Part 1

BIRDS

AND

ALL NATURE

A MONTHLY SERIAL

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

VOLUME IV.

CHICAGO AND NEW YORK. NATURE STUDY PUBLISHING COMPANY.

COPYRIGHT, 1898

BY

NATURE STUDY PUBLISHING CO.

CHICAGO.

INTRODUCTION.

As heretofore announced, beginning with the present, each number of BIRDS AND ALL NATURE will present at least two birds, three or four animals, and the remaining plates will depict such natural subjects as insects, butterflies, flowers, geological specimens, etc. In fact, everything in nature which can be brought before the camera will in its due course be portrayed.

BIRDS is without doubt one of the most popular magazines ever presented to the American public. It is read and admired by over one hundred thousand persons.

BIRDS AND ALL NATURE promises to be even more popular, if possible, than BIRDS. We are constantly receiving congratulations on the success of our enterprise, and people are delighted to learn that we shall include in succeeding numbers all interesting branches of natural history. When the bound volume appears it will prove to be worthy of its predecessors.

Nature Study Publishing Company.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION. 3

SQUIRREL TOWN. 4

WILSON'S SNIPE. 7

THE BLACK WOLF. 8

AN ARMADILLO AS A PET. 12

AFRICAN FOLK LORE. 12

THE RED SQUIRREL. 15

SECRETS OF AN OLD GARDEN. 16

BIRDS FORTELL MARRIAGE. 16

THE PRAIRIE HEN. 19

ABOUT THE SONGSTERS. 21

THE BUTTERFLY TRADE. 22

THE PASSENGER PIGEON IN WISCONSIN AND NEBRASKA. 25

THE AMERICAN RABBIT. 26

THIRTY MILES FOR AN ACORN. 29

THE OCELOT. 30

AZAMET THE HERMIT AND HIS DUMB FRIENDS. 33

THE USE OF FLOWERS. 34

ALL NATURE. 37

THE BLOODLESS SPORTSMEN. 39

A BOOK BY THE BROOK. 39

SUMMARY. 40

SQUIRREL TOWN.

Where the oak trees tall and stately Stretch great branches to the sky Where the green leaves toss and flutter As the summer days go by, Dwell a crowd of little people, Ever racing up and down, Bright eyes glancing, gray tails whisking; This is known as Squirrel Town.

Bless me, what a rush and bustle, As the happy hours speed by! Chatter, chatter--chatter, chitter, Underneath the azure sky. Laughs the brook to hear the clamor; Chirps the Sparrow, gay and brown "Welcome! Welcome, everybody! Jolly place, this Squirrel Town."

Honey-bees the fields are roaming; Daisies nod and lilies blow; Soon Jack Frost--the saucy fellow-- Hurrying, will come, I know. Crimson leaves will light the woodland; And the nuts come pattering down. Winter store they all must gather-- Busy place, then, Squirrel Town.

Blowing, blustering, sweeps the north wind-- See! the snow is flying fast. Hushed the brook and hushed the Sparrow, For the summer time is past. Yet these merry little fellows Do not fear old Winter's frown; Snug in hollow trees they're hiding. Quiet place is Squirrel Town.

--ALIX THORN.

BIRDS AND ALL NATURE.

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

VOL. IV. JULY, 1898. NO. 1.

WILSON'S SNIPE.

Wilson's Snipe, otherwise known as the English Snipe, Jacksnipe, and Guttersnipe, and which is one of our best known game birds, has a very extended range; indeed, covering the whole of North America, and migrating south in the winter to the West Indies and northern South America. Its long, compressed, flattened, and slightly expanded bill gives it an odd appearance, and renders it easily recognizable. From March till September the peculiar and cheerful "_cheep_" of the Snipe may be heard in the larger city parks where there are small lakes and open moist grounds, and where it can feed and probe with its long, soft, sensitive, pointed bill in the thin mud and soft earth for worms, larvae, and the tender roots of plants. In some localities in the Southern states, during the winter months, thousands of Snipe are killed on the marshes where they collect on some especially good feeding ground. We have rarely seen more than two together, as they are not social, moving about either alone or in pairs. Its movements on the ground are graceful and easy, and, while feeding, the tail is carried partly erect, the head downward, the bill barely clearing the ground. We recently watched one through an opera glass, but the frequency of its changes from point to point and the rapidity of its flight discouraged long observation. The flight is swift, and, at the start, in a zigzag manner. Sportsmen say it is a most difficult bird to shoot, requiring a quick eye and a snap shot to bag four out of five. Col. Goss said that he always had the best success when the birds were suddenly flushed, in shooting the instant its startled "_scaipe_" reached his ear, "as it is invariably heard the moment the bird is fairly in the air."

