting for food everywhere in the greatest freedom. The next +moment they scatter and disappear so suddenly that one almost rubs his +eyes to make sure that the birds are really gone. If he is near +enough, which is not likely unless he is very careful, he has heard a +low cluck from the old bird, which now sits with neck standing +straight up out of the water, so still as to be easily mistaken for +one of the old stumps or bogs among which they are feeding. She is +looking about to see if the ducklings are all well hidden. After a +moment there is another cluck, very much like the other, and downy +little fellows come bobbing out of the grass, or from close beside the +stumps where you looked a moment before and saw nothing. This is +repeated at frequent intervals, the object being, apparently, to +accustom the young birds to hide instantly when danger approaches. + +So watchful is the old bird, however, that trouble rarely threatens +without her knowledge. When the young are well hidden at the first +sign of the enemy, she takes wing and leaves them, returning when +danger is over to find them still crouching motionless in their hiding +places. When surprised she acts like other game birds,--flutters along +with a great splashing, trailing one wing as if wounded, till she has +led you away from the young, or occupied your attention long enough +for them to be safely hidden; then she takes wing and leaves you. + +The habit of hiding becomes so fixed with the young birds that they +trust to it long after the wings have grown and they are able to +escape by flight. Sometimes in the early autumn I have run the bow of +my canoe almost over a full-grown bird, lying hidden in a clump of +grass, before he sprang into the air and away. A month later, in the +same place, the canoe could hardly approach within a quarter of a mile +without his taking alarm. + +Once they have learned to trust their wings, they give up hiding for +swift flight. But they never forget their early training, and when +wounded hide with a cunning that is remarkable. Unless one has a good +dog it is almost useless to look for a wounded duck, if there is any +cover to be reached. Hiding under a bank, crawling into a muskrat +hole, worming a way under a bunch of dead grass or pile of leaves, +swimming around and around a clump of bushes just out of sight of his +pursuer, diving and coming up behind a tuft of grass,--these are some +of the ways by which I have known a black duck try to escape. Twice I +have heard from old hunters of their finding a bird clinging to a +bunch of grass under water, though I have never seen it. Once, from a +blind, I saw a black duck swim ashore and disappear into a small clump +of berry bushes. Karl, who was with me, ran over to get him, but after +a half-hour's search gave it up. Then I tried, and gave it up also. An +hour later we saw the bird come out of the very place where we had +been searching, and enter the water. Karl ran out, shouting, and the +bird hid in the bushes again. Again we hunted the clump over and over, +but no duck could be seen. We were turning away a second time when +Karl cried: "Look!"--and there, in plain sight, by the very white +stone where I had seen him disappear, was the duck, or rather the red +leg of a duck, sticking out of a tangle of black roots. + +With the first sharp frost that threatens to ice over the ponds in +which they have passed the summer, the inland birds betake themselves +to the seacoast, where there is more or less migration all winter. +The great body of ducks moves slowly southward as the winter grows +severe; but if food is plenty they winter all along the coast. It is +then that they may be studied to the best advantage. + +During the daytime they are stowed away in quiet little ponds and +hiding places, or resting in large flocks on the shoals well out of +reach of land and danger. When possible, they choose the former, +because it gives them an abundance of fresh water, which is a daily +necessity; and because, unlike the coots which are often found in +great numbers on the same shoals, they dislike tossing about on the +waves for any length of time. But late in the autumn they desert the +ponds and are seldom seen there again until spring, even though the +ponds are open. They are very shy about being frozen in or getting ice +on their feathers, and prefer to get their fresh water at the mouths +of creeks and springs. + +With all their caution,--and they are very good weather prophets, +knowing the times of tides and the approach of storms, as well as the +days when fresh water freezes,--they sometimes get caught. Once I +found a flock of five in great distress, frozen into the thin ice +while sleeping, no doubt, with heads tucked under their wings. At +another time I found a single bird floundering about with a big lump +of ice and mud attached to his tail. He had probably found the +insects plentiful in some bit of soft mud at low tide, and stayed +there too long with the thermometer at zero. + +Night is their feeding time; on the seacoast they fly in to the +feeding grounds just at dusk. Fog bewilders them, and no bird likes to +fly in rain, because it makes the feathers heavy; so on foggy or rainy +afternoons they come in early, or not at all. The favorite feeding +ground is a salt marsh, with springs and creeks of brackish water. +Seeds, roots, tender grasses, and snails and insects in the mud left +by the low tide are their usual winter food. When these grow scarce +they betake themselves to the mussel beds with the coots; their flesh +in consequence becomes strong and fishy. + +When the first birds come in to the feeding grounds before dark, they +do it with the greatest caution, examining not only the little pond or +creek, but the whole neighborhood before lighting. The birds that +follow trust to the inspection of these first comers, and generally +fly straight in. For this reason it is well for one who attempts to +see them at this time to have live decoys and, if possible, to have +his blind built several days in advance, in order that the birds which +may have been feeding in the place shall see no unusual object when +they come in. If the blind be newly built, only the stranger birds +will fly straight in to his decoys. Those that have been there before +will either turn away in alarm, or else examine the blind very +cautiously on all sides. If you know now how to wait and sit perfectly +still, the birds will at last fly directly over the stand to look in. +That is your only chance; and you must take it quickly if you expect +to eat duck for dinner. + +By moonlight one may sit on the bank in plain sight of his decoys, and +watch the wild birds as long as he will. It is necessary only to sit +perfectly still. But this is unsatisfactory; you can never see just +what they are doing. Once I had thirty or forty close about me in this +way. A sudden turn of my head, when a bat struck my cheek, sent them +all off in a panic to the open ocean. + +A curious thing frequently noticed about these birds as they come in +at night is their power to make their wings noisy or almost silent at +will. Sometimes the rustle is so slight that, unless the air is +perfectly still, it is scarcely audible; at other times it is a strong +_wish-wish_ that can be heard two hundred yards away. The only theory +I can suggest is that it is done as a kind of signal. In the daytime +and on bright evenings one seldom hears it; on dark nights it is very +frequent, and is always answered by the quacking of birds already on +the feeding grounds, probably to guide the incomers. How they do it +is uncertain; it is probably in some such way as the night-hawk makes +his curious booming sound,--not by means of his open mouth, as is +generally supposed, but by slightly turning the wing quills so that +the air sets them vibrating. One can test this, if he will, by blowing +on any stiff feather. + +On stormy days the birds, instead of resting on the shoals, light near +some lonely part of the beach and, after watching carefully for an +hour or two, to be sure that no danger is near, swim ashore and +collect in great bunches in some sheltered spot under a bank. It is +indeed a tempting sight to see perhaps a hundred of the splendid birds +gathered close together on the shore, the greater part with heads +tucked under their wings, fast asleep; but if you are to surprise +them, you must turn snake and crawl, and learn patience. Scattered +along the beach on either side are single birds or small bunches +evidently acting as sentinels. The crows and gulls are flying +continually along the tide line after food; and invariably as they +pass over one of these bunches of ducks they rise in the air to look +around over all the bank. You must be well hidden to escape those +bright eyes. The ducks understand crow and gull talk perfectly, and +trust largely to these friendly sentinels. The gulls scream and the +crows caw all day long, and not a duck takes his head from under his +wing; but the instant either crow or gull utters his danger note every +duck is in the air and headed straight off shore. + +The constant watchfulness of black ducks is perhaps the most +remarkable thing about them. When feeding at night in some lonely +marsh, or hidden away by day deep in the heart of the swamps, they +never for a moment seem to lay aside their alertness, nor trust to +their hiding places alone for protection. Even when lying fast asleep +among the grasses with heads tucked under their wings, there is a +nervous vigilance in their very attitudes which suggests a sense of +danger. Generally one has to content himself with studying them +through a glass; but once I had a very good opportunity of watching +them close at hand, of outwitting them, as it were, at their own game +of hide-and-seek. It was in a grassy little pond, shut in by high +hills, on the open moors of Nantucket. The pond was in the middle of a +plain, perhaps a hundred yards from the nearest hill. No tree or rock +or bush offered any concealment to an enemy; the ducks could sleep +there as sure of detecting the approach of danger as if on the open +ocean. + +One autumn day I passed the place and, looking cautiously over the top +of a hill, saw a single black duck swim out of the water-grass at the +edge of the pond. The fresh breeze in my face induced me to try to +creep down close to the edge of the pond, to see if it were possible +to surprise birds there, should I find any on my next hunting trip. +Just below me, at the foot of the hill, was a swampy run leading +toward the pond, with grass nearly a foot high growing along its edge. +I must reach that if possible. + +After a few minutes of watching, the duck went into the grass again, +and I started to creep down the hill, keeping my eyes intently on the +pond. Halfway down, another duck appeared, and I dropped flat on the +hillside in plain sight. Of course the duck noticed the unusual +object. There was a commotion in the grass; heads came up here and +there. The next moment, to my great astonishment, fully fifty black +ducks were swimming about in the greatest uneasiness. + +I lay very still and watched. Five minutes passed; then quite suddenly +all motion ceased in the pond; every duck sat with neck standing +straight up from the water, looking directly at me. So still were they +that one could easily have mistaken them for stumps or peat bogs. +After a few minutes of this kind of watching they seemed satisfied, +and glided back, a few at a time, into the grass. + +When all were gone I rolled down the hill and gained the run, getting +soaking wet as I splashed into it. Then it was easier to advance +without being discovered; for whenever a duck came out to look +round--which happened almost every minute at first--I could drop into +the grass and be out of sight. + +In half an hour I had gained the edge of a low bank, well covered by +coarse water-grass. Carefully pushing this aside, I looked through, +and almost held my breath, they were so near. Just below me, within +six feet, was a big drake, with head drawn down so close to his body +that I wondered what he had done with his neck. His eyes were closed; +he was fast asleep. In front of him were eight or ten more ducks close +together, all with heads under their wings. Scattered about in the +grass everywhere were small groups, sleeping, or pluming their glossy +dark feathers. + +Beside the pleasure of watching them, the first black ducks that I had +ever seen unconscious, there was the satisfaction of thinking how +completely they had been outwitted at their own game of sharp +watching. How they would have jumped had they only known what was +lying there in the grass so near their hiding place! At first, every +time I saw a pair of little black eyes wink, or a head come from under +a wing, I felt myself shrinking close together in the thought that I +was discovered; but that wore off after a time, when I found that the +eyes winked rather sleepily, and the necks were taken out just to +stretch them, much as one would take a comfortable yawn. + +[Illustration] + +Once I was caught squarely, but the grass and my being so near saved +me. I had raised my head and lay with chin in my hands, deeply +interested in watching a young duck making a most elaborate toilet, +when from the other side an old bird shot suddenly into the open water +and saw me as I dropped out of sight. There was a low, sharp quack +which brought every duck out of his hiding, wide awake on the instant. +At first they all bunched together at the farther side, looking +straight at the bank where I lay. Probably they saw my feet, which +were outside the covert as I lay full length. Then they drew gradually +nearer till they were again within the fringe of water-grass. Some of +them sat quite up on their tails by a vigorous use of their wings, and +stretched their necks to look over the low bank. Just keeping still +saved me. In five minutes they were quiet again; even the young duck +seemed to have forgotten her vanity and gone to sleep with the others. + +Two or three hours I lay thus and watched them through the grass, +spying very rudely, no doubt, into the seclusion of their home life. +As the long shadow of the western hill stretched across the pool till +it darkened the eastern bank, the ducks awoke one by one from their +nap, and began to stir about in preparation for departure. Soon they +were collected at the center of the open water, where they sat for a +moment very still, heads up, and ready. If there was any signal given +I did not hear it. At the same moment each pair of wings struck the +water with a sharp splash, and they shot straight up in that +remarkable way of theirs, as if thrown by a strong spring. An instant +they seemed to hang motionless in the air high above the water, then +they turned and disappeared swiftly over the eastern hill toward the +marshes. + + + + +V. AN ORIOLE'S NEST. + + +[Illustration] + +How suggestive it is, swinging there through sunlight and shadow from +the long drooping tips of the old elm boughs! And what a delightful +cradle for the young orioles, swayed all day long by every breath of +the summer breeze, peeping through chinks as the world sweeps by, +watching with bright eyes the boy below who looks up in vain, or the +mountain of hay that brushes them in passing, and whistling cheerily, +blow high or low, with never a fear of falling! The mother bird must +feel very comfortable about it as she goes off caterpillar hunting, +for no bird enemy can trouble the little ones while she is gone. The +black snake, that horror of all low-nesting birds, will never climb so +high. The red squirrel--little wretch that he is, to eat young birds +when he has still a bushel of corn and nuts in his old wall--cannot +find a footing on those delicate branches. Neither can the crow find a +resting place from which to steal the young; and the hawk's legs are +not long enough to reach down and grasp them, should he perchance +venture near the house and hover an instant over the nest. + +Besides all this, the oriole is a neighborly little body; and that +helps her. Though the young are kept from harm anywhere by the cunning +instinct which builds a hanging nest, she still prefers to build near +the house, where hawks and crows and owls rarely come. She knows her +friends and takes advantage of their protection, returning year after +year to the same old elm, and, like a thrifty little housewife, +carefully saving and sorting the good threads of her storm-wrecked old +house to be used in building the new. + +Of late years, however, it has seemed to me that the pretty nests on +the secluded streets of New England towns are growing scarcer. The +orioles are peace-loving birds, and dislike the society of those +noisy, pugnacious little rascals, the English sparrows, which have of +late taken possession of our streets. Often now I find the nests far +away from any house, on lonely roads where a few years ago they were +rarely seen. Sometimes also a solitary farmhouse, too far from the +town to be much visited by sparrows, has two or three nests swinging +about it in its old elms, where formerly there was but one. + +It is an interesting evidence of the bird's keen instinct that where +nests are built on lonely roads and away from houses they are +noticeably deeper, and so better protected from bird enemies. The same +thing is sometimes noticed of nests built in maple or apple trees, +which are without the protection of drooping branches, upon which +birds of prey can find no footing. Some wise birds secure the same +protection by simply contracting the neck of the nest, instead of +building a deep one. Young birds building their first nests seem +afraid to trust in the strength of their own weaving. Their nests are +invariably shallow, and so suffer most from birds of prey. + +In the choice of building material the birds are very careful. They +know well that no branch supports the nest from beneath; that the +safety of the young orioles depends on good, strong material well +woven together. In some wise way they seem to know at a glance whether +a thread is strong enough to be trusted; but sometimes, in selecting +the first threads that are to bear the whole weight of the nest, they +are unwilling to trust to appearances. At such times a pair of birds +may be seen holding a little tug-of-war, with feet braced, shaking and +pulling the thread like a pair of terriers, till it is well tested. + +It is in gathering and testing the materials for a nest that the +orioles display no little ingenuity. One day, a few years ago, I was +lying under some shrubs, watching a pair of the birds that were +building close to the house. It was a typical nest-making day, the +sun pouring his bright rays through delicate green leaves and a glory +of white apple blossoms, the air filled with warmth and fragrance, +birds and bees busy everywhere. Orioles seem always happy; to-day they +quite overflowed in the midst of all the brightness, though materials +were scarce and they must needs be diligent. + +The female was very industrious, never returning to the nest without +some contribution, while the male frolicked about the trees in his +brilliant orange and black, whistling his warm rich notes, and seeming +like a dash of southern sunshine amidst the blossoms. Sometimes he +stopped in his frolic to find a bit of string, over which he raised an +impromptu _jubilate_, or to fly with his mate to the nest, uttering +that soft rich twitter of his in a mixture of blarney and +congratulation whenever she found some particularly choice material. +But his chief part seemed to be to furnish the celebration, while she +took care of the nest-making. + +Out in front of me, under the lee of the old wall whither some +line-stripping gale had blown it, was a torn fragment of cloth with +loose threads showing everywhere. I was wondering why the birds did +not utilize it, when the male, in one of his lively flights, +discovered it and flew down. First he hopped all around it; next he +tried some threads; but, as the cloth was lying loose on the grass, +the whole piece came whenever he pulled. For a few moments he worked +diligently, trying a pull on each side in succession. Once he tumbled +end over end in a comical scramble, as the fragment caught on a grass +stub but gave way when he had braced himself and was pulling hardest. +Quite abruptly he flew off, and I thought he had given up the attempt. + +In a minute he was back with his mate, thinking, no doubt, that she, +as a capable little manager, would know all about such things. If +birds do not talk, they have at least some very ingenious ways of +letting one another know what they think, which amounts to the same +thing. + +The two worked together for some minutes, getting an occasional +thread, but not enough to pay for the labor. The trouble was that both +pulled together on the same side; and so they merely dragged the bit +of cloth all over the lawn, instead of pulling out the threads they +wanted. Once they unraveled a long thread by pulling at right angles, +but the next moment they were together on the same side again. The +male seemed to do, not as he was told, but exactly what he saw his +mate do. Whenever she pulled at a thread, he hopped around, as close +to her as he could get, and pulled too. + +[Illustration:] + +Twice they had given up the attempt, only to return after hunting +diligently elsewhere. Good material was scarce that season. I was +wondering how long their patience would last, when the female suddenly +seized the cloth by a corner and flew along close to the ground, +dragging it after her, chirping loudly the while. She disappeared into +a crab-apple tree in a corner of the garden, whither the male followed +her a moment later. + +Curious as to what they were doing, yet fearing to disturb them, I +waited where I was till I saw both birds fly to the nest, each with +some long threads. This was repeated; and then curiosity got the +better of consideration. While the orioles were weaving the last +threads into their nest, I ran round the house, crept a long way +behind the old wall, and so to a safe hiding place near the +crab-apple. + +The orioles had solved their problem; the bit of cloth was fastened +there securely among the thorns. Soon the birds came back and, seizing +some threads by the ends, raveled them out without difficulty. It was +the work of but a moment to gather as much material as they could use +at one weaving. For an hour or more I watched them working +industriously between the crab-apple and the old elm, where the nest +was growing rapidly to a beautiful depth. Several times the bit of +cloth slipped from the thorns as the birds pulled upon it; but as +often as it did they carried it back and fastened it more securely, +till at last it grew so snarled that they could get no more long +threads, when they left it for good. + +That same day I carried out some bright-colored bits of worsted and +ribbon, and scattered them on the grass. The birds soon found them and +used them in completing their nest. For