264 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. 4, 1902. 
since his capture; and neither of them ever sounds his 
rattle, except occasionally, when ladies come to see them 
and they appear to be excited by the. imfamtliar apparel of 
tiie visitors. 
I occasionally lift them up with a long stick, or poke 
tbeni to make tjietn display themselves to visitors, with- 
out exciting their resentment. I once put my hand in 
the box and stroked the large one on the back, but on 
another occasion my wliite shirt sleeve seemed to excite 
him and he gave a slight admonition with his rattle, 
whereupon I withdrew my arm. 
Since Joseph has shed his skin, I observe two orifices 
near the medial facial line,half-way between the end of 
nose and base of head. They are open holes, about the 
size of darning needles, and about three-sixteenths of an 
inch apart. In the other snake they appear as dull specks, 
and are not open. 
I have not yet had an opportimity to note at what tem- 
perature these snakes become torpid. The minimum ther- 
mometer reading so far has been 46 degrees on the night 
of Sept. 13, but at tlie time of observation, in the morn- 
ing, was 51 degrees. 
There is probably an individuality of cliafaclref among 
rattlesnakes as well as among men and other creatures. 
As before stated, the lai"ger of these snakes has never 
offered to strike at all, and when he was being" captured 
made strenuous efforts to escape, bounding over the 
bushes instead of running on the ground. The other one 
showed great pugnacity at first whenever disttirbed, which 
he kept up for several weeks ; but he had very rough 
handling at the time of his capture. 
Joseph opened his countenance ^yith two deliberate 
yawns one day, and his fangs were a very conspicuous 
feature, projecting at right angles from the palate about 
half an inch, but enveloped in loose skin nearly to the 
point. They are probably with their curvature, three- 
quarters of an inch long. 
These two pets will be put into "cold storage" for ^le 
winter, when the weather gets cold enough to render 
them torpid. Coahoma. 
Intelligence of Wild Things. 
BY HERMIT; 
(Continued from Vol. LP'fll.., page 445.) 
lotercommanlcation of Birds aod Bird Intelligecce. 
On Sunday, May 30, 1897, while the church bells were 
calling saint and sinner to worship in the city of 
Gloucester, and a catbird's blithe music, supplemented by 
the silvery bells of a veery, was calling me to worship 
in my cabin dooryard, I turned to the path that leads to 
Magnolia Swamp. 
Two years before, on the west side of the SAvamp, I had 
ciscovered a woodpecker's sap orchard. For two seasons 
I had carefully noted the work of the woodpeckers in 
their curious method of tapping trees, and I desired now 
to add to my knowledge by a few hours of observation. 
It was a glorious morning, bright with sunshine, tem- 
pered by a crisp air. It was one of the few sunshiny days 
rescued from a cold rainy spring month. The trees were 
forward and for the most part covered with full-grown 
leaves. The white oaks were late as usual, their leaves 
were tiny and at a distance looked to be a silvery gray in 
the sunshine. The hillsides west of Magnolia Swamp 
were lighted up by this immature gray foliage, while 
here and there the dark green of the pines afforded a 
pleasing contrast. 
I found the sap orchard deserted. The trees, red maples 
and canoe birches, were dead or dying. The sapsuckers 
and their self-invited guests, the hummingbirds, had 
drained the life-blood of their helpless victims. All of the 
maples were still standing, but many of the gray birches 
had been broken off by the wind just below the belt of 
punctures. 
While I was searching for another sap orchard, I saw 
a barred owl, with something in his bill, fly to a grove of 
small hemlocks. I followed on my hands and knees and 
found his owlship on a low limb. Evidently this was his 
breakfast hour. The thing in his bill proved to be a 
leopard frog. He was preparing to swallow the frog by 
crushing the bones of the legs and joints. He did not see 
me, or if he did, he ignored my presence and continued 
leisurely to prepare and swallow his breakfast. After- 
ward he spent several minutes preening his feathers before 
settling down for a Sunday nap. A pair of saucy chicka- 
dees, scouring the woods for a Sunday breakfast, discov- 
ered the owl and gave the alarm. Inside of two minutes 
I counted thirty-six birds, all called together by the cries 
of the chickadees. These birds included cuckoos, war- 
blers, bluejays, thrushes, vireos, flycatchers and buntings. 
