FORESTRY. 



65 



in a small lake. Obviously, in a small pre- 

 serve, the balance of life could not be pre- 

 served as in a great wilderness. Army 

 worms, gypsy moths, and their ilk, could 

 not be given benefit of sanctuary, and 

 most farmers would require that coyotes, 

 foxes and such "varmints" be refused. 

 Along this line a sort of compromise 

 would be necessary, and perhaps the only 

 way to effectively meet the difficulty would 

 be to place each sanctuary in charge of a 

 forester, or keeper. This forester should 

 not be a rough, coarse specimen, a police 

 guardian merely, but a man of gentle 

 character, fond of animals and wild life, 

 sympathetic to the artistic possibilities of 

 the primitive and sufficiently educated by 

 observation and study to name and explain 

 to visitors the various animals, flowers, 

 rocks and trees they might be curious 

 about. He should be firm and vigilant, but 

 a gentleman. Necessarily he should be a 

 good shot and a skilled trapper, able to re- 

 move undesired animals without frighten- 

 ing the others. Such a keeper would be 

 an absolute necessity to prevent poaching, 

 intrusion of dogs, cats, stone throwing 

 boys, flower thieves, bark thieves, rock 

 painters and the like vandals. He could 

 be domiciled in a little house of logs or 

 stones in the middle of his domain, a house 

 made as much like its wild surroundings 

 as possible. 



The position of forester would be an 

 ideal one for a naturalist, especially if his 

 tastes were literary or his health delicate. 

 To this man's judgment could be safely 

 left the task of keeping a wise balance of 

 life in his little world, preventing any one 

 species from extirpating another or be- 

 coming a nuisance to the public. He 

 might properly be required to keep a jour- 

 nal of observations on the weather, the 

 habits of animals, etc., which would be 

 valuable as a book of reference. His 

 value as an experienced teacher to visitors 

 and students should be great, too. 



The sanctuary should be open to all 

 well behaved visitors, at all hours; but 

 these should not be allowed to take into 

 the park dogs, firearms, axes, traps, or 

 other instruments likely to violate the 

 sanctuary. They should not be allowed 

 to deface or injure, or make frightening 

 noises, remove anything, or to leave lunch 

 baskets, boxes, paper, bottles, or such rub- 

 bish. Perhaps the best way to secure 

 these ends would be to require each 

 would-be visitor to get permission from 

 the forester, giving promise to respect in 

 all things the objects of the sanctuary. 

 To save repetition, the forester could have 

 them sign name and address in a book, 

 under a printed pledge, and then give each 

 a badge to be worn conspicuously when- 

 ever in the sanctuary; permission and 



badge to be recalled from anyone guilty of 

 violation. 



In one important respect the letter of the 

 sanctuary might be broken in the interest 

 of its spirit. Those who have observed 

 nature, or read Wilson Flagg, know that 

 all small birds and quadrupeds prefer a 

 jungle, or tangled thicket, such as coun- 

 try roadsides show, to a great forest to 

 breed in. Yet, if left to itself, the sanc- 

 tuary would in the course of half a cen- 

 tury have only majestic trees, with little 

 underbrush or cover for the shy and timid 

 nesters. To obviate this, I would advise 

 that a strip of perhaps 2 rods' width, about 

 the borders of the sanctuary, be made into 

 and kept a thicket. This could be easily 

 done by partly severing the trunks of the 

 larger trees every 5 years or so, and bend- 

 ing down and pleaching the tops. The 

 admission of light would cause an imme- 

 diate junglelike growth of weeds, briars, 

 sprouts and vines, mingling with the 

 plashed tops, till nearly or quite impassable 

 to man and the larger animals. This 

 would quickly become the chosen and true 

 home of most of the smaller creatures in 

 the sanctuary, especially the birds. In the 

 breeding season it would swarm with life 

 and ring with music. Possibly, for the 

 shyer birds, one or more such jungles 

 might be profitably made in the interior. 

 Most of the minor plants and wild flowers 

 would thrive better in these thickets, too, 

 than under the great trees ; and where only 

 a small sanctuary could be afforded it 

 might be better to make the greater part 

 of it of this character. 



This surrounding jungle hedge would 

 serve several other ends, also. It would 

 attract birds, rabbits, etc., from the outside 

 world, repel pursuing dogs, help to keep 

 out horses, cows and such grazing beasts, 

 and keep out the vision of the outer civil- 

 ization from the nature-seeker wandering 

 within. In stony countries the farmers 

 living about the sanctuary would esteem it 

 a privilege to be allowed to throw the 

 stones from the clearing of their lands into 

 this hedge, and might be encouraged to do 

 so, as these stone heaps would be ideal 

 castles of refuge for woodchucks, rabbits, 

 chipmunks, red squirrels, mice, snakes, and 

 such small fry. 



Birds and small mammals might be en- 

 couraged, if necessary, by judicious doles 

 of grain, nuts and seeds ; especially if the 

 natural supply were lacking, in times of 

 terrible cold or after severe winter storms. 



It would be well, too, to surround the 

 sanctuary with a close wire fence to ex- 

 clude dogs and grazing animals. 



Animals once resident in the neighbor- 

 hood, but now extinct, or practically so, 

 might be reintroduced, as raccoons, wood- 

 chucks, wild turkeys ; and a few deer 