a while a gayer little +dwelling was never seen in a tree. The bright bits of color in the +soft gray of the walls gave the nest always a holiday appearance, in +good keeping with the high spirits of the orioles. But by the time the +young had chipped the shell, and the joyousness of nest-building had +given place to the constant duties of filling hungry little mouths, +the rains and the sun of summer had bleached the bright colors to a +uniform sober gray. + +That was a happy family from beginning to end. No accident ever befell +it; no enemy disturbed its peace. And when the young birds had flown +away to the South, I took down the nest which I had helped to build, +and hung it in my study as a souvenir of my bright little neighbors. + + + + +VI. THE BUILDERS. + + +[Illustration] + +A curious bit of wild life came to me at dusk one day in the +wilderness. It was midwinter, and the snow lay deep. I was sitting +alone on a fallen tree, waiting for the moon to rise so that I could +follow the faint snowshoe track across a barren, three miles, then +through a mile of forest to another trail that led to camp. I had +followed a caribou too far that day, and this was the result--feeling +along my own track by moonlight, with the thermometer sinking rapidly +to the twenty-below-zero point. + +There is scarcely any twilight in the woods; in ten minutes it would +be quite dark; and I was wishing that I had blankets and an axe, so +that I could camp where I was, when a big gray shadow came stealing +towards me through the trees. It was a Canada lynx. My fingers gripped +the rifle hard, and the right mitten seemed to slip off of itself as I +caught the glare of his fierce yellow eyes. + +But the eyes were not looking at me at all. Indeed, he had not noticed +me. He was stealing along, crouched low in the snow, his ears back, +his stub tail twitching nervously, his whole attention fixed tensely +on something beyond me out on the barren. I wanted his beautiful skin; +but I wanted more to find out what he was after; so I kept still and +watched. + +At the edge of the barren he crouched under a dwarf spruce, settled +himself deeper in the snow by a wriggle or two till his feet were well +under him and his balance perfect, and the red fire blazed in his eyes +and his big muscles quivered. Then he hurled himself forward--one, +two, a dozen mighty bounds through flying snow, and he landed with a +screech on the dome of a beaver house. There he jumped about, shaking +an imaginary beaver like a fury, and gave another screech that made +one's spine tingle. That over, he stood very still, looking off over +the beaver roofs that dotted the shore of a little pond there. The +blaze died out of his eyes; a different look crept into them. He put +his nose down to a tiny hole in the mound, the beavers' ventilator, +and took a long sniff, while his whole body seemed to distend with the +warm rich odor that poured up into his hungry nostrils. Then he rolled +his head sadly, and went away. + +Now all that was pure acting. A lynx likes beaver meat better than +anything else; and this fellow had caught some of the colony, no +doubt, in the well-fed autumn days, as they worked on their dam and +houses. Sharp hunger made him remember them as he came through the +wood on his nightly hunt after hares. He knew well that the beavers +were safe; that months of intense cold had made their two-foot mud +walls like granite. But he came, nevertheless, just to pretend he had +caught one, and to remember how good his last full meal smelled when +he ate it in October. + +It was all so boylike, so unexpected there in the heart of the +wilderness, that I quite forgot that I wanted the lynx's skin. I was +hungry too, and went out for a sniff at the ventilator; and it smelled +good. I remembered the time once when I had eaten beaver, and was glad +to get it. I walked about among the houses. On every dome there were +lynx tracks, old and new, and the prints of a blunt nose in the snow. +Evidently he came often to dine on the smell of good dinners. I looked +the way he had gone, and began to be sorry for him. But there were the +beavers, safe and warm and fearless within two feet of me, listening +undoubtedly to the strange steps without. And that was good; for they +are the most interesting creatures in all the wilderness. + +Most of us know the beaver chiefly in a simile. "Working like a +beaver," or "busy as a beaver," is one of those proverbial +expressions that people accept without comment or curiosity. It is +about one-third true, which is a generous proportion of truth for a +proverb. In winter, for five long months at least, he does nothing but +sleep and eat and keep warm. "Lazy as a beaver" is then a good figure. +And summer time--ah! that's just one long holiday, and the beavers are +jolly as grigs, with never a thought of work from morning till night. +When the snow is gone, and the streams are clear, and the twitter of +bird songs meets the beaver's ear as he rises from the dark passage +under water that leads to his house, then he forgets all settled +habits and joins in the general heyday of nature. The well built house +that sheltered him from storm and cold, and defied even the wolverine +to dig its owner out, is deserted for any otter's den or chance hole +in the bank where he may sleep away the sunlight in peace. The great +dam, upon which he toiled so many nights, is left to the mercy of the +freshet or the canoeman's axe; and no plash of falling water through a +break--that sound which in autumn or winter brings the beaver like a +flash--will trouble his wise little head for a moment. + +All the long summer he belongs to the tribe of Ishmael, wandering +through lakes and streams wherever fancy leads him. It is as if he +were bound to see the world after being cooped up in his narrow +quarters all winter. Even the strong family ties, one of the most +characteristic and interesting things in beaver life, are for the time +loosened. Every family group when it breaks up housekeeping in the +spring represents five generations. First, there are the two old +beavers, heads of the family and absolute rulers, who first engineered +the big dam and houses, and have directed repairs for nobody knows how +long. Next in importance are the baby beavers, no bigger than +musquashes, with fur like silk velvet, and eyes always wide open at +the wonders of the first season out; then the one-and two-year-olds, +frisky as boys let loose from school, always in mischief and having to +be looked after, and occasionally nipped; then the three-year-olds, +who presently leave the group and go their separate happy ways in +search of mates. So the long days go by in a kind of careless summer +excursion; and when one sometimes finds their camping ground in his +own summer roving through the wilderness, he looks upon it with +curious sympathy. Fellow campers are they, pitching their tents by +sunny lakes and alder-fringed, trout-haunted brooks, always close to +Nature's heart, and loving the wild, free life much as he does +himself. + +But when the days grow short and chill, and the twitter of warblers +gives place to the _honk_ of passing geese, and wild ducks gather in +the lakes, then the heart of the beaver goes back to his home; and +presently he follows his heart. September finds them gathered about +the old dam again, the older heads filled with plans of repair and new +houses and winter food and many other things. The grown-up males have +brought their mates back to the old home; the females have found their +places in other family groups. It is then that the beaver begins to be +busy. + +His first concern is for a stout dam across the stream that will give +him a good-sized pond and plenty of deep water. To understand this, +one must remember that the beaver intends to shut himself in a kind of +prison all winter. He knows well that he is not safe on land a moment +after the snow falls; that some prowling lucivee or wolverine would +find his tracks and follow him, and that his escape to water would be +cut off by thick ice. So he plans a big claw-proof house with no +entrance save a tunnel in the middle, which leads through the bank to +the bottom of his artificial pond. Once this is frozen over, he cannot +get out till the spring sun sets him free. But he likes a big pond, +that he may exercise a bit under water when he comes down for his +dinner; and a deep pond, that he may feel sure the hardest winter will +never freeze down to his doorway and shut him in. Still more +important, the beaver's food is stored on the bottom; and it would +never do to trust it to shallow water, else some severe winter it +would get frozen into the ice, and the beavers starve in their prison. +Ten to fifteen feet usually satisfies their instinct for safety; but +to get that depth of water, especially on shallow streams, requires a +huge dam and an enormous amount of work, to say nothing of planning. + +Beaver dams are solid structures always, built up of logs, brush, +stones, and driftwood, well knit together by alder poles. One summer, +in canoeing a wild, unknown stream, I met fourteen dams within a space +of five miles. Through two of these my Indian and I broke a passage +with our axes; the others were so solid that it was easier to unload +our canoe and make a portage than to break through. Dams are found +close together like that when a beaver colony has occupied a stream +for years unmolested. The food-wood above the first dam being cut off, +they move down stream; for the beaver always cuts on the banks above +his dam, and lets the current work for him in transportation. +Sometimes, when the banks are such that a pond cannot be made, three +or four dams will be built close together, the back-water of one +reaching up to the one above, like a series of locks on a canal. This +is to keep the colony together, and yet give room for play and +storage. + +There is the greatest difference of opinion as to the intelligence +displayed by the beavers in choosing a site for their dam, one +observer claiming skill, ingenuity, even reason for the beavers; +another claiming a mere instinctive haphazard piling together of +materials anywhere in the stream. I have seen perhaps a hundred +different dams in the wilderness, nearly all of which were well +placed. Occasionally I have found one that looked like a stupid piece +of work--two or three hundred feet of alder brush and gravel across +the widest part of a stream, when, by building just above or below, a +dam one-fourth the length might have given them better water. This +must be said, however, for the builders, that perhaps they found a +better soil for digging their tunnels, or a more convenient spot for +their houses near their own dam; or that they knew what they wanted +better than their critic did. I think undoubtedly the young beavers +often make mistakes, but I think also, from studying a good many dams, +that they profit by disaster, and build better; and that on the whole +their mistakes are not proportionally greater than those of human +builders. + +Sometimes a dam proves a very white elephant on their hands. The site +is not well chosen, or the stream difficult, and the restrained water +pours round the ends of their dam, cutting them away. They build the +dam longer at once; but again the water pours round on its work of +destruction. So they keep on building, an interminable structure, till +the frosts come, and they must cut their wood and tumble their houses +together in a desperate hurry to be ready when the ice closes over +them. + +But on alder streams, where the current is sluggish and the soil soft, +one sometimes finds a wonderfully ingenious device for remedying the +above difficulty. When the dam is built, and the water deep enough for +safety, the beavers dig a canal around one end of the dam to carry off +the surplus water. I know of nothing in all the woods and fields that +brings one closer in thought and sympathy to the little wild folk than +to come across one of these canals, the water pouring safely through +it past the beaver's handiwork, the dam stretching straight and solid +across the stream, and the domed houses rising beyond. + +Once I found where the beavers had utilized man's work. A huge log dam +had been built on a wilderness stream to secure a head of water for +driving logs from the lumber woods. When the pines and fourteen-inch +spruce were all gone, the works were abandoned, and the dam left--with +the gates open, of course. A pair of young beavers, prospecting for a +winter home, found the place and were suited exactly. They rolled a +sunken log across the gates for a foundation, filled them up with +alder bushes and stones, and the work was done. When I found the +place they had a pond a mile wide to play in. Their house was in a +beautiful spot, under a big hemlock; and their doorway slanted off +into twenty feet of water. That site was certainly well chosen. + +Another dam that I found one winter when caribou-hunting was +wonderfully well placed. No engineer could have chosen better. It was +made by the same colony the lynx was after, and just below where he +went through his pantomime for my benefit; his tracks were there too. +The barrens of which I spoke are treeless plains in the northern +forest, the beds of ancient shallow lakes. The beavers found one with +a stream running through it; followed the stream down to the foot of +the barren, where two wooded points came out from either side and +almost met. Here was formerly the outlet; and here the beavers built +their dam, and so made the old lake over again. It must be a +wonderfully fine place in summer--two or three thousand acres of +playground, full of cranberries and luscious roots. In winter it is +too shallow to be of much use, save for a few acres about the beavers' +doorways. + +There are three ways of dam-building in general use among the beavers. +The first is for use on sluggish, alder-fringed streams, where they +can build up from the bottom. Two or three sunken logs form the +foundation, which is from three to five feet broad. Sticks, driftwood, +and stout poles, which the beavers cut on the banks, are piled on this +and weighted with stones and mud. The stones are rolled in from the +bank or moved considerable distances under water. The mud is carried +in the beaver's paws, which he holds up against his chin so as to +carry a big handful without spilling. Beavers love such streams, with +their alder shade and sweet grasses and fringe of wild meadow, better +than all other places. And, by the way, most of the natural meadows +and half the ponds of New England were made by beavers. If you go to +the foot of any little meadow in the woods and dig at the lower end, +where the stream goes out, you will find, sometimes ten feet under the +surface, the remains of the first dam that formed the meadow when the +water flowed back and killed the trees. + +The second kind of dam is for swift streams. Stout, ten-foot brush is +the chief material. The brush is floated down to the spot selected; +the tops are weighted down with stones, and the butts left free, +pointing down stream. Such dams must be built out from the sides, of +course. They are generally arched, the convex side being up stream so +as to make a stronger structure. When the arch closes in the middle, +the lower side of the dam is banked heavily with earth and stones. +That is shrewd policy on the beaver's part; for once the arch is +closed by brush, the current can no longer sweep away the earth and +stones used for the embankment. + +The third kind is the strongest and easiest to build. It is for places +where big trees lean out over the stream. Three or four beavers gather +about a tree and begin to cut, sitting up on their broad tails. One +stands above them on the bank, apparently directing the work. In a +short time the tree is nearly cut through from the under side. Then +the beaver above begins to cut down carefully. With the first warning +crack he jumps aside, and the tree falls straight across where it is +wanted. All the beavers then disappear and begin cutting the branches +that rest on the bottom. Slowly the tree settles till its trunk is at +the right height to make the top of the dam. The upper branches are +then trimmed close to the trunk, and are woven with alders among the +long stubs sticking down from the trunk into the river bed. Stones, +mud, and brush are used liberally to fill the chinks, and in a +remarkably short time the dam is complete. + +When you meet such a dam on the stream you are canoeing don't attempt +to break through. You will find it shorter by several hours to unload +and make a carry. + +All the beaver's cutting is done by chisel-edged front teeth. There +are two of these in each jaw, extending a good inch and a half outside +the gums, and meeting at a sharp bevel. The inner sides of the teeth +are softer and wear away faster than the outer, so that the bevel +remains the same; and the action of the upper and lower teeth over +each other keeps them always sharp. They grow so rapidly that a beaver +must be constantly wood cutting to keep them worn down to comfortable +size. + +Often on wild streams you find a stick floating down to meet you +showing a fresh cut. You grab it, of course, and say: "Somebody is +camped above here. That stick has just been cut with a sharp knife." +But look closer; see that faint ridge the whole length of the cut, as +if the knife had a tiny gap in its edge. That is where the beaver's +two upper teeth meet, and the edge is not quite perfect. He cut that +stick, thicker than a man's thumb, at a single bite. To cut an alder +having the diameter of a teacup is the work of a minute for the same +tools; and a towering birch tree falls in a remarkably short time when +attacked by three or four beavers. Around the stump of such a tree you +find a pile of two-inch chips, thick, white, clean cut, and arched to +the curve of the beaver's teeth. Judge the workman by his chips, and +this is a good workman. + +When the dam is built the beaver cuts his winter food-wood. A colony +of the creatures will often fell a whole grove of young birch or +poplar on the bank above the dam. The branches with the best bark are +then cut into short lengths, which are rolled down the bank and +floated to the pool at the dam. + +Considerable discussion has taken place as to how the beaver sinks his +wood--for of course he must sink it, else it would freeze into the ice +and be useless. One theory is that the beavers suck the air from each +stick. Two witnesses declare to me they have seen them doing it; and +in a natural history book of my childhood there is a picture of a +beaver with the end of a three-foot stick in his mouth, sucking the +air out. Just as if the beavers didn't know better, even if the absurd +thing were possible! The simplest way is to cut the wood early and +leave it in the water a while, when it sinks of itself; for green +birch and poplar are almost as heavy as water. They soon get +waterlogged and go to the bottom. It is almost impossible for +lumbermen to drive spool wood (birch) for this reason. If the nights +grow suddenly cold before the wood sinks, the beavers take it down to +the bottom and press it slightly into the mud; or else they push +sticks under those that float against the dam, and more under these; +and so on till the stream is full to the bottom, the weight of those +above keeping the others down. Much of the wood is lost in this way by +being frozen into the ice; but the beaver knows that, and cuts +plenty. + +When a beaver is hungry in winter he comes down under the ice, selects +a stick, carries it up into his house, and eats the bark. Then he +carries the peeled stick back under the ice and puts it aside out of +the way. + +Once, in winter, it occurred to me that soaking spoiled the flavor of +bark, and that the beavers might like a fresh bite. So I cut a hole in +the ice on the pool above their dam. Of course the chopping scared the +beavers; it was vain to experiment that day. I spread a blanket and +some thick boughs over the hole to keep it from freezing over too +thickly, and went away. + +Next day I pushed the end of a freshly cut birch pole down among the +beavers' store, lay down with my face to the hole after carefully +cutting out the thin ice, drew a big blanket round my head and the +projecting end of the pole to shut out the light, and watched. For a +while it was all dark as a pocket; then I began to see things dimly. +Presently a darker shadow shot along the bottom and grabbed the pole. +It was a beaver, with a twenty dollar coat on. He tugged; I held on +tight--which surprised him so that he went back into his house to +catch breath. + +But the taste of fresh bark was in his mouth, and soon he was back +with another beaver. Both took hold this time and pulled together. No +use! They began to swim round, examining the queer pole on every +side. "What kind of a stick are you, anyway?" one was thinking. "You +didn't grow here, because I would have found you long ago." "And +you're not frozen into the ice," said the other, "because you +wriggle." Then they both took hold again, and I began to haul up +carefully. I wanted to see them nearer. That surprised them immensely; +but I think they would have held on only for an accident. The blanket +slipped away; a stream of light shot in; there were two great whirls +in the water; and that was the end of the experiment. They did not +come back, though I waited till I was almost frozen. But I cut some +fresh birch and pushed it under the ice to pay for my share in the +entertainment. + +The beaver's house is generally the last thing attended to. He likes +to build this when the nights grow cold enough to freeze his mortar +soon after it is laid. Two or three tunnels are dug from the bottom of +the beaver pond up through the bank, coming to the surface together at +the point where the center of the house is to be. Around this he lays +solid foundations of log and stone in a circle from six to fifteen +feet in diameter, according to the number of beavers to occupy the +house. On these foundations he rears a thick mass of sticks and grass, +which are held together by plenty of mud. The top is roofed by stout +sticks arranged as in an Indian wigwam, and the whole domed over with +grass, stones, sticks, and mud. Once this is solidly frozen, the +beaver sleeps in peace; his house is burglar proof. + +If on a lake shore, where the rise of water is never great, the +beaver's house is four or five feet high. On streams subject to +freshets they may be two or three times that height. As in the case of +the musquash (or muskrat), a strange instinct guides the beaver as to +the height of his dwelling. He builds high or low, according to his +expectations of high or low water; and he is rarely drowned out of his +dry nest. + +Sometimes two or three families unite to build a single large house, +but always in such cases each family has its separate apartment. When +a house is dug open it is evident from the different impressions that +each member of the