THE MISSING TOOTH 91 



from severe cold, heavy storms, high winds and 

 tides. I have known the nests of a whole colony of 

 gulls and terns to be swept away in a great storm ; 

 while the tides, over and over, have flooded the inlet 

 marshes and drowned out the nests in the grass 

 those of the clapper rails by thousands. 



I remember a late spring storm that came with 

 the returning redstarts and, in my neighborhood, 

 killed many of them. Toward evening of that day 

 one of the little black-and-orange voyageurs fluttered 

 against the window and we let him in, wet, chilled, 

 and so exhausted that for a moment he lay on his 

 back in my open palm. Soon after there was another 

 soft tapping at the window, and two little redstarts 

 were sharing our cheer and drying their butterfly 

 wings in our warmth. Both of these birds would 

 have perished had we not harbored them for the 

 night. 



The birds and animals are not as weather-wise as 

 we ; they cannot foretell as far ahead nor provide as 

 certainly against need, despite the popular notion to 

 the contrary. 



We point to the migrating birds, to the muskrat 

 houses, to the hoards of the squirrels, and say, 

 " How wise and far-sighted these Nature-taught chil- 

 dren are ! " True, they are, but only for conditions 

 that are normal. Their wisdom does not cover the 

 unusual. The gray squirrels did not provide for the 

 unusually hard weather of last winter. Three of them 



