104 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



f Maech 5, 1885. 



latter belongs to a remarkable family, the UropeMdm, which 

 have the appearance of being chopped clean in halves, so 

 abruptly does the body terminate. But the truncated end 

 is protected by the round dish or shield, which probably is 

 of use to the snake to press against the earth in burrowing. 

 This is one of the smooth, cylindrical forms as is also the 

 Cyliialroplm in a remarkable degree. 



The pointed tails of some of the burrowing snakes turn 

 strongly downward, and must also be a useful agent in sup- 

 porting and steadying them in their underground work. 

 These homy tips are the offending "stings" of ignorant ages, 

 supposed to inflict injuries both to animals and vegetables. 

 There are those, even at the present day, who believe that 

 feeble little snakes can kill trees with these terrific weapons, 

 and few persons will have the courage to handle one with a 

 supposed "sting." The timid reptiles, with their smooth, 

 polished scales,"are unable to cling, as can the larger snakes 

 which have ventral plates, and they instinctively press their 

 tails against any surface to assist their movements. The 

 quickness of their actions may have the appearance of anger, 

 but they have neither power nor intention to injure, and use 

 their tails in their own service only. 



Most of the burrowing snakes progress with equality facil- 

 ity both forward and backward, an abihty which, as in the 

 AmpMsbmna (going both ways) and some others, with the 

 cylindrical form, and blunt, inconspicuous head, has gained 

 them the name of "double-headed" snakes. Certainly it is 

 somewhat difficult to distinguish head from tail in some of 

 them. But in all these singular features we see an adapta- 

 tion of form to habit. Large eyes, rough scales, angular 

 bodies, and long, feeble tails, would ill serve burrowers that 

 iu their narrow path, or when peeping forth only to espy an 

 enemy above ground, must in self-preservation retreat pre- 

 cipitately while unable to turn. And swiftly they do recede 

 in their subterranean labyrinths, notwithstanding. 



Prof. Cope places Rhineiira flaridana under the head of 

 Laceriilia as one of the OpMosaurians, snake-lizards, and 

 akin to the Amplmbmias, which proves it without doubt to 

 be a relative of our English "blind worm." But unlike the 

 true blind worms (TypMopidm), Anguis frngilis possesses 

 bright little eyes of which it makes excellent use when above 

 ground, as it often is. How its reputed blindness gained 

 belief it is hard to surmise, unless from the fact that "slow 

 worms" are often found hybernating Id great numbers, with 

 their eyes tightly closed and the places of them barely dis- 

 tinguishable, This ability to close the eyes, which the true 

 snakes can never do, and "the possession of eyelids, is one of 

 the means of distinguishing the lizard-snakes from the true 

 ophidians. They have also a small, non- extensible mouth, 

 no palate teeth, and scales alike all round, instead of ventral 

 scuta;. When Mr. Horsford gives us the result of those 

 more minute investigations, which he was intending to 

 make, he will be able to tell us if he ever discovered any 

 vestige of sternum in the skeleton; for that his "ground 

 worm" was not without ribs and vertebrae we may confi- 

 dently decide. The progression of these little burrowing 

 snakes is one of the most marvelous and mysterious of ser- 

 pentine achievements. That they use their ribs in progres- 

 sion, as the true snakes do, we need not doubt. But we 

 cannot distinguish the action of the extremely fine ribs under 

 the skin as we can in snakes, moving in a succession of 

 waives, like the feet of ceutipedes, and carrying with them 

 the ventral scale to which each pair of ribs is attached. In 

 the smooth lizard-snakes (truly limbless lizards) the progres- 

 sion is a glissant, gliding, graceful movement, without any 

 apparent agent. The numbers of pairs of ribs iu snakes are 

 easily counted, and are always counted in classification one* 

 pair to each ventral plate; but I am not aware that the ribs 

 of a slow worm have ever been counted, or that it and its 

 congeners have received any very flattering attention from 

 snake observers. They are not unworthy objects of study 

 nevertheless. 



