626 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



The northern shrike is generally given the credit of living to 

 a certain extent on mice, but the only evidence pointing in that 

 direction that I have ever seen is that, like the mouse-eating hawks 

 and owls, he comes quickly enough to the call; nor is there any 

 need of concealment when dealing with this bird. He will come 

 fearlessly within a few yards of you, hopping and flying from twig 

 to twig, with his long tail continually moving up and down in his 

 excitement, apparently impelled more by motives of curiosity than 

 hunger. 



But when it comes to calling up to you such shy creatures as 

 the mink or fox the utmost caution is necessary, for although lack- 

 ing the keenness of eyesight possessed by birds, the acuteness of 

 their sense of smell and hearing is something marvelous; yet 

 when conditions are favorable they may sometimes be brought quite 

 close and studied to advantage. 



Standing one day beside an old tumble-down rail fence that ran 

 along between the woods and salt marshes, half hidden in the bram- 

 bles and tall grass, I caught the merest glimpse of a mink slipping 

 along between the bottom rails. As he was evidently unaware 

 of my presence, I determined to see more of him, and squeaked in 

 as mouselike a manner as possible, and quickly had the satisfaction 

 of seeing him make his appearance on a projecting stake much 

 nearer than when I had first seen him. Stretching himself along 

 the stake, he appeared to listen and look in my direction, but al- 

 though I was standing in plain sight on the edge of the marsh hardly 

 a rod away, the fact that he was obliged to look directly into the 

 sun made it quite impossible for him to clearly distinguish what 

 he saw. At the end of a few moments he dropped into the grass 

 and started in my direction, the trembling grass blades clearly indi- 

 cating his progress as he approached nearer and nearer, until al- 

 most at my feet he vanished, and, in spite of the most patient wait- 

 ing on my part, absolutely refused to show himself again. 



The last instance of the kind that has come under my notice 

 happened on a clear moonlight night as I was wheeling along a 

 lonely road between old apple orchards. Some part of the machine 

 squeaked at intervals in a way that might possibly have been mis- 

 taken for a mouse. At all events, an owl appeared to have been 

 deceived thereby, for he came flapping out of the orchard and flew 

 alongside, at times coming quite close and again swinging off into the 

 shadow, till at last, convinced that his supper lay not in that direc- 

 tion, he put on fresh speed and left me far behind. Perhaps he 

 would have done as he did if the bicycle had not squeaked, but, judg- 

 ing from his behavior, I am inclined to think otherwise. 