It is entertaining to watch the courtship of these birds, "as the male struts with drooping wings and wide spread tail around his mate in the most captivating manner, often at such times rising spiral-like with quickly beating wings high in the air, dropping back in a wavy, graceful circle, uttering at the same time his jarring, cackling love note, which, with the vibration of the wings upon the air, makes a rather pleasing sound."

The snipe's nest is usually placed on or under a tuft of grass, and is a mere depression, scantily lined with bits of old grass and leaves. The eggs are three or four, greyish olive, with more or less of a brownish shade, spotted and blotched chiefly about the larger end with varying shades of umber brown.

If you want to identify Wilson's Snipe, have with you a copy of this number of BIRDS AND ALL NATURE as you stroll along shore or beach. Our picture is his very image.

THE BLACK WOLF.

Some of my little readers have probably heard about the small boy who thought it rare fun to frighten his friends by crying "Wolf! Wolf!" as though he were being pursued. They lived in a wild part of the country where Wolves were frequently seen, but in time they grew used to Johnnie's little joke, so that one day when he cried "Wolf! Wolf!" in frantic tones they paid no attention to him. Alas! that day a Wolf really did sneak out of the woods--a hungry Wolf--and poor little Johnnie furnished him a very satisfactory meal. There is a deep meaning attached to this fable, which you had best ask your teacher to explain.

Well, the Black Wolf, whose picture we present is a fierce looking fellow indeed. We have heard so many stories about Wolves attacking travelers and their horses that we have thought them full of ferocity and courage, when in fact they are the most cowardly of all our animals. Unless pressed by extreme hunger they never attack animals larger than themselves, and then only in packs. A cur dog, as a rule, can drive the largest wolf on the plains. Lean, gaunt, and hungry looking, they are the essence of meanness and treachery. Their long, bushy tails are carried straight out behind, but when the animal is frightened, he puts his tail between his legs just like the common dog.

There are men who make it a business to go Wolf hunting in order to secure their "pelts," or hides. The bait they use is the carcass of some animal, elk, deer, or coon, which they impregnate with poison, and leave in a place which will do the most good. In the morning sometimes as many as fifty dead Wolves will be found scattered about the carcass whose flesh they had so ravenously devoured. A Wolf skin is worth about one dollar and a half, so that it pays a hunter very well to "catch" a number of these mean animals.

They are sometimes hunted on horseback with hounds, but they can run with such speed when frightened, that no ordinary dog can keep up with them. Among the pack are one or more greyhounds, who bring the wolf to bay and allow the other dogs to come up.

THE BLACK WOLF.

At one time the Black Wolf of America was considered by naturalists to be only a variety of the common Wolf, but it is now believed to be a distinct species, not only by reason of the color of its fur but from differences of stature, the position of the eye, the peculiar bushiness of the hair and other evidence entitling it to rank as a separate species. This variety is referred to as an inhabitant of Florida, and is described as partaking of the general lupine character, being fierce, dangerous, and at the same time cowardly and pusillanimous, when they find themselves fairly enclosed. If imprisoned in even a large space, they crouch timidly in the corners, and do not venture to attack man when he enters the cage. Audubon mentions a curious instance of this strange timidity in a ferocious nature, of which he was an eye-witness: "A farmer had suffered greatly from Wolves, and determined to take revenge by means of pitfalls, of which he had dug several within easy reach of his residence. They were eight feet in depth and wider at the bottom than at the top. Into one of these traps three fine Wolves had fallen, two of them black, and the other a brindled animal. To the very great astonishment of Mr. Audubon, the farmer got into the pit, pulled out the hind legs of the Wolves, as they lay trembling at the bottom, and with his knife severed the chief tendon of the hind limbs, so as to prevent their escape. The skins of the captured animals were sufficiently valuable to reimburse the farmer for his labor and his previous losses."

The Esquimaux use traps made of large blocks of ice, constructed in the same manner as our ordinary mouse-trap with a drop-door. The trap is made so narrow that the Wolf cannot turn himself, and when he is closed in by the treacherous door, he is put to death by spears.

Wood says that when Wolves and Dogs are domesticated in the same residence a mutual attachment will often spring up between them, although they naturally bear the bitterest hatred to each other. A mixed offspring is sometimes the result of this curious friendship, and it is said that these half-breed animals are more powerful and courageous than the ordinary Dog. Mr. Palliser possessed a fine animal of this kind, the father of which was a White Wolf and the mother an ordinary Indian Dog. It is a well-known fact that the Esquimaux are constantly in the habit of crossing their sledge Dogs with Wolves in order to impart strength and stamina to the breed. Indeed they are so closely related to Wolves that there can be no question that they are descended from them.

