224 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct. 10, 1889. 



OUT-OF-DOOR PAPERS. 



I.— IN A GARDEN. 



LIFE first began, the record tells us, in a garden, and 

 ever since, gardens have had a charm for humans. 

 A town garden is an especial delight, affording rest in 

 the midst of restlessness, and being the fairest resort in 

 all the world for birds. My Lord St. Albans setteth out 

 the. requirements of a garden in what shape it seemeth to 

 Mm most pleasurable, and he fails not to instruct us that 

 it should be some green, some heath, and some devoted 

 to both flowers and fruits. Such an one is surely most 

 pleasing to the birds, which being small themselves, 

 usually enjoy the world in parvo, and like not to seek 

 far for their variety. If now there be provided for them 

 iii the space of a quarter acre, both trees and shrubs, in 

 due proportion with flowers and waste ground, the owner 

 may become a White of Selborne, if he only will, and 

 write an edifying book on what he sees from his window. 



First, if it is an ideal garden — and all my ideal gardens 

 are modeled after one which existed so long since Queen 

 Anne's day, that I can remember it distinctly— there 

 must be berry-yielding shrubbery and small fruits, apple 

 and plum trees, not too trim to afford a supply of worms 

 and insects, strawberries for the robins, flowers for the 

 humming birds, shade trees for nesting, viburnum bushes 

 and mountain ashes to furnish food for the winter 

 comers, and in one corner a sheaf of weeds for the 

 finches to revel in. 



If such a garden lacks regularity and spruceness, are 

 these matters of importance, when every year the robin 

 turns mason there, and plasters an adobe hut in the 

 crotch of the maple tree; when later on the pewee sad- 

 dles her shallow nest on some convenient limb in the 

 leafy her mitage of the upper branches, and the yellow 

 warbler, in building her domicile, samples all the cot- 

 tony materials within reach— fern silk, urilkweed down, 

 thistle down, cotton grass threads, the wool of willow 

 catkins, even to robbing the cotton clothesline of all the 

 lint she can pull off; while, best of all, the dear old 

 "chippy" comes back year after year to build in the bush 

 honeysuckle a nest woven of roots and horsehair, as neat 

 and clean as herself; the bright-eyed, contented little 

 housekeeper that she is. No comer is as welcome as the 

 "chippy," who knows us all, and trusts us wholly. 



Of course, every spring there is the usual battle con- 

 cerning the ownership of the martin house over the way, 

 in which the purple martins send the English sparrows 

 packing with little ceremony, and verify the maxim that 

 possession is nine points in the law. Then follows much 

 twittering and talking over of plans on the part of the 

 victorious pair, who never fall out with each other, 

 although either would defy the world in arms — 



"The bravest are the tentferest. 

 The loving are the daring." 



And now the female flies back and forth, gathering 

 stra%vs for her nest. The strawberry bed, from which the 

 covering has now been removed, presents excellent "ter- 

 minal facilities," which she is not slow in perceiving. 

 Whether it is an individual peculiarity or a feature in 

 the domestic economy of the species is not for us to deter- 

 mine, but here at least the lady chooses her own straws, 

 and flies with them— two or three in a fagot held firmly 

 in her tiny bill — to her house, her spouse accompanying 

 her, himself unladen, but gallantly offering praise, 

 encouragement and protection. Considering the excel- 

 lent name which this couple bears, it is at least charita- 

 ble to suppose that the arrangement is mutually agree- 

 able, and that the lady prefers to see to the management 

 of her own affairs. 



On their first arrival the cherry or cedar buds are wel- 

 come, their trim figures and tailor-made clothes attract- 

 ing attention. Their voices, which are politely soft and 

 monotonous, and their limp way of sitting around doing- 

 nothing, would seem to indicate that they had been 

 •'fitted" to shine in bird society. Perhaps they do; but, 

 like many other brainless society lights, they soon wear 

 out their welcome, develop gourmandizing tendencies and 

 shameless impudence in helping themselves to what they 

 want. In cherry time they are insufferable, not only 

 stealing from you, but adding insult to injury by raising 

 their voices to inform you that you can't help yourself. 

 Earlier in the season they do eat canker worms, and in 

 the spring they have a pretty way of feeding each other 

 to any particular choice morsel. Even the bitter moun- 

 tain-ash becomes a pledge of affection; nor is this pretty 

 custom confined to mates alone, for Nuttall tells us that 

 an eye-witness assured him that "he has seen one, among 

 a row of these birds seated upon a branch, dart after an 

 insect, and offer it when caught to bis associate, who 

 very disinterestedly passed it to the next; and each de- 

 clining the offer the morsel has proceeded backward and 

 forward before it was appropriated." 



