THE REFERENDUM 



475 



you will watch rats and mice very closely 

 sometime, you will find that they, too, are in 

 the same situation. 



The woodchuck, however, which belongs to 

 the same family (rodent) as that of the rab- 

 bit, has very acute sight and hearing, as 

 every farmer's boy knows who has tried to 

 shoot one. 



The woodchuck's note of warning is a 

 short whistle when in a company, but when 

 alone he disappears as speedily and noiseless- 

 ly as possible. 



Some of the larger animals also have in- 

 teresting habits of giving an alarni to pro- 

 tect those in their company. The prong- 

 horned antelope of the plains is very inquisi- 

 tive, and has a habit of venturing quite near 

 anything odd or unusual. 



When he is suspicious of danger, he erects 

 the stiff hairs which form a light-colored 

 patch about his tail, and this glistens in the 

 sunlight, thus giving a noiseless, heliographic 

 signal to the whole band, whose eyes and ears 

 are ever on the alert for danger. 



The bulls of buffalo and wild cattle usu- 

 ally outskirt the herd, and when the cows 

 hear their "snort," a general closing in move- 

 ment is inaugurated, and a living "corral" is 

 formed, surrounded by a staunch stockade of 

 bulls, like great posts of oak, which makes 

 the venturesome grizzly bear decide to select 

 a more favorable occasion. 



Some other animals, as the wolf and coy- 

 ote, although gregarious, are too stupid to 

 adopt any such means of protection, and only 

 see to it that number one is safe and sound 

 out of harm's way. 



Still others, going in herds or bands, as 

 horses, zebras and quaggas, have a leader 

 that they make a point of keeping a sharp 

 watch on. When the leader neighs, throws 

 up his head and starts off on a gallop, the 

 whole band moves as one body in his direc- 

 tion. 



The crow's custom of posting one or more 

 sentinels on some conspicuous, high branch 

 is well known. I remember so$ie years ago 

 when up in Rhode Island on a vacation, an 

 old hunter said he would give me fifty cents 

 for every crow I would shoot with the little 

 Remington rifle I had. Partly to show him 

 that I could do such a thing, and partly to 

 satisfy my love of the woods and shooting 

 (even at a nail head), and also to show 

 • the crows that I could get ahead of them, 

 I set out into the woods where they were 

 making their "caws heard." 



When in the woods I used one tree after 

 another for shelter, till I came in their vicin- 

 ity. Then I squatted down to listen, back 

 of an old tree-trunk which was well over- 

 grown with tall ferns, and I plainly heard 

 several crows conversing in rather subdued 

 tones. I hoped none had spied me yet, Pres- 



ently one flew nearly over me, up above the 

 tree tops, and I crawled around the stump, 

 pushing my head and shoulders deeper into 

 the ferns, so as to escape his sharp sight. As 

 he gave no "caw ! caw ! caw !" after passing, I 

 knew he had failed to notice me. To go 

 nearer where I heard them would be sure 

 death to my project, as there was little cover 

 between their trees and the one where I was. 

 As my squatting position was becoming any- 

 thing but comfortable, and, too, the mos- 

 quitoes were torturing me by filling my 

 hands, neck and ears with malaria, I suppose, 

 I stood up for a minute to get a change of 

 position, and that minute a sly sentinel had 

 spied me. As he softly swooped down from 

 a branch near where I had been so well hid- 

 den he gave an alarm which told his fellows 

 that that locality was not a safe place to pic- 

 nic in. 



That settled it. I had no chance after that, 

 so I withdrew, rubbing my mosquito bites, 

 to await another time. 



Some days afterwards I heard the crows 

 near the same place, and putting on a pair of 

 gloves, buttoning up my black coat-collar 

 close around my neck, and pulling my felt 

 hat down over my ears, I got into the thick 

 brush undiscovered and — unstung. After 

 carefully decking my hat and neck with 

 ferns, I looked like a movable fern-bush, and 

 with this decoration I crawled along very 

 slowly by an old stone wall. 



I soon heard the crows not far away and 

 did some more crawling, reaching an old tree 

 behind which I slowly stood up for a peek. 

 My black friends were not far away, by the 

 sound, but I could see nothing of them. 



As I changed from one foot to another for 

 a rest, a "sentinel" flew down and lit on an 

 old fence not fifty feet from me. I heard 

 him talking to himself and getting ready for 

 a dip in the little brook, which ran near the 

 fence. The next moment I was eyeing him 

 over the sights of my rifle, and its crack 

 saved him from giving an alarm to his com- 

 pany. 



He never knew what struck him, and as I 

 carried his wings into the house I said, "Now 

 do you believe I can shoot a crow with a 

 rifle?" The old hunter laughed, and the 

 wings were used, I believe, for kitchen 

 brushes. 



I will say right here, however, that the 

 more one studies these wild creatures of the 

 woods, the more respect and admiration one 

 has for their craftiness, cunning and wis- 

 dom. 



It requires much more skill, patience and 

 perseverance to shoot them with the camera, 

 than with gun or rifle, and the results are 

 far more enjoyable to retain in the memory. 



How dreary and vacant the woods seem ■ 

 when no squirrel is heard cracking his acorns. 



