Birds and All Nature, Vol. 6, No. 2, September 1899 Illustrated by Color Photography
Part 3
We made a side trip to the big trees of the Mariposa group, which are about one hour's ride from the hotel, says a correspondent of the Pittsburg _Dispatch_. If the smallest of these trees could be planted anywhere in Pennsylvania the railroads would run excursion trains to it and make money. The trees in this grove are so large that it takes a good while to fully appreciate the facts about the size of the biggest of them. The "Grizzly Giant" is thirty-four feet through at the base and over 400 feet high. This tree would overtop the spires on the Pittsburg cathedral by over 100 feet. The trunk of this tree is 100 feet clear to the first limb, which is twenty feet in circumference. Many other trees here are very nearly as large as this one, and there are 400 in the grove. Through several tunnels have been cut and a four-horse stage can go through these tunnels on the run and never graze a hub. You get an approach to an adequate idea of their size by walking off 100 yards or so while the stage is standing at the foot of a tree and glancing from top to bottom, keeping the stage in mind as a means of comparison. The stage and the horses look like the little tin outfit that Santa Claus brought you when you were a good little boy.
These trees are no longer to be called the largest in the world, however. A species of eucalyptus has been found in Australia as large or larger. Emerson warns us against the use of the superlative, but when you are in this region of the globe you can't get along without a liberal use of it. He himself says of Yosemite: "It is the only spot I have ever found that came up to the brag." And as I stood in the big tree grove I remembered that some one called Emerson himself "the Sequoia of the human race."
THE EDGE OF THE WOOD.
ELLA F. MOSBY.
The ideal place for birds, says Mr. Frank Chapman, is the edge of the wood where field and forest meet, and a stream is not far off. If an orchard be in sight, so much the better. It was my delight to spend a summer, or part of it, in just such a spot not long ago, and I made many charming discoveries here. In the first place I learned that it is by no means necessary for birds to "be of a feather" in order "to flock together." I came one bright morning on a flock of indigo buntings near the water's edge, the proud father, in exquisite blue, like finest silk, with shimmering lights of green playing over it, the mother in siena brown, and the babies, neither blue nor brown, but a sooty black, with only a solitary wee feather now and then to show the blue that was coming. What an odd, but what a pretty, happy little family!
The banks of the stream were thickly overgrown with milk-white elder, orange butterfly-weed, and a thousand feathery grasses and nodding leaf-sprays, already touched on edge with crimson or gold "thumb-marks." On the tall stalks swung the goldfinches, "a little yellow streak of laughter in the sun," and every stake or post in the fence near by made a "coigne of vantage" for the merry wrens to call and whistle. The calls of birds express, bird-fashion, every feeling that the heart of man knows--surprise, fear, joy, hope, love, hate, and sorrow. If we could only contrive to think _bird-thoughts_, as perhaps an Audubon may have done, or a Wilson, we might understand these strange signals and cries, often uttered by invisible speakers from a world above ours.
I learned at this time that the quails, or Bob-Whites, have many calls instead of the _one_ from which they are named. There is the low, sweet mother-talk to the brood, the notes of warning, the "scatter calls" of autumn from the survivors of an attack, "_Where are you? Where are you?_" and a sort of duet between male and female at nesting time. When she leaves the nest, she calls "_Lou-is-e!_" and he strikes in on the last syllable with "_Bob_;" she repeats, and he bursts forth "_Bob White_!" with emphasis. Then the clear, ringing whistles through midsummer sound up and down the meadow from one quail to another. The old farmer interprets their colloquy thus:--
"Bob White, Bob White, Pease ripe, pease ripe?" "Not quite, not quite."
These birds are very tame during the spring and fall, and will come into town, on the edges of the streets, and call from roof and door-step without fear, sometimes even mounting into a tree close beside a window and whistling for an hour or two.
On the contrary, it is by the edge of the wood and after the brood is reared, that tree-top birds, like tanagers and cardinals, grow most friendly and fearless. Frequently, when I raised my glasses to look at some plain brown or gray bird, the scarlet of a tanager would flash across the field, and the rose glow of the cardinals appear in the grass. The female cardinal, with her lovely fawn tints and rose linings, and her beautiful voice, equals the male in interest. She is a bird of lively emotions, and being rebuffed by a catbird one day, made the lawn ring with her aggrieved cries, while her mate sought to comfort her most tenderly. They are not graceful on the ground, but they have a stout air of proprietorship that is not unpleasing. Both of our tanagers, the summer and scarlet, the cardinals, and the brilliant orioles, live together very peaceably, nor have I seen any sign of envy, malice, or spite among them. I suppose each one of us has his own Arcadia; mine--and that of these winged neighbors--assuredly lies at the boundary-line between shadowy forest and sunny meadow--at the edge of the wood!