family has his own bed, which he always occupies. +Beavers are exemplary in their neatness; the house after five months' +use is as neat as when first made. + +All their building is primarily a matter of instinct, for a tame +beaver builds miniature dams and houses on the floor of his cage. +Still it is not an uncontrollable instinct like that of most birds; +nor blind, like that of rats and squirrels at times. I have found +beaver houses on lake shores where no dam was built, simply because +the water was deep enough, and none was needed. In vacation time the +young beavers build for fun, just as boys build a dam wherever they +can find running water. I am persuaded also (and this may explain some +of the dams that seem stupidly placed) that at times the old beavers +set the young to work in summer, in order that they may know how to +build when it becomes necessary. This is a hard theory to prove, for +the beavers work by night, preferably on dark, rainy nights, when they +are safest on land to gather materials. But while building is +instinctive, skilful building is the result of practice and +experience. And some of the beaver dams show wonderful skill. + +[Illustration] + +There is one beaver that never builds, that never troubles himself +about house, or dam, or winter's store. I am not sure whether we ought +to call him the genius or the lazy man of the family. The bank beaver +is a solitary old bachelor living in a den, like a mink, in the bank +of a stream. He does not build a house, because a den under a cedar's +roots is as safe and warm. He never builds a dam, because there are +deep places in the river where the current is too swift to freeze. He +finds tender twigs much juicier, even in winter, than stale bark +stored under water. As for his telltale tracks in the snow, his wits +must guard him against enemies; and there is the open stretch of river +to flee to. + +There are two theories among Indians and trappers to account for the +bank beaver's eccentricities. The first is that he has failed to find +a mate and leaves the colony, or is driven out, to lead a lonely +bachelor life. His conduct during the mating season certainly favors +this theory, for never was anybody more diligent in his search for a +wife than he. Up and down the streams and alder brooks of a whole wild +countryside he wanders without rest, stopping here and there on a +grassy point to gather a little handful of mud, like a child's mud +pie, all patted smooth, in the midst of which is a little strong +smelling musk. When you find that sign, in a circle of carefully +trimmed grass under the alders, you know that there is a young beaver +on that stream looking for a wife. And when the young beaver finds his +pie opened and closed again, he knows that there is a mate there +somewhere waiting for him. But the poor bank beaver never finds his +mate, and the next winter must go back to his solitary den. He is much +more easily caught than other beavers, and the trappers say it is +because he is lonely and tired of life. + +The second theory is that generally held by Indians. They say the bank +beaver is lazy and refuses to work with the others; so they drive him +out. When beavers are busy they are very busy, and tolerate no +loafing. Perhaps he even tries to persuade them that all their work is +unnecessary, and so shares the fate of reformers in general. + +While examining the den of a bank beaver last summer another theory +suggested itself. Is not this one of the rare animals in which all the +instincts of his kind are lacking? He does not build because he has no +impulse to build; he does not know how. So he represents what the +beaver was, thousands of years ago, before he learned how to construct +his dam and house, reappearing now by some strange freak of heredity, +and finding himself wofully out of place and time. The other beavers +drive him away because all gregarious animals and birds have a strong +fear and dislike of any irregularity in their kind. Even when the +peculiarity is slight--a wound, or a deformity--they drive the poor +victim from their midst remorselessly. It is a cruel instinct, but +part of one of the oldest in creation, the instinct which preserves +the species. This explains why the bank beaver never finds a mate; +none of the beavers will have anything to do with him. + +This occasional lack of instinct is not peculiar to the beavers. Now +and then a bird is hatched here in the North that has no impulse to +migrate. He cries after his departing comrades, but never follows. So +he remains and is lost in the storms of winter. + +There are few creatures in the wilderness more difficult to observe +than the beavers, both on account of their extreme shyness and because +they work only by night. The best way to get a glimpse of them at work +is to make a break in their dam and pull the top from one of their +houses some autumn afternoon, at the time of full moon. Just before +twilight you must steal back and hide some distance from the dam. Even +then the chances are against you, for the beavers are suspicious, keen +of ear and nose, and generally refuse to show themselves till after +the moon sets or you have gone away. You may have to break their dam +half a dozen times, and freeze as often, before you see it repaired. + +It is a most interesting sight when it comes at last, and well repays +the watching. The water is pouring through a five-foot break in the +dam; the roof of a house is in ruins. You have rubbed yourself all +over with fir boughs, to destroy some of the scent in your clothes, +and hidden yourself in the top of a fallen tree. The twilight goes; +the moon wheels over the eastern spruces, flooding the river with +silver light. Still no sign of life. You are beginning to think of +another disappointment; to think your toes cannot stand the cold +another minute without stamping, which would spoil everything, when a +ripple shoots swiftly across the pool, and a big beaver comes out on +the bank. He sits up a moment, looking, listening; then goes to the +broken house and sits up again, looking it all over, estimating +damages, making plans. There is a commotion in the water; three others +join him--you are warm now. + +Meanwhile three or four more are swimming about the dam, surveying the +damage there. One dives to the bottom, but comes up in a moment to +report all safe below. Another is tugging at a thick pole just below +you. Slowly he tows it out in front, balances a moment and lets it +go--_good!_--squarely across the break. Two others are cutting alders +above; and here come the bushes floating down. Over at the damaged +house two beavers are up on the walls, raising the rafters into place; +a third appears to be laying on the outer covering and plastering it +with mud. Now and then one sits up straight like a rabbit, listens, +stretches his back to get the kinks out, then drops to his work again. + +It is brighter now; moon and stars are glimmering in the pool. At the +dam the sound of falling water grows faint as the break is rapidly +closed. The houses loom larger. Over the dome of the one broken, the +dark outline of a beaver passes triumphantly. Quick work that. You +grow more interested; you stretch your neck to see--_splash_! A beaver +gliding past has seen you. As he dives he gives the water a sharp blow +with his broad tail, the danger signal of the beavers, and a startling +one in the dead stillness. There is a sound as of a stick being +plunged end first into the water; a few eddies go running about the +pool, breaking up the moon's reflection; then silence again, and the +lap of ripples on the shore. + +You can go home now; you will see nothing more to-night. There's a +beaver over under the other bank, in the shadow where you cannot see +him, just his eyes and ears above water, watching you. He will not +stir; nor will another beaver come out till you go away. As you find +your canoe and paddle back to camp, a ripple made by a beaver's nose +follows silently in the shadow of the alders. At the bend of the river +where you disappear, the ripple halts a while, like a projecting stub +in the current, then turns and goes swiftly back. There is another +splash; the builders come out again; a dozen ripples are scattering +star reflections all over the pool; while the little wood folk pause a +moment to look at the new works curiously, then go their ways, shy, +silent, industrious, through the wilderness night. + + + + +VII. CROW-WAYS. + + +[Illustration] + +The crow is very much of a rascal--that is, if any creature can be +called a rascal for following out natural and rascally inclinations. I +first came to this conclusion one early morning, several years ago, as +I watched an old crow diligently exploring a fringe of bushes that +grew along the wall of a deserted pasture. He had eaten a clutch of +thrush's eggs, and carried off three young sparrows to feed his own +young, before I found out what he was about. Since then I have +surprised him often at the same depredations. + +An old farmer has assured me that he has also caught him tormenting +his sheep, lighting on their backs and pulling the wool out by the +roots to get fleece for lining his nest. This is a much more serious +charge than that of pulling up corn, though the latter makes almost +every farmer his enemy. + +Yet with all his rascality he has many curious and interesting ways. +In fact, I hardly know another bird that so well repays a season's +study; only one must be very patient, and put up with frequent +disappointments if he would learn much of a crow's peculiarities by +personal observation. How shy he is! How cunning and quick to learn +wisdom! Yet he is very easily fooled; and some experiences that ought +to teach him wisdom he seems to forget within an hour. Almost every +time I went shooting, in the old barbarian days before I learned +better, I used to get one or two crows from a flock that ranged over +my hunting ground by simply hiding among the pines and calling like a +young crow. If the flock was within hearing, it was astonishing to +hear the loud chorus of _haw-haws_, and to see them come rushing over +the same grove where a week before they had been fooled in the same +way. Sometimes, indeed, they seemed to remember; and when the pseudo +young crow began his racket at the bottom of some thick grove they +would collect on a distant pine tree and _haw-haw_ in vigorous answer. +But curiosity always got the better of them, and they generally +compromised by sending over some swift, long-winged old flier, only to +see him go tumbling down at the report of a gun; and away they would +go, screaming at the top of their voices, and never stopping till they +were miles away. Next week they would do exactly the same thing. + +Crows, more than any other birds, are fond of excitement and great +crowds; the slightest unusual object furnishes an occasion for an +assembly. A wounded bird will create as much stir in a flock of crows +as a railroad accident does in a village. But when some prowling old +crow discovers an owl sleeping away the sunlight in the top of a great +hemlock, his delight and excitement know no bounds. There is a +suppressed frenzy in his very call that every crow in the neighborhood +understands. _Come! come! everybody come!_ he seems to be screaming as +he circles over the tree-top; and within two minutes there are more +crows gathered about that old hemlock than one would believe existed +within miles of the place. I counted over seventy one day, immediately +about a tree in which one of them had found an owl; and I think there +must have been as many more flying about the outskirts that I could +not count. + +At such times one can approach very near with a little caution, and +attend, as it were, a crow caucus. Though I have attended a great +many, I have never been able to find any real cause for the +excitement. Those nearest the owl sit about in the trees cawing +vociferously; not a crow is silent. Those on the outskirts are flying +rapidly about and making, if possible, more noise than the inner ring. +The owl meanwhile sits blinking and staring, out of sight in the green +top. Every moment two or three crows leave the ring to fly up close +and peep in, and then go screaming back again, hopping about on their +perches, cawing at every breath, nodding their heads, striking the +branches, and acting for all the world like excited stump speakers. + +The din grows louder and louder; fresh voices are coming in every +minute; and the owl, wondering in some vague way if he is the cause of +it all, flies off to some other tree where he can be quiet and go to +sleep. Then, with a great rush and clatter, the crows follow, some +swift old scout keeping close to the owl and screaming all the way to +guide the whole cawing rabble. When the owl stops they gather round +again and go through the same performance more excitedly than before. +So it continues till the owl finds some hollow tree and goes in out of +sight, leaving them to caw themselves tired; or else he finds some +dense pine grove, and doubles about here and there, with that shadowy +noiseless flight of his, till he has thrown them off the track. Then +he flies into the thickest tree he can find, generally outside the +grove where the crows are looking, and sitting close up against the +trunk blinks his great yellow eyes and listens to the racket that goes +sweeping through the grove, peering curiously into every thick pine, +searching everywhere for the lost excitement. + +The crows give him up reluctantly. They circle for a few minutes over +the grove, rising and falling with that beautiful, regular motion +that seems like the practice drill of all gregarious birds, and +generally end by collecting in some tree at a distance and _hawing_ +about it for hours, till some new excitement calls them elsewhere. + +Just why they grow so excited over an owl is an open question. I have +never seen them molest him, nor show any tendency other than to stare +at him occasionally and make a great noise about it. That they +recognize him as a thief and cannibal I have no doubt. But he thieves +by night when other birds are abed, and as they practise their own +thieving by open daylight, it may be that they are denouncing him as +an impostor. Or it may be that the owl in his nightly prowlings +sometimes snatches a young crow off the roost. The great horned owl +would hardly hesitate to eat an old crow if he could catch him +napping; and so they grow excited, as all birds do in the presence of +their natural enemies. They make much the same kind of a fuss over a +hawk, though the latter easily escapes the annoyance by flying swiftly +away, or by circling slowly upward to a height so dizzy that the crows +dare not follow. + +In the early spring I have utilized this habit of the crows in my +search for owls' nests. The crows are much more apt to discover its +whereabouts than the most careful ornithologist, and they gather about +it frequently for a little excitement. Once I utilized the habit for +getting a good look at the crows themselves. I carried out an old +stuffed owl, and set it up on a pole close against a great pine tree +on the edge of a grove. Then I lay down in a thick clump of bushes +near by and _cawed_ excitedly. The first messenger from the flock flew +straight over without making any discoveries. The second one found the +owl, and I had no need for further calling. _Haw! haw!_ he cried deep +down in his throat--_here he is! here's the rascal!_ In a moment he +had the whole flock there; and for nearly ten minutes they kept coming +in from every direction. A more frenzied lot I never saw. The _hawing_ +was tremendous, and I hoped to settle at last the real cause and +outcome of the excitement, when an old crow flying close over my +hiding place caught sight of me looking out through the bushes. How he +made himself heard or understood in the din I do not know; but the +crow is never too excited to heed a danger note. The next moment the +whole flock were streaming away across the woods, giving the +scatter-cry at every flap. + +There is another way in which the crows' love of variety is manifest, +though in a much more dignified way. Occasionally a flock may be +surprised sitting about in the trees, deeply absorbed in watching a +performance--generally operatic--by one of their number. The crow's +chief note is the hoarse _haw, haw_ with which everybody is familiar, +and which seems capable of expressing everything, from the soft +chatter of going to bed in the pine tops to the loud derision with +which he detects all ordinary attempts to surprise him. Certain crows, +however, have unusual vocal abilities, and at times they seem to use +them for the entertainment of the others. Yet I suspect that these +vocal gifts are seldom used, or even discovered, until lack of +amusement throws them upon their own resources. Certain it is that, +whenever a crow makes any unusual sounds, there are always several +more about, _hawing_ vigorously, yet seeming to listen attentively. I +have caught them at this a score of times. + +One September afternoon, while walking quietly through the woods, my +attention was attracted by an unusual sound coming from an oak grove, +a favorite haunt of gray squirrels. The crows were cawing in the same +direction; but every few minutes would come a strange cracking +sound--_c-r-r-rack-a-rack-rack_, as if some one had a giant nutcracker +and were snapping it rapidly. I stole forward through the low woods +till I could see perhaps fifty crows perched about in the oaks, all +very attentive to something going on below them that I could not see. + +Not till I had crawled up to the brush fence, on the very edge of the +grove, and peeked through did I see the performer. Out on the end of a +long delicate branch, a few feet above the ground, a small crow was +clinging, swaying up and down like a bobolink on a cardinal flower, +balancing himself gracefully by spreading his wings, and every few +minutes giving the strange cracking sound, accompanied by a flirt of +his wings and tail as the branch swayed upward. At every repetition +the crows _hawed_ in applause. I watched them fully ten minutes before +they saw me and flew away. + +Several times since, I have been attracted by unusual sounds, and have +surprised a flock of crows which were evidently watching a performance +by one of their number. Once it was a deep musical whistle, much like +the _too-loo-loo_ of the blue jay (who is the crow's cousin, for all +his bright colors), but deeper and fuller, and without the trill that +always marks the blue jay's whistle. Once, in some big woods in Maine, +it was a hoarse bark, utterly unlike a bird call, which made me slip +heavy shells into my gun and creep forward, expecting some strange +beast that I had never before met. + +The same love of variety and excitement leads the crow to investigate +any unusual sight or sound that catches his attention. Hide anywhere +in the woods, and make any queer sound you will--play a jews'-harp, +or pull a devil's fiddle, or just call softly--and first comes a blue +jay, all agog to find out all about it. Next a red squirrel steals +down and barks just over your head, to make you start if possible. +Then, if your eyes are sharp, you will see a crow gliding from thicket +to thicket, keeping out of sight as much as possible, but drawing +nearer and nearer to investigate the unusual sound. And if he is +suspicious or unsatisfied, he will hide and wait patiently for you to +come out and show yourself. + +Not only is he curious about you, and watches you as you go about the +woods, but he watches his neighbors as well. When a fox is started you +can often trace his course, far ahead of your dogs, by the crows +circling over him and calling _rascal, rascal_, whenever he shows +himself. He watches the ducks and plover, the deer and bear; he knows +where they are, and what they are doing; and he will go far out of his +way to warn them, as well as his own kind, at the approach of danger. +When birds nest, or foxes den, or beasts fight in the woods, he is +there to see it. When other things fail he will even play jokes, as +upon one occasion when I saw a young crow hide in a hole in a pine +tree, and for two hours keep a whole flock in a frenzy of excitement +by his distressed cawing. He would venture out when they were at a +distance, peek all about cautiously to see that no one saw him, then +set up a heart-rending appeal, only to dodge back out of sight when +the flock came rushing in with a clamor that was deafening. + +Only one of two explanations can account for his action in this case; +either he was a young crow who did not appreciate the gravity of +crying _wolf, wolf!