462 



THE NATURE BOOK 



bv the necessity of finding food, often fall 

 eas}^ victims to the prowling fox. Pheas- 

 ants, which are fed by hand in the coverts 

 during a shai"p winter, are especially 

 exposed to danger from foxes ; and the 

 moorhens and wild ducks, that resort to 

 the margins of flowing streams, frequently 

 find their four-footed foe in wait for them 

 amongst the rushes and osiers. 



The hibernating squirrel and dormouse 

 are usually well prepared for a bitter 

 winter. Moles go down deep in the earth 

 during keen frosts. Barn rats and house 

 mice escape many of the trials of hard 

 weather, for they flock to the ricks and 

 the outbuildings of farms at the first 

 approach of winter, and are seldom seen 

 at a distance from the habitations of men. 



Snow-bound birds endure sharper 

 hunger and are more tormented by the 

 grip of cold than the mammals. The red- 

 wings, fieldfares, and other visitants to 

 this country leave the northern regions 

 as soon as the temperature sinks. They 

 fly southwards, and often find the reign 

 of frost in other lands. The coming of 

 fieldfares denotes the approach of snow 

 and frost as surely as the barometer. Large 

 flocks of these migrants resort to the 

 central and southern districts of England, 

 when arctic conditions drive them from 

 their native countries. They arrive 

 wearied from their long flight, and 

 descend upon the waste of snow. In a 

 few days the immigrants lose flesh, and 

 become weak on the wing. They hunt 

 for turnip fields, and feed amongst the 

 pigeons and other birds. Many of them 

 are seized by hawks. 



The store of berries may have been 

 plentiful in the autumn, but in protracted 

 frost this fare runs short, and hosts of 

 birds flit disconsolately over the whitened 

 land, searching vainly for unfrozen 

 marshes. Curlews and plovers wing their 

 way slowly from shire to shire, uttering 

 mournful cries. Starved and emaciated, 

 they lose before long the power of flight, 

 ancl creep about amongst the frozen sedge, 

 striving to stir up insects from the ada- 

 mant soil or thick coating of snow. 



The shyest and wariest birds are tamed 

 by the snow. Wild ducks, teal, and geese 

 come within range of the gunner. At 

 night, on the sea marshes, the air rings 



with the notes of lamenting wild-fowl. 

 The receding tide leaves a strip of ooze 

 on either side of the creeks, and here 

 perchance the starving multitude may find 

 a few smaU fish and scraps of food. 



Snow speUs suffering and tragedy for 

 most feathered creatures. When the snow 

 lies day after day, under a hard, blue sky, 

 and the hardy ferns and even the gorse 

 droop, many corpses of small birds are to 

 be seen in the woodlands. The foot 

 touches the frozen body of the deUcately 

 fashioned long-tailed titmouse, a httle 

 handful now of bone and feather. A 

 dying blackbird emits a weak and piteous 

 cry, as he hops feebly to the shelter of a 

 bramble-bush. In the tree-tops the rooks 

 caw dismaUy, as they survey the wide 

 expanse of snowy country. 



Around every farmyard, finches, linnets, 

 and sparrows throng in search of grain 

 and refuse from the kitchen. The birds 

 are so enfeebled that they may almost be 

 taken in the hand. If the kitchen door 

 is left open, the robin wiU hop in and pick 

 up the crumbs from the table. Scatter 

 bread in the garden, and there will soon 

 be a company of grateful guests. The 

 chaffinches swoop down from the bushes, 

 the blackbird pops out of the shrubbery, 

 the pertinacious sparrows fight all-comers 

 at the feast, and the jackdaw descends 

 into the midst of the crowd. At roosting 

 time the smaller birds cheep and twitter 

 amongst the thick ivy upon the waUs. 

 It is here that they nested in the spring. 



For the fov.'ls of the air snow is the 

 firmest lock upon the larder. Food in 

 plenty lies beneath that crisp, gleaming 

 coverlet of white,; but the impenetrable 

 depth of snow closes the storehouse. 

 Snow-bound birds hav^e scarce the heart 

 to chirrup from the eaves when day breaks 

 red in the east. They draw near to man, 

 and seem to solicit his succour when Dame 

 Nature deprives them of her sustenance. 

 How gleefully the starving birds salute 

 the breath of a south breeze ! When the 

 drops faU from the roofs, and the snow 

 melts on the banks, there will be heard the 

 bright note of the robin, the paan of the 

 thrush, and the piping of the blackbird, 

 as though Spring had come to expel hoar 

 Winter. 



Walter M. Gallichan. 



