Disabled Birds 



By WILLIAM COGSWELL CLARKE. New York City 



RECENTLY, on our rambles, we have found a number of incapacitated 

 birds. After spending much time for over thirty years in the woods and 

 back lots, I have chanced upon more injured birds in the last two 

 years than ever before. The injuries, except one, were directly or indirectly 

 due to man. This increase in bird injuries fits properly with the increase in 

 population. 



On a small pond, in New Hampshire, near Lake Umbagog, we spied a big 

 Blue Heron standing on a log over the water. We tried to see how near we 

 could approach him by moving our boat quietly along the shore. To our sur- 

 prise we kept getting nearer and still nearer. The bird never moved. We were 

 soon within a hundred feet and still he did not fly. We knew then that there 

 was something wrong; it was too late in the fall for him to be an immature 

 bird. At thirty feet we could see that he was full grown and fully feathered, 

 and that his gaze was fixed seemingly upon the shore. Just as the bow of the 

 boat slipped beneath his log he started up and ran feebly into the woods, 

 where one of us easily caught him. The bird made a little effort to escape, but 

 was weak. We watched with care his powerful bill, recalling the fact that 

 an Indian was said to have been killed by a terrific thrust from the bill of a 

 Blue Heron which was driven through the eye into the brain. This would 

 seem scarcely possible. We looked over our bird for injuries and found none. 

 His feathers seemed to be in perfect condition and his weight was good. After 

 allowing him to stand among the cows in the pasture for the afternoon, we 

 rowed him across to a safe cove where frogs were plentiful, so that if he re- 

 covered, food would be at hand. The only explanation I have to offer is that 

 he had some acute illness, the nature of which we could not determine. 



That fall, we were out in the fields one day and came upon an old Crow 

 under a bush. We picked him up, after he had thoroughly bitten our fingers, 

 and found that both tibiae had been broken, apparently by shot, since there 

 was a small amount of dried blood on each side of the legs over the breaks. 

 The injury was what is called a compound fracture, meaning that there was 

 a direct communication through the skin to the broken bone, permitting in- 

 fection to pass easily down to the break. A hasty examination of the bird's 

 body revealed at the time no other injury. We thought it would be well worth 

 while to see what could be done for the bird. If his legs would heal, he might 

 be ready for the spring corn-planting, even if he could not overtake his mates 

 on their southern trip that fall. 



When there is a break in that part of an extremity where there is a single 

 bone, the muscles pull upon the fragments so that they overlap. To correct 

 this deformity in the human thigh after a break of the femur, a weight is 

 attached below the knee by a cord running over a pulley. Traction is thus 



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