The Snowflake 49 



The Snowflake belongs to the ground-loving portion of its 

 His Nest tribe, if such a distinction is allowable. Not only does it nest 



on the ground, but as far as we may judge from its winter habits, 

 spends most of its time there when not in flight. I doubt if it even roosts in trees, 

 for those that I have seen hereabouts took shelter after feeding, either in a brush- 

 heap or in the edges of a corn-stack which always affords shelter for birds that 

 prefer to squat rather than perch, at least in winter. 



The Longspur clings to the ground in this same way, and the Horned Lark 

 also, and we can easily see that it would be a matter of heredity in species that 

 are natives of countries offering such poor perching accommodations in the 

 matter of trees. 



Dr. Coues thus describes the nest: "The few nests of the Snowflake that 

 I have seen were built with a great quantity of a kind of short curly grass which 

 grows in the Arctic regions, mixed with moss, the whole forming a very sub- 

 stantial structure, with walls an inch or more thick, and a small, deep cavity. 

 This is warmly lined with a quantity of large feathers from some water-fowl. 

 They are built on the ground, often covered and hidden by tussocks of grass 

 or even slabs of rock. The eggs are exceedingly variable in color as well as size. 



The ground is white or whitish, sometimes flecked all over with 

 The Eggs neutral tint shell-markings overlaid by deep brown spots. . . . 



In other cases, we have a heavy wreath of dull brown blotches 

 around the larger end. Those who have seen the Snowflake at home in summer 

 speak highly of its vocal ability, and have also a good word for the fidelity of the 

 bright bird to its mate and its young." 



To us who may only see the Snowflake in its wanderings, its chief interest 

 and importance is that its coming brings a bit of novelty to the winter landscape, 

 and that it is one of the most furtive of the great tribe of Weed Warriors that, 

 through the very necessities of its existence, consumes vast numbers of 

 weed seeds before the growing seasons quickens them to life. The careless land- 

 owner for the lack of a few days or even hours spent with a scythe in his pasture 

 and old fields, invites the company of weeds that will not only choke his crops 

 but rob the very soil of its fertility. Then comes winter, and while the man 

 withdraws into his house, and in storms goes out only to feed the cattle, the 

 band of feathered workers that are a great part of Nature's scheme of economics, 

 silently appear, and without confusion fall to their allotted tasks: The Cross- 

 bills and Pine Grosbeaks, through their feeding, to plant evergreen forests; 

 the Waxwings to establish the pointed cedars on bare hillsides, drape the by- 

 ways with bittersweet and mesh the thickets with catbriar; the Myrtle Warblers 



to spread the persistent greenery of the bayberry, together with 

 His Food many other berry-bearing bushes; while the gentle Snowflakes 



in the hollows, always keeping close to the ground, glean from 

 the broken weed-stalks that have been overlooked by their kinsmen in the earlier 

 season of plenty. 



