528 



HUDSON-FULTON CELEBRATION 



birds are to be reckoned with the things that 

 have been, rather than the things that are. 

 While it is true that the Ruffed Grouse and 

 the Bob White are not by any means extinct 

 in eastern New York, so very few remain they 

 are hardly to be taken into account. Elsewhere 

 in New York state, there are localities in which 

 the shooter may find some of these birds to 

 shoot; but here he can only "hunt" for them, 

 and sagely wonder why they exist no more. It 

 is high time to enact a ten-years close season 

 for both the species named above. 



The breeding of wild birds in captivity is now 

 attracting much attention, and the propagation 

 of gallinaceous game birds in preserves, as a 

 legitimate industry, is directly in line with the 

 preservation of our small remnant of Bob-White, 

 Ruffed Grouse and Pinnated Grouse. 



There are two habitants of the Hudson Valley 

 that we could lose only with keen regret, but 

 both are gradually fading away. The nocturnal 

 Whippoorwill is known by his picturesque and 

 far-reaching twilight song, — or whistle, — for 

 the call surely belongs in the whistle class, and 

 it is easily imitated by any good whistler. 



When the mantle of night has fallen over the 

 few country places that remain in the East, and 

 the busy world is still, those who dwell in sum- 

 mer near quiet woods often hear a loud, clear 

 and altogether melodious whistle from some- 

 where near the barn. As plainly as print it 

 says, with sharp emphasis, "JVhip-poor-Willj" 

 and repeats it many times. Before each regular 

 call there is a faint "chuck," or catching of the 

 breath, strong emphasis on the "whip," and at 

 the end a clear, piercing whistle that is positive- 

 ly thrilling. 



Sometimes the bird will perch within thirty 

 feet of your tent-door, and whistle at the rate 

 of forty whippoorwills to the minute. Its call 

 awakens sentimental reflections, and upon most 

 persons exercises a soothing influence. It has 

 been celebrated in several beautiful poems and 

 songs. 



This bird, — like the next species to be men- 

 tioned, — is strictly insectivorous in its food 

 habits, and renders excellent service to man. In 

 perching it chooses a large and nearly longitud- 

 inal limb, on which it sits lengthwise, in close 

 imitation of a bark-covered knot. 



The Night-"Hawk," is closely related to the 

 preceding species, but is very far removed from 

 the real hawks. The Whippoorwill is known by 

 being heard, through darkness, but the Night- 

 Hawk strongly appeals to the eye. When the 

 western sun is far down, and the evening air is 

 still, watch for a dark-colored bird with long 

 and sharp-pointed wings gracefully cleaving 

 the air three hundred feet above the earth. If 

 it has a large white spot under each wing, and is 

 busy catching insects in mid-air, of a surety the 

 bird is a Night-Hawk. 



But for one thing, we could wish that we could 

 have been the official naturalist of the "Half- 

 Moon," and seen all the birds that Hudson saw; 

 and that is, — we would much rather be alive to- 

 day. Thanks to many factors, the Hudson val- 

 ley has not yet been seriously denuded of its 

 forests ; but for all that, the status of wild bird- 

 life within it has greatly changed for the worse. 

 The waterfowl and the gallinaceous game-birds 

 have been almost annihilated ; and of the herons, 

 egrets, plovers, sandpipers, and large bird forms 

 of every kind, it is probable that less than one 

 one-hundredth now remain. 



To a great extent, this is the inevitable re- 

 sult of the settlement of a virgin wilderness by 

 a seething mass of predatory, bird-killing, wild- 

 life-destroying human population ; but at the 

 same time the cultivated fields and fruit trees 

 have brought a population of insectivorous birds 

 probably much greater than that which existed 

 here in the days of the forest primeval. 



Of the birds that were abundant four hundred 

 years ago, the Great Auk, Labrador Duck and 

 Passenger Pigeon are now totally extinct. The 

 Trumpeter Swan, Carolina Parakeet, Whoop- 

 ing Crane and Heath Hen are on the verge of 

 extinction, and very soon will join the Great 

 Auk and the Dodo. In exchange for the North 

 American species that are wholly or nearly 

 gone, we have acquired — what? Ahab, the 

 English Sparrow, and the Starling, — no more. 



Today the lovers of wild life are engaged in 

 a hand-to-hand struggle with the grand army 

 of annihilators, to save at least a respectable 

 remnant of our wild life and forests for the mil- 

 lions of Americans who come after us. It will 

 be well for us if we so discharge our obligations, 

 that posterity will not have cause to heap curses 

 upon us for our improvidence, and for our dere- 

 liction in the duties of good citizenship. 