How they did jeer and abuse the owl, but all were care- 
ful to keep at a safe distance. The bluejays seemed to 
be filled with fury, and if birds can swear, doubtless that 
owl listened to some very emphatic language. 
For twenty minutes that patch of young hemlocks con- 
tained noise and life enough to stock a first-class aviary. 
The owl seemed bored, but was apparently fearless. 
Thirty-two minutes after the first alarm all the birds 
had disappeared, excepting two red-eyed vireos. The 
vireos continued to scold vigorously. The owl had in- 
truded on their' nesting ground. Not twenty feet away 
a vireo's nest swung lightly from the horizontal limb of a 
red beech. It seemed to me that the owl suspected the 
presence of the nest, for he thrust out his head and swung 
it from side to side as if searching for something. After 
a while he discovered the nest and flew to the beech limb. 
When he had commenced to approach the nest by short 
hitches along the limb,, the vireos changed their scolding 
to cries of alarm. Immediately all the birds returned. 
Again the owl was told that he was a robber and a great 
rascal lay every bird in the grove. As he "continued to 
approach the nest, I thought it time to interfere. "Hold 
there !" I shouted, and the effect on the awl was in- 
.stantaneous. He stopped short, crouched on the limb, 
then twisted his impish face directly into the back of his 
neck and glared at me with a frightened look in his wide- 
open eyes. After a brief inspection he tumbled forward 
off the limb, caught himself on his wings and floated as 
noiseless as 'a feather into the dark shadows of Magnolia 
Swamp. I examined the vireo nest and found it empty- 
in fact, it was not yet completed. , , . j j> 
It was evident, from what took place, that birds of 
difl^erent species can communicate with each other. 
First, the chickadees call other birds to the spot by cries 
that certainly arc understood to mean danger. 
Afterward, the vireos did the same thing. While the 
latter were scolding the owl, other birds paid no atten- 
tion, but responded at once to their cries for help. 
After the owl had disappeared, the birds scattered as 
before. The bluejays and two thrushes stopped back to 
ii!terview mc and find out if my intentions were friendly. 
When all the birds had disappeared except the vireos, I 
went in search of a new sap orchard. I soon found a 
clump of red maples containmg two trees that had been 
tapped by woodpeckers. The belt of punctures on both 
trees was nearly a foot in width, but the woodpeckers 
did not show up during my three hours' tarrJ^ 
This woodpecker, the yellow-bellied (Sphyropicus 
varius) does laot fiest on the Cape, so had doubtless de- 
parted in migration, but three hummingbirds were tight- 
ii-'g for the sap buckets, and a red squirrel settled matters 
b}' driving the hummers from one tree to the other. 
The red squirrel was a new feature in a woodpecker's 
sap orchard. He did not chng to one spot as squirrels do 
when tapping for themselves, but instead moved rapidly 
around the tree, thrusting his tongue into the drills for 
the sweet sap. I suppose the squirrel owned the terri- 
tory where the maple trees grew, and was more than 
willing that the woodpeclcers should tap the trees for his 
benefit. 
The drills made by the woodpecker extended through 
the outside bark and into the cambium layer. From 
my observation with a good glass, during several sea- 
sens, I found that the woodpeckers were after the 
elaborated sap that descends from the leaves, through the 
inner bark, and did not extend the drills into the wood 
where they would reach the crude sap flowing up from 
the roots. The wisdom of this procedure was evident. 
The elaborated sap is far richer in nutriment than the 
crude sap, and the woodpeckers knew more about the 
growth of trees than many human beings, so worked un- 
derstandingly. 
Each drill is made deep enough to hold about two 
drops of sap. The upper drills are the only ones to 
afford sap, which proves that it is certainly the elaborated 
sap flowing down from the leaves that the birds get. 
I had read in works on ornithology that the wood- 
peckers tapped trees so that the sap woidd attract in- 
sects upon which they could feed. Also that the birds 
were after the soft bark or cambium layer for food. 
While the woodpeckers do catch a fly now and then, it 
is evident, even to a careless observer, that it is the sap 
that is sought. I have seen them eat small pieces of the 
cambium layer, but I think they did so because the soft 
bark was soaked with sweet sap. 
The three hummingbirds made that little sunny glade in 
the forest as lively as a Mexican fandango. The two 
males were jealous of each other, and both birds seemed 
desperately in love with the demure maid. She attended ■ 
strictly to business by drinking from the sap buckets 
left unguarded by the red squirrel. The male hummers 
spent most of- the time dancing in the air. They took 
turns in madly pursuing each other; the pursued never 
turned tail, but flew backward with a swiftness that was 
n-.arvelous. The buzzing of their wings and their shrill 
cries furnished the music for the wild dance. 
