MAiica 19, 1891.J 



FOREST AND ST^lEAM. 



167 



lasted five hours, but the perseverance of the swine and 

 the pei'severance of the fleas won the field. Imagine onr 

 surprise, however, when emerging from this den we found 

 that the clouds had broken away, the wind had stilled 

 and nearly a full moon was smiling down upon us. 



The ail' was full of water fowl seeking their feeding 

 grounds, for as is well known, they feed as readily by 

 moonlight as by daylight, particularty when they are 

 hunted a great deal. 



We came to a little round wapato lake, and the boom 

 of a gun away up the island suggested tha,t we might 

 mix a little fun with our night's wretchedness. So we 

 sat down on the bank of that little pond and potted about 

 two dozen mallards by moonlight. It is a reprehensible 

 practice, however, and should not be countenanced, for 

 ducks must have their feed and rest without molestation 

 or they will abandon the best of lakes. 



Next morning we found our way back to the ridge, 

 pulled the boat over into Little Sturgeon, paddled our 

 way to the head of the island, boarded a passing river 

 steamer, ate up everything eatable aboard except the 

 China cook, and in due course of time arrived home with 

 about eighty mallards. 



It must be that the mind cannot retain jjainful memor- 

 ies, or if it does it ignores them, for after years of hunt- 

 ing and angling with all their accompanymg hardships 

 and privations, to-ni^ht finds me loading shells and wish- 

 ing for bad weather just the same as of old. 



S. H. Green K. 



POBTLAKD, Oregon. 



DOVES NESTING IN TREES. 



IT seems strange that the mourning dove (Zenaidura 

 macroura) should ever attempt to nest in trees, seeing 

 the extreme labor such an undertaking entails upon her, 

 but the fact that she frequently does so remains and fur- 

 nishes food for refl.ection to the ornithologist. 



Every one is familiar with this bird's nest as found on 

 the ground, a shallow, carelessly-constructed afEair, with 

 the two snow-white eggs, over which the sleek owner 

 broods continually from the time the first is laid until the 

 two are hatched, not daring to come off except at dusk, 

 EO conspicuous are her treasures in their far-gleaming 

 whiteness. This is her natural nesting place. When the 

 time comes it is but little trouble for her to collect the 

 handful of dry weed-stems and straws upon which to de- 

 posit her eggs, and so perfectly does her gray-hued 

 plumage blend with the tints of the soil that they are 

 seldom discovered by man unless disclosed by her flight 

 therefrom. 



It is when this beautiful creature, whose name has be- 

 come with us a synonym for meekness and gentleness, 

 resolves to become "a scorner of the ground" that her 

 trouble begins. The interested observer finds himself at 

 a loss in his speculations for what he may deem sufficient 

 cause to justify all this extra labor. To be sure, the 

 ground-nesters are subject to a thousand perils that im- 

 mediately suggest themselves to the mind and furnish 

 apparently obvious reasons why this timid and gentle 

 bird should seek, in the selection of an unusual nesting 

 place, to avoid some of the dangers that threaten her eggs 

 and her young. But we commonly agree that birds 

 through all their changes have preserved the wisdom of 

 ancestral serpents entii-e, and I felt pretty certain one 

 May morning, when I discovered a dove preparing to 

 build in a winesap of my orchard, that this wisdom was 

 at fault. A little investigation, I said to myself, would 

 have proved that this leafy security of the grove is a mat- 

 ter of pm-e imagination. No shady deep suffices, no 

 triumph in the art of concealment avails to render the 

 successful rearing of a brood of young birds anything 

 less than a miracle, and as far as safety is an object she 

 might as well have trusted to mother earth and saved 

 herself trouble. I was, however, highly pleased to have 

 her meet this "sea of troubles" in my orchard. 



To one who, like myself, holds the study of birds his 

 chiefest recreation, and who has to contend with the 

 natural disadvantages of prairie location, it becomes a 

 matter of no small importance to detain among his wind- 

 swept groves such of his feathered friends as stray thither 

 from more congenial haunts. He must learn to regard a 

 nest as a thing almost too sacred to be looked at, much 

 less rifled of its contents; and the shells in. his shotgun 

 must be allowed to reach a green old age, whatever temp- 



relations, make propitiatory offerings in the shape of 

 boxes for bluebirds, wrens and martins, a festal board in 

 some retired nook whereon corn is to be spread for the 

 cardinal, and free baths at all hours for all comers. 