On first reading of the American ground worm in Foeest 

 and Stream, 1 repaired to the zoological gardens to see if 

 its representatives were in our herpetarium. The smallest 

 snake then living in the collection was an TTngalia macuiata, 

 from the Bahamas, eight or nine inches long, and a true 

 ophidian. It had not been there long enough for the keeper 

 to know much about it, and it soon died. But there is now 

 another and much larger snake, known in India as the 

 "worm snake." It is Grongylaplm conicus, the conical snake, 

 the generic name signifying cylindrical, but with a blunt and 

 somewhat pointed or conical head. Singularly, this is not- 

 only a burrower but a constrictor, thus uniting two very 

 opposite characters. The head keeper, who may be relied 

 upon as au intelligent observer, says that it remains buried 

 in the shingle with only its head peeping out, watching for 

 prey, and that when a mouse runs by the snake in an instant 

 darts from its lair and has the little quadruped iu its coils. 

 It there retains it firmly until dead, when it is eaten exactly 

 as other constrictors swallow their food. At present I have 

 been unable to watch the process, and can see only the head 

 constantly peeping up; but when bright skies again permit 

 of observations, I shall hope to verify this extraordinary 

 habit. 



Most resembling the description of your worm snakes is a 

 small Amphisbama with a very worm-like aspect indeed, and 

 about seven inches long. This is a true burrower, and while 

 in my hand it displayed its natural instincts by restlessly en- 

 deavoring to push its way through my glove or between the 

 fingers and get out of sight. It has been sharing a cage with 

 some green tree frogs, and the other day it was missing and 

 could nowhere be found. The earth, moss, sand, and every 

 corner of the cage was ransacked in vain, and the melan- 

 choly conclusion was arrived at that one of the frogs had 

 made a meal of it. Besolved to "leave no stone unturned," 

 a literal act in this case, the keeper carefully examined the 

 mould in a pot containing an evergreen for the accommoda- 

 tion of the tree frogs. The pot was sunk in a well to the 

 level of the floor of the cage, and there, at the very bottom 

 of the pot, little AmpMsbcena had hidden itself. After this 

 insight into "its tricks and its manners," the keeper placed 

 it by itself in a box of earth— the stiff clay of the locality— 

 and in a few days, when he was transferring it to a better 

 box and some softer mould, he saw that a great engineering 

 work had been accomplished in that short time. The little 

 creature no bigger than a worm, and apparently with no 

 more backbone than a worm, had tunneled through the stiff 

 clay and made long serpentine subterranean paths in various 

 directions, through which it could glide forward or back- 

 ward at will. In an eiglit-inch box there was at least two 

 feet of tunneling. Now we see the meaning of "running 

 under-ground;" and probably if the haunts of the little 

 American "worm snakes" could be carefully examined, other 

 engineering feats would be revealed, and I would earnestly 

 invite such observations, as also such information as may be 

 obtained thereby. 



Naturally the chief food of these reptiles is to be found 

 underground; worms, grubs, the larvae of insects, ant's eggs, 

 etc. Some of the burrowing snakes subsist wholly on ant's 

 eggs, and lay their own eggs in the nest of the ant, their 

 cuirass of hard, polished, close-set scales protecting them 

 from the insects, while the young ones are hatched in the 

 midst of plenty. Harmless and useful little reptiles, doing 

 their part in clearing the ground of injurious insects; let us 

 hear more about them. Cathe'bxne C. Hopley, 



Author of "Curiosities of Serpent Life," etc. 



London, England. 



THE BIRDS OF MICHIGAN. 



BY DR. MOBEIS GTBBS. 



(Continued.) 



16. Pants atricrvpilhis Linn. Black-capped chickadee; 

 titmouse. 



This well-known bird is familiar to all. Almost every 

 child is acquainted with its interesting movements and the 

 characteristic notes, which uttered so plainly, give it its 

 name. From the Sault Ste. Marie to our southern boundary 

 the chickadee is recorded by col lectors, Abundant through- 

 out the year, hardy and of pleasing address, the black- 

 capped titmouse, as it is often called, is welcome everywhere 

 and is a favorite with all. 