The hummingbirds drink from the drills while poised 
in the air, but often alight and cling- to the bark while 
drinking, the wings closed and silent. 
Flies and hornets were in evidence, crawling on the 
bark of the maples or flying around the drills. A hornet 
stung the squirrel on the ear. When I left the latter was 
shaking his head and telling the hornets what he thought 
of them. 
When I returned to the cabin, I found a pair of cat- 
birds in trouble. They nested in a dense mass of shrub- 
bery about eighty feet from the door yard. The male 
catbird met me some distance from the nest, and by his 
excited cries I knew that some bird enemy was near at 
hand. When I came in sight of the nest I discovered the 
trouble. A black snake was making his way through the 
bushes toward the nest, and the mother bird was waging 
a fierce but fruitless battle. 
I killed the snake, which was over five feet in length. 
The nest contained four eggs. For the time being they 
v/ere safe. 
In due time the nest contained four baby catbirds. One 
moonlight night, about 10 o'clock, there was a great out- 
cry from the old catbirds. I had gone to bed, in my ham- 
.mock, in the open air with but a roof over me to keep 
off the rain, so I could hear the birds and knew that they 
v/ere fighting to save their little ones. Before I could go 
to the rescue one of the catbirds flew to the bushes within - 
three feet of my head, and franticly called to me for help. 
When I came in sight of the nest I saw a snake drop to 
the ground. One of the young catbirds was missing. A 
hurried search beneath the bushes in the dim light was 
unsuccessful. The snake had silently and swiftly disap- 
peared with his victim. ^ 
The old catbirds were pets of mine of several years 
standing, and the tragic fate of the baby bird caused me 
to try to save the other three. I removed the nest and 
placed it in a covered box in the cabin. The catbirds 
followed me to the cabin door, but made no protest. The 
next morning before sunrise the birds awoke me by their 
cries. While I was dressing they spent the time flying 
to and fro, from cabin to hammock, calling to me to 
hurry up and bring out their babies. Both birds had in- 
sects in their bills. I did not take the nest to the old spot, 
but instead placed it in a clump of bushes near the cabin. 
When I had secured the nest the old birds gave the three 
babies their breakfast. This programme was followed 
day after day, until the young birds Avere old enough 
to fly- . . \ • 
About two hundred visitors one Sunday inspected the 
nest and the old birds did not make a protest or show 
fear. They knew that 1 would protect thea- little ones. 
A clear case of bird intelligence. 
The Aurora Borealif. 
Pale, pyrrhic pyres prismatic purple pour- 
Quiescent, quivering, quickly, quaintly, queer, 
Rich, rosy, regal rays resplendent rear; 
Strange shooting streamers,, streaking starry skies 
Trail thdr triumphant tresses— trembling ties. 
As to Bluebird? ♦ 
To begin with, T have a garden. True; it is only a 
little one, a pocket edition, so to speak. Thirty feet by 
30 feet isn't a Western wheat ranch, exactly, so I have 
no room to spare for weeds. Nevertheless, as a suburb- 
anite, two hours' work per diem before 7 M. and 
good feeding makes that plot produce all my vegetables 
except potatoes and corn; and you should just see the 
long rows of canned tomatoes and Bartlett pears in their 
jars in our storeroom! But that's madarrie's affair, not 
mine. 
To keep out various neighborly dogs, cats and the baby, 
a two-foot wire netting surrounds the place on three 
sides, the fourth (the rear) being a raspberry hedge, 
which, by the way, gives me a couple of quarts for break- 
fast each day during the season. N. B. — I don't eat them 
all myself! 
Well, it occurred to me that a residential family of bug- 
catchers would be a desideratum, two other small gardens 
backing up on mine; so I looked over the woodpile and 
took thought. Presently an empty starch box Avith a 
sliding cover shot itself into view, as inanimate things 
will do sometimes. The very thing! A square hole 
sawn for a door, now, the box turned upside down and 
the sUde drawn half-way out for a piazza, and the hole 
thus left covered with a bottom board fitted in — what 
more could a bug-catcher ask for, save bugs? Then for 
the mount, here's a nine-foot piece of gaspipe with a 
union on the end and screw holes in It all ready to screw 
on that bottom board. So said, so done. Then, for 
housewarming, a handful of loose, soft string and another 
of oats is dropped inside, and the pole erected in the 
raspberry hedge, a cat-proof sanctuary high in air. In 
eight hours the advertisement was answered! 
