382 



RECREATION. 



almost any intervening bark and wood 

 to reach them. Some species eat ants and 

 crickets, and often disappoint the ento- 

 mologist by opening the cases of chrysa- 

 lids and drawing out their contents. Many 

 a time have I struggled through a. tangled 

 mass of osier or cat brier for a promising 

 cocoon, only to find that the enterprising 

 woodpecker had been ahead of me. 



The white, wax-coated fruit of the bay- 

 berry, or Myrica cerifera, is the favorite 

 food of the yellowrump, or myrtle bird; 

 and wherever there is an abundant crop of 

 those berries there the myrtle birds may 

 be found in great abundance. The myrtle 

 bird is the only one of the large tribe of 

 warblers that can endure the cold of our 

 winters. 



The others of this numerous family wend 

 their flight Southward early in the season, 

 and many cross the Gulf, going as far be- 

 yond the equator as the Argentine Repub- 

 lic. With the exception of kinglets and 

 humming birds, these are the smallest of 

 our birds. Think of those tiny, slender 

 wings crossing that vast extent of country 

 twice a year! 



The myrtle bird, however, defies the cold 

 of a Northern winter, trusting to the bay- 

 berries, which furnished another hardy set 

 of adventurers on these harsh shores with 

 a light to cheer the cold gloom of a New 

 England winter. In the days of the Puri- 

 tan the wax-coated fruit of the bayberry 

 was gathered and boiled in water. The 

 wax was then skimmed off and run into 

 candles. These must have burned like in- 

 cense, as every part of the bush is aro- 

 matic. 



When the snows lie deep and heavy on 

 the fields, the weeds and grasses hold 

 above them an abundance of food for the 

 seed eaters. One of the pleasant sights in 

 winter is the imprint of many little feet 

 among the scattered seeds beneath these 

 clumps. The bird-lover feels glad when 

 he sees these signs that for one more 

 morning at least the hunger of the birds 

 has been satisfied. Few things are more 

 appealing than the trust of a bird for the 

 continuance of its food. One winter, dur- 

 ing a cold and driving storm, the hunger- 

 driven birds overcame their timidity suf- 

 ficiently to come in at the open kitchen 

 door for the food which we scattered near 

 the threshold, and after satisfying their 

 need they flew away to some unknown 

 shelter. The next morning we arose con- 

 siderably later, and on the freshly fallen 

 snow of the porch was evidence that the 

 birds had come again seeking food. They 

 had alighted on the steps, hopped along 

 half the length of the porch, and the 

 trampled footmarks at the kitchen door 

 showed they had waited patiently for some 

 time, expecting it to open. It has been 

 my custom for several winters to hang up 



bones and bits of gristly meat in some 

 trees before my window to attract the 

 birds. I am rewarded by the sight of 

 woodpeckers, nuthatches, chickadees, and 

 brown creepers coming almost daily to 

 nibble on these tidbits. 



Toward the end of February, the food 

 supply of the birds is greatly diminished 

 and the demand increased by the first arri- 

 vals from the advance rank of the spring 

 migration. Then if a heavy fall of snow 

 occurs, ending in what may be called a 

 glacial period for their world, the birds 

 are in a sad plight. The insect eaters are 

 a little better off than the seed eaters, for 

 even with wet, clinging snows and ice- 

 incrusted forests one side of the trees is 

 usually exposed; but by this time most of 

 the seeds from weeds and grasses have 

 been beaten to the ground by the fierce 

 winter storms and lie beyond reach until 

 a thaw uncovers them. At such times 

 very shy birds are sometimes driven by 

 hunger to seek refuge around barns and 

 dwellings. 



Two springs ago, after a late March 

 snowfall, a fox sparrow made a filibuster- 

 ing expedition among the English resi- 

 dents of my back dooryard. It is fre- 

 quently asserted that the English sparrow 

 will wage successful warfare on any of our 

 native birds; but the fox sparrow's visit 

 disproved it. The latter is a shy and re- 

 tiring bird, even in his native thickets, and 

 his stay with us in the spring is a brief 

 one of 2 or 3 weeks. When I first heard 

 his feeble "seep" in my garden, he was 

 sitting in a lilac bush, with drooping, 

 storm-worn plumage, in a dejected and 

 humble attitude. But never did prosper- 

 ity work a greater alteration of character. 

 He soon developed the most despotic man- 

 ners, and, finding the English sparrows 

 gave way to him, he allowed them to take 

 nothing he coveted. I could see, even by 

 the way he hopped, how his arrogance 

 grew daily. His poor subjects might well 

 have asked "Upon what meat does this, 

 our Caesar feed, that he hath grown so 

 great?" For a brief period he was an in- 

 teresting study, but with the melting snows 

 he vanished from sight, to resume, no 

 doubt, his onward journey to the summer 

 land of his desire. 



THE MUSKRAT DOES EAT MEAT. 



New York Zoological Park, N. Y. City. 

 Editor Recreation: 



In April Recreation, one C. W. Mor- 

 gareidge, of Wolf, Wyoming, severely crit- 

 icises Mr. Avon Woods, who made a few 

 truthful statements about muskrats. The 

 cutting remarks which Mr. M. uses are 

 more appropriate for himself. In fact, his 

 whole criticism is notable for the igno- 

 rance it shows. 