I have yet to visit a locality in summer or winter, where 

 the little fellows were not present. Often in severe weather 

 they withdraw to the deepest recesses of dense forests or 

 conceal themselves in the thick hedges and evergreens of the 

 city, but a careful search will almost invariably reveal the 

 presence of the sharp-eyed midgets. It is quite probable 

 that the birds of this species which appear so tame and to 

 all appearance much at home in our dooryards during winter 

 are from the north, while the summer residents of the past 

 season are iu Indiana and Ohio or even further south. The 

 question regarding the so-called residents, winter residents, 

 and migrants remains in many cases yet to be solved, and it 

 may be perhaps doubted if there arc over ten permanent resi- 

 dents in any one county in our own State. 



As our knowledge of the various species increases, it will 

 be found I do not hesitate to assert that but few birds are actu- 

 ally permanently located. There is also reason to believe 

 that very few of the so-called Michigan transients pass en- 

 tirely through the State, and many species generally thought, 

 to nest in the far north, in all probability remain in our 

 northern counties during the summer months. Tt is hardly 

 in place to consider the problem of migration as a general 

 theme while writing of the chickadee, but as there will per- 

 haps be no better opportunity in this series of articles, a 

 few lines may not come amis3 on the subject. It is our 

 opinion founded on close observation, that but very few 

 species will be found to come within the category of actual 

 residents. Many species there are; as the chickadee, nut- 

 hatchers, downy and hairy woodpecker and others usually 

 counted as residents, which are, however, not so. The 

 birds, although fouud in our State throughout the year gen- 

 erally, are absolutely migrants nevertheless, and few, if any, 

 of those breeding south of 44° lat. winter within our bound- 

 aries. The turkey, ruffed grouse, great horned owl and a 

 few others are our only actual residents, and even these are 

 often extremely erratic in movement. 



We may safely say that at best the migration of all of our 

 birds is but little understood, and as regards the movements 

 of the so-called residents we are almost absolutely ignorant. 

 However, to return to the subject, the chickadees are found 

 throughout the year in many parts of the Lower Peninsula 

 and appear always at home. 



The habits of this species are extremely interesting, and 

 to those interested in our birds the peculiarities of this lively 

 titmouse are an unending source of pleasure and study. Our 

 friend is a veritable acrobat. He will hang head downward 

 while in search of food or inspecting our movements, and 

 will return to an upright posture by apparently the slightest 

 effort. He rolls and circles around a limb much more easily 

 than the most accomplished performer on the horizontal bar, 

 and infinitely quicker. The blackcap's movements are viva- 

 cious and erratic. It is impossible for us to tell what our 

 agile friend will do next as we watch his movements; skip- 

 ping from twig to twig, now clinging to the bark of the 

 trunk of a tree, again dangling head downward at the ex- 

 tremity of a swaying branch, flitting from tree to tree, now 

 high in air, again amoog the bushes or on the ground at our 

 feet. In its gambols it is ever uttering its simple call notes of 

 two kinds, or giving us its name in clear, decisive tone, 

 chicJc-a-dee or cMck-a-dee-dee-dee<lee-dee. 



It also has a faint but agreeable whistle, which, though 

 not of the nature of a song, is nevertheless very musical. 

 This whistle is rarely uttered earlier than March 15 or later 

 than Oct. 1 in my experience, and is most constant during 

 the nesting season. It is evidently its love song. The notes 

 may be variously described as pee-weeeeeeee or iee-heeeeee, the 

 first note being about one-third or one-fourth as long as the 

 second, and pitched in a higher key, about three or four 

 notes in the scale. The song, if it may be called so, is quite 

 long drawn out, and is sometimes varied somewhat, it is 

 decidedly mournful iu sound and causes one to regret the 

 departure of the summer when heard in the quiet woods in 

 September. 



