Sept, 1915 
CHARACTERISTIC BIRDS OF THE DAKOTA PRAIRIES 
177 
gather along the woods and thickets of wild rose, silverberry, and thornapple, 
to eat the haws and berries. The straw stacks left unburned in the wheat 
fields may also afford them some food, but in severe weather the need of addi- 
tional supplies may well be felt. This need was recognized one winter by a 
farmer who, though having the reputation of being the meanest man in the 
county,” was met by a neighbor carrying a load of wheat to a self-feeding 
granary in the woods because he ‘ ‘ could sleep better if he knew the chickens 
had something to eat!” As the winter proved the worst in years he had good 
reason to rest better for his Samaritan act. Since then, we were told, the 
postal authorities have authorized the rural route mail-carriers to distribute 
corn supplied to them whether by individuals or the Fish and Game Commis- 
sion of the state. 
Another characteristic bird of the prairies of which I saw all too little 
was the Upland Plover. One parent whom we passed when driving stood high 
in the prairie grass looking at us while just the head of its young one showed 
above the grass. Another plover surprised me, standing not on the ground but 
on top of a telephone pole, its round head and trim body mounted high on its 
long legs — true wader of meadows! On another day a guarding parent ap- 
peared in the blue sky ahead of us as we drove slowly up a long slope. Down 
it came toward us, its long wings on the down stroke giving it a curious wish- 
bone figure. Down it came, though not concerned with us as it proved, for, 
passing by, it took a wide sky circle on fluttering wings — while a Marsh Hawk 
heedless of its secret went serenely on its way looking for meadow mice. When 
the plover’s liquid note is heard or the big birds come out of the sky to drop 
to earth, they give a rare thrill of pleasure. How much more were one fortun- 
ate enough to hear all their notes and watch their fascinating maneuvers. 
Lovely birds ! They go well with the big clean prairie — dividing their time 
between earth and sky. 
Among the kindred spirits of the plains are the Longspurs, noted for 
their ecstatic flight song, birds that I had looked forward most eagerly to see- 
ing in North Dakota. But here again I was sorely disappointed for I reached 
only the eastern edge of their present range. The few Chestnut-collars that I 
saw were in the old level valley of the Sheyenne River, as were most of the 
Horned Larks seen during the summer. The Longspurs were no disappoint- 
ment when found, striking birds perching on fences, showing their black chests, 
running along the road ahead of the horses showing their chestnut napes, or 
best of all springing up from the grass into the air to sing on fluttering wings 
their bright charming song suggestive of the jubilations of the Bobolink. How 
it made you want to stay and watch them! Longspurs and Lark Buntings! 
Lucky the ornithologist who can visit their breeding grounds. The Longspurs. 
like the Burrowing Owl, have been driven out by the breaking of the prairie, it 
is said, which would explain their absence in the wheat belt where I spent 
the summer ; for wheat and flax fields have restricted the prairie mainly to a 
few hillsides and grassed-over sloughs. 
In these scattered prairie islands the Bobolinks still find choice nesting 
grounds, spots of peculiar interest if you are new to prairies. From the top 
of one of the low swells you look down on great stretches of bluish green wheat 
with only round sunken islets of waving prairie grass. The unheaded wheat 
stands immobile on its sturdy stalks, but the long slender-stemmed prairie 
grass bows with every breath of the breeze — wavelets chase each other over 
the surface and if you walk through the slough the sensitive grass sways and 