ORES.
Nickel is a silver-white, ductile metal, discovered by Cronstedt in 1751. It is closely allied to iron and cobalt, and is associated with many ores. Nickel, according to Deville, is more tenacious than iron. It is magnetic at ordinary temperatures. Many of the copper coins of the European continent and the United States are alloys containing various proportions of nickel. Nickel-plating has become an industry of great importance in the United States. It is used for magnetic needles, for philosophical and surgical instruments, and in watch movements.
SPATHIC IRON ORE.--Carbonate of iron, when found in a comparatively pure and crystallized state, is known as spathic or sparry. In its purest form it contains 48 per cent. of iron. The ore is found near Hudson, N. Y., and in Tuscarawas county, Ohio.
COPPER.--Copper is one of the most anciently known metals, and its name is derived from the island of Cyprus, where it was first obtained by the Greeks. In the earlier times it does not appear to have been employed by itself, but always in admixture with other metals, principally tin, forming bronze. Great masses of native copper have been found both in North and South America.
TIN.--Tin is a beautiful silver-white metal, with a tinge of yellow. There was no tin produced in the United States in 1896. The tin-producing countries are Malacca, Banca, Bolivia, Australia, and Cornwall.
ZINC.--A metal of a brilliant white color, with a shade of blue, and appearing as if composed of plates adhering together. It is not brittle, but less malleable than copper, lead, or tin; when heated, however, it is malleable, and may be rolled into plates.
LEAD.--A metal of a dull white color, with a cast of blue. It is soft and easily fusible. It is found native in small masses, but generally mineralized by sulphur and sometimes by other substances. It is the least elastic and sonorous of all the metals.
YOUNG WILD BIRDS.
The thickness of the foliage on the trees, the high vegetation of the cultivated land, and the natural tendency of young birds to keep quiet and still, make the study of them a matter of some difficulty. In the hedgerows and by the wood-sides unfamiliar notes and calls of birds are constantly heard--the notes of young birds, which cannot be identified owing to the thickness of the foliage, and though in the large woods the cry of the young sparrow hawks and the flight of the pigeons and woodpeckers betray their presence, it is almost impossible to watch them, or to ascertain their way of procuring food. Probably most of the larger species are fed by the old birds long after they leave the nest.
Of game birds, young partridges are the most self-reliant, and young pheasants the least able to take care of themselves. The present writer has never seen young quails, but as those coveys which are hatched in England often number as many birds as the quail usually lay eggs, it may be presumed that these, the smallest of all the game birds, are not less active and precocious than the young of the partridge. The latter are almost as active upon land as young wild ducks are upon the water. They run swiftly and without hesitation, even among thick vegetation, when they are no bigger than a wren, and follow or precede their mother through mowing grass, hedgerows, or the sides of furze breaks and copses, seeking and catching insects all the while, and neither losing themselves nor betraying their whereabouts by unnecessary noise or excursions.
MANDIOCA.
ANNA R. HENDERSON.
Mandioca (_Jatropha Manihot L_.) is the principal farinaceous production of Brazil, and is largely raised in nearly all parts of South America; in fact, is the main bread food of that continent, and is therefore worthy of consideration.
It is difficult for dwellers in northern climes to conceive of a land which does not look largely to fields of wheat or corn for sustentation; yet millions inhabit such a region, and strange to say, derive their bread from a root which combines nutritious and poisonous qualities.
Mandioca is indigenous to Brazil, and the Indians, strange to say, discovered methods of separating its nutritive and detrimental qualities. The Portuguese, learning its use from them, invented mills for its preparation, and it became the bread food of a great tropical region where wheat and Indian corn do not thrive.
The plant has a fibrous stalk, three or four feet high, with a few branches and but little foliage; light-green five-fingered leaves. The roots are brown tubers, often several inches thick, and more than a foot in length.
It is planted from slices of the tubers and is of slow growth, taking eighteen months to mature. The poisonous quality is confined to the juice of the roots, and even this may be rendered innocent by boiling. It then becomes vinegar by fermentation. The leaves may be eaten by cattle. The roots must be ground soon after digging, as they become putrid in a few days.
The Indians scraped the roots to a pulp with oyster shells, and after pressing it, dried it before the fire, or cut it under water into thin slices which they dried.
