THE Al'lH'BON 1U1J.KTI N u 



Professor Norman A. Wood and I sat on the porch at my home, 

 talking birds, and he wagered me that I could not take a good picture 

 of the pair. Out of six pictures I managed to get one good one. 



The house is made by taking an 1 8-inch length of a post, and split- 

 ting off the four sides as nearly alike as can be done, then sawing the 

 center off at each end and nailing the four sides to the two ends. This 

 makes a very fine house. I judged about sixty houses, and chose this 

 one to be the best of the lot for workmanship, originality and practica- 

 bility. I have had it for four years; seven broods have been raised 

 in it and two have been destroyed. 



Since I laid aside my gun for a camera, or cameras (I have four of 

 'em), I have come to look upon birds as almost human, and the human 

 traits that I find are so numerous that I cannot believe that we are the 

 only beings that will see heaven and hell. 



Birds have many traits that are esteemed by us humans as marks of 

 high character. They are patient, industrious, and nothing seems to 

 daunt their courage or dampen their jov in living. In many ways man 

 is not superior to his feathered friends. 



Where the Meadow Begins 



THE Greenwood Lumber Company is cutting the hemlock- 

 maple timber along the shore of Lake Superior in the region 

 west of Ontonagon, Michigan, at the rate of twenty million feet 

 a year. Thirty carloads a day find their way to the sawmill in Ontona- 

 gon. A pitiful waste of land is left in the trail of the lumbermen, swept 

 in turn by fire and wind. The Finns are following in this trail of the 

 lumberjacks, transforming the waste areas into dairy farms. These im- 

 migrants are clean, thrifty and industrious. Rich soil, the absence of 

 the common weeds and the prevalence of white clover make the transi- 

 tion a rapid one. The fragrance and beauty of these fields of clover and 

 timothy, densely populated by the birds of our prairie, overlooking the 

 beautiful waters of Lake Superior, is a thrill for anyone interested in 

 outdoor life. 



The bobolinks are more numerous to the square mile than on the 

 Illinois prairies. The meadowlarks, too, are there. I heard only the 

 song of the western one. Sparrows are omnipresent with few of the 

 English brand. Savannas, which in migration hide behind hummocks 

 and tufts of grass, perch on the fence posts in full song with no apparent 

 fear of the passerby. Henslow's sparrow was heard. Goldfinches and 

 song sparrows are numerous. 



Swallows sweep over the fragrant clover fields or twitter from tele- 

 graph wires. The cliff swallows nest under the eaves of the Grange 



