IOGU RURAL NEW-YORKER 
Nature Notes 
Bird Baths, Woodchucks and Red Pepper 
We have a bird bath on a post about 
dO feet from our dining-room windows, 
and some days it seems as though the 
bath was used nearly every hour of the 
daylight. This morning was hot. and a big 
red-breasted robin got in the “tub” and 
dipped his head under the water and let 
it roll down his back, flipped tbe water 
up under bis wings until it seemed that 