In the spring the juncos, or blue-backed snowbirds, 

 come in flocks, and are abundant for many days, flitting 

 about in the shrubbery, conspicuous by their parti-colored 

 tails, and their grasshopper-like w^ay of rising only when 

 forced to do so, and after a denii-fltght dropping to the 

 ground near at hand. At this time of the year they are 

 unusually busy, examining the frost-bleached patches of 

 chickweed, rustling through the dead pea vines and 

 shaking the dry stalks of the annuals in the flower gar- 

 den as they search for seeds. It is their Lenten season; 

 but although the fare must be scanty, they accept it with 

 pleasant chirrups and an attempt at" song. No bird seems 

 to enjoy a bath more, and even in chilly March mornings 

 they will dip and splash in any open pool, apparently 

 quite careless of taking cold or getting the rheumatism. 



The robins are there at all times. How they degener- 

 ate as the year rolls on, at least in our estimation. From 

 the glorious scarlet-breasted creature who sits high up 

 among the bare limbs in March and April, and pours out 

 rich full-throated music, to the midsummer poacher of 

 our choicest berries, with a faded cinnamon waistcoat 

 and an unmelodious voice, not inaptly called a "yaup," 

 •what a decline! Then, when the nests blossom with 

 golden mouths, what a quadrupling and quintupling of 

 this inharmonious aubacle, which, whether you rise with 

 the lark or not, makes you, perforce, wake with the 

 robin. And later the trials you have to undergo with 

 these same spotted-breasted changelings that make haste 

 to tumble out of the nest before they can fly, get horse- 



hairs down their throats and strings around their legs, 

 or sit yellow-mouthed and sleepy-eyed, happy in their 

 ignorance, in the most dangerous places, to whom you 

 have to be a beneficent Providence, rescuing them against 

 their wills from dangers they are unaware of— the cat, 

 the dog, the small boy, the "adversary" in all the various 

 forms under which he preys upon birds. 



It would take too long to mention all the pleasant ac- 

 quaintances one makes in a garden. They are so numer- 

 ous and so diversified— some, like the people you pass in 

 the street, whom you know only to nod to; others a lit- 

 tle better, yet not intimately known; some with whom 

 you may claim a calling acquaintance; others dear and 

 familiar friends, whose failure to return would be lamented 

 and whose presence never becomes wearisome. 



Life in a garden is, I suspect, for birds as well as men. 

 a sort of revival of the Eden experiment— delightful to 

 the imagination, but with serious drawbacks of a practi- 

 cal nature. The cares of housekeeping are no less there, 

 and as the year rolls on, the birds may be seen changed 

 from enraptured lovers into hard worked providers, and 

 scheming parents. Parental affection seems sometimes 

 to supplant all the other virtues; care induces nervous- 

 ness, and nervousness exhibits itself in a bad tempt r. 

 from which not even birds are exempt. Nor are the 

 birds without temptations. My currant bushes become a 

 tree of knowledge to them, where they learn good and 

 evil, and become initiated into the arts of dissimulation, 

 stoutly averring before the tell-tale juice is dried on their 

 beaks, that they never touched my currants. Ought I 

 to put such temptations in their way? Or ought I to 

 drive the birds Out? The latter, fortunately, cannot be 

 done. They will still rob me, and defy me, and dpniand 

 the whole for an imaginary tithe of worms, and I shall 

 allow it this year as heretofore. 



Fannie Pearson Hardy. 



THE HAWK AND THE SQUIRREL. 



DRIVING down the gentle slopes of Sonoma Mountain 

 yesterday — the mountain is 3,340ft. high— we ob- 

 served a very large hawk— the largest of the hawks, a 

 large brown-spotted fellow, perhaps rightly an eagle- 

 perched on the fence by the roadside. As we approached, 

 he flew quartering toward us, dove down at the foot of a 

 rocky hill and arose in the air carrying a full-grown gray 

 ground squirrel in his talons. This squirrel is nearly the 

 size of the timber gray squirrel of the East, and looks 

 very much like it, except t hat i t usually has several light- 

 colored bars on its sides, and old specimens are of a 

 lighter earthy gray. It lives in holes in the ground, usu- 

 ally in dry, rocky places. 



The hawk flew* about 50yds., when the squirrel reached 

 up and bit him on the leg. This squirrel has a very 

 tough hide, sharp, strong teeth, and is a fighter from 

 away back. The hawk at once released his talons, but 

 the squirrel hung on with his teeth quite a little time, 

 and then dropped to the ground and started for his rocky 

 home The hawk fle w do wn lOOy ds. further and alighted 

 on the fence. The squirrel was injured somewhar, but 

 made very good time back. The hawk waited until he 

 was within a few yards of home, when he darted for him 

 again and arose with him. This last flight of the hawk 

 showed with what wonderful velocity the great bird 

 could pass through the air. The hawk had flown only 

 two or three rods when the squirrel bit him again, and he 

 dropped it. The poor squirrel was now badly used up, 

 but he did his best to get under cover. The hawk again 

 perched on the fence. The squirrel had reached within 

 a few feet of its burrow when the hawk started for him 

 again. This time he seized the now well nigh helpless 

 squirrel securely with both feet and sat down on his 

 tail — the hawk's tail — stretched out his legs to their full- 

 est extent and stretched his head and neck away back 

 out of danger, and so held his victim until his struggles 

 were over, and then he flew up on an old tree to enjoy 

 his dinner; and the show was over. 