And after everything is done, the student of bird life 

 on the prairie will find that his work lies among the yoe- 

 manry of the feathered race— the robins, the brown 

 thrushes, the kingbirds and sparrows. The rarer song- 

 sters hold themselves aloof in the line of blue timber that 

 bounds his horizon, and whose sequestered, wing- 

 haunted shadows seem to him a very paradise. Even 

 from the great warbler clan — the Smith family among the 

 birds— the yellow warbler is generally the only one who 

 will accept his hospitalities and venture to swing his nest 

 among the uneasy treetops of the place. Perhaps once in 

 many years that inveterate little tree lover, the chicka- 

 dee, will espy a woodpecker's hole in one of his fence 

 posts, and, imable to resist it, be seen tearing the lint 

 from gunny sacks and stripping the fibrous bark from 

 weeds: and then our ornithologist, "too happy" at red 

 sunrise, will hear the fairyhke song of this little fellow, 

 and in due time be filled with a pleasant astonishment at 

 beholding a pint or so of nestlings tumble oft" that little 

 lint-lined den. 



I imagine that any one who makes a study of the living 

 birds and becomes acquainted with their many taking 

 ways, will soon begin to look askance at his cabinet of 

 stuffed ones, and at his collection of blown eggs, so many 

 of which, with the lapse of time, lose their richness of 

 coloring and gloss. I, for my part, no longer find the 

 mummified specimens in the glass case or on the dusty 

 shelf to my taste. A hawk, or an owl, or some one of 

 the waders who can stand to petrifaction when alive, are 

 the only birds anjway that are endurable stuffed. With 

 tbe others life is motioB, and after the first glance at 



their mounted skins the beholder's pleasure in them is 

 gone._ Besides, how thick the shell of selfishness on his 

 conscience; thoughts and memories will fall on it some- 

 times as he looks at his spoils, that like coals of fire will 

 make the creature show signs of life. 



No evil intent marred my pleasure that morning when 

 I discovered the dove prowling in my orchard. With a 

 heart soft as her own and as far from any treachery, I 

 chose a tree sufficiently distant from the scrubby winesap 

 she had picked out, and couching in the grass at its foot 

 proceeded to devote the remainder of the morning to 

 watching her movements: for though I had several times 

 found doves' nests in my orchard, this was the first time 

 I had ever caught one building, and I was curious to see 

 how these rosy-footed walkers managed among the inter- 

 lacing twigs. It soon appeared that whatever the diffi- 

 culties of the undertaking, the female dove was to en- 

 counter them alone. For the three or four hours that I 

 watched her she toiled at her task unaided; her selfish 

 mate, sitting concealed in a neighboring blackberry 

 patch, answered her short, piteous appeals for help with 

 a note of undisturbed serenity and content. She certainly 

 needed assistance. Unable to hop, like the perchers, from 

 twig to twig, she was obliged to make her way through 

 the trees by means of her wings, which striking against 

 the branches about her, baffled and distressed her beyond 

 measure. 



I was ready to accuse her of being uncommonly stupid 

 as well as headstrong by the time the morning was gone, 

 for it was only on one side that the branches of the 

 tree were so disposed as to admit her into the leafy in- 

 terior, and if she failed, as she frequently did, to strike 

 this opening when slie returned laden with building 

 material, she became completely bewildered, and wotdd 

 fly distressfully about the tree in search of the lost portal, 

 when apparently the difficulty Avould have been to have 

 missed it. But she was out of her sphere and suffering 

 the natural consequences of her aggression. 



About noon she flew away in search of food or rest, and 

 I went over there to see what she had accomplished. 

 Among the close-set branches of the tree lay the loose 

 jumble of stems and straws— the handful of trash which 

 had been collected at the cost of so much time and trouble. 

 It was a mere skeleton platform in arrangement, and the 

 material composing it could have been gotten together in 

 five minutes by a bluebird or a robin. Much of it had 

 evidently fallen through to the ground, and what re- 

 mained looked so hopelessly insecure as a foundation for 

 a nest that I was strongly tempted to improve it by 

 sprinkling a similar assortment of stems and straws on 

 top of it, but the remembrance of how a like officiousness 

 on my part had resulted in the case of two robins, de- 

 terred me, and after a short inspection of the dove's work 

 I went away. She came back no more that day, and I 

 believed that she had given it up, disheartened and dis- 

 gusted with things in general, and her mate in particular. 

 But the avian mind seldom changes in the matter of nest- 

 making, if left unmolested by man. Once resolved on a 

 building site I have seen them hold it in spite of most 

 audacious attacks from lesser foes, and overcome what 

 seemed to me insuperable natural difficulties. 