I will now describe the Portuguese method of making farina from mandioca, as I witnessed it in my Brazilian home, a _fazenda_, plantation, near Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The mandioca, which loves a dry soil, was grown on the hillsides among the orange and the coffee trees. It was cultivated by the hoe. When its great masses of tubers were mature they were dug and hauled to the farina house, a cool room, tile-roofed, dirt-floored, and which contained mill, presses, and drying-pans. Then the merry work began. The negroes, who love to work in company, would sing, as, seated on benches or stools, they scraped the brown skin from the tubers. These were washed and fed to the mill, while the children took turns riding the mule which pulled the creaking beam that turned the mill.
The tubers are very juicy and, on being ground, make a milky white mass, which is put into soft baskets made of braided palm leaves. These baskets are placed under a heavy screw press, and the milky juice which flows from them is caught in tubs and set aside to settle. In twenty-four hours in the bottom of the tub is a deposit of starch several inches thick. This is the well-known tapioca of commerce, extensively used for puddings and other delicate foods; good also for starching clothes. The clear juice above it, a deadly poison, is drawn off through underground tiles--that no chicken or other living creature may taste it. The damp pulp in the baskets is transferred to large concave trays of brass or copper placed over a slow fire, where it is constantly stirred until entirely dry. It is now ready for use, is as coarse as corn meal, but very white, and has a pleasant flavor, resembling popcorn. It cannot be made into loaves, as much moisture would make it too glutinous to bake. It is eaten dry or mixed with beans or other vegetables at the table, or it is dampened and salted and baked on a griddle in a hoe-cake half an inch thick. In this way it is very nice and sweet. It is a favorite breakfast dish made into a clear glutinous mush called _pirao_ (pronounced _pe-rong_). Brazilians are very fond of the dry farina and throw it into the mouth by a movement so dexterous that it does not powder the face.
This is the bread of Brazil. Though wheat bread is sold in the bakeshops of the cities, it is not used to any great extent in the rural regions.
There is another species of mandioca called _aipin_ (pronounced _i-peen_), which cannot be converted into _farinha_. It matures in eight months and has no poisonous qualities. It is a staple article for the table, being baked like a potato, and its taste resembles that of a roasted chestnut.
TRAVELING BIRDS.
Cleaving the clouds with their moon-edged pinions, High over city and vineyard and mart; April to pilot them; May speeding after; And each bird's compass his small red heart.--_Edwin Arnold._
River valleys, coast lines, and mountain chains are the ways followed by the migrating birds; and frequent observations have determined the fact that birds travel at great heights, many as much as a mile from the earth. This may be one of the reasons why the tiny creatures have such keen sight; for from this distance they can obtain a far-reaching view of the surrounding country and distinguish landmarks readily.
If the weather is stormy or foggy, then the birds are obliged to fly much lower; and, too, it is then that the lights along the coast attract them and such countless numbers perish by being beaten against the lighthouses, many more birds being killed in the fall season of migration than in the spring, when the weather is less stormy.
They fly in vast numbers, and often on still nights they can be heard calling to each other. A good idea of their number can be obtained by the use of a telescope, which, if focused on the moon, will often show the birds on a brilliant background so that they can readily be discerned. The motion of their wings can easily be seen in this way, and the immense numbers of them better realized.
A good way to form an idea of the distance covered each year by the birds as they migrate is to take a single bird and note its journey. The bobolink makes his winter start in August, rests awhile in the marshlands and then visits the rice belt of the Southern states, doing damage directly and indirectly each year to an amount covering several millions of dollars. Then he flies over Cuba, and there his name is _chambergo_. Next he lingers along the coast of Yucatan, then goes on south through Central America and the island of Jamaica, in which place they call him "butter-bird," on account of his great plumpness, the result of the rice-feeding, no doubt; and from this place he makes one continuous long journey for over four hundred miles to Brazil, where he spends the winter. Here he stays until early spring, and then, if no accident has come to him, he will again brighten our months of blossoms by his chipper presence and his delightful song.
One of the most curious things observed in the fall migration of birds is in this same bobolink. By some manner of means many of these birds have gone west, some as far as Utah, to spend their summers, and when the winter is coming they, too, take their flight south, but not by the direct way through Mexico, and then to Central America, as would seem most natural, but following their hereditary instincts they come back to the Atlantic coast and journey down it, along the whole way to Florida, then across to Cuba, and on with those from New Jersey and New England until the winter resting-place is reached. This bird gives a most conclusive and interesting illustration of the permanency of bird routes and the "hereditary habit" of the winged flocks.--_Bangor Commercial._
MINERALS.
HORNBLENDE.--A mineral species, placed by Dana in the augite section of the anhydrous silicates. In common use the name is limited, as it was formerly applied only to the dark crystalline minerals which are met with in long, slender prisms, either scattered in quartz, granite, etc., or generally disseminated throughout their mass. The color of the mineral is usually black or dark green, owing to the presence of much iron. It appears to have been produced under conditions of fusion and cooling which cannot be imitated in the laboratory, the crystals obtained artificially being of augite type.
