126 



THE GLIDE TO NATURE. 



HOMESICK UNTO DEATH. 



BY BESSIE E. PUTNAM, CONNEAUT LAKE, 



PA. 



Love of liberty may be discerned in 

 even the humblest of God's creatures, 

 and while the incidents related can 

 scarcely be pigeon-holed with premedi- 

 tated suicides, they certainly indicate a 

 homesickness which resulted in indif- 

 ference to life, its joys, and necessities. 



Some years ago, two horned toads, or 

 properly speaking", horned lizards, were 

 sent to the writer from California, ar- 

 riving apparently none the worse for the 

 week's ride in a tin box nearly across 

 the continent. The larger measured 

 just six inches in length; the smaller, 

 two: and both were beautifully marked 

 in almost white, black, and all the in- 

 termediate shades, this mimicry of the 

 sands in which it lived being a not un- 

 common protective device among ani- 

 mals. 



They absolutely refused all vegetable 

 food, and seemed insulted if a dead or 

 maimed insect was placed before them. 

 The_\ T were equally averse to eating under 

 the scrutiny of human eyes, and when 

 a choice six-footed bite was offered thev 

 would close the eyes, sometimes partly 

 opening one in a moment to watch the 

 insect : and only after we had retired 

 would the swift tongue dart forth and 

 instantaneously appropriate it, provided 

 Mr. Insect had not in the meantime 

 walked away — which he usually did. 



Despite persistent efforts on our part, 

 they grew more and more emaciated, the 

 clear colors changed into the dingy hue 

 of the clay dust into which, with one or 

 two dextrous flops, they were wont to 

 bury themselves so completely that only 

 the upper portion of the head and eyes 

 protruded. But this position, an ideal 

 one in their native sands, availed not as 

 a food-gathering ruse in captivity, for 

 few insects passed within reach of the 

 cage. 



The larger toad, more shy, and con- 

 sequently catching fewer insects, lived 

 just a month. The smaller survived it a 

 fortnight, and was, as a last resort, re- 

 leased in the garden, though never for a 

 moment lost from sight. But though 

 ants and bugs passed and repassed within 

 reach it was too sick or homesick to 

 notice them, and in spite of our best in- 



tentions it died, to all appearances from 

 starvation in the midst of plenty, simply 

 because it would not eat. 



It is recorded that horned toads some- 

 times eject blood from the eyes in self- 

 defense. ( )ur pets, though frequently 

 handled, never showed signs of resent- 

 ment until their last moments. Voiceless 

 before, each, with a peculiar squeak, 

 rushed toward the hand of its mistress 

 with widely opened mouth as though 

 to devour it. and then sank back lifeless. 



THE PET HERON. 

 Photograph by H. W. Putnam. 



Whether induced by rage or pain, the 

 phenomenon, being observed in both 

 instances, was doubly impressive. 



A Great Blue Heron, (Ardea hero- 

 dias) after being shot thrice through 

 the head, was brutally knocked down by 

 a hunter with the butt of his gun and 

 left to die. Later another hunter, find- 

 ing that it had regained its feet but was 

 too badly hurt to offer any resistance, 

 carried it home. For the next twenty- 

 four hours it was kept in or at the en- 

 trance to a village store, mounted on a 

 dry goods box, absolutely refusing food. 

 and submitting passively to the gaze and 

 strokes of those passing. 



It was condemned to death finally by 

 the proprietor, a man too humane to 

 see it starve to death and too busy to 

 experiment with it. Thence it was ulti- 

 mately rescued and brought to the home 