The dew was still bright on the grass the next morn- 

 ing when I heard the peculiar whistling flight of the 

 dove, and going down I found my bird at work. Again 

 she spent half the day at her solitary task, carrying and 

 arranging her coarse twigs and straws with an air of 

 troubled uncertainty that was quite piteous. Once when 

 a golden warbler suddenly darted down and gave her a 

 spiteful peck on the back she took no notice, but plodded 

 on absorbedly in search of straws. Three days this 

 work went on, the whole of the mornings being de- 

 voted to building and the afternoons to rest and recrea- 

 tion. 



At the end of this time the loose, shaky platform sup- 

 ported a pile of debris that presented a quite respectable 

 appearance, and though very far from answering to the 

 ordinary human conception of a nest, filled no doubt the 

 gentle breast of its builder with joyful pride and content. 

 The next day when I visited it I found her nestled upon 

 it for the purpose of laying. 



Watching the construction of this nest and still under 

 conviction that the great labor expended on it was 

 thrown away, in so far as the dove believed herself the 

 safer for being oti the ground, I now resolved thoroughly 

 to satisfy myself on this point. I determined at once to 

 search out and make a list of all the birds nesting on the 

 place, and by daily visits to each nest to ascertain how 

 many of them succeeded in getting their young safely on 

 the wing. My place is small, and the list consequently 

 short, but it answered the purpose— it gave me some idea 

 of what a purely fortuitous circumstance it is that any 

 bird of even our commonest species ever reaches matur- 

 ity. The list follows, and the birds are so well known 

 that the Latin names are not needed. 



1 house wren, 

 1 black-capped chickadee, 

 1 bluebird, 

 1 lark finch, 



1 golden warbler, 



2 robins, 



3 brown thrushes, 



IIST OF BIEDS NESTISG, 



2 cardinal bird 



3 catbirds, 



3 orchard orioles, 

 3 chipping sparrows, 

 1 mocking bird, 



1 kingbird, 



2 purple martins. 



Here were twenty-four nests over which I constituted 

 myself guardian, and which I visited every day or every 

 other day. By the ninth of June the result summed up 

 as follows: 



LIST OF BIRDS HATCHED. 



No. of Young. 



1 bluebu-d 3 



1 golden warbler 5 



1 chickadee 6 



2 robins (respectively) 3 and 5 



2 brown thrushes, each .3 



2 pui-ple martins, number unknown. 



It will be seen that for the nine nests which escaped, 

 fifteen were destroyed, and all these, with the exception 

 of one cardinal bird and two oriole nests, contained full 

 sets of eggs when first found. To tell of the various ac- 

 cidents that caused the destruction of even the few I 

 know all about, would take too long. The greater uart 

 of them had their eggs spirited away in the mysterious 

 fashion that usually characterizes these felonies. Some 

 morning I would climb to a nest to find it safe, sound, and 

 — empty; that would be all. 



Now I imagine that any one keeping a close watch over 

 the bird nests about a farmhouse could match this ex- 

 perience of mine, and if I am not mistaken, would come 

 to the same oonclusione which I have reached, namely, 



that it is indeed monstrous that the birds, exposed by na- 

 ture to such numberless perils, should have man to con- 

 tend against as their greatest enemy. That he is such, 

 who can read and doubt? 



Let us continue to smash fashion plates over the ladies' 

 heads, but let us, also, give a part of our attention to the 

 egg collectors, the accounts of whose shameless raids fill 

 pages of every ornithological pamphlet published. Who 

 has not been disgusted with the repeated descriptions of 

 these heartless robbing expeditions in which no nest or 

 bird is spared? Who has not been wearied with receiving 

 through the mail price lists in which the eggs of our most 

 useful song birds are offered at a few cents a set? Again, 

 learned naturalists show us in their papers what becomes 

 of many of the birds. Not content with large and com- 

 plete collections, they kill numbers of one species to 

 satisfy themselves regarding some slight variation in 

 pluraage, or they slaughter hundreds of our most beauti- 

 ful singers to prove, by examination of the vocal organs, 

 tins or that theorj' of song to be the true. one. "In the 

 mterests of science" is a fine phrase, but what it covers 

 will sometimes not bear the investigations of common 

 sense. 



Why are not our laws enforced to stop this wholesale 

 destruction? It is because the average observer believes 

 birds multiply so fast naturally, that no protection is 

 needed. He was never more deceived in bis life. If he 

 would be convinced of this, he has only to follow, for 

 one season, the fortunes of the harrassed 'songsters about 

 him. 