The Wolf produces from three to nine young in a litter. In January the mother Wolf begins to prepare her habitation, a task in which she is protected or assisted by her mate, who has won her in a fair fight from his many rivals. He attaches himself solely to one mate, and never leaves her till the young Wolves are able to shift for themselves. The den in which the young cubs are born is warmly lined with fur which she pulls from her own body. The cubs are born in March and remain under her protection seven or eight months. They begin to eat animal food in four weeks after birth.

The Wolf's whelp will at last a Wolf become Though from his birth he find with man a home.

_Arabian Proverb._

AN ARMADILLO AS A PET.

Nurse McCully of the Royal infirmary, Liverpool, has an Armadillo as a pet. This little animal, which is a native of South America, was given to the nurse by a sailor when it was quite a baby, weighing only three pounds. It was most advantageously reared on peptonized milk,--ordinary cow's milk being too strong,--and the little creature now weighs 11 pounds. Its present diet is peculiar, consisting of bread and milk, bacon, apples, and sardines. Also, it supports its adopted country by eating English tomatoes, but rejecting American ones. It sleeps all day, rising at 6 p. m. and running all over the ward. Its chief amusement seems to be tearing to pieces the patients' slippers. It knows its mistress, and will readily come to her. The little Armadillo sleeps in a warm barrel, furnished with bran and flannel. It has now been at the Royal infirmary for about four years.--_Strand Magazine._

AFRICAN FOLK LORE.

African Literature is very rich in fables of animals, which may be divided into the two categories of moral apologues and simple narrations. In the former such an identity is noticeable with stories of the peoples of Asia and Europe as almost to cause us to think that both proceed from a common source whence they were drawn in prehistoric times. To this may, however, be opposed the hypothesis of an original and simultaneous origin in different places; a question for the discussion of which we have not yet all the elements. One of the most brilliant of the African apologues comes from Somaliland, and is perhaps better than the corresponding European fable: "The Lion, the Hyena, and the Fox went hunting, and caught a Sheep. The Lion said, 'Let us divide the prey.' The Hyena said, 'I will take the hinder parts, the Lion the fore parts, and the Fox can have the feet and entrails.' Then the Lion struck the Hyena on the head so hard that one of its eyes fell out, then turned to the Fox and said, 'Now you divide it.' 'The head, the intestines, and the feet are for the Hyena and me; all the rest belongs to the Lion.' 'Who taught you to judge in that way?' asked the Lion. The Fox answered, 'The Hyena's eye.'"--_Popular Science Monthly._

THE RED SQUIRREL.

Chickaree is the common name of the Red Squirrel, so called from the cry which it utters. It is one of the most interesting of the family, and a pleasing feature of rural life. During the last weeks of autumn the Squirrel seems to be quite in its element, paying frequent visits to the nut trees and examining their fruit with a critical eye, in anticipation of laying up a goodly store of food for the long and dreary months of winter; as they do not, as was formerly asserted, hibernate, but live upon the stores they secure. A scarcity may mean much suffering to them, while an abundance will mean plenty and comfort. In filling their little granaries, they detect every worm-eaten or defective nut, and select only the soundest fruit, conveying it, one by one, to its secret home. Feeding abundantly on the rich products of a fruitful season, the Squirrel becomes very fat before the commencement of winter, and is then in its greatest beauty, the new fur having settled upon the body, and the new hair having covered the tail with its plumy fringe.

Did you ever watch a squirrel open and eat the contents of a nut? It is very curious and interesting. The little fellow takes it daintily in his fore-paws, seats himself deliberately, and then carrying the nut to his mouth, clips off the tips with his sharp chisel-edged incisor teeth. He then rapidly breaks away the shell, and after peeling the husk from the kernel, eats it complacently, all the while furtively glancing about him, ever in readiness to vanish from his post at any suspicious disturbance. The food of the Squirrel is not vegetable substances. Young birds, eggs, and various insects constitute a part of his food. He has the destructive habit of nibbling green and tender shoots that sprout upon the topmost boughs, thus stunting the growth of many a promising tree. He visits the farmers' corn-cribs, too, and thus renders himself somewhat obnoxious. All in all, however, he has his uses, and should not be wholly exterminated. Tender and juicy, he has always paid for his apparent despoliation, and his destruction of much injurious insect life rather favors his protection.