There is also a note or notes only uttered during the time 

 of nest building and rearing of young, and at the time of a 

 gathering of a group of these little birds. The notes tee tie 

 ■tee tie or leetle leetle leetle, are uttered in a half whining tone, 

 and are the first adopted by the young in their efforts at 

 mimicry of parental example. 



The nest and eggs are so well known that observations 

 would be out of place. A few remarks will be offered on 

 certain peculiarities in arrangement, mode of building, etc. 

 One nest found was placed in an excavation on the under 

 side of a fallen limb in a small oak woods. This was on June 

 29, 1872, a late date for the eggs of this species. One nest 

 was placed two feet from the ground in an old stump; exca- 

 vation eight inches deep. Six or seven eggs is the usual 

 number, but one nest contained eight fresh eggs. The spe- 

 cies rarely places its nest more than four feet from the 

 ground, and I have yet to meet with an excavation less than 

 eighteen inches above ground. 



In two instances I have had to remove the female by cut- 

 ting into the excavation and forcing her from the nest, blows 

 on the side of stump or the introduction of the finger into 

 the orifice being of no avail. In some cases I have met with 

 nests built in wood so soft that the surroundings could be 

 pulverized in the hands; and again, nests are found in very 

 hard wood, so hard that it is quite surprising that such 

 small birds could bore into it. Often nests are left when 

 half finished; in these instances, as a rule, the birds desert 

 the excavation because of the extreme hardness of the wood, 



which they probably did not expect when first boring into 

 the soft ex'terior of the dead limb or stump. Many nests are 

 built in a very shallow excavation just within the bark, and 

 in several instances I have opened them, and not finding the 

 complement of eggs, have replaced the bark and bound 'it on 

 with vines or string, and later on have secured the full set. 

 I have yet to meet with a nest built in live wood. 



17. Partis airicupillus septentrionalis (Harris) Allen — Long- 

 tailed chickadee. Entered on the authority of Dr. H. A. 

 Atkins, of Locke, who writes me that he captured it in Ing- 

 ham county, Mich. Not given by any other authority in the 

 State. 



18. Parm carolinentis Aud. — Carolina chickadee. Em- 

 braced by Dr. Miles, 1860; also by Dr. Atkins. A Southern 

 form rarely seen in the State. 



19. Par'us hudmiieus ~Forst.— Hudson! an chickadee. Em- 

 braced in Cabot's list of "Birds of Lake Superior,"-1850. 



Tlus completes the members of the family Partem. The 

 food of the chickadee is principally of an insect nature, and 

 though much vegetable matter is consumed by the birds in 

 the winter, as in the case of the brown creeper and nut- 

 hatches, still the food during the warmer months is composed 

 chiefly of insects. My judgment of the habits of the birds 

 in regard to food is not to be fully relied on, as my observa- 

 tions extend no further than the observations of the black- 

 capped chickadee, the other species being too rare to observe 

 during the various seasons. 



20. Mia caroUnensis. Gmel. White-bellied nuthatch. 

 This quaint, ever cheerful species is a resident in Michigan. 



In our cities and villages south of 43° the birds are seen in 

 greater abundance during winter than in summer, plainly 

 indicating that the most of the whitebellies are from the 

 north and not from the immediate vicinity. The species is 

 much more common during March, April, October and 

 November, which leads me "to think that a large portion 

 migrate each season, and the fact that during June few 

 specimens are seen in our southern counties is quite conclu- 

 sive evidence that many are transients as regards Southern 

 Michigan. Some winters very few birds are seen, again the 

 woods are full of them. 



Our little friend is an excellent weather prognosticator as 

 regards changes of temperature in winter. If severe weather 

 appears it is rare to see the nuthatch around in any numbers, 

 and they show their good sense in getting in out of the cold 

 as soon as a storm threatens. Where the little fellows go to 

 is as much a mystery as it is iu the case of the other species 

 found with us in the winter, On two occasions 1 have seen 

 the whitebelly emerge from a hole in a dead limb in winter, 

 and in one instance the space between the clapboards and 

 lath in a house was occupied. It is reasonable to suppose 

 that such situations are frequently occupied by many of the 

 smaller species of birds which are found with us in" winter. 

