The Staghorn Sumac 9 



find the chumps of sumac barren of feeding birds. In the fall, when the pepper- 

 idge bears, you will find each tree alive with many different species, greedily 

 stripping them to the last little drupe; then, as winter approaches, arrives, and 

 vanishes, one by one, in the order of their delectableness, do the other natural 

 fruits and berries vanish — wild grapes, woodbine, mountain-ash, and numerous 

 others; but as long as a few frozen apples still cling to the trees, just so long do 

 the few remaining Robins, Waxwings, and others evade the waiting sumac. 

 The first spring arrivals come at last: Bluebirds, Robins, Flickers, and Black- 

 birds galore. There is still nearly enough food to satisfy the returning hosts, 

 for it has been augmented by early insects, swelling' buds, and the melting snows 

 have uncovered hidden stores. And still the sumac waits! 





A !< 





STAGHORNi SUMAC 



A little later come the Phoebes and Hermit Thrushes. And then, in this 

 latitude, with a most charming regularity, comes something else. A change of 

 wind to the north, several inches of snow, freezing at night, and, out of the soft 

 ground, great quadrangular crystals of ice appear. The morning after the storm 

 you will find the Robins, hustlers that they are, searching the wet edges of the 

 ponds and brooks, hopping along the sheltered sides of buildings and fences 

 and even out on the snow-covered lawns where they no doubt find many a 

 blizzard-caught 'night-walker;' — and they are so cheerful about it too! Much 

 different are the actions of the Crackles who perch in bunches at the tops of the 

 windiest trees they can find and, in mufiled feathers, disconsolately pulse out a 

 Grackle curse every few minutes. 



It is at such a time the sumac has its day — just go out late in the afternoon 

 and see for yourself. Bluebirds are there in bunches, and the Robins, with 