This gray ground squirrel is one of the very worst nuis- 

 ances of the foothills and dry plains, because* of his injury 

 to the farmer's crops. They have become so destructive 

 in places that farmers have had to organize and pass 

 stringent regtdations for their destruction. 1 have been 

 in places in Alameda county where it was not uncommon 

 to see a hundred of them in sight at once. They are very 

 swift of foot and usually run with their great bushy tail 

 erect. They look very pretty scudding across the smooth 

 sward. The California pocket gopher, a rat-like rodent 

 with a large pocket in each cheek, which lives entirely 

 under ground, on the roots of trees and plants, is often 

 fearfully destructive on trees and bulbs, and is a great 

 nuisance. It is ubiquitous everywhere, in hill, mountain 

 and valley, even in towns and cities. It is a very hard 

 critter to" dispose of. They often destroy fruit trees 

 several inches in diameter, and eat up crops of potatoes 

 and other tubers and bulbs. 



We have in these two rodents a good lesson in the 

 action of species upon other species. They were held in 

 check, before the State was settled, by the larger hawks, 

 eagles, coyotes and snakes; the gopher especially by the 

 gopher snake, a large, active, harmless constrictor 

 snake, like the bull snake and black snake of the 

 Eastern States. All of these creatures it was the first 

 hard work of the early settlers and all the settlers since 

 to kill at every opportunity, with the result that the 

 rodents have scarcely a natural enemy left, and nave 

 nothing to do in life but to grow fat and breed like rats 

 and mice, and they attend faithfully to business. Coyote 

 and man, it is true, could not get along very pleasantly 

 together, but the other enemies of these squirrels should 

 have been protected. 



A long, long time ago, in some unknown region, the 

 larger hawks, after destroying all their natural food — the 

 rodents — rather than starve caught and ate a measly 

 spring chicken; and at once the edict went forth to kill 

 every large hawk or eagle on sight. I wish that every 

 one would read the reports of the Ornithologist and Mam- 

 mologist of the U. S. Department of Agriculture, and 

 they would not be so fond of destroying hawks and owls. 

 Of 983 stomachs examined only 57 had fed on poultry, 

 and this mostly in old settled regions where poultry was 

 of all things the most plentiful and easiest food obtain- 

 able. The average man , woman and child will kill snakes 

 on sight, and I suppose there is little use in any one try- 

 ing to combat such a silly habit. There seems to be an 

 uncontrollable antipathy and enmity in mankind to all 

 snakes, be the majority of them ever so harmless and 

 useful. Because one small family of snakes, now very 



scarce in all the northern part of this continent, have a 

 dangerous bite, all the snakes must go. Nevertheless, 

 two or three large healthy gopher snakes to the acre in 

 this State left undisturbed would prove a grand blessing. 



Again the jack rabbit; the self same enemies held him 

 very carefully in check. Now, his enemies being gone, 

 he is having things very much his own way in the great 

 interior valleys. For a time he was "the boss." But by 

 making great "drives" of a township at a time, the jacks 

 can be driven into a pen like a flock of sheep, and thous- 

 ands of them killed at one fell swoop. I think this same 

 jack rabbit the most ridiculous looking an-i-mule on 

 earth, as he goes scudding over the plain with his small 

 head, immense ears, both erect, pressed close together 

 and pointed forward, and what little tail he has tucked 

 carefully between his hindlegs. He goes like the wind. 

 He can outrun the coyote in a fair race, but the little 

 wolf circumnavigates him and eventually brings him to 

 grief. But he cannot outrun the eagles and great hawks. 



Several letters have come here latelv addressed to 

 the postmaster, with the request to hand them to "Byrne." 

 This is unnecessary, for if they are simply addressed 

 "Byrne" I will get them. Tire sportsmen here are now 

 having lovely sport after deer and quail. A friend has 

 just come in from the Red Woods in the north part of 

 this county, where he and his chum bagged eight fine 

 deer in three days. He brought me a "hunk" of jerked 

 venison, which is tender and delicious. The coast or 

 red wood region of this county and to the north is cer- 

 I ainly as fine a place for the sportsman's autumn outing 

 with gun, rifle or line, as can be found on this earth. 