_ when there was no wolf, or else it was a plain +game of hide-and-seek. When the crows at length found him they chased +him out of sight, either to chastise him, or, as I am inclined now to +think, each one sought to catch him for the privilege of being the +next to hide. + +In fact, whenever one hears a flock of crows _hawing_ away in the +woods, he may be sure that some excitement is afoot that will well +repay his time and patience to investigate. + + * * * * * + +Since the above article was written, some more curious crow-ways have +come to light. Here is one which seems to throw light on the question +of their playing games. I found it out one afternoon last September, +when a vigorous cawing over in the woods induced me to leave the +orchard, where I was picking apples, for the more exciting occupation +of spying on my dark neighbors. + +The clamor came from an old deserted pasture, bounded on three sides +by pine woods, and on the fourth by half wild fields that straggled +away to the dusty road beyond. Once, long ago, there was a farm there; +but even the cellars have disappeared, and the crows no longer fear +the place. + +It was an easy task to creep unobserved through the nearest pine +grove, and gain a safe hiding place under some junipers on the edge of +the old pasture. The cawing meanwhile was intermittent; at times it +broke out in a perfect babel, as if every crow were doing his best to +outcaw all the others; again there was silence save for an occasional +short note, the _all's well_ of the sentinel on guard. The crows are +never so busy or so interested that they neglect this precaution. + +When I reached the junipers, the crows--half a hundred of them--were +ranged in the pine tops along one edge of the open. They were quiet +enough, save for an occasional scramble for position, evidently +waiting for something to happen. Down on my right, on the fourth or +open side of the pasture, a solitary old crow was perched in the top +of a tall hickory. I might have taken him for a sentry but for a +bright object which he held in his beak. It was too far to make out +what the object was; but whenever he turned his head it flashed in the +sunlight like a bit of glass. + +As I watched him curiously he launched himself into the air and came +speeding down the center of the field, making for the pines at the +opposite end. Instantly every crow was on the wing; they shot out from +both sides, many that I had not seen before, all cawing like mad. They +rushed upon the old fellow from the hickory, and for a few moments it +was impossible to make out anything except a whirling, diving rush of +black wings. The din meanwhile was deafening. + +Something bright dropped from the excited flock, and a single crow +swooped after it; but I was too much interested in the rush to note +what became of him. The clamor ceased abruptly. The crows, after a +short practice in rising, falling, and wheeling to command, settled in +the pines on both sides of the field, where they had been before. And +there in the hickory was another crow with the same bright, flashing +thing in his beak. + +There was a long wait this time, as if for a breathing spell. Then the +solitary crow came skimming down the field again without warning. The +flock surrounded him on the moment, with the evident intention of +hindering his flight as much as possible. They flapped their wings in +his face; they zig-zagged in front of him; they attempted to light on +his back. In vain he twisted and dodged and dropped like a stone. +Wherever he turned he found fluttering wings to oppose his flight. The +first object of the game was apparent: he was trying to reach the goal +of pines opposite the hickory, and the others were trying to prevent +it. Again and again the leader was lost to sight; but whenever the +sunlight flashed from the bright thing he carried, he was certain to +be found in the very midst of a clamoring crowd. Then the second +object was clear: the crows were trying to confuse him and make him +drop the talisman. + +[Illustration] + +They circled rapidly down the field and back again, near the watcher. +Suddenly the bright thing dropped, reaching the ground before it was +discovered. Three or four crows swooped upon it, and a lively +scrimmage began for its possession. In the midst of the struggle a +small crow shot under the contestants, and before they knew what was +up he was scurrying away to the hickory with the coveted trinket held +as high as he could carry it, as if in triumph at his sharp trick. + +The flock settled slowly into the pines again with much _hawing_. +There was evidently a question whether the play ought to be allowed or +not. Everybody had something to say about it; and there was no end of +objection. At last it was settled good-naturedly, and they took places +to watch till the new leader should give them opportunity for another +chase. + +There was no doubt left in the watcher's mind by this time as to what +the crows were doing. They were just playing a game, like so many +schoolboys, enjoying to the full the long bright hours of the +September afternoon. Did they find the bright object as they crossed +the pasture on the way from Farmer B's corn-field, and the game so +suggest itself? Or was the game first suggested, and the talisman +brought afterwards? Every crow has a secret storehouse, where he hides +every bright thing he finds. Sometimes it is a crevice in the rocks +under moss and ferns; sometimes the splintered end of a broken branch; +sometimes a deserted owl's nest in a hollow tree; often a crotch in a +big pine, covered carefully by brown needles; but wherever it is, it +is full of bright things--glass, and china, and beads, and tin, and an +old spoon, and a silvered buckle--and nobody but the crow himself +knows how to find it. Did some crow fetch his best trinket for the +occasion, or was this a special thing for games, and kept by the flock +where any crow could get it? + +These were some of the interesting things that were puzzling the +watcher when he noticed that the hickory was empty. A flash over +against the dark green revealed the leader. There he was, stealing +along in the shadow, trying to reach the goal before they saw him. A +derisive _haw_ announced his discovery. Then the fun began again, as +noisy, as confusing, as thoroughly enjoyable as ever. + +When the bright object dropped this time, curiosity to get possession +of it was stronger than my interest in the game. Besides, the apples +were waiting. I jumped up, scattering the crows in wild confusion; but +as they streamed away I fancied that there was still more of the +excitement of play than of alarm in their flight and clamor. + +The bright object which the leader carried proved to be the handle of +a glass cup or pitcher. A fragment of the vessel itself had broken off +with the handle, so that the ring was complete. Altogether it was just +the thing for the purpose--bright, and not too heavy, and most +convenient for a crow to seize and carry. Once well gripped, it would +take a good deal of worrying to make him drop it. + +Who first was "it," as children say in games? Was it a special +privilege of the crow who first found the talisman, or do the crows +have some way of counting out for the first leader? There is a +school-house down that same old dusty road. Sometimes, when at play +there, I used to notice the crows stealing silently from tree to tree +in the woods beyond, watching our play, I have no doubt, as I now had +watched theirs. Only we have grown older, and forgotten how to play; +and they are as much boys as ever. Did they learn their game from +watching us at tag, I wonder? And do they know coram, and +leave-stocks, and prisoners' base, and bull-in-the-ring as well? One +could easily believe their wise little black heads to be capable of +any imitation, especially if one had watched them a few times, at work +and play, when they had no idea they were being spied upon. + + + + +VIII. ONE TOUCH OF NATURE. + + +[Illustration] + +The cheery whistle of a quail recalls to most New England people a +vision of breezy upland pastures and a mottled brown bird calling +melodiously from the topmost slanting rail of an old sheep-fence. +Farmers say he foretells the weather, calling, +_More-wet_--_much-more-wet!_ Boys say he only proclaims his name, _Bob +White! I'm Bob White!_ But whether he prognosticates or introduces +himself, his voice is always a welcome one. Those who know the call +listen with pleasure, and speedily come to love the bird that makes +it. + +Bob White has another call, more beautiful than his boyish whistle, +which comparatively few have heard. It is a soft liquid yodeling, +which the male bird uses to call the scattered flock together. One who +walks in the woods at sunset sometimes hears it from a tangle of +grapevine and bullbrier. If he has the patience to push his way +carefully through the underbrush, he may see the beautiful Bob on a +rock or stump, uttering the softest and most musical of whistles. He +is telling his flock that here is a nice place he has found, where +they can spend the night and be safe from owls and prowling foxes. + +If the visitor be very patient, and lie still, he will presently hear +the pattering of tiny feet on the leaves, and see the brown birds come +running in from every direction. Once in a lifetime, perhaps, he may +see them gather in a close circle--tails together, heads out, like the +spokes of a wheel, and so go to sleep for the night. Their soft +whistlings and chirpings at such times form the most delightful sound +one ever hears in the woods. + +This call of the male bird is not difficult to imitate. Hunters who +know the birds will occasionally use it to call a scattered covey +together, or to locate the male birds, which generally answer the +leader's call. I have frequently called a flock of the birds into a +thicket at sunset, and caught running glimpses of them as they hurried +about, looking for the bugler who called taps. + +All this occurred to me late one afternoon in the great Zoological +Gardens at Antwerp. I was watching a yard of birds--three or four +hundred representatives of the pheasant family from all over the +earth that were running about among the rocks and artificial copses. +Some were almost as wild as if in their native woods, especially the +smaller birds in the trees; others had grown tame from being +constantly fed by visitors. + +[Illustration] + +It was rather confusing to a bird lover, familiar only with home +birds, to see all the strange forms and colors in the grass, and to +hear a chorus of unknown notes from trees and underbrush. But suddenly +there was a touch of naturalness. That beautiful brown bird with the +shapely body and the quick, nervous run! No one could mistake him; it +was Bob White. And with him came a flash of the dear New England +landscape three thousand miles away. Another and another showed +himself and was gone. Then I thought of the woods at sunset, and began +to call softly. + +The carnivora were being fed not far away; a frightful uproar came +from the cages. The coughing roar of a male lion made the air shiver. +Cockatoos screamed; noisy parrots squawked hideously. Children were +playing and shouting near by. In the yard itself fifty birds were +singing or crying strange notes. Besides all this, the quail I had +seen had been hatched far from home, under a strange mother. So I had +little hope of success. + +But as the call grew louder and louder, a liquid yodel came like an +electric shock from a clump of bushes on the left. There he was, +looking, listening. Another call, and he came running toward me. +Others appeared from every direction, and soon a score of quail were +running about, just inside the screen, with soft gurglings like a +hidden brook, doubly delightful to an ear that had longed to hear +them. + +City, gardens, beasts, strangers,--all vanished in an instant. I was a +boy in the fields again. The rough New England hillside grew tender +and beautiful in sunset light; the hollows were rich in autumn glory. +The pasture brook sang on its way to the river; a robin called from a +crimson maple; and all around was the dear low, thrilling whistle, and +the patter of welcome feet on leaves, as Bob White came running again +to meet his countryman. + + + + +IX. MOOSE CALLING. + + +[Illustration] + +Midnight in the wilderness. The belated moon wheels slowly above the +eastern ridge, where for a few minutes past a mighty pine and hundreds +of pointed spruce tops have been standing out in inky blackness +against the gray and brightening background. The silver light steals +swiftly down the evergreen tops, sending long black shadows creeping +before it, and falls glistening and shimmering across the sleeping +waters of a forest lake. No ripple breaks its polished surface; no +plash of musquash or leaping trout sends its vibrations up into the +still, frosty air; no sound of beast or bird awakens the echoes of the +silent forest. Nature seems dying, her life frozen out of her by the +chill of the October night; and no voice tells of her suffering. + +A moment ago the little lake lay all black and uniform, like a great +well among the hills, with only glimmering star-points to reveal its +surface. Now, down in a bay below a grassy point, where the dark +shadows of the eastern shore reach almost across, a dark object is +lying silent and motionless on the lake. Its side seems gray and +uncertain above the water; at either end is a dark mass, that in the +increasing light takes the form of human head and shoulders. A bark +canoe with two occupants is before us; but so still, so lifeless +apparently, that till now we thought it part of the shore beyond. + +There is a movement in the stern; the profound stillness is suddenly +broken by a frightful roar: _M-wah-úh! M-waah-úh! M-w-wã-a-ã-ã-a!_ The +echoes rouse themselves swiftly, and rush away confused and broken, to +and fro across the lake. As they die away among the hills there is a +sound from the canoe as if an animal were walking in shallow water, +_splash, splash, splash, klop!_ then silence again, that is not dead, +but listening. + +A half-hour passes; but not for an instant does the listening tension +of the lake relax. Then the loud bellow rings out again, startling us +and the echoes, though we were listening for it. This time the tension +increases an hundredfold; every nerve is strained; every muscle ready. +Hardly have the echoes been lost when from far up the ridges comes a +deep, sudden, ugly roar that penetrates the woods like a rifle-shot. +Again it comes, and nearer! Down in the canoe a paddle blade touches +the water noiselessly from the stern; and over the bow there is the +glint of moonlight on a rifle barrel. The roar is now continuous on +the summit of the last low ridge. Twigs crackle, and branches snap. +There is the thrashing of mighty antlers among the underbrush, the +pounding of heavy hoofs upon the earth; and straight down the great +bull rushes like a tempest, nearer, nearer, till he bursts with +tremendous crash through the last fringe of alders out onto the grassy +point.--And then the heavy boom of a rifle rolling across the startled +lake. + +Such is moose calling, in one of its phases--the most exciting, the +most disappointing, the most trying way of hunting this noble game. + +The call of the cow moose, which the hunter always uses at first, is a +low, sudden bellow, quite impossible to describe accurately. Before +ever hearing it, I had frequently asked Indians and hunters what it +was like. The answers were rather unsatisfactory. "Like a tree +falling," said one. "Like the sudden swell of a cataract or the rapids +at night," said another. "Like a rifle-shot, or a man shouting +hoarsely," said a third; and so on till like a menagerie at feeding +time was my idea of it. + +One night as I sat with my friend at the door of our bark tent, eating +our belated supper in tired silence, while the rush of the salmon +pool near and the sigh of the night wind in the spruces were lulling +us to sleep as we ate, a sound suddenly filled the forest, and was +gone. Strangely enough, we pronounced the word _moose_ together, +though neither of us had ever heard the sound before. 'Like a gun in a +fog' would describe the sound to me better than anything else, though +after hearing it many times the simile is not at all accurate. This +first indefinite sound is heard early in the season. Later it is +prolonged and more definite, and often repeated as I have given it. + +The answer of the bull varies but little. It is a short, hoarse, +grunting roar, frightfully ugly when close at hand, and leaving no +doubt as to the mood he is in. Sometimes when a bull is shy, and the +hunter thinks he is near and listening, though no sound gives any idea +of his whereabouts, he follows the bellow of the cow by the short roar +of the bull, at the same time snapping the sticks under his feet, and +thrashing the bushes with a club. Then, if the bull answers, look out. +Jealous, and fighting mad, he hurls himself out of his concealment and +rushes straight in to meet his rival. Once aroused in this way he +heeds no danger, and the eye must be clear and the muscles steady to +stop him surely ere he reaches the thicket where the hunter is +concealed. Moonlight is poor stuff to shoot by at best, and an +enraged bull moose is a very big and a very ugly customer. It is a +poor thicket, therefore, that does not have at least one good tree +with conveniently low branches. As a rule, however, you may trust your +Indian, who is an arrant coward, to look out for this very carefully. + +The trumpet with which the calling is done is simply a piece of birch +bark, rolled up cone-shaped with the smooth side within. It is fifteen +or sixteen inches long, about four inches in diameter at the larger, +and one inch at the smaller end. The right hand is folded round the +smaller end for a mouthpiece; into this the caller grunts and roars +and bellows, at the same time swinging the trumpet's mouth in sweeping +curves to imitate the peculiar quaver of the cow's call. If the bull +is near and suspicious, the sound is deadened by holding the mouth of +the trumpet close to the ground. This, to me, imitates the real sound +more accurately than any other attempt. + +So many conditions must be met at once for successful calling, and so +warily does a bull approach, that the chances are always strongly +against the hunter's seeing his game. The old bulls are shy from much +hunting; the younger ones fear the wrath of an older rival. It is only +once in a lifetime, and far back from civilization, where the moose +have not been hunted, that one's call is swiftly answered by a savage +old bull that knows no fear. Here one is never sure what response his +call will bring; and the spice of excitement, and perhaps danger, is +added to the sport. + +In illustration of the uncertainty of calling, the writer recalls with +considerable pride his first attempt, which was somewhat startling in +its success. It was on a lake, far back from the settlements, in +northern New Brunswick. One evening, late in August, while returning +from fishing, I heard the bellow of a cow moose on a hardwood ridge +above me. Along the base of the ridge stretched a bay with grassy +shores, very narrow where it entered the lake, but broadening out to +fifty yards across, and reaching back half a mile to meet a stream +that came down from a smaller lake among the hills. All this I noted +carefully while gliding past; for it struck me as an ideal place for +moose calling, if one were hunting. + +The next evening, while fishing alone in the cold stream referred to, +I heard the moose again on the same ridge; and in a sudden spirit of +curiosity determined to try the effect of a roar or two on her, in +imitation of an old bull. I had never heard of a cow answering the +call; and I had no suspicion then that the bull was anywhere near. I +was not an expert caller. Under tuition of my Indian (who was +himself a rather poor hand at it) I had practised two or three times +till he told me, with charming frankness, that possibly a _man_ might +mistake me for a moose, if he hadn't heard one very often. So here was +a chance for more practice and a bit of variety. If it frightened her +it would do no harm, as we were not hunting. + +[Illustration] + +Running the canoe quietly ashore below where the moose had called, I +peeled the bark from a young birch, rolled it into a trumpet, and, +standing on the grassy bank, uttered the deep grunt of a bull two or +three times in quick succession. The effect was tremendous. From the +summit of the ridge, not two hundred yards above where I stood, the +angry challenge of a bull was hurled down upon me out of the woods. +Then it seemed as if a steam engine were crashing full speed through +the underbrush. In fewer seconds than it takes to write it the canoe +was well out into deep water, lying motionless with the bow inshore. A +moment later a huge bull plunged through the fringe of alders onto the +open bank, gritting his teeth, grunting, stamping the earth savagely, +and thrashing the bushes with his great antlers--as ugly a picture as +one would care to meet in the woods. + +He seemed bewildered at not seeing his rival, ran swiftly along the +bank, turned and came swinging back again, all the while uttering his +hoarse challenge. Then the canoe swung in the slight current; in +getting control of it again the movement attracted his attention, and +he saw me for the first time. In a moment he was down the bank into +shallow water, striking with his hoofs and tossing his huge head up +and down like an angry bull. Fortunately the water was deep, and he +did not try to swim out; for there was not a weapon of any kind in the +canoe. + +When I started down towards the lake, after baiting the bull's fury +awhile by shaking the paddle and splashing water at him, he followed +me along the bank, keeping up his threatening demonstrations. Down +near the lake he plunged suddenly ahead before I realized the danger, +splashed out into the narrow opening in front of the canoe--and there +I was, trapped. + +It was dark when I at last got out of it. To get by the ugly beast in +that narrow opening was out of the question, as I found out after a +half-hour's trying. Just at dusk I turned the canoe and paddled slowly +back; and the moose, leaving his post, followed as before along the +bank. At the upper side of a little bay I paddled close up to shore, +and waited till he ran round, almost up to me, before backing out into +deep water. Splashing seemed to madden the brute, so I splashed him, +till in his fury he waded out deeper and deeper, to strike the +exasperating canoe with his antlers. When he would follow no further, +I swung the canoe suddenly, and headed for the opening at a racing +stroke. I had a fair start before he understood the trick; but I never +turned to see how he made the bank and circled the little bay. The +splash and plunge of hoofs was fearfully close behind me as the canoe +shot through the opening; and as the little bark swung round on the +open waters of the lake, for a final splash and flourish of the +paddle, and a yell or two of derision, there stood the bull in the +inlet, still thrashing his antlers and gritting his teeth; and there I +left him. + +The season of calling is a short one, beginning early in September and +lasting till the middle of October. Occasionally a bull will answer as +late as November, but this is unusual. In this season a perfectly +still night is perhaps the first requisite. The bull, when he hears +the call, will often approach to within a hundred yards without making +a sound. It is simply wonderful how still the great brute can be as he +moves slowly through the woods. Then he makes a wide circuit till he +has gone completely round the spot where he heard the call; and if +there is the slightest breeze blowing he scents the danger, and is off +on the instant. On a still night his big trumpet-shaped ears are +marvelously acute. Only absolute silence on the hunter's part can +insure success. + +Another condition quite as essential is moonlight. The moose sometimes +calls just before dusk and just before sunrise; but the bull is more +wary at such times, and very loth to show himself in the open. Night +diminishes his extreme caution, and unless he has been hunted he +responds more readily. Only a bright moonlight can give any accuracy +to a rifle-shot. To attempt it by starlight would result simply in +frightening the game, or possibly running into danger. + +By far the best place for calling, if one is in a moose country, is +from a canoe on some quiet lake or river. A spot is selected midway +between two open shores, near together if possible. On whichever side +the bull answers, the canoe is backed silently away into the shadow +against the opposite bank; and there the hunters crouch motionless +till their game shows himself clearly in the moonlight on the open +shore. + +If there is no water in the immediate vicinity of the hunting ground, +then a thicket in the midst of an open spot is the place to call. Such +spots are found only about the barrens, which are treeless plains +scattered here and there throughout the great northern wilderness. +The scattered thickets on such plains are, without doubt, the islands +of the ancient lakes that once covered them. Here the hunter collects +a thick nest