MALACHITE.--One of the native carbonates of copper. It is sometimes crystallized, but more often occurs in concretionary masses of various shades of green, which are generally banded or arranged in such a manner that the mineral, which takes a fine polish, is much prized as an ornamental stone. Great quantities of it are found in the Siberian mines, and many beautiful objects are manufactured from it.
QUARTZ.--The most abundant of all minerals, existing as a constituent of many rocks, composing of itself the rock known as quartzite or quartz rock and some of the sandstones and pure sand, forming the chief portion of most mineral veins. In composition it is silica, and when uncontaminated with any foreign intermixture it appears in clear, transparent crystals like glass or ice. Pure quartz is largely employed in the manufacture of glass and is commonly obtained for this purpose in the form of sand. Quartz veins with few exceptions form the gangues in which gold is found.
TOURMALINE.--A name applied to a group of double silicates, composed of many other minerals. The color of tourmalines varies with their composition. The red, called rubellite, are manganese tourmaline containing lithium and manganese, with little or no iron; the violet, blue and green contain iron, and the black are either iron or magnesium-iron tourmalines. Sometimes the crystals are red at one extremity and green at the other, or green internally and red externally, or _vice versa_. Pink crystals are found in the island of Elba. Tourmalines are not often used in jewelry, although they form beautiful gems and bear a high price. A magnificent group of pink tourmalines, nearly a foot square, was given by the king of Burmah to Col. Sykes, while commissioner to his court. The tourmaline appears to have been brought to Europe from Ceylon by the Dutch about the end of the seventeenth century, and was exhibited as a curiosity on account of its pyro-electric properties.
AGATE.--Of the quartz family, and is one of the modifications in which silica presents itself nearly in a state of purity. Agates are distinguished from the other varieties by the veins of different shades of color which traverse the stone in parallel concentric layers, often so thin as to number fifty or more to an inch. Externally the agates are rough and exhibit no appearance of their beautiful, veined structure, which is exposed on breaking them, and still more perfectly after polishing. Though the varieties of agate are mostly very common minerals in this country as well as in the old world, those localities only are of interest which have long been famous for their production and which still furnish all the agates required by commerce.
AMETHYST.--So named because it was supposed by the ancient Persians that cups made of it would prevent the liquor they contained from intoxicating. The stone consists of crystallized quartz of a purple or blue violet color, probably derived from a compound of iron and soda. The color is not always diffused through it, and is less brilliant by candlelight.
SERPENTINE.--Serpentine differs in composition from the other marbles. It is a soft mineral of different shades of green, of waxy luster, and susceptible of a high polish. It is better adapted to ornamental work within doors than to be exposed to the action of the weather.
SULPHUR.--An elementary substance belonging to the class of metalloids. It has been known from the earliest times as the product of volcanoes, and as a natural mineral deposit in clay and marl formations. It also exists in primitive rocks, as granite and mica.
ACCIDENTS TO BIRDS.
GUY STEALEY.
Strange accidents happen to birds as well as to people, and some of them are as unexplainable as those that fall to our lot. I remember finding a meadow lark suspended from a barbed-wire fence several years ago, dead, its throat pierced by one of the sharp barbs. The bird had apparently attempted to fly between the wires and, miscalculating the distance, had dashed against the barb.
Another curious case which came under my notice was that of a small water bird. While walking along the bank of the river flowing through our place, I discovered the little fellow dangling from a willow, his head firmly wedged in one of the forks. He had been there some time, and how he ever got caught in that fashion is a mystery.
But the strangest mishap of all I ever witnessed occurred last summer. I was picking peas in the garden when my attention was attracted by the fluttering and half choked cries of a bird a little distance from me. Hastening to the place I found a brown field bird hanging from a pea vine. Around its neck was a pea clinger, which formed a perfect noose. As nearly everyone knows, pea clingers form into all imaginable shapes. The bird was feeding under the vines and, being frightened by my approach and in trying to escape, had thrust its head through the clinger with the above result. I soon freed it and saw it fly away but little the worse for the adventure.
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_To the Editor of_ BIRDS AND ALL NATURE:
I find your periodical most interesting and instructive, as it brings one into closer relation with all forms of life.
Better than a knowledge of Hebrew, Greek and Latin is it to know what the birds, the trees, and flowers all say, what the winds and waves, the clouds and constellations all tell us of coming events.
There is a world of observation, thought and enjoyment for those who study nature in all her varying moods that is denied those who, having eyes see not and having ears hear not.