 Deer, bear, grouse, quail, squirrels and rabbits are more 

 than plenty; gamy mountain trout are in all the moun- 

 tain streams, and the climate is so perfect that one is at 

 home wherever his blankets are, with no storms or rain 

 to seek shelter from. I will be pleased to give sportsmen 

 any desired information about this or any other part of 

 the State. Byrne. 



Pf.taluma, California. 



RHINOCEROS HORNBiLL. 



V HIGHLY interesting and remarkable case of birds 

 has recently been put on exhibition in the National 

 Museum at Washington. The group represents a breed- 

 ing pair of Bornean rhinoceros hornbills (Buceros rhinoc- 

 eroides), and shows in addition to the birds themselves a 

 section of a large tree, in a cavity of which the female 

 has her nest. The female is on lier nest, with only the 

 tips of her bill exposed to view, having been plastered in 

 by the male, according to the universal and altogether, 

 peculiar habit of members of this family of birds. The 

 male is perched upon a branch slightly above the kvel 

 of the entrance to the nest and is in the attitude of reach- 

 ing down to the female with a fruit in his beak with 

 which to feed her. The accessories to the birds are made 

 in papier mache in very exact imitation of a forest tree 

 trunk with vines and foliage; and the group is upon the 

 whole a very striking and interesting one. The species 

 represented is with one exception perhaps the largest and 

 most conspicuous of the family. The specimens were 

 collected by the taxidermist, Mr. Chas. F. Adams, of 

 Champaign, Illinois, who designed and prepared the 

 group, and who on account of his familiarity with their 

 native haunts is especially well qualified to transfer from 

 the wilderness to the museum one of the most remark- 

 able scenes in the domestic affair* of wild nature known 

 upon the earth. As stated above this remarkable habit 

 is entirely peculiar to the hornbills. The reason for it is 

 not certainly known; soine observers state that the plas- 

 tering is done by the male, others maintain that the 

 female incarcerates herself. If the male does it, his 

 object is doubtless to prevent the female from leaving 

 her nest before the eggs are hatched. If the female does 

 it, it is probable that protection from enemies is her ob- 

 ject. The female is fed by her mate during her incarcer- 

 ation, and should anything happen to him during her 

 imprisonment her life would necessarily be sacririe. <i. 



A Skunk in the Trail.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 Mr. Hough's recent account of a family of "Skunks on 

 Dress Parade" reminds me of a meeting with one of these 

 loud-breathed varmints I met in the Big Hole Basin, 

 Montana, last fall. I was riding a sleepy" little cavuse 

 through a creek bottom in the foothills, when I saw a 

 skunk in the trail about aOyds. ahead. I supposed the 

 cayuse saw him too and paid no attention to him. It 

 seems, however, that lie had not, for when we came 

 within about 4ft. of the skunk, he suddenly realized that 

 we were there, got his back up like an indignant Maria 

 cat, whisked his big bushy tail up over spine and the 

 cayuse made one of the allfiredest jumps that ever a 

 scared horse made, I reckon. He went about 20ft. 

 square sideways, and when ho did strike the earth he 

 drove my spine clear up into my hat. Fortunately I was 

 prepared for some little disturbance and had a good seat, 

 so he didn't get out from under me, but after that when 

 I saw a skunk ahead of me I always rode round through 

 the next school district that the cavuse might not see 

 him.— G-. 0. Shields. 



Birds of Plume.— According to the Mobile Register, 

 Emile Scheuermann of that city has since June 1 shipped 

 10,000 terns and other birds of plume to the New York 

 markets. They were killed on Sand and Pettibois islands. 

 Commenting on the bird plume industry the Southern 

 Lumberman, of Oct. 1 says: "There is one flourishing 

 Southern industry that is not at all pleasant to contem- 

 plate. We allude to the indiscriminate slaughter of birds 

 for their plumage. But it is the decree of fashion— the 

 crnelest and most senseless of tyrants, a tyrant that 

 drives its votaries to some curiously inconsistent acts. 

 They kneel with devout fervor at the throne of divine 

 mercy, solicit with charming eloquence funds to educate, 

 civilize and Christianize the benighted heathen of foreign 

 lands, carry flowers and gushing sympathy to the cells 

 of the most infamous and atrocious criminal in the jails, 

 and offer money inducements for the cold-blooded 

 slaughter of the few plumage birds that remain on this 

 continent." 



Homing Swallows.— Considerable success has attended 

 experiments at the Paris Exposition with swallows as sub- 

 stitutes for homing pigeons. The originator of the idea, 

 one M. Desbouverie, of Roubaix, sent up two young swal- 

 lows about two months old from a pavilion on the Espla- 

 nade, which arrived at their distant aviary in an hour and 

 a quarter. 