of dry moss and fir tips at sundown, and spreads the +thick blanket that he has brought on his back all the weary way from +camp; for without it the cold of the autumn night would be unendurable +to one who can neither light a fire nor move about to get warm. When a +bull answers a call from such a spot he will generally circle the +barren, just within the edge of the surrounding forest, and unless +enraged by jealousy will seldom venture far out into the open. This +fearfulness of the open characterizes the moose in all places and +seasons. He is a creature of the forest, never at ease unless within +quick reach of its protection. + +An exciting incident happened to Mitchell, my Indian guide, one +autumn, while hunting on one of these barrens with a sportsman whom he +was guiding. He was moose calling one night from a thicket near the +middle of a narrow barren. No answer came to his repeated calling, +though for an hour or more he had felt quite sure that a bull was +within hearing, somewhere within the dark fringe of forest. He was +about to try the roar of the bull, when it suddenly burst out of the +woods behind them, in exactly the opposite quarter from that in which +they believed their game was concealed. Mitchell started to creep +across the thicket, but scarcely had the echoes answered when, in +front of them, a second challenge sounded sharp and fierce; and they +saw, directly across the open, the underbrush at the forest's edge +sway violently, as the bull they had long suspected broke out in a +towering rage. He was slow in advancing, however, and Mitchell glided +rapidly across the thicket, where a moment later his excited hiss +called his companion. From the opposite fringe of forest the second +bull had hurled himself out, and was plunging with savage grunts +straight towards them. + +Crouching low among the firs they awaited his headlong rush; not +without many a startled glance backward, and a very uncomfortable +sense of being trapped and frightened, as Mitchell confessed to me +afterward. He had left his gun in camp; his employer had insisted upon +it, in his eagerness to kill the moose himself. + +The bull came rapidly within rifle-shot. In a minute more he would be +within their hiding place; and the rifle sight was trying to cover a +vital spot, when right behind them--at the thicket's edge, it +seemed--a frightful roar and a furious pounding of hoofs brought them +to their feet with a bound. A second later the rifle was lying among +the bushes, and a panic-stricken hunter was scratching and smashing +in a desperate hurry up among the branches of a low spruce, as if only +the tiptop were half high enough. Mitchell was nowhere to be seen; +unless one had the eyes of an owl to find him down among the roots of +a fallen pine. + +But the first moose smashed straight through the thicket without +looking up or down; and out on the open barren a tremendous struggle +began. There was a minute's confused uproar, of savage grunts and +clashing antlers and pounding hoofs and hoarse, labored breathing; +then the excitement of the fight was too strong to be resisted, and a +dark form wriggled out from among the roots, only to stretch itself +flat under a bush and peer cautiously at the struggling brutes not +thirty feet away. Twice Mitchell hissed for his employer to come down; +but that worthy was safe astride the highest branch that would bear +his weight, with no desire evidently for a better view of the fight. +Then Mitchell found the rifle among the bushes and, waiting till the +bulls backed away for one of their furious charges, killed the larger +one in his tracks. The second stood startled an instant, with raised +head and muscles quivering, then dashed away across the barren and +into the forest. + +Such encounters are often numbered among the tragedies of the great +wilderness. In tramping through the forest one sometimes comes upon +two sets of huge antlers locked firmly together, and white bones, +picked clean by hungry prowlers. It needs no written record to tell +their story. + +Once I saw a duel that resulted differently. I heard a terrific +uproar, and crept through the woods, thinking to have a savage +wilderness spectacle all to myself. Two young bulls were fighting +desperately in an open glade, just because they were strong and proud +of their first big horns. + +But I was not alone, as I expected. A great flock of crossbills +swooped down into the spruces, and stopped whistling in their +astonishment. A dozen red squirrels snickered and barked their +approval, as the bulls butted each other. Meeko is always glad when +mischief is afoot. High overhead floated a rare woods' raven, his head +bent sharply downward to see. Moose-birds flitted in restless +excitement from tree to bush. Kagax the weasel postponed his +bloodthirsty errand to the young rabbits. And just beside me, under +the fir tips, Tookhees the wood-mouse forgot his fear of the owl and +the fox and his hundred enemies, and sat by his den in broad daylight, +rubbing his whiskers nervously. + +So we watched, till the bull that was getting the worst of it backed +near me, and got my wind, and the fight was over. + + + + +X. CH'GEEGEE-LOKH-SIS. + + +[Illustration] + +That is the name which the northern Indians give to the black-capped +tit-mouse, or chickadee. "Little friend Ch'geegee" is what it means; +for the Indians, like everybody else who knows Chickadee, are fond of +this cheery little brightener of the northern woods. The first time I +asked Simmo what his people called the bird, he answered with a smile. +Since then I have asked other Indians, and always a smile, a pleased +look lit up the dark grim faces as they told me. It is another +tribute to the bright little bird's influence. + +Chickadee wears well. He is not in the least a creature of moods. You +step out of your door some bright morning, and there he is among the +shrubs, flitting from twig to twig; now hanging head down from the +very tip to look into a terminal bud; now winding upward about a +branch, looking industriously into every bud and crevice. An insect +must hide well to escape those bright eyes. He is helping you raise +your plants. He looks up brightly as you approach, hops fearlessly +down and looks at you with frank, innocent eyes. _Chick a dee dee dee +dee! Tsic a de-e-e?_--this last with a rising inflection, as if he +were asking how you were, after he had said good-morning. Then he +turns to his insect hunting again, for he never wastes more than a +moment talking. But he twitters sociably as he works. + +You meet him again in the depths of the wilderness. The smoke of your +camp fire has hardly risen to the spruce tops when close beside you +sounds the same cheerful greeting and inquiry for your health. There +he is on the birch twig, bright and happy and fearless! He comes down +by the fire to see if anything has boiled over which he may dispose +of. He picks up gratefully the crumbs you scatter at your feet. He +trusts you.--See! he rests a moment on the finger you extend, looks +curiously at the nail, and sounds it with his bill to see if it +shelters any harmful insect. Then he goes back to his birch twigs. + +On summer days he never overflows with the rollicksomeness of bobolink +and oriole, but takes his abundance in quiet contentment. I suspect it +is because he works harder winters, and his enjoyment is more deep +than theirs. In winter when the snow lies deep, he is the life of the +forest. He calls to you from the edges of the bleak caribou barrens, +and his greeting somehow suggests the May. He comes into your rude +bark camp, and eats of your simple fare, and leaves a bit of sunshine +behind him. He goes with you, as you force your way heavily through +the fir thickets on snowshoes. He is hungry, perhaps, like you, but +his note is none the less cheery and hopeful. + +When the sun shines hot in August, he finds you lying under the +alders, with the lake breeze in your face, and he opens his eyes very +wide and says: "_Tsic a dee-e-e?_ I saw you last winter. Those were +hard times. But it's good to be here now." And when the rain pours +down, and the woods are drenched, and camp life seems beastly +altogether, he appears suddenly with greeting cheery as the sunshine. +"_Tsic a de-e-e-e?_ Don't you remember yesterday? It rains, to be +sure, but the insects are plenty, and to-morrow the sun will shine." +His cheerfulness is contagious. Your thoughts are better than before +he came. + +Really, he is a wonderful little fellow; there is no end to the good +he does. Again and again I have seen a man grow better tempered or +more cheerful, without knowing why he did so, just because Chickadee +stopped a moment to be cheery and sociable. I remember once when a +party of four made camp after a driving rain-storm. Everybody was wet; +everything soaking. The lazy man had upset a canoe, and all the dry +clothes and blankets had just been fished out of the river. Now the +lazy man stood before the fire, looking after his own comfort. The +other three worked like beavers, making camp. They were in ill humor, +cold, wet, hungry, irritated. They said nothing. + +A flock of chickadees came down with sunny greetings, fearless, +trustful, never obtrusive. They looked innocently into human faces and +pretended that they did not see the irritation there. "_Tsic a dee_. I +wish I could help. Perhaps I can. _Tic a dee-e-e?_"--with that gentle, +sweetly insinuating up slide at the end. Somebody spoke, for the first +time in half an hour, and it wasn't a growl. Presently somebody +whistled--a wee little whistle; but the tide had turned. Then somebody +laughed. "'Pon my word," he said, hanging up his wet clothes, "I +believe those chickadees make me feel good-natured. Seem kind of +cheery, you know, and the crowd needed it." + +And Chickadee, picking up his cracker crumbs, did not act at all as if +he had done most to make camp comfortable. + +There is another way in which he helps, a more material way. Millions +of destructive insects live and multiply in the buds and tender bark +of trees. Other birds never see them, but Chickadee and his relations +leave never a twig unexplored. His bright eyes find the tiny eggs +hidden under the buds; his keen ears hear the larvæ feeding under the +bark, and a blow of his little bill uncovers them in their +mischief-making. His services of this kind are enormous, though rarely +acknowledged. + +Chickadee's nest is always neat and comfortable and interesting, just +like himself. It is a rare treat to find it. He selects an old +knot-hole, generally on the sheltered side of a dry limb, and digs out +the rotten wood, making a deep and sometimes winding tunnel downward. +In the dry wood at the bottom he makes a little round pocket and lines +it with the very softest material. When one finds such a nest, with +five or six white eggs delicately touched with pink lying at the +bottom, and a pair of chickadees gliding about, half fearful, half +trustful, it is altogether such a beautiful little spot that I know +hardly a boy who would be mean enough to disturb it. + +One thing about the nests has always puzzled me. The soft lining has +generally more or less rabbit fur. Sometimes, indeed, there is nothing +else, and a softer nest one could not wish to see. But where does he +get it? He would not, I am sure, pull it out of Br'er Rabbit, as the +crow sometimes pulls wool from the sheep's backs. Are his eyes bright +enough to find it hair by hair where the wind has blown it, down among +the leaves? If so, it must be slow work; but Chickadee is very +patient. Sometimes in spring you may surprise him on the ground, where +he never goes for food; but at such times he is always shy, and flits +up among the birch twigs, and twitters, and goes through an +astonishing gymnastic performance, as if to distract your attention +from his former unusual one. That is only because you are near his +nest. If he has a bit of rabbit fur in his bill meanwhile, your eyes +are not sharp enough to see it. + +Once after such a performance I pretended to go away; but I only hid +in a pine thicket. Chickadee listened awhile, then hopped down to the +ground, picked up something that I could not see, and flew away. I +have no doubt it was the lining for his nest near by. He had dropped +it when I surprised him, so that I should not suspect him of +nest-building. + +Such a bright, helpful little fellow should have never an enemy in the +world; and I think he has to contend against fewer than most birds. +The shrike is his worst enemy, the swift swoop of his cruel beak being +always fatal in a flock of chickadees. Fortunately the shrike is rare +with us; one seldom finds his nest, with poor Chickadee impaled on a +sharp thorn near by, surrounded by a varied lot of ugly beetles. I +suspect the owls sometimes hunt him at night; but he sleeps in the +thick pine shrubs, close up against a branch, with the pine needles +all about him, making it very dark; and what with the darkness, and +the needles to stick in his eyes, the owl generally gives up the +search and hunts in more open woods. + +Sometimes the hawks try to catch him, but it takes a very quick and a +very small pair of wings to follow Chickadee. Once I was watching him +hanging head down from an oak twig to which the dead leaves were +clinging; for it was winter. Suddenly there was a rush of air, a flash +of mottled wings and fierce yellow eyes and cruel claws. Chickadee +whisked out of sight under a leaf. The hawk passed on, brushing his +pinions. A brown feather floated down among the oak leaves. Then +Chickadee was hanging head down, just where he was before. "_Tsic a +dee?_ Didn't I fool him!" he seemed to say. He had just gone round his +twig, and under a leaf, and back again; and the danger was over. When +a hawk misses like that he never strikes again. + +Boys generally have a kind of sympathetic liking for Chickadee. They +may be cruel or thoughtless to other birds, but seldom so to him. He +seems somehow like themselves. + +Two barefoot boys with bows and arrows were hunting, one September +day, about the half-grown thickets of an old pasture. The older was +teaching the younger how to shoot. A robin, a chipmunk, and two or +three sparrows were already stowed away in their jacket pockets; a +brown rabbit hung from the older boy's shoulder. Suddenly the younger +raised his bow and drew the arrow back to its head. Just in front a +chickadee hung and twittered among the birch twigs. But the older boy +seized his arm. + +"Don't shoot--don't shoot him!" he said. + +"But why not?" + +"'Cause you mustn't--you must never kill a chickadee." + +And the younger, influenced more by a certain mysterious shake of the +head than by the words, slacked his bow cheerfully; and with a last +wide-eyed look at the little gray bird that twittered and swung so +fearlessly near them, the two boys went on with their hunting. + +No one ever taught the older boy to discriminate between a chickadee +and other birds; no one else ever instructed the younger. Yet somehow +both felt, and still feel after many years, that there is a +difference. It is always so with boys. They are friends of whatever +trusts them and is fearless. Chickadee's own personality, his cheery +ways and trustful nature had taught them, though they knew it not. And +among all the boys of that neighborhood there is still a law, which no +man gave, of which no man knows the origin, a law as unalterable as +that of the Medes and Persians: _Never kill a chickadee_. + +If you ask the boy there who tells you the law, "Why not a chickadee +as well as a sparrow?" he shakes his head as of yore, and answers +dogmatically: "'Cause you mustn't." + + * * * * * + +CHICKADEE'S SECRET. + +If you meet Chickadee in May with a bit of rabbit fur in his mouth, or +if he seem preoccupied or absorbed, you may know that he is building a +nest, or has a wife and children near by to take care of. If you know +him well, you may even feel hurt that the little friend, who shared +your camp and fed from your dish last winter, should this spring seem +just as frank, yet never invite you to his camp, or should even lead +you away from it. But the soft little nest in the old knot-hole is the +one secret of Chickadee's life; and the little deceptions by which he +tries to keep it are at times so childlike, so transparent, that they +are even more interesting than his frankness. + +One afternoon in May I was hunting, without a gun, about an old +deserted farm among the hills--one of those sunny places that the +birds love, because some sense of the human beings who once lived +there still clings about the half wild fields and gives protection. +The day was bright and warm. The birds were everywhere, flashing out +of the pine thickets into the birches in all the joyfulness of +nest-building, and filling the air with life and melody. It is poor +hunting to move about at such a time. Either the hunter or his game +must be still. Here the birds were moving constantly; one might see +more of them and their ways by just keeping quiet and invisible. + +I sat down on the outer edge of a pine thicket, and became as much as +possible a part of the old stump which was my seat. Just in front an +old four-rail fence wandered across the deserted pasture, struggling +against the blackberry vines, which grew profusely about it and seemed +to be tugging at the lower rail to pull the old fence down to ruin. On +either side it disappeared into thickets of birch and oak and pitch +pine, planted, as were the blackberry vines, by birds that stopped to +rest a moment on the old fence or to satisfy their curiosity. Stout +young trees had crowded it aside and broken it. Here and there a +leaning post was overgrown with woodbine. The rails were gray and +moss-grown. Nature was trying hard to make it a bit of the landscape; +it could not much longer retain its individuality. The wild things of +the woods had long accepted it as theirs, though not quite as they +accepted the vines and trees. + +As I sat there a robin hurled himself upon it from the top of a young +cedar where he had been, a moment before, practising his mating song. +He did not intend to light, but some idle curiosity, like my own, made +him pause a moment on the old gray rail. Then a woodpecker lit on the +side of a post, and sounded it softly. But he was too near the ground, +too near his enemies to make a noise; so he flew to a higher perch and +beat a tattoo that made the woods ring. He was safe there, and could +make as much noise as he pleased. A wood-mouse stirred the vines and +appeared for an instant on the lower rail, then disappeared as if very +much frightened at having shown himself in the sunlight. He always +does just so at his first appearance. + +Presently a red squirrel rushes out of the thicket at the left, +scurries along the rails and up and down the posts. He goes like a +little red whirlwind, though he has nothing whatever to hurry about. +Just opposite my stump he stops his rush with marvelous suddenness; +chatters, barks, scolds, tries to make me move; then goes on and out +of sight at the same breakneck rush. A jay stops a moment in a young +hickory above the fence to whistle his curiosity, just as if he had +not seen it fifty times before. A curiosity to him never grows old. He +does not scream now; it is his nesting time.--And so on through the +afternoon. The old fence is becoming a part of the woods; and every +wild thing that passes by stops to get acquainted. + +I was weaving an idle history of the old fence, when a chickadee +twittered in the pine behind me. As I turned, he flew over me and lit +on the fence in front. He had something in his beak; so I watched to +find his nest; for I wanted very much to see him at work. Chickadee +had never seemed afraid of me, and I thought he would trust me now. +But he didn't. He would not go near his nest. Instead he began hopping +about the old rail, and pretended to be very busy hunting for insects. + +Presently his mate appeared, and with a sharp note he called her down +beside him. Then both birds hopped and twittered about the rail, with +apparently never a care in the world. The male especially seemed just +in the mood for a frolic. He ran up and down the mossy rail; he +whirled about it till he looked like a little gray pinwheel; he hung +head down by his toes, dropped, and turned like a cat, so as to light +on his feet on the rail below. While watching his performance, I +hardly noticed that his mate had gone till she reappeared suddenly on +the rail beside him. Then he disappeared, while she kept up the +performance on the rail, with more of a twitter, perhaps, and less of +gymnastics. In a few moments both birds were together again and flew +into the pines out of sight. + +[Illustration] + +I had almost forgotten them in watching other birds, when they +reappeared on the rail, ten or fifteen minutes later, and went through +a very similar performance. This was unusual, certainly; and I sat +very quiet, very much interested, though a bit puzzled, and a bit +disappointed that they had not gone to their nest. They had some +material in their beaks both times when they appeared on the rail, and +were now probably off hunting for more--for rabbit fur, perhaps, in +the old orchard. But what had they done with it? "Perhaps," I thought, +"they dropped it to deceive me." Chickadee does that sometimes. "But +why did one bird stay on the rail? Perhaps"--Well, I would look and +see. + +I left my stump as the idea struck me, and began to examine the posts +of the old fence very carefully. Chickadee's nest was there somewhere. +In the second post on the left I found it, a tiny knot-hole, which +Chickadee had hollowed out deep and lined with rabbit fur. It was well +hidden by the vines that almost covered the old post, and gray moss +grew all about the entrance. A prettier nest I never found. + +I went back to my stump and sat down where I could just see the dark +little hole that led to the nest. No other birds interested me now +till the chickadees came back. They were soon there, hopping about on +the rail as before, with just a wee note of surprise in their soft +twitter that I had changed my position. This time I was not to be +deceived by a gymnastic performance, however interesting. I kept my +eyes fastened on the nest. The male was undoubtedly going through with +his most difficult feats, and doing his best to engage my attention, +when I saw his mate glide suddenly from behind the post and disappear +into her doorway. I could hardly be sure it was a bird. It seemed +rather as if the wind had stirred a little bundle of gray moss. Had +she moved slowly I might not have seen her, so closely did her soft +gray cloak blend with the weather-beaten wood and the moss. + +In a few moments she reappeared, waited a moment with her tiny head +just peeking out of the knot-hole, flashed round the post out of +sight, and when I saw her again it was as she reappeared suddenly +beside the male. + +Then I watched him. While his mate whisked about the top rail he +dropped to the middle one, hopped