140 



RECREATION, 



try, and there were left behind only^a few 

 of the hardier winter species, such as the 

 jays, woodpeckers and chickadees. Even 

 the Omnipresent and impudent English 

 sparrows seemed to keep unusually silent 

 and fought shy of the cold winter blasts 

 which swept the snow-laden earth. 



Shortly after the opening of the New 

 Year I chanced to be passing over a bridge 

 which spanned a small river near the town. 

 There I first met my lone fisherman. The 

 day was bitterly cold. The wind was fierce 

 and a driving sleet was falling. Suddenly, 

 above the whistle of the wind, I heard a 

 hoarse rattle. The sound was strangely 

 familiar, yet I could not for the instant 

 recall it. I heard it again, looked in the di- 

 rection whence it came and the mystery 

 was solved. 



Perched on a high telephone wire, which 

 was strung across the river, was the blunt, 

 top heavy and peculiarly shaped bird which 





x 



frequents our streams in early spring and 

 summer. Surely it was our old friend, 

 the belted kingfisher; but what was he do- 

 ing here to-day? What strange fancy had 

 •led him to remain at the frozen North, 

 while his fellows were luxuriating in the 

 sunny South ? Where could he find the 

 fish with which to sustain life when the 

 river was frozen over with ice a foot thick? 

 My last question was soon answered. 



Under the bridge was a dam, which had 

 been built to furnish water power for a 

 mill, and the action of the water in running 

 over this dam prevented a small place be- 

 low from freezing. Through this hole in 

 the ice must come a winter's store of pro- 

 visions for our kingfisher. I was rewarded 

 a moment later by seeing him swoop down 

 to the water with a heavy splash and bear 

 aloft a shining fish to his perch on the ice- 

 bound wires. 



I visited the spot' many times after that 

 and seldom failed to find him there. Day 



after day he sat on the wires, with his eye§ 

 fixed on that precious spot. During the 

 long, cold days that followed he remained 

 and seemed to thrive, though the wind 

 threatened often to dislodge him from his 

 precarious position. There is splendid 

 angling in that stream in the spring, but 

 during those days, when the mercury hov- 

 ered near the zero point, this bold bird was 

 the sole pursuer of the finny tribe. Spring 

 came at last and he was then joined by his 

 relatives from the South. Later he be- 

 came engaged in the respectable duties of 

 providing for a family. Though none can 

 tell what prompted him to remain North, 

 yet who can help admiring his brave and 

 •patient spirit? 



TAMING A WILD RABBIT. 



Around my suburban home lives a re- 

 markable rabbit. We saw him first in 

 June. He was about half grown, and the 

 children caught him and put him in a little 

 house. The next morning he escaped, but 

 the experience did not induce him to quit 

 the neighborhood. A few days later we 

 saw him again, eating young white clover 

 on a recently seeded lawn. When he was 

 approached he ran under the front porch. 

 I determined to see if I could not tame him. 

 After several attempts I succeeded in ap- 

 proaching him with some willow brush, 

 which he ate with evident relish. Some 

 days later I offered him bread, which he 

 also seemed to relish. About the first of 

 July he was sufficiently tame so he allowed 

 himself to be approached, and would sniff 

 at any morsel that might be taken him. 

 After several futile attempts I succeeded 

 in getting a good photograph of him at a 

 distance of 7 or 8 feet. Late, last fall he 

 was plump and fat and a little larger than 

 the average cottontail. I had thought him 

 a full blooded wild cottontail, such as are 

 numerous in the suburbs, but by fall he was 

 so tame that I could examine him closely. 

 He has a white mark on his nose. His left 

 foot is white, and there is a little white 

 on the edge of his ears ; also a fairly large 

 white mark on his breast, which, however, 

 does not show except when, rarely, he sits 

 up on his haunches. 



During the winter we did not see him, 

 and for a while I was afraid he had fallen 

 a prey to some rabbit catchers that I had 

 seen, or that a dog had found him napping ; 

 but after some time I noticed his footprints 

 leading under my front porch. Sometimes 

 I find him under the porch at dusk, when 

 he will come if I call him. Then he will 

 disappear for 2 or 3 days and again reap- 

 pear. He is now so tame that he can be in- 

 duced to come up 5 or 6 steps on the 

 kitchen porch for a meal of dry coffee 

 cake, showing great fondness for the sugar 

 on it. Once while he was eating, a dog 