The way that pair of bluebirds carried straw was a 
caution. Perhaps they were late in their work, but now 
they were at it they certainly lost no time, and in an 
astonishingly short time they evidently had completed 
the hatching business. Meantime, the winds of heaven 
fell upon that house, the sun likewise, and rain tried its 
hand as well — a nice, wet hand without gloves; and the 
wood of the box swelled with indignation and^ then 
shrank away, leaving the nailheads sticking out in the 
air like the bankswallows' holes after the flood came 
down (I'm not responsible for the scientific accuracy of 
that statement!). Then, half the bottom of that house, 
the newer half, fell off! 
Out I went in the rain and finding that the aperture 
seemed bridged over with the straw of the nest, I mounted 
a stepladder and laced on a piece of zinc, with wire, as 
an extemporized bottom. By this time, with straws 
bursting out of every crack and corner and .an ancient, 
weatherbeaten color, it would pass muster as the veriest 
antique in the county. No fat old barn could hold a 
candle to it, and it jarred on Madame's nerves artistic. 
But the bluebirds kept on birding just the same, till, in- 
stead of two there were five. Then it was curious to 
note the different ways the parent birds approached the 
nest. The male came bluffly from one side and lit boldly 
on the piazza. The female invariably made a circuit be- 
hind the pear tree till in a direct line with the door, th.en 
made a miraculous dive through the branches and was 
in the doorway like a shot. As a home market bird 
neither came up to contract. They sought their worms 
from a distance, and it was not till the young ones were 
able to fly down did one of them pay more than casual 
attention to the storeroom at their threshold. 
Vacation came, and we went away about that business. 
Two weeks later, on retiirning, that weatherbeaten box 
was found to have slipped off backward and hung with its 
nose pointed to the zenith most desertedly, and I took it 
down and partly dismantled it; when, lo! there were two 
fat young bluebirds in it, half fledged. Back I hustled 
the pieces into shape, and once more set it up in hori- 
zontal fashion, more disreputable, if anything, than ever 
as to looks, and noted that the old birds meanwhile had 
returned from foraging and sat, each with a worm in 
beak, in absolute silence, on neighboring treetops. In 
a minute or two they made for the nest and resumed 
business at the old' stand, as though nothing had hap- 
pened. Once again, later, I started to take down that 
box, and going out found seven bluebirds having an "old 
home week" in and around it; and now I want to know 
if I've got to keep it up there all winter! It isn't a credit 
to my architecture. j p T 
4 Park Street, Boston. 
Habits of the Red Sqttirfel. 
Richmond, Va. — Editor Forest and Stream: In this 
week's issue, that of Sept. 27, I notice an article on the 
red squirrel by S. C. S. T., of Toronto, Canada, in which 
he inquires whether or riot squirrels drink. 
Squirrels do drink. They lap the water up very much 
as does a cat, assuming very much the same position if 
the water is on a level with the body. As your readers 
are doubtless aware, there are a large number of tame 
gray squirrels in the parks of this city, protected and fed 
by the city. They are very tame and will take nuts out of 
the hand, and I have had them go into my pockets after 
them. Last Sunday my wife and I walked through 
Capitol Square after a rain, and one big fellow came down 
the walk with us till he came to an iron cover of some 
kind. The upper surface was divided into squares and 
these were full of rain water. He stopped there and 
drank. We were within four feet of him, and I could dis- 
tinctly see his httle tongue lapping the water up and the 
muscular contractions- of his throat as he swallowed. 
I -have tried several -times to get photos of them, but 
failed each time except one. The noise of the shutter 
startles them and the plate only shows a whirl of some- 
thing. In one case I got a good picture, but the squirrel 
was shedding his coat and the tail was very ragged. I had 
one sit in my lap one day and eat peanuts out of a bag. 
Another came along and started to climb up my leg, when 
the first one gave as fine an illustration of concentrated 
rage as could be wished for. I could feel him tremble all 
over. ■ 
One thing I have noticed, they never bark. Is the bark 
a note of alarm or what is it intended for? 
RoBT, Burgess, 