The Squirrel is a variable animal in point of color, the tint of its fur changing with the country it inhabits. It is easily tamed, and is a favorite domestic pet. It is said, however, that one should beware of purchasing so-called tame Squirrels, as they are often drugged with strychnine, under whose influence they will permit themselves to be handled. In some cases the incisor teeth are drawn, to prevent them from biting. It is sad that such cruel tricks of the vendors exist and cannot be prevented.

It is related that about 1840, during a season of great scarcity of mast, vast multitudes of Squirrels migrated from the eastern states to Canada, where food conditions were more favorable. They crossed the country in armies, swam rivers with their tails curled over their backs, sailing before the wind. It was a curious instance of rare instinct and self-preservation.

SECRETS OF AN OLD GARDEN.

This garden had some small fruit trees thickly covered with leaves, and a tangle of currant bushes and raspberry vines, as well as neatly worked rows of vegetables. There was also a thick clump of tall, feathery grass beside the paling.

It was well it had these small places of refuge, for it had many perils. Two cats, a white and a gray, patrolled the garden with silent and velvety tread; boys, who were not silent, used all kinds of small but deadly weapons on the street that ran beside it, and great heavy wagons rumbled up and down all day, making a great noise and dust.

But how many birds I have seen and heard there! Red-headed Woodpeckers tapped and called early in the morning on the tall telegraph pole at the corner, and flocks of Grackles, the Bronze, the Purple, and the Rusty Grackles, were fed from the fresh-turned earth. A Catbird hopped lightly in the shadow of the tool-house, and I suspect some Robins of foraging turn with their young families. Sparrows of all kinds dwelt there--flocks of yellow Ground Sparrows, Brown and Gray Sparrows, Clipping Sparrows. I saw one day the funniest Clipping baby with his chestnut cap pushed up into a regular crown almost too big for his tiny head, and the brightest black eyes peering at me, as he stood on a clod of earth. Flocks, also, of Goldfinches, glittering like small balls of gold, and Indigo Buntings, blue as the sky, held merry-makings there, and oh, the songs from morning until night! A Warbling Vireo sang so loud and so splendidly that we thought he must be some big bird of scarlet plumage instead of the wee wood-sprite he was; and little Wrens and little Indigo Birds fairly bubbled over with songs of joy.

The nests, the hidden nests, were the old garden's secrets, and the garden kept them well. There was a flutter of wings, the bird floated down, and was straightway invisible. Not the tip of a tail or beak was to be seen. Or up flew the bird and was as quickly lost in the thick screen of interwoven leaves overhead. There were certain gray birds so much the color of the dead wood on which they perched that they might have nested in full, open view, and yet have remained unseen until they moved. How the little birds did love this garden--the noisy street on one side, the close, dingy houses on the other, and how near its heart did the old garden keep the birds.

So many and such different birds--yet "not one of them is forgotten before God."--ELLA F. MOSBY.

BIRDS FORTELL MARRIAGE.

Some of the Prussian girls have an odd way of finding out which of a number will be married first. The girls take some corn and make a small heap of it on the floor, and in it conceal one of their finger rings. A chicken is then introduced and let loose beside the little heaps of corn. Presently the bird begins to eat the grain, and whichever ring is first exposed the owner of it will be the first to marry.

THE PRAIRIE HEN.

Nuttall says that, choosing particular districts for residence, this species of Grouse is far less common than its Ruffed relative. It is often called Prairie Chicken and Pinnated Grouse. Confined to dry, barren, and bushy tracts of small extent, these birds are in many places now wholly or nearly exterminated. They are still met with on the Grouse plains of New Jersey, on Long Island, in parts of Connecticut, and in the Island of Martha's Vineyard. Mr. Nuttall was informed that they were so common on the ancient bushy site of the city of Boston that laboring people or servants stipulated with their employers not to have the Heath Hen brought to table oftener than a few times in the week. They are still common in the western states, but thirty years ago we saw vast numbers of them on the plains of Kansas. As there were no railroads then, they could not be sent to market, and were only occasionally eaten by the inhabitants. The immense wheat fields which have been sown for a number of years past have largely increased this species, where they assemble in flocks, and are the gleaners of the harvest.

Early in the morning Grouse may be seen flying everywhere, from one alone to perhaps a thousand together. They alight in the cornfields. "Look! Yonder comes a dozen; they will fly right over you; no, they swerve fifty yards to one side and pass you like bullets; single out your bird, hold four feet in front of him, and when he is barely opposite cut loose. Following the crack of the gun you hear a sharp whack as the shot strike, and you have tumbled an old cock into the grass. You have of course marked down as many of the birds as possible; let them feed an hour and then drive them up. They will rise very wild, and the only object in flushing them is to see them down where they will take their noon-day siesta."