gradually to one side, then dropped +suddenly to the lowest one, half hidden by vines, and disappeared. I +turned my eyes to the nest. In a moment there he was--just a little +gray flash, appearing for an instant from behind the post, only to +disappear into the dark entrance. When he came out again I had but a +glimpse of him till he appeared on the rail near me beside his mate. + +Their little ruse was now quite evident. They had come back from +gathering rabbit fur, and found me unexpectedly near their nest. +Instead of making a fuss and betraying it, as other birds might do, +they lit on the rail before me, and were as sociable as only +chickadees know how to be. While one entertained me, and kept my +attention, the other dropped to the bottom rail and stole along behind +it; then up behind the post that held their nest, and back the same +way, after leaving his material. Then he held my attention while his +mate did the same thing. + +Simple as their little device was, it deceived me at first, and would +have deceived me permanently had I not known something of chickadees' +ways, and found the nest while they were away. Game birds have the +trick of decoying one away from their nest. I am not sure that all +birds do not have more or less of the same instinct; but certainly +none ever before or since used it so well with me as Ch'geegee. + +For two hours or more I sat there beside the pine thicket, while the +chickadees came and went. Sometimes they approached the nest from the +other side, and I did not see them, or perhaps got only a glimpse as +they glided into their doorway. Whenever they approached from my side, +they always stopped on the rail before me and went through with their +little entertainment. Gradually they grew more confident, and were +less careful to conceal their movements than at first. Sometimes only +one came, and after a short performance disappeared. Perhaps they +thought me harmless, or that they had deceived me so well at first +that I did not even suspect them of nest-building. Anyway, I never +pretended I knew. + +As the afternoon wore away, and the sun dropped into the pine tops, +the chickadees grew hungry, and left their work until the morrow. They +were calling among the young birch buds as I left them, busy and +sociable together, hunting their supper. + + + + +XI. A FELLOW OF EXPEDIENTS. + + +[Illustration] + +Among the birds there is one whose personal appearance is rapidly +changing. He illustrates in his present life a process well known +historically to all naturalists, viz., the modification of form +resulting from changed environment. I refer to the golden-winged +woodpecker, perhaps the most beautifully marked bird of the North, +whose names are as varied as his habits and accomplishments. + +Nature intended him to get his living, as do the other woodpeckers, by +boring into old trees and stumps for the insects that live on the +decaying wood. For this purpose she gave him the straight, sharp, +wedge-shaped bill, just calculated for cutting out chips; the very +long horn-tipped tongue for thrusting into the holes he makes; the +peculiar arrangement of toes, two forward and two back; and the stiff, +spiny tail-feathers for supporting himself against the side of a tree +as he works. But getting his living so means hard work, and he has +discovered for himself a much easier way. One now frequently +surprises him on the ground in old pastures and orchards, floundering +about rather awkwardly (for his little feet were never intended for +walking) after the crickets and grasshoppers that abound there. Still +he finds the work of catching them much easier than boring into dry +old trees, and the insects themselves much larger and more +satisfactory. + +A single glance will show how much this new way of living has changed +him from the other woodpeckers. The bill is no longer straight, but +has a decided curve, like the thrushes; and instead of the +chisel-shaped edge there is a rounded point. The red tuft on the head, +which marks all the woodpecker family, would be too conspicuous on the +ground. In its place we find a red crescent well down on the neck, and +partially hidden by the short gray feathers about it. The point of the +tongue is less horny, and from the stiff points of the tail-feathers +lamina are beginning to grow, making them more like other birds'. A +future generation will undoubtedly wonder where this peculiar kind of +thrush got his unusual tongue and tail, just as we wonder at the +deformed little feet and strange ways of a cuckoo. + +The habits of this bird are a curious compound of his old life in the +woods and his new preference for the open fields and farms. Sometimes +the nest is in the very heart of the woods, where the bird glides in +and out, silent as a crow in nesting time. His feeding place meanwhile +may be an old pasture half a mile away, where he calls loudly, and +frolics about as if he had never a care or a fear in the world. But +the nest is now more frequently in a wild orchard, where the bird +finds an old knot-hole and digs down through the soft wood, making a +deep nest with very little trouble. When the knot-hole is not well +situated, he finds a large decayed limb and drills through the outer +hard shell, then digs down a foot or more through the soft wood, and +makes a nest. In this nest the rain never troubles him, for he very +providently drills the entrance on the under side of the limb. + +Like many other birds, he has discovered that the farmer is his +friend. Occasionally, therefore, he neglects to build a deep nest, +simply hollowing out an old knot-hole, and depending on the presence +of man for protection from hawks and owls. At such times the bird very +soon learns to recognize those who belong in the orchard, and loses +the extreme shyness that characterizes him at all other times. + +Once a farmer, knowing my interest in birds, invited me to come and +see a golden-winged woodpecker, which in her confidence had built so +shallow a nest that she could be seen sitting on the eggs like a +robin. She was so tame, he said, that in going to his work he +sometimes passed under the tree without disturbing her. The moment we +crossed the wall within sight of the nest, the bird slipped away out +of the orchard. Wishing to test her, we withdrew and waited till she +returned. Then the farmer passed within a few feet without disturbing +her in the least. Ten minutes later I followed him, and the bird flew +away again as I crossed the wall. + +The notes of the golden-wing--much more varied and musical than those +of other woodpeckers--are probably the results of his new free life, +and the modified tongue and bill. In the woods one seldom hears from +him anything but the rattling _rat-a-tat-tat_, as he hammers away on a +dry old pine stub. As a rule he seems to do this more for the noise it +makes, and the exercise of his abilities, than because he expects to +find insects inside; except in winter time, when he goes back to his +old ways. But out in the fields he has a variety of notes. Sometimes +it is a loud _kee-uk_, like the scream of a blue jay divided into two +syllables, with the accent on the last. Again it is a loud cheery +whistling call, of very short notes run close together, with accent on +every other one. Again he teeters up and down on the end of an old +fence rail with a rollicking _eekoo, eekoo, eekoo_, that sounds more +like a laugh than anything else among the birds. In most of his +musical efforts the golden-wing, instead of clinging to the side of a +tree, sits across the limb, like other birds. + +A curious habit which the bird has adopted with advancing civilization +is that of providing himself with a sheltered sleeping place from the +storms and cold of winter. Late in the fall he finds a deserted +building, and after a great deal of shy inspection, to satisfy himself +that no one is within, drills a hole through the side. He has then a +comfortable place to sleep, and an abundance of decaying wood in which +to hunt insects on stormy days. An ice-house is a favorite location +for him, the warm sawdust furnishing a good burrowing place for a nest +or sleeping room. When a building is used as a nesting place, the bird +very cunningly drills the entrance close up under the eaves, where it +is sheltered from storms, and at the same time out of sight of all +prying eyes. + +During the winter several birds often occupy one building together. I +know of one old deserted barn where last year five of the birds lived +very peaceably; though what they were doing there in the daytime I +could never quite make out. At almost any hour of the day, if one +approached very cautiously and thumped the side of the barn, some of +the birds would dash out in great alarm, never stopping to look behind +them. At first there were but three entrances; but after I had +surprised them a few times, two more were added; whether to get out +more quickly when all were inside, or simply for the sake of drilling +the holes, I do not know. Sometimes a pair of birds will have five or +six holes drilled, generally on the same side of the building. + +Two things about my family in the old barn aroused my curiosity--what +they were doing there by day, and how they got out so quickly when +alarmed. The only way it seemed possible for them to dash out on the +instant, as they did, was to fly straight through. But the holes were +too small, and no bird but a bank-swallow would have attempted such a +thing. + +One day I drove the birds out, then crawled in under a sill on the +opposite side, and hid in a corner of the loft without disturbing +anything inside. It was a long wait in the stuffy old place before one +of the birds came back. I heard him light first on the roof; then his +little head appeared at one of the holes as he sat just below, against +the side of the barn, looking and listening before coming in. Quite +satisfied after a minute or two that nobody was inside, he scrambled +in and flew down to a corner in which was a lot of old hay and +rubbish. Here he began a great rustle and stirring about, like a +squirrel in autumn leaves, probably after insects, though it was too +dark to see just what he was doing. It sounded part of the time as if +he were scratching aside the hay, much as a hen would have done. If +so, his two little front toes must have made sad work of it, with the +two hind ones always getting doubled up in the way. When I thumped +suddenly against the side of the barn, he hurled himself like a shot +at one of the holes, alighting just below it, and stuck there in a way +that reminded me of the chewed-paper balls that boys used to throw +against the blackboard in school. I could hear plainly the thump of +his little feet as he struck. With the same movement, and without +pausing an instant, he dived through headlong, aided by a spring from +his tail, much as a jumping jack goes over the head of his stick, only +much more rapidly. Hardly had he gone before another appeared, to go +through the same program. + +Though much shyer than other birds of the farm, he often ventures up +close to the house and doorway in the early morning, before any one is +stirring. One spring morning I was awakened by a strange little +pattering sound, and, opening my eyes, was astonished to see one of +these birds on the sash of the open window within five feet of my +hand. Half closing my eyes, I kept very still and watched. Just in +front of him, on the bureau, was a stuffed golden-wing, with wings and +tail spread to show to best advantage the beautiful plumage. He had +seen it in flying by, and now stood hopping back and forth along +the window sash, uncertain whether to come in or not. Sometimes he +spread his wings as if on the point of flying in; then he would turn +his head to look curiously at me and at the strange surroundings, and, +afraid to venture in, endeavor to attract the attention of the stuffed +bird, whose head was turned away. In the looking-glass he saw his own +movements repeated. Twice he began his love call very softly, but cut +it short, as if frightened. The echo of the small room made it seem so +different from the same call in the open fields that I think he +doubted even his own voice. + +[Illustration] + +Almost over his head, on a bracket against the wall, was another bird, +a great hawk, pitched forward on his perch, with wings wide spread and +fierce eyes glaring downward, in the intense attitude a hawk takes as +he strikes his prey from some lofty watch tree. The golden-wing by +this time was ready to venture in. He had leaned forward with wings +spread, looking down at me to be quite sure I was harmless, when, +turning his head for a final look round, he caught sight of the hawk +just ready to pounce down on him. With a startled _kee-uk_ he fairly +tumbled back off the window sash, and I caught one glimpse of him as +he dashed round the corner in full flight. + +What were his impressions, I wonder, as he sat on a limb of the old +apple tree and thought it all over? Do birds have romances? How much +greater wonders had he seen than those of any romance! And do they +have any means of communicating them, as they sing their love songs? +What a wonderful story he could tell, a real story, of a magic palace +full of strange wonders; of a glittering bit of air that made him see +himself; of a giant, all in white, with only his head visible; of an +enchanted beauty, stretching her wings in mute supplication for some +brave knight to touch her and break the spell, while on high a fierce +dragon-hawk kept watch, ready to eat up any one who should dare enter! + +And of course none of the birds would believe him. He would have to +spend the rest of his life explaining; and the others would only +whistle, and call him _Iagoo_, the lying woodpecker. On the whole, it +would be better for a bird with such a very unusual experience to keep +still about it. + + + + +XII. A TEMPERANCE LESSON FOR THE HORNETS. + + +[Illustration] + +Last spring a hornet, one of those long brown double chaps that boys +call mud-wasps, crept out of his mud shell at the top of my window +casing, and buzzed in the sunshine till I opened the window and let +him go. Perhaps he remembered his warm quarters, or told a companion; +for when the last sunny days of October were come, there was a hornet, +buzzing persistently at the same window till it opened and let him in. + +It was a rather rickety old room, though sunny and very pleasant, +which had been used as a study by generations of theological students. +Moreover, it was considered clean all over, like a boy with his face +washed, when the floor was swept; and no storm of general house +cleaning ever disturbed its peace. So overhead, where the ceiling +sagged from the walls, and in dusty chinks about doors and windows +that no broom ever harried, a family of spiders, some mice, a +daddy-long-legs, two crickets, and a bluebottle fly, besides the +hornet, found snug quarters in their season, and a welcome. + +The hornet stayed about, contentedly enough, for a week or more, +crawling over the window panes till they were thoroughly explored, and +occasionally taking a look through the scattered papers on the table. +Once he sauntered up to the end of the penholder I was using, and +stayed there, balancing himself, spreading his wings, and looking +interested while the greater part of a letter was finished. Then he +crawled down over my fingers till he wet his feet in the ink; +whereupon he buzzed off in high dudgeon to dry them in the sun. + +At first he was sociable enough, and peaceable as one could wish; but +one night, when it was chilly, he stowed himself away to sleep under +the pillow. When I laid my head upon it, he objected to the extra +weight, and drove me ignominiously from my own bed. Another time he +crawled into a handkerchief. When I picked it up to use it, after the +light was out, he stung me on the nose, not understanding the +situation. In whacking him off I broke one of his legs, and made his +wings all awry. After that he would have nothing more to do with me, +but kept to his own window as long as the fine weather lasted. + +When the November storms came, he went up to a big crack in the window +casing, whence he had emerged in the spring, and crept in, and went +to sleep. It was pleasant there, and at noontime, on days when the sun +shone, it streamed brightly into his doorway, waking him out of his +winter sleep. As late as December he would come out occasionally at +midday to walk about and spread his wings in the sun. Then a +snow-storm came, and he disappeared for two weeks. + +[Illustration] + +One day, when a student was sick, a tumbler of medicine had been +carelessly left on the broad window sill. It contained a few lumps of +sugar, over which a mixture of whiskey and glycerine had been poured. +The sugar melted gradually in the sun, and a strong odor of alcohol +rose from the sticky stuff. That and the sunshine must have roused my +hornet guest, for when I came back to the room, there he lay by the +tumbler, dead drunk. + +He was stretched out on his side, one wing doubled under him, a +forward leg curled over his head, a sleepy, boozy, perfectly ludicrous +expression on his pointed face. I poked him a bit with my finger, to +see how the alcohol affected his temper. He rose unsteadily, staggered +about, and knocked his head against the tumbler; at which fancied +insult he raised his wings in a limp kind of dignity and defiance, +buzzing a challenge. But he lost his legs, and fell down; and +presently, in spite of pokings, went off into a drunken sleep again. + +All the afternoon he lay there. As it grew cooler he stirred about +uneasily. At dusk he started up for his nest. It was a hard pull to +get there. His head was heavy, and his legs shaky. Half way up, he +stopped on top of the lower sash to lie down awhile. He had a terrible +headache, evidently; he kept rubbing his head with his fore legs as if +to relieve the pain. After a fall or two on the second sash, he +reached the top, and tumbled into his warm nest to sleep off the +effects of his spree. + +One such lesson should have been enough; but it wasn't. Perhaps, +also, I should have put temptation out of his way; for I knew that all +hornets, especially yellow-jackets, are hopeless topers when they get +a chance; that when a wasp discovers a fermenting apple, it is all up +with his steady habits; that when a nest of them discover a cider +mill, all work, even the care of the young, is neglected. They take to +drinking, and get utterly demoralized. But in the interest of a new +experiment I forgot true kindness, and left the tumbler where it was. + +The next day, at noon, he was stretched out on the sill, drunk again. +For three days he kept up his tippling, coming out when the sun shone +warmly, and going straight to the fatal tumbler. On the fourth day he +paid the penalty of his intemperance. + +The morning was very bright, and the janitor had left the hornet's +window slightly open. At noon he was lying on the window sill, drunk +as usual. I was in a hurry to take a train, and neglected to close the +window. Late at night, when I came back to my room, he was gone. He +was not on the sill, nor on the floor, nor under the window cushions. +His nest in the casing, where I had so often watched him asleep, was +empty. Taking a candle, I went out to search under the window. There I +found him in the snow, his legs curled up close to his body, frozen +stiff with the drip of the eaves. + +I carried him in and warmed him at the fire, but it was too late. He +had been drunk once too often. When I saw that he was dead, I stowed +him away in the nest he had been seeking when he fell out into the +snow. I tried to read; but the book seemed dull. Every little while I +got up to look at him, lying there with his little pointed face, still +dead. At last I wrapped him up, and pushed him farther in, out of +sight. + +All the while the empty tumbler seemed to look at me reproachfully +from the window sill. + + + + +XIII. SNOWY VISITORS. + + +[Illustration] + +Over my table, as I write, is a big snowy owl whose yellow eyes seem +to be always watching me, whatever I do. Perhaps he is still wondering +at the curious way in which I shot him. + +One stormy afternoon, a few winters ago, I was black-duck shooting at +sundown, by a lonely salt creek that doubled across the marshes from +Maddaket Harbor. In the shadow of a low ridge I had built my blind +among some bushes, near the freshest water. In front of me a solitary +decoy was splashing about in joyous freedom after having been confined +all day, quacking loudly at the loneliness of the place and at being +separated from her mate. Beside me, crouched in the blind, my old dog +Don was trying his best to shiver himself warm without disturbing the +bushes too much. That would have frightened the incoming ducks, as Don +knew very well. + +It grew dark and bitterly cold. No birds were flying, and I had stood +up a moment to let the blood down into half-frozen toes, when a shadow +seemed to pass over my head. The next moment there was a splash, +followed by loud quacks of alarm from the decoy. All I could make out, +in the obscurity under the ridge, was a flutter of wings that rose +heavily from the water, taking my duck with them. Only the anchor +string prevented the marauder from getting away with his booty. Not +wishing to shoot, for the decoy was a valuable one, I shouted +vigorously, and sent out the dog. The decoy dropped with a splash, and +in the darkness the thief got away--just vanished, like a shadow, +without a sound. + +[Illustration] + +Poor ducky died in my hands a few moments later, the marks of sharp +claws telling me plainly that the thief was an owl, though I had no +suspicion then that it was the rare winter visitor from the north. I +supposed, of course, that it was only a great-horned-owl, and so laid +plans to get him. + +Next night I was at the same spot with a good duck call, and some +wooden decoys, over which the skins of wild ducks had been carefully +stretched. An hour after dark he came again, attracted, no doubt, by +the continued quacking. I had another swift glimpse of what seemed +only a shadow; saw it poise and shoot downward before I could find it +with my gun sight, striking the decoys with a great splash and +clatter. Before he discovered his mistake or could get started again, +I had him. The next moment Don came ashore, proud as a peacock, +bringing a great snowy owl with him--a rare prize, worth ten times the +trouble we had taken to get it. + +Owls are generally very lean and muscular; so much so, in severe +winters, that they are often unable to fly straight when the wind +blows; and a twenty-knot breeze catches their broad wings and tosses +them about helplessly. This one, however, was fat as a plover. When I +stuffed him, I found that he had just eaten a big rat and a +meadow-lark, hair, bones, feathers and all. It would be interesting to +know what he intended to do with the duck. Perhaps, like the crow, he +has snug hiding places here and there, where