After all the above recorded disaster, of coui-se, I 

 watched over my dove with increased solicitude, strolling 

 every day or so by her tree, with just a quick glance to 

 see that she was still all right. A brooding bird will let 

 you fairly brush against her before she will start from 

 her nest, if she does not meet your eye. that alone con- 

 vmces her she is seen, I was careful, "then, not to alarm 

 this mother bird in that way, and in due time I had to 

 recite my little lesson in humility, for her darkly-mottled, 

 preternaturally-solemn twins were hatched and safely 

 reared within the leafy shelter of the wine-sap. 



S. A. Ball. 



SNAKES IN FLORIDA. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I don't think yom- correspondent "Anti Snake" need to 

 be so much afraid of rattlesnakes in Florida. I have done 

 considerable camping, tramping and hunting in the 

 twenty winters I have spent in Florida, but I have never 

 lost a dog nor seen a live rattlesnake in the woods or 

 swamps of this State. I walk through the swamps, scrub 

 palmetto or grass without ever thinking of snakes; and in 

 the twenty years have only known of two persons to have 

 been bitten by rattlers; one a Mr. Babcock, at Pine Island 

 Charlotte Harbor, and the yoimg Englishman killed this 

 winter at Halifax River, He saw the snake and struck 

 at it with a stick, when it struck back and hit him It 

 don't do to play with them. 



What is called the moccasin snake or cotton-mouth 

 here, is very abundant in the water and swamps in the 

 southern part of the State, but not much feared or con- 

 sidered very dangerous like the rattlers. 



I Avas once shooting from a boat in south Florida when 

 the bushes pulled out one of our rowlocks (quite a loss 

 when we could get no other), I proposed to our colored 

 man "Bill ' that he take off his shoes and pantaloons and 

 feel for it with his toes, in the water about three feet deep. 

 He dropped out of the boat and stepped upon a big moc- 

 casin snake. He gave an awful yelJ, and as he came out 

 had an enormous snake twined about his naked leo s. As 

 soon as he was out of the water it unwound and went 

 away. Bill was sure he was bitten, and I thought he 

 looked very pale for a black man, but I could find no bite 

 or damage. It was several days before he got over the 

 shock, and the rowlock was never found. The moccasin 

 snake keeps in or near the water all the time, and the- 

 fires that run all over the country do not kill them, but 

 the rattlesnake keeps most always upon the diy land,' and 

 most of them are burned up in the long grass and scrub 

 palmetto. 



I only know of three poisonous snakes in Florida or 

 United States : The rattlesnake, moccasin and coral snake. 

 The last is a small very pretty snake, and not dangerous 

 unless you handle it. The rattlesnake of the Southern 

 States is a very large and dangerous reptile, but, as I have 

 said before, a very rare snake and seldom seen. 



Jacksoiwillb, PJorida. Geo. A. BoAEDJLAN. 



DRAGON FLY AND MOSQUITO, 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I fully indorse what "Hermit" says regarding the praise- 

 worthy qualities of the dragon fly, in the last nuniber of 

 the FOKEST AND STREAM. Your correspondent Fannie 

 Peai'son Hardy evidently did not study her lesson in en- 

 tomology very closely before making her attack on these 

 very useful insects. Many times during the past 18 years 

 while wading trout streams in the Adirondack re<^ion' 

 have I welcomed the whir of the dragon fly. After coat- 

 ing my face with "tar and oil" and smoking until my 

 mouth was sore, in the vain endeavor to disperse the 

 cloud of black flies or gnats swarming about my bead 

 I have found it a relief to have this hawk of the insect 

 world swoop down among my persecutors. Back and 

 forth through the swarm he would dart with lightnino-- 

 like rapidity, presumably carrying away a gnat at each 

 return, and affording me at least temporary relief. The 

 whir of the dragon fly's wings in in-oximity to one's head 

 is not particularly soothing to a nervous individual, but 

 if one can rid himself of the idea instilled in his boyish 

 mind many yeai-s ago, that "if you are not good the 

 'darning needles' will sew up your ears," they are not at 

 all unpleasant companions under certain conditions. 



Utica, N. Y., March U. POKTSA. 



Jack Eabbits for England.— New York. March 13.— 

 Editor Forest and Stream: It may be of interest to your 

 readers to know that I shipped last week some Kansas 

 jack rabbits to the Duke of Wellington for propagation 

 on his estate, Strathfield Saye. Should they multiply, it 

 is probable that they will be adopted for coursing in place 



of the English hare, being so much larger and speedier. 



Geo. Shepard Page. 



A Book About Indiaks.— The Fohest ANn SittHAM will mall 

 free on application a descriptive circular of Mr. Grinnell's book. 

 "Pawnee Hero Stories and Foik-Tales," giving a table of contents 

 uad specimen iUBatratlona from the volume.— JLdlt). 



♦ 



