52 Bird -Lore 



Birds, through lack of normal health or diet, or through changes in cUmate, 

 may for a time show striking peculiarities in the color of their plumage, or 

 through wear and constant use, in the markings of their plumage. Why birds 

 need to change their feathers, and when they do it, will be the subject of the 

 next exercise, and differences in colors and markings due to sex will be described. 



REFERENCE 



Chapman: Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America, pp. 87-97. 



FOR AND FROM ADULT AND YOUNG OBSERVERS 



AN INTERESTING TRIP 



I took such an interesting trip today (Dec. 20, 1910) that I think it should 

 be recorded. 



At the northeastern foot of Weionkhiege Hill a small stream flows, dan- 

 cing over huge blocks of granite gneiss through a clump of spruce. A small 

 dam has made a Uttle pool in this grove, and the sun shone in from a 

 southern exposure, melting the ice and giving a touch of spring to the air, 

 fragrant with the smell of spruce. 



This little grove was fairly teeming with bird life. As I approached it, four 

 Crows flew cawing from the trees to a nearby fence, and a Blue Jay lent a 

 beautiful touch of color, while he sounded his discordant alarm. I moved 

 quietly into the little haven, and sat down to eat lunch. 



Soon the birds were moving again. The Blue Jay sneaked back, with an 

 occasional question, to peer out from behind a branch. A Chickadee began 

 again his busy search for food. He forgot all about me, and went through his 

 beautiful gymnastics within ten feet of me on the graceful twigs of a birch. 

 Several Brown Creepers twittered while they searched the spruce branches for 

 insects' eggs or belated millers. A flock of Kinglets flew from a tree-top and 

 lost themselves in another. Somewhere in the gloom of the grove a Downy 

 Woodpecker squeaked, as he rapped on a dead branch in search of borers, 

 and I turned in time to see an audacious red squirrel scamper away with a bread 

 crust that I had thrown to one side. 



When I had finished my lunch and my day dreams, I stood up and stooped 

 for my specimen bag. A flutter and whirr of wings startled me, and I looked 

 to see the flash of brown wings and a broad spread fantail disappear through 

 low-hung green branches. It told the story of a Grouse disturbed from his 

 noon-day sunning, where he had moved when all was quiet. 



A closer examination of the snow revealed more wonders, the tracks where a 

 mouse had run under a bough; four close-set holes in the snow, where a mink 

 had left the brook for a refuge under a rock-shelf ; many rabbit tracks, showing 

 where a game of tag had been played, and a succession of wild leaps followed 

 by fox tracks, revealing the story of its interruption, while the clear-cut, 