he keeps things against a +time of need. + +Every severe winter a few of these beautiful owls find their way to +the lonely places of the New England coast, driven southward, no +doubt, by lack of food in the frozen north. Here in Massachusetts they +seem to prefer the southern shores of Cape Cod, and especially the +island of Nantucket, where besides the food cast up by the tides, +there are larks and blackbirds and robins, which linger more or less +all winter. At home in the far north, the owls feed largely upon hares +and grouse; here nothing comes amiss, from a stray cat, roving too far +from the house, to stray mussels on the beach that have escaped the +sharp eyes of sea-gulls. + +Some of his hunting ways are most curious. One winter day, in prowling +along the beach, I approached the spot where a day or two before I had +been shooting whistlers (golden-eye ducks) over decoys. The blind had +been made by digging a hole in the sand. In the bottom was an armful +of dry seaweed, to keep one's toes warm, and just behind the stand was +the stump of a ship's mainmast, the relic of some old storm and +shipwreck, cast up by the tide. + +A commotion of some kind was going on in the blind as I drew near. +Sand and bunches of seaweed were hurled up at intervals to be swept +aside by the wind. Instantly I dropped out of sight into the dead +beach grass to watch and listen. Soon a white head and neck bristled +up from behind the old mast, every feather standing straight out +ferociously. The head was perfectly silent a moment, listening; then +it twisted completely round twice so as to look in every direction. A +moment later it had disappeared, and the seaweed was flying again. + +There was a prize in the old blind evidently. But what was he doing +there? Till then I had supposed that the owl always takes his game +from the wing. Farther along the beach was a sand bluff overlooking +the proceedings. I gained it after a careful stalk, crept to the edge, +and looked over. Down in the blind a big snowy owl was digging away +like a Trojan, tearing out sand and seaweed with his great claws, +first one foot, then the other, like a hungry hen, and sending it up +in showers behind him over the old mast. Every few moments he would +stop suddenly, bristle up all his feathers till he looked comically +big and fierce, take a look out over the log and along the beach, then +fall to digging again furiously. + +I suppose that the object of this bristling up before each observation +was to strike terror into the heart of any enemy that might be +approaching to surprise him at his unusual work. It is an owl trick. +Wounded birds always use it when approached. + +And the object of the digging? That was perfectly evident. A beach rat +had jumped down into the blind, after some fragments of lunch, +undoubtedly, and being unable to climb out, had started to tunnel up +to the surface. The owl heard him at work, and started a stern chase. +He won, too, for right in the midst of a fury of seaweed he shot up +with the rat in his claws--so suddenly that he almost escaped me. Had +it not been for the storm and his underground digging, he surely +would have heard me long before I could get near enough to see what he +was doing; for his eyes and ears are wonderfully keen. + +In his southern visits, or perhaps on the ice fields of the Arctic +ocean, he has discovered a more novel way of procuring his food than +digging for it. He has turned fisherman and learned to fish. Once only +have I seen him get his dinner in this way. It was on the north shore +of Nantucket, one day in the winter of 1890-91, when the remarkable +flight of white owls came down from the north. The chord of the bay +was full of floating ice, and swimming about the shoals were thousands +of coots. While watching the latter through my field-glass, I noticed +a snowy owl standing up still and straight on the edge of a big ice +cake. "Now what is that fellow doing there?" I thought.--"I know! He +is trying to drift down close to that flock of coots before they see +him." + +That was interesting; so I sat down on a rock to watch. Whenever I +took my eyes from him a moment, it was difficult to find him again, so +perfectly did his plumage blend with the white ice upon which he stood +motionless. + +But he was not after the coots. I saw him lean forward suddenly and +plunge a foot into the water. Then, when he hopped back from the edge, +and appeared to be eating something, it dawned upon me that he was +fishing--and fishing like a true sportsman, out on the ice alone, with +only his own skill to depend upon. In a few minutes he struck again, +and this time rose with a fine fish, which he carried to the shore to +devour at leisure. + +For a long time that fish was to me the most puzzling thing in the +whole incident; for at that season no fish are to be found, except in +deep water off shore. Some weeks later I learned that, just previous +to the incident, several fishermen's dories, with full fares, had been +upset on the east side of the island when trying to land through a +heavy surf. The dead fish had been carried around by the tides, and +the owl had been deceived into showing his method of fishing. +Undoubtedly, in his northern home, when the ice breaks up and the +salmon are running, he goes fishing from an ice cake as a regular +occupation. + +The owl lit upon a knoll, not two hundred yards from where I sat +motionless, and gave me a good opportunity of watching him at his +meal. He treated the fish exactly as he would have treated a rat or +duck: stood on it with one foot, gripped the long claws of the other +through it, and tore it to pieces savagely, as one would a bit of +paper. The beak was not used, except to receive the pieces, which were +conveyed up to it by his foot, as a parrot eats. He devoured +everything--fins, tail, skin, head, and most of the bones, in great +hungry mouthfuls. Then he hopped to the top of the knoll, sat up +straight, puffed out his feathers to look big, and went to sleep. But +with the first slight movement I made to creep nearer, he was wide +awake and flew to a higher point. Such hearing is simply marvelous. + +The stomach of an owl is peculiar, there being no intermediate crop, +as in other birds. Every part of his prey small enough (and the mouth +and throat of an owl are large out of all proportion) is greedily +swallowed. Long after the flesh is digested, feathers, fur, and bones +remain in the stomach, softened by acids, till everything is absorbed +that can afford nourishment, even to the quill shafts, and the ends +and marrow of bones. The dry remains are then rolled into large +pellets by the stomach, and disgorged. + +This, by the way, suggests the best method of finding an owl's haunts. +It is to search, not overhead, but on the ground under large trees, +till a pile of these little balls, of dry feathers and hair and bones, +reveals the nest or roosting place above. + +It seems rather remarkable that my fisherman-owl did not make a try at +the coots that were so plenty about him. Rarely, I think, does he +attempt to strike a bird of any kind in the daytime. His long training +at the north, where the days are several months long, has adapted his +eyes to seeing perfectly, both in sunshine and in darkness; and with +us he spends the greater part of each day hunting along the beaches. +The birds at such times are never molested. He seems to know that he +is not good at dodging; that they are all quicker than he, and are not +to be caught napping. And the birds, even the little birds, have no +fear of him in the sunshine; though they shiver themselves to sleep +when they think of him at night. + +I have seen the snowbirds twittering contentedly near him. Once I saw +him fly out to sea in the midst of a score of gulls, which paid no +attention to him. At another time I saw him fly over a large flock of +wild ducks that were preening themselves in the grass. He kept +straight on; and the ducks, so far as I could see, merely stopped +their toilet for an instant, and turned up one eye so as to see him +better. Had it been dusk, the whole flock would have shot up into the +air at the first startled quack--all but one, which would have stayed +with the owl. + +His favorite time for hunting is the hour after dusk, or just before +daylight, when the birds are restless on the roost. No bird is safe +from him then. The fierce eyes search through every tree and bush and +bunch of grass. The keen ears detect every faintest chirp, or rustle, +or scratching of tiny claws on the roost. Nothing that can be called a +sound escapes them. The broad, soft wings tell no tale of his +presence, and his swoop is swift and sure. He utters no sound. Like a +good Nimrod he hunts silently. + +The flight of an owl, noiseless as the sweep of a cloud shadow, is the +most remarkable thing about him. The wings are remarkably adapted to +the silent movement that is essential to surprising birds at dusk. The +feathers are long and soft. The laminæ extending from the wing quills, +instead of ending in the sharp feather edge of other birds, are all +drawn out to fine hair points, through which the air can make no sound +as it rushes in the swift wing-beats. The _whish_ of a duck's wings +can be heard two or three hundred yards on a still night. The wings of +an eagle rustle like silk in the wind as he mounts upward. A sparrow's +wings flutter or whir as he changes his flight. Every one knows the +startled rush of a quail or grouse. But no ear ever heard the passing +of a great owl, spreading his five-foot wings in rapid flight. + +He knows well, however, when to vary his program. Once I saw him +hovering at dusk over some wild land covered with bushes and dead +grass, a favorite winter haunt of meadow-larks. His manner showed that +he knew his game was near. He kept hovering over a certain spot, +swinging off noiselessly to right or left, only to return again. +Suddenly he struck his wings twice over his head with a loud flap, and +swooped instantly. It was a clever trick. The bird beneath had been +waked by the sound, or startled into turning his head. With the first +movement the owl had him. + +All owls have the habit of sitting still upon some high point which +harmonizes with the general color of their feathers, and swooping upon +any sound or movement that indicates game. The long-eared, or +eagle-owl invariably selects a dark colored stub, on top of which he +appears as a part of the tree itself, and is seldom noticed; while the +snowy owl, whose general color is soft gray, will search out a birch +or a lightning-blasted stump, and sitting up still and straight, so +hide himself in plain sight that it takes a good eye to find him. + +The swooping habit leads them into queer mistakes sometimes. Two or +three times, when sitting or lying still in the woods watching for +birds, my head has been mistaken for a rat or squirrel, or some other +furry quadruped, by owls, which swooped and brushed me with their +wings, and once left the marks of their claws, before discovering +their mistake. + +Should any boy reader ever have the good fortune to discover one of +these rare birds some winter day in tramping along the beaches, and +wish to secure him as a specimen, let him not count on the old idea +that an owl cannot see in the daytime. On the contrary, let him +proceed exactly as he would in stalking a deer: get out of sight, and +to leeward, if possible; then take every advantage of bush and rock +and beach-grass to creep within range, taking care to advance only +when his eyes are turned away, and remembering that his ears are keen +enough to detect the passing of a mouse in the grass from an +incredible distance. + +Sometimes the crows find one of these snowy visitors on the beach, and +make a great fuss and racket, as they always do when an owl is in +sight. At such times he takes his stand under a bank, or in the lee of +a rock, where the crows cannot trouble him from behind, and sits +watching them fiercely. Woe be to the one that ventures too near. A +plunge, a grip of his claw, a weak _caw_, and it's all over. That +seems to double the crows' frenzy--and that is the one moment when you +can approach rapidly from behind. But you must drop flat when the +crows perceive you; for the owl is sure to take a look around for the +cause of their sudden alarm. If he sees nothing suspicious he will +return to his shelter to eat his crow, or just to rest his sensitive +ears after all the pother. A quarter-mile away the crows sit silent, +watching you and him. + +And now a curious thing happens. The crows, that a moment ago were +clamoring angrily about their enemy, watch with a kind of intense +interest as you creep towards him. Half way to the rock behind which +he is hiding, they guess your purpose, and a low rapid chatter begins +among them. One would think that they would exult in seeing him +surprised and killed; but that is not crow nature. They would gladly +worry the owl to death if they could, but they will not stand by and +see him slain by a common enemy. The chatter ceases suddenly. Two or +three swift fliers leave the flock, circle around you, and speed over +the rock, uttering short notes of alarm. With the first sharp note, +which all birds seem to understand, the owl springs into the air, +turns, sees you, and is off up the beach. The crows rush after him +with crazy clamor, and speedily drive him to cover again. But spare +yourself more trouble. It is useless to try stalking any game while +the crows are watching. + +Sometimes you can drive or ride quite near to one of these birds, the +horse apparently removing all his suspicion. But if you are on foot, +take plenty of time and care and patience, and shoot your prize on the +first stalk if possible. Once alarmed, he will lead you a long chase, +and most likely escape in the end. + +I learned the wisdom of this advice in connection with the first snowy +owl I had ever met outside a museum. I surprised him early one winter +morning eating a brant, which he had caught asleep on the shore. He +saw me, and kept making short flights from point to point in a great +circle--five miles, perhaps, and always in the open--evidently loath +to abandon his feast to the crows; while I followed with growing +wonder and respect, trying every device of the still hunter to creep +within range. That was the same owl which I last saw at dusk, flying +straight out to sea among the gulls. + + + + +[Illustration: A CHRISTMAS CAROL] + +XIV. + + +The Christmas carol, sung by a chorus of fresh children's voices, is +perhaps the most perfect expression of the spirit of Christmastide. +Especially is this true of the old English and German carols, which +seem to grow only sweeter, more mellow, more perfectly expressive of +the love and good-will that inspired them, as the years go by. Yet +always at Christmas time there is with me the memory of one carol +sweeter than all, which was sung to me alone by a little minstrel from +the far north, with the wind in the pines humming a soft +accompaniment. + + * * * * * + +Doubtless many readers have sometimes seen in winter flocks of +stranger birds--fluffy gray visitors, almost as large as a +robin--flying about the lawns with soft whistling calls, or feeding on +the ground, so tame and fearless that they barely move aside as you +approach. The beak is short and thick; the back of the head and a +large patch just above the tail are golden brown; and across the wings +are narrow double bars of white. All the rest is soft gray, dark above +and light beneath. If you watch them on the ground, you will see that +they have a curious way of moving about like a golden-winged +woodpecker in the same position. Sometimes they put one foot before +the other, in funny little attempt at a dignified walk, like the +blackbirds; again they hop like a robin, but much more awkwardly, as +if they were not accustomed to walking and did not quite know how to +use their feet--which is quite true. + +The birds are pine-grosbeaks, and are somewhat irregular winter +visitors from the far north. Only when the cold is most severe, and +the snow lies deep about Hudson Bay, do they leave their nesting +places to spend a few weeks in bleak New England as a winter resort. +Their stay with us is short and uncertain. Long ere the first bluebird +has whistled to us from the old fence rail that, if we please, spring +is coming, the grosbeaks are whistling of spring, and singing their +love songs in the forests of Labrador. + +A curious thing about the flocks we see in winter is that they are +composed almost entirely of females. The male bird is very rare with +us. You can tell him instantly by his brighter color and his +beautiful crimson breast. Sometimes the flocks contain a few young +males, but until the first mating season has tipped their breast +feathers with deep crimson they are almost indistinguishable from +their sober colored companions. + +This crimson breast shield, by the way, is the family mark or coat of +arms of the grosbeaks, just as the scarlet crest marks all the +woodpeckers. And if you ask a Micmac, deep in the woods, how the +grosbeak got his shield, he may tell you a story that will interest +you as did the legend of Hiawatha and the woodpecker in your childhood +days. + +If the old male, with his proud crimson, be rare with us, his +beautiful song is still more so. Only in the deep forests, by the +lonely rivers of the far north, where no human ear ever hears, does he +greet the sunrise from the top of some lofty spruce. There also he +pours into the ears of his sober little gray wife the sweetest love +song of the birds. It is a flood of soft warbling notes, tinkling like +a brook deep under the ice, tumbling over each other in a quiet +ecstasy of harmony; mellow as the song of the hermit-thrush, but much +softer, as if he feared lest any should hear but her to whom he sang. +Those who know the music of the rose-breasted grosbeak (not his +robin-like song of spring, but the exquisitely soft warble to his +brooding mate) may multiply its sweetness indefinitely, and so form +an idea of what the pine-grosbeak's song is like. + +But sometimes he forgets himself in his winter visit, and sings as +other birds do, just because his world is bright; and then, once in a +lifetime, a New England bird lover hears him, and remembers; and +regrets for the rest of his life that the grosbeak's northern country +life has made him so shy a visitor. + + * * * * * + +One Christmas morning, a few years ago, the new-fallen snow lay white +and pure over all the woods and fields. It was soft and clinging as it +fell on Christmas eve. Now every old wall and fence was a carved bench +of gleaming white; every post and stub had a soft white robe and a +tall white hat; and every little bush and thicket was a perfect +fairyland of white arches and glistening columns, and dark grottoes +walled about with delicate frostwork of silver and jewels. And then +the glory, dazzling beyond all words, when the sun rose and shone upon +it! + +Before sunrise I was out. Soon the jumping flight and cheery +good-morning of a downy woodpecker led me to an old field with +scattered evergreen clumps. There is no better time for a quiet peep +at the birds than the morning after a snow-storm, and no better place +than the evergreens. If you can find them at all (which is not +certain, for they have mysterious ways of disappearing before a +storm), you will find them unusually quiet, and willing to bear your +scrutiny indifferently, instead of flying off into deeper coverts. + +I had scarcely crossed the wall when I stopped at hearing a new bird +song, so amazingly sweet that it could only be a Christmas message, +yet so out of place that the listener stood doubting whether his ears +were playing him false, wondering whether the music or the landscape +would not suddenly vanish as an unreal thing. The song was +continuous--a soft melodious warble, full of sweetness and suggestion; +but suggestion of June meadows and a summer sunrise, rather than of +snow-packed evergreens and Christmastide. To add to the unreality, no +ear could tell where the song came from; its own muffled quality +disguised the source perfectly. I searched the trees in front; there +was no bird there. I looked behind; there was no place for a bird to +sing. I remembered the redstart, how he calls sometimes from among the +rocks, and refuses to show himself, and runs and hides when you look +for him. I searched the wall; but not a bird track marked the snow. +All the while the wonderful carol went on, now in the air, now close +beside me, growing more and more bewildering as I listened. It took me +a good half-hour to locate the sound; then I understood. + +Near me was a solitary fir tree with a bushy top. The bird, whoever he +was, had gone to sleep up there, close against the trunk, as birds do, +for protection. During the night the soft snow gathered thicker and +thicker upon the flexible branches. Their tips bent with the weight +till they touched the trunk below, forming a green bower, about which +the snow packed all night long, till it was completely closed in. The +bird was a prisoner inside, and singing as the morning sun shone in +through the walls of his prison-house. + +As I listened, delighted with the carol and the minstrel's novel +situation, a mass of snow, loosened by the sun, slid from the snow +bower, and a pine-grosbeak appeared in the doorway. A moment he seemed +to look about curiously over the new, white, beautiful world; then he +hopped to the topmost twig and, turning his crimson breast to the +sunrise, poured out his morning song; no longer muffled, but sweet and +clear as a wood-thrush bell ringing the sunset. + +Once, long afterward, I heard his softer love song, and found his nest +in the heart of a New Brunswick forest. Till then it was not known +that he ever built south of Labrador. But even that, and the joy of +discovery, lacked the charm of this rare sweet carol, coming all +unsought and unexpected, as good things do, while our own birds were +spending the Christmas time and singing the sunrise in Florida. + + + + +XV. MOOWEEN THE BEAR. + + +[Illustration] + +Ever since nursery times Bruin has been largely a creature of +imagination. He dwells there a ferocious beast, prowling about gloomy +woods, red eyed and dangerous, ready to rush upon the unwary traveler +and eat him on the spot. + +Sometimes, indeed, we have seen him out of imagination. There he is a +poor, tired, clumsy creature, footsore and dusty, with a halter round +his neck, and a swarthy foreigner to make his life miserable. At the +word he rises to his hind legs, hunches his shoulders, and lunges +awkwardly round in a circle, while the foreigner sings _Horry, horry, +dum-dum_, and his wife passes the hat. + +We children pity the bear, as we watch, and forget the other animal +that frightens us when near the woods at night. But he passes on at +last, with a troop of boys following to the town limits. Next day +Bruin comes back, and lives in imagination as ugly and frightful as +ever. + +But Mooween the Bear, as the northern Indians call him, the animal +that lives up in the woods of Maine and Canada, is a very different +kind of creature. He is big and glossy black, with long white teeth +and sharp black claws, like the imagination bear. Unlike him, however, +he is shy and wild, and timid as any rabbit. When you camp in the +wilderness at night, the rabbit will come out of his form in the ferns +to pull at your shoe, or nibble a hole in the salt bag, while you +sleep. He will play twenty pranks under your very eyes. But if you +would see Mooween, you must camp many summers, and tramp many a weary +mile through the big forests before catching a glimpse of him, or +seeing any trace save the deep tracks, like a barefoot boy's, left in +some soft bit of earth in his hurried flight. + +Mooween's ears are quick, and his nose very keen. The slightest +warning from either will generally send him off to the densest cover +or the roughest hillside in the neighborhood. Silently as a black +shadow he glides away, if he has detected your approach from a +distance. But if surprised and frightened, he dashes headlong through +the brush with crash of branches, and bump of fallen logs, and volleys +of dirt and dead wood flung out behind him as he digs his toes into +the hillside in his frantic haste to be away. + +In the first startled instant of such an encounter, one thinks there +must be twenty bears scrambling up the hill. And if you should +perchance get a glimpse of the game, you will be conscious chiefly of +a funny little pair of wrinkled black feet, turned up at you so +rapidly that they actually seem to twinkle through a cloud of flying +loose stuff. + +That was the way in which I first met Mooween. He was feeding +peaceably on blueberries, just stuffing himself with the ripe fruit +that tinged with blue a burned hillside, when I came round the turn of +a deer path. There he was, the mighty, ferocious beast--and my only +weapon a trout-rod! + +We discovered each other at the same instant. Words can hardly measure +the mutual consternation. I felt scared; and in a moment it flashed +upon me that he looked so. This last observation was like a breath of +inspiration. It led me to make a demonstration before he should regain +his wits. I jumped forward with a flourish, and threw my hat at him.