Characteristic Winter Scene in the Forest. 173 



his aching limbs after the heavy tramp on snow shoes now 

 and then for a few minutes to listen for the sound of the axe 

 or the notes of these birds, knowing full well that one or 

 other will bring him to the camp ; and the Indian, when he 

 has slain his moose and cut it up into convenient portions 

 capable of being easily transported on a hand-sleigh, has 

 scarcely well begun to flay his quarry before the cheuckish- 

 mink (the crossbill) and the umkenewee-cis (moose bird) gather 

 round him. Whether it be that feeding on such dainty food as 

 the hunter and woodsman afford them, they grow to eschew 

 the dry cones in winter altogether, it is a fact that after a heavy 

 fall of snow, when their usual feeding spots around the camp 

 are covered over, they repair to the door in flocks, and become 

 so tame that I have then actually fed them from my hand. 

 Pine cones and the dried seeds of such trees as the alder are 

 all the forest affords in midwinter, so that it is not im- 

 probable that this decided change of feeding has produced or 

 is producing changes in the organism of the species ; at all 

 events, we must allow that the camp feeding life is a very 

 decided change from that enjoyed by these birds when these 

 boundless forests were all their own. The desire for animal 

 food so conspicuous in the Canada jay or moose bird, may in 

 the absence of lumber camps in summer have led to its king- 

 fisher habit before noticed. It is strange how such herbivorous 

 birds as thrushes, etc., reared on flesh, get so fond of it that 

 they prefer animal to their natural food, and how salt, usually 

 fatal to such birds as hawks, should be especially liked by the 

 finches of -the wilderness.* 



No doubt many animals have become extinct from being un- 

 able to struggle against their foes. This I believe will be the 



* The caged individuals of the white-winged crossbills, although always 

 preferring hemp-seed to fir-cones, were fond of taking them up to their 

 perches ; and I have seen individuals in spring, after feeding on the tender 

 buds of the larch, betake to the withered catkins, perhaps as much for 

 variety as anything else. 



