NATURAL HISTORY. 



387 



was called in, and soon the trio was beset 

 by an array of gunners, lured by the 

 tempting offer of 8 cents for each bird car- 

 case with feathers or plumage in choice 

 condition. 



Fields and peach orchards now are alive 

 with insectivorous birds, and "sportsmen" 

 will have no trouble in bagging big strings. 

 Snaring is a favorite method. The birds 

 can be approached in the brush at night 

 with great nets, in whose meshes they be- 

 come entangled. 



The collectors to-day received several 

 strings of birds from hunters who ventured 

 out in the morning. Crows and blackbirds 

 are abundant, but there will be more diffi- 

 culty in obtaining owls and larks. 



The hunters do not take into considera- 

 tion that the removal of 20,000 birds will 

 give insects greater opportunity to ravage 

 crops about Milford, and the farmers are 

 active in the work. 



President Alfred D. Poole, of the Dela- 

 ware Game Protective Association, has 

 taken official cognizance of the wholesale 

 killing. Officials of the association will 

 have their detectives alert to arrest viola- 

 tors of the stringent game laws. Mr. Poole 

 is a wealthy manufacturer of Wilmington 

 and a thorough sportsman. In a public let- 

 ter he points out that bluebirds are pro- 

 tected by law and that for each bluebird 

 killed the penalty is $1 fine. Detectives will 

 examine the shipments to New York to 

 learn whether birds protected by law are 

 killed. If any are found the person having 

 them is liable to the penalty, as well as the 

 person destroying birds. — New York 

 Herald. 



Here is another evidence of the greed, 

 destructiveness and recklessness of the 

 bird millinery people. It is astounding that 

 the American public should so long have 

 submitted to the murderous propensities of 

 this trade. It is still more astounding that 

 American women could be induced to sus- 

 tain such wholesale murderers as these mil- 

 linery bird skin collectors are. It is simply 

 due to thoughtlessness on the part of women 

 that this work is allowed to go on. If they 

 would refuse to wear the feathers and skins 

 of innocent birds, the dealers would quit 

 buying them, and the American hunters 

 would quit killing them. Will the time ever 

 come when women will realize the enormity 

 of the crimes they commit by encouraging 

 the work of these bird destroyers? 



ANSWER. 



What is the usual color of the mountain 

 sheep? I have a sheep's head with horns 

 1$% inches in circumference and 31^ 

 inches long. Its color is dark gray. The 

 animal was secured in the Ten Sleep coun- 

 try, Wyoming, last fall. Are sheep darker 

 in the fall than at other times? 



D. C. Henry, Cotopaxi, Col. 



The color of the mountain sheep is, in 

 November and December, a peculiar drab 

 or gray, which is commonly described as 

 slate color. The under parts, of course, 

 are lighter. By the end of winter the 

 clean bright color of autumn has consid- 

 erably faded, and become gray and 

 weather worn. 



WISCONSIN BIRDS. 



THEODORA M. TOWNSEND. 



No State has a greater variety of birds 

 than Wisconsin. We still have vast forests 

 of oak and pine, unharmed by the axe of 

 the chopper. Small lakes lie scattered here 

 and there, their shores fringed with beau- 

 tiful trees, and the rivers are shaded by 

 bending willows. Thus Wisconsin is an 

 ideal home for the birds. Many of the mi- 

 grating thousands stop to rest and decide 

 to stay with us. In the winter the chic-a- 

 dee and the saucy jay remain to cheer us. 

 St. Valentine's day arrives, and with it 

 comes the horned lark. He never yet has 

 failed us, and we learn to look for his 

 coming. Later we awake on a sunny 

 morning to hear the familiar call of the 

 robins. Then follows the bluebird, and 

 May brings the Baltimore oriole. He has 

 returned to his old nest in the tall elm. 

 Day after day, his modest little wife, in 

 her gown of green, sits on the cozy nest, 

 while he perches on a slender twig above 

 her, his saucy black head tipped to one 

 side and singing with all his might. 



Drifting down the river on a summer 

 afternoon we hear from a hidden thicket 

 the catbird's cry; and a brown thrush, 

 startled by- our noise, flits away out of 

 sight. We drift between the shaded banks 

 and great fields of tall, wild rice waving in 

 the summer's breeze. Hundreds of black- 

 birds are feeding on the seeds,, and its 

 frail stems are bent with their weight. A 

 red-breasted grosbeak watches us from 

 the branches of a wild apple tree; and in 

 the shallow water of a sandbar, which 

 reaches far out into the river, a little sand- 

 piper wades in search of food. 



Suddenly there is a flash of scarlet. It 

 is the tanager; one of the most beautiful 

 of Wisconsin's birds, flitting to and fro 

 among the trees. In the sky above a huge 

 hawk is sailing gracefully, with his wings 

 spread wide. 



In the twilight we moor our boat, and 

 as we walk home the night hawks circle 

 above us, uttering their shrill cries. Swal- 

 lows perch on the telegraph wires with 

 their heads beneath their wings and sleep. 



Wisconsin's people realized, long ago. 

 the value of the birds, and now our laws 

 protect them all, save a few which do 

 great injury. They are God's gift to man, 

 a gift that we should treasure — frail crea- 