 During a light flurry of snow, when the temperature is not 

 below 20°, many nuthatches remain in sight and feed uncon- 

 cernedly with the creepers, but if a severe storm comes on, 

 not one is to be found. I feel confident from my own ob- 

 servations, and the fact has been mentioned by several 

 authorities, that the whitebelly stores up its little supply of 

 provisions for a snowy day. A bird may frequently be seen 

 working around a dead tree in which is concealed quite a 

 stock of nuthatch provender, and in one small stub which I 

 crushed to the ground, there were found large quantities of 

 small seeds and some acorns, undoubtedly cached there by 

 the colony of the little fellows which infested the place. 



If a thaw is about to take place, the birds report it in ad- 

 vance, generally from one to two days before it occurs, but 

 often quite a week before it fairly sets in. The thaw is 

 prophesied by them in an unusual effort in chattering. The 

 species is far from being gifted in a musical point of view, 

 but the notes, of three kinds, are always interesting to the 

 listener. The birds make a special effort in anticipation of 

 a thaw, and are quite noisy at times. That the species occa- 

 sionally errs in its judgment regarding the expected thaw is 

 certain; which, however, is not to be wondered at, when we 

 consider that our best so-called weather prophets are often, 

 even generally, mistaken in their prognostications. But such 

 mistakes seldom occur with the nuthatches, and in the 

 large majority of the cases when their notes are heard re- 

 peatedly during the day, a thaw may be looked for with 

 absolute certainty. 



During December last I noticed a number of birds actively 

 engaged in exploring the crevices in the bark of some city 

 trees, gables of houses, roofs of sheds, fences, etc., and all 

 were uttering their notes in the agreeable manner usual to 

 them. A thaw was little to be expected during such cold 

 weather, the mercury indicating 0, and during the week had 

 been as low as — 15°. Upon intimating to an acquaintance 

 that a thaw was about to occur, I was offered great odds to 

 the contrary, on this, to him, preposterous assertion. My 

 friend laughed and said that the chances for a thaw were 

 never as poor, considering the extreme, severe weather. It 

 continued cold for three days, and my belief in the proph- 

 esies of the nuthatches was somewhat shaken, when fain 

 began to fall, and in seven days from the time the birds 

 began to get noisy, we had lost our two feet of snow entirely, 

 and the ground was as bare as in summer. 



The nuthatches are very interesting birds, and with their 

 quaint ways are extremely attractive to those who delight in 

 the study of our feathered friends. In many respects they 

 differ from all other families, and are perhaps more nearly 

 allied to the titmice and creepers of any of our birds. 

 A pair of whitebellies can give no end of amusement to an 

 observer, and are incomparably superior as an attraction to 

 the poor caged parrot, around whose gilded house people 

 will stand in order to gaze on its absurd movements and 

 listen to its discordant articulations in imitation of a few 

 words. The antics of our active little friend are something 

 surprising, yet all of the peculiarities and comical actions 

 are presented evidently with the greatest gravity, and in no 

 way during his actions does he evidence his knowledge of 

 our presence, excepting by an occasional side glance at the 

 observer and a few decisive notes, not, however, of alarm. 

 We pause in our walk in the city and watch a pah of these 

 birds, and within five miuutes they have assumed every con- 

 ceivable position possible for a bird to take; now on the 

 trunk of a tree head downward, the next moment on the 

 ground or the gate post, in another instant exploring the 

 shingles of the roof or the eaves, and creeping or flying to 

 the gable. It is safe to say that a nuthatch, when foraging 

 for food, is upside down quite one-quarter of the time, and 

 is rarely level in his perch, excepting when feeding on the 

 ground, which is not a rare occurrence. However, although 

 flying about in an apparently aimless manner, the erratic 

 little fellow is doing his best at filling his crop. Like all 

 other birds, he is nearly always hungry, and continues his 

 search for food no matter what the condition of his stom- 

 ach. If insects are scarce he searches perhaps moredili- 



