THE WILD MOTHER 



more a mother to them than the dead stump is 

 to the toadstools. She is host only to the little 

 parasites. 



I do not know of a single mother among our 

 reptiles, or a single father-mother. The mother- 

 passion, so far as my observation goes, plays no 

 part whatever in reptilian life. Whereas, passing 

 on to the birds, the next order in the line, the 

 mother-passion becomes, by all odds, the most 

 interesting item, the most determining single fac- 

 tor in bird life. More than the song or the color 

 or the courting of the male is the mother-love of 

 the female in every ornithologist's records. 



This is strikingly true also of the mammals. It 

 is as if the watcher in the woods went out to see 

 the mother animal only. It is her going and com- 

 ing that he follows; her faring, foraging, and 

 watch-care that let him deepest into the secrets 

 of wild animal life. 



On one of the large estates here in Hingham, 

 a few weeks ago, a fox was found to be destroy- 

 ing poultry. The time of the raids, and their bold- 

 ness, were proof enough that the fox must be a 

 female with young. Poisoned meat was prepared 

 for her, and at once the raids ceased. A few days 