-- + +_Boo!_ said I. + +_Hoof, woof!_ said Mooween. And away he went up the hill in a +desperate scramble, with loose stones rattling, and the bottoms of his +feet showing constantly through the volley of dirt and chips flung out +behind him. + +That killed the fierce imagination bear of childhood days deader than +any bullet could have done, and convinced me that Mooween is at heart +a timid creature. Still, this was a young bear, as was also one other +upon whom I tried the same experiment, with the same result. Had he +been older and bigger, it might have been different. In that case I +have found that a good rule is to go your own way unobtrusively, +leaving Mooween to his devices. All animals, whether wild or domestic, +respect a man who neither fears nor disturbs them. + +Mooween's eyes are his weak point. They are close together, and seem +to focus on the ground a few feet in front of his nose. At twenty +yards to leeward he can never tell you from a stump or a caribou, +should you chance to be standing still. + +If fortunate enough to find the ridge where he sleeps away the long +summer days, one is almost sure to get a glimpse of him by watching on +the lake below. It is necessary only to sit perfectly still in your +canoe among the water-grasses near shore. When near a lake, a bear +will almost invariably come down about noontime to sniff carefully all +about, and lap the water, and perhaps find a dead fish before going +back for his afternoon sleep. + +Four or five times I have sat thus in my canoe while Mooween passed +close by, and never suspected my presence till a chirp drew his +attention. It is curious at such times, when there is no wind to bring +the scent to his keen nose, to see him turn his head to one side, and +wrinkle his forehead in the vain endeavor to make out the curious +object there in the grass. At last he rises on his hind legs, and +stares long and intently. It seems as if he must recognize you, with +his nose pointing straight at you, his eyes looking straight into +yours. But he drops on all fours again, and glides silently into the +thick bushes that fringe the shore. + +Don't stir now, nor make the least sound. He is in there, just out of +sight, sitting on his haunches, using nose and ears to catch your +slightest message. + +Ten minutes pass by in intense silence. Down on the shore, fifty yards +below, a slight swaying of the bilberry bushes catches your eye. That +surely is not the bear! There has not been a sound since he +disappeared. A squirrel could hardly creep through that underbrush +without noise enough to tell where he was. But the bushes sway again, +and Mooween reappears suddenly for another long look at the suspicious +object. Then he turns and plods his way along shore, rolling his head +from side to side as if completely mystified. + +Now swing your canoe well out into the lake, and head him off on the +point, a quarter of a mile below. Hold the canoe quiet just outside +the lily pads by grasping a few tough stems, and sit low. This time +the big object catches Mooween's eye as he rounds the point; and you +have only to sit still to see him go through the same maneuvers with +greater mystification than before. + +Once, however, he varied his program, and gave me a terrible start, +letting me know for a moment just how it feels to be hunted, at the +same time showing with what marvelous stillness he can glide through +the thickest cover when he chooses. + +It was early evening on a forest lake. The water lay like a great +mirror, with the sunset splendor still upon it. The hush of twilight +was over the wilderness. Only the hermit-thrushes sang wild and sweet +from a hundred dead spruce tops. + +I was drifting about, partly in the hope to meet Mooween, whose tracks +were very numerous at the lower end of the lake, when I heard him +walking in the shallow water. Through the glass I made him out against +the shore, as he plodded along in my direction. + +I had long been curious to know how near a bear would come to a man +without discovering him. Here was an opportunity. The wind at sunset +had been in my favor; now there was not the faintest breath stirring. + +Hiding the canoe, I sat down in the sand on a little point, where +dense bushes grew down to within a few feet of the water's edge. Head +and shoulders were in plain sight above the water-grass. My intentions +were wholly peaceable, notwithstanding the rifle that lay across my +knees. It was near the mating season, when Mooween's temper is often +dangerous; and one felt much more comfortable with the chill of the +cold iron in his hands. + +Mooween came rapidly along the shore meanwhile, evidently anxious to +reach the other end of the lake. In the mating season bears use the +margins of lakes and streams as natural highways. As he drew nearer +and nearer I gazed with a kind of fascination at the big unconscious +brute. He carried his head low, and dropped his feet with a heavy +splash into the shallow water. + +At twenty yards he stopped as if struck, with head up and one paw +lifted, sniffing suspiciously. Even then he did not see me, though +only the open shore lay between us. He did not use his eyes at all, +but laid his great head back on his shoulders and sniffed in every +direction, rocking his brown muzzle up and down the while, so as to +take in every atom from the tainted air. + +A few slow careful steps forward, and he stopped again, looked +straight into my eyes, then beyond me towards the lake, all the while +sniffing. I was still only part of the shore. Yet he was so near that +I caught the gleam of his eyes, and saw the nostrils swell and the +muzzle twitch nervously. + +Another step or two, and he planted his fore feet firmly. The long +hairs began to rise along his spine, and under his wrinkled chops was +a flash of white teeth. Still he had no suspicion of the motionless +object there in the grass. He looked rather out on the lake. Then he +glided into the brush and was lost to sight and hearing. + +He was so close that I scarcely dared breathe as I waited, expecting +him to come out farther down the shore. Five minutes passed without +the slightest sound to indicate his whereabouts, though I was +listening intently in the dead hush that was on the lake. All the +while I smelled him strongly. One can smell a bear almost as far as he +can a deer, though the scent does not cling so long to the underbrush. + +A bush swayed slightly below where he had disappeared. I was watching +it closely when some sudden warning--I know not what, for I did not +hear but only felt it--made me turn my head quickly. There, not six +feet away, a huge head and shoulders were thrust out of the bushes on +the bank, and a pair of gleaming eyes were peering intently down upon +me in the grass. He had been watching me at arm's length probably two +or three minutes. Had a muscle moved in all that time, I have no doubt +that he would have sprung upon me. As it was, who can say what was +passing behind that curious, half-puzzled, half-savage gleam in his +eyes? + +[Illustration] + +He drew quickly back as a sudden movement on my part threw the rifle +into position. A few minutes later I heard the snap of a rotten twig +some distance away. Not another sound told of his presence till he +broke out onto the shore, fifty yards above, and went steadily on his +way up the lake. + + * * * * * + +Mooween is something of a humorist in his own way. When not hungry he +will go out of his way to frighten a bullfrog away from his sun-bath +on the shore, for no other purpose, evidently, than just to see him +jump. Watching him thus amusing himself one afternoon, I was immensely +entertained by seeing him turn his head to one side, and wrinkle his +eyebrows, as each successive frog said _ke'dunk_, and went splashing +away over the lily pads. + +A pair of cubs are playful as young foxes, while their extreme +awkwardness makes them a dozen times more comical. Simmo, my Indian +guide, tells me that the cubs will sometimes run away and hide when +they hear the mother bear returning. No amount of coaxing or of +anxious fear on her part will bring them back, till she searches +diligently to find them. + +Once only have I had opportunity to see the young at play. There were +two of them, nearly full-grown, with the mother. The most curious +thing was to see them stand up on their hind legs and cuff each other +soundly, striking and warding like trained boxers. Then they would +lock arms and wrestle desperately till one was thrown, when the other +promptly seized him by throat or paw, and pretended to growl +frightfully. + +They were well fed, evidently, and full of good spirits as two boys. +But the mother was cross and out of sorts. She kept moving about +uneasily, as if the rough play irritated her nerves. Occasionally, as +she sat for a moment with hind legs stretched out flat and fore paws +planted between them, one of the cubs would approach and attempt some +monkey play. A sound cuff on the ear invariably sent him whimpering +back to his companion, who looked droll enough the while, sitting with +his tongue out and his head wagging humorously as he watched the +experiment. It was getting toward the time of year when she would mate +again, and send them off into the world to shift for themselves. And +this was perhaps their first hard discipline. + +Once also I caught an old bear enjoying himself in a curious way. It +was one intensely hot day, in the heart of a New Brunswick wilderness. +Mooween came out onto the lake shore and lumbered along, twisting +uneasily and rolling his head as if very much distressed by the heat. +I followed silently close behind in my canoe. + +Soon he came to a cool spot under the alders, which was probably what +he was looking for. A small brook made an eddy there, and a lot of +driftweed had collected over a bed of soft black mud. The stump of a +huge cedar leaned out over it, some four or five feet above the water. + +First he waded in to try the temperature. Then he came out and climbed +the cedar stump, where he sniffed in every direction, as is his wont +before lying down. Satisfied at last, he balanced himself carefully +and gave a big jump--Oh, so awkwardly!--with legs out flat, and paws +up, and mouth open as if he were laughing at himself. Down he came, +_souse_, with a tremendous splash that sent mud and water flying in +every direction. And with a deep _uff-guff_ of pure delight, he +settled himself in his cool bed for a comfortable nap. + +In his fondness for fish, Mooween has discovered an interesting way +of catching them. In June and July immense numbers of trout and salmon +run up the wilderness rivers on their way to the spawning grounds. +Here and there, on small streams, are shallow riffles, where large +fish are often half out of water as they struggle up. On one of these +riffles Mooween stations himself during the first bright moonlight +nights of June, when the run of fish is largest on account of the +higher tides at the river mouth. And Mooween knows, as well as any +other fisherman, the kind of night on which to go fishing. He knows +also the virtue of keeping still. As a big salmon struggles by, +Mooween slips a paw under him, tosses him to the shore by a dexterous +flip, and springs after him before he can flounder back. + +When hungry, Mooween has as many devices as a fox for getting a meal. +He tries flipping frogs from among the lily pads in the same way that +he catches salmon. That failing, he takes to creeping through the +water-grass, like a mink, and striking his game dead with a blow of +his paw. + +Or he finds a porcupine loafing through the woods, and follows him +about to throw dirt and stones at him, carefully refraining from +touching him the while, till the porcupine rolls himself into a ball +of bristling quills,--his usual method of defense. Mooween slips a paw +under him, flips him against a tree to stun him, and bites him in the +belly, where there are no quills. If he spies the porcupine in a tree, +he will climb up, if he is a young bear, and try to shake him off. But +he soon learns better, and saves his strength for more fruitful +exertions. + +Mooween goes to the lumber camps regularly after his winter sleep and, +breaking in through door or roof, helps himself to what he finds. If +there happens to be a barrel of pork there, he will roll it into the +open air, if the door is wide enough, before breaking in the head with +a blow of his paw. + +Should he find a barrel of molasses among the stores, his joy is +unbounded. The head is broken in on the instant and Mooween eats till +he is surfeited. Then he lies down and rolls in the sticky sweet, to +prolong the pleasure; and stays in the neighborhood till every drop +has been lapped up. + +Lumbermen have long since learned of his strength and cunning in +breaking into their strong camps. When valuable stores are left in the +woods, they are put into special camps, called bear camps, where doors +and roofs are fastened with chains and ingenious log locks to keep +Mooween out. + +Near the settlements Mooween speedily locates the sweet apple trees +among the orchards. These he climbs by night, and shakes off enough +apples to last him for several visits. Every kind of domestic animal +is game for him. He will lie at the edge of a clearing for hours, with +the patience of a cat, waiting for turkey or sheep or pig to come +within range of his swift rush. + +His fondness for honey is well known. When he has discovered a rotten +tree in which wild bees have hidden their store, he will claw at the +bottom till it falls. Curling one paw under the log he sinks the claws +deep into the wood. The other paw grips the log opposite the first, +and a single wrench lays it open. The clouds of angry insects about +his head meanwhile are as little regarded as so many flies. He knows +the thickness of his skin, and they know it. When the honey is at last +exposed, and begins to disappear in great hungry mouthfuls, the bees +also fall upon it, to gorge themselves with the fruit of their hard +labor before Mooween shall have eaten it all. + +Everything eatable in the woods ministers at times to Mooween's need. +Nuts and berries are favorite dishes in their season. When these and +other delicacies fail, he knows where to dig for edible roots. A big +caribou, wandering near his hiding place, is pulled down and stunned +by a blow on the head. Then, when the meat has lost its freshness, he +will hunt for an hour after a wood-mouse he has seen run under a +stone, or pull a rotten log to pieces for the ants and larvæ concealed +within. + +These last are favorite dishes with him. In a burned district, where +ants and berries abound, one is continually finding charred logs, in +which the ants nest by thousands, split open from end to end. A few +strong claw marks, and the lick of a moist tongue here and there, +explain the matter. It shows the extremes of Mooween's taste. Next to +honey he prefers red ants, which are sour as pickles. + +Mooween is even more expert as a boxer than as a fisherman. When the +skin is stripped from his fore arms, they are seen to be of great +size, with muscles as firm to the touch as so much rubber. Long +practice has made him immensely strong, and quick as a flash to ward +and strike. Woe be to the luckless dog, however large, that ventures +in the excitement of the hunt within reach of his paw. A single swift +stroke will generally put the poor brute out of the hunt forever. + +Once Simmo caught a bear by the hind leg in a steel trap. It was a +young bear, a two-year-old; and Simmo thought to save his precious +powder by killing it with a club. He cut a heavy maple stick and, +swinging it high above his head, advanced to the trap. Mooween rose to +his hind legs, and looked him steadily in the eye, like the trained +boxer that he is. Down came the club with a sweep to have felled an +ox. There was a flash from Mooween's paw; the club spun away into the +woods; and Simmo just escaped a fearful return blow by dropping to +the ground and rolling out of reach, leaving his cap in Mooween's +claws. A wink later, and his scalp would have hung there instead. + +In the mating season, when three or four bears often roam the woods +together in fighting humor, Mooween uses a curious kind of challenge. +Rising on his hind legs against a big fir or spruce, he tears the bark +with his claws as high as he can reach on either side. Then placing +his back against the trunk, he turns his head and bites into the tree +with his long canine teeth, tearing out a mouthful of the wood. That +is to let all rivals know just how big a bear he is. + +The next bear that comes along, seeking perhaps to win the mate of his +rival and following her trail, sees the challenge and measures his +height and reach in the same way, against the same tree. If he can +bite as high, or higher, he keeps on, and a terrible fight is sure to +follow. But if, with his best endeavors, his marks fall short of the +deep scars above, he prudently withdraws, and leaves it to a bigger +bear to risk an encounter. + +In the wilderness one occasionally finds a tree on which three or four +bears have thus left their challenge. Sometimes all the bears in a +neighborhood seem to have left their records in the same place. I +remember well one such tree, a big fir, by a lonely little beaver +pond, where the separate challenges had become indistinguishable on +the torn bark. The freshest marks here were those of a long-limbed old +ranger--a monster he must have been--with a clear reach of a foot +above his nearest rival. Evidently no other bear had cared to try +after such a record. + +Once, in the mating season, I discovered quite by accident that +Mooween can be called, like a hawk or a moose, or indeed any other +wild creature, if one but knows how. It was in New Brunswick, where I +was camped on a wild forest river. At midnight I was back at a little +opening in the woods, watching some hares at play in the bright +moonlight. When they had run away, I called a wood-mouse out from his +den under a stump; and then a big brown owl from across the +river--which almost scared the life out of my poor little wood-mouse. +Suddenly a strange cry sounded far back on the mountain. I listened +curiously, then imitated the cry, in the hope of hearing it again and +of remembering it; for I had never before heard anything like the +sound, and had no idea what creature produced it. There was no +response, however, and I speedily grew interested in the owls; for by +this time two or three more were hooting about me, all called in by +the first comer. When they had gone I tried the strange call again. +Instantly it was answered close at hand. The creature was coming. + +I stole out into the middle of the opening, and sat very still on a +fallen log. Ten minutes passed in intense silence. Then a twig snapped +behind me. I turned--and there was Mooween, just coming into the +opening. I shall not soon forget how he looked, standing there big and +black in the moonlight; nor the growl deep down in his throat, that +grew deeper as he watched me. We looked straight into each other's +eyes a brief, uncertain moment. Then he drew back silently into the +dense shadow. + +There is another side to Mooween's character, fortunately a rare one, +which is sometimes evident in the mating season, when his temper leads +him to attack instead of running away, as usual; or when wounded, or +cornered, or roused to frenzy in defense of the young. Mooween is then +a beast to be dreaded, a great savage brute, possessed of enormous +strength and of a fiend's cunning. I have followed him wounded through +the wilderness, when his every resting place was scarred with deep +gashes, and where broken saplings testified mutely to the force of his +blow. Yet even here his natural timidity lies close to the surface, +and his ferocity has been greatly exaggerated by hunters. + +Altogether, Mooween the Bear is a peaceable fellow, and an interesting +one, well worth studying. His extreme wariness, however, enables him +generally to escape observation; and there are undoubtedly many queer +ways of his yet to be discovered by some one who, instead of trying to +scare the life out of him by a shout or a rifle-shot in the rare +moments when he shows himself, will have the patience to creep near, +and find out just what he is doing. Only in the deepest wilderness is +he natural and unconscious. There he roams about, entirely alone for +the most part, supplying his numerous wants, and performing droll +capers with all the gravity of an owl, when he thinks that not even +Tookhees, the wood-mouse, is looking. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ways of Wood Folk, by William J. 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