at something, an attitude of reverence, so to speak, we see how leHgion in orni- 

 thology preceded the romance of it. Certain of tlie birds waited on the deities, 

 or had access to their presence, in consequence of which they were set apart 

 and protected. Sometimes they were prophets of the gods, foretelling future 

 events with accuracy. Their flights were noted by religious devotees, who, 

 unconsciously to themselves ]irobably, and certainly unsuspected by their fol- 

 lowers, were sure to he "out" at migration times. At such times, should the birds 

 choose a natural course past a city and be seen only after they had left it behind 

 them, the prophet knew, in the depths of his religious being, that the gods had 

 doomed the city. It was only when the study of birds as an actual science 

 developed the fact that these denizens of the air depended more upon climate and 

 necessary diet than upon the will of gruesome gods that the religion of orni- 

 thology gave place to romance. \nd romance is the after-dinner course of real 

 ornithology^ — romance lends a fanciful touch to figures and data, and apologizes 

 to the average student for intermissions that seem dedicated to frolic. 



In the universe of romance, North America has its full share. Preceding the 

 romance was, and still is (among the native tribes), the religion of superstition. 

 The deities foretell certain death of persons among the Eskimos by the passing 

 of a bluejay or the croak of a raven. 



Our own poet, Edgar Allen Poe, was not an Eskimo, but he indulged in the 

 well-known superstitions about the bird when he permitted the raven to perch 

 above his door. Many of the Arctic tribes are known to protect the ominous 

 bird to this day. The Indians of Alaska revere and even fear it, like a black 

 spirit from the land of demons. 



Song and story among American aborigines are replete with bird supersti- 

 tion. So prominent was it that early historians made mention of it to preserve 

 it, and students of languages are putting it into books, so that romance and 

 legend may not pass away with our native Indians. 



The government itself is preserving the history of American superstition 

 among its precious archives. Reports of the Ethnological Bureau are entertain- 

 ing reading for vacation times. True, they are "heavy volumes" in some cases, 

 but there are supplements. Were these reports placed in more schools and other 

 libraries, the inclination to read more objectionable and not half so entertaining 

 literature would go quickly out, like a fire-proof match, without burning the 

 fingers. 



To those who find a fascination in prehistoric legends the study of bird 

 representation on the ancient pottery of some of our western Indians, and in 

 the mounds of the Mississippi Valley, is offered in some of these government 

 reports. They are a very mine of suggestion and information. Imagination, 

 subtle guide to many a self-entertaining mind, runs fast and faster on before 

 while one reads, and one wonders how it came to pass one never knew about 

 government reports before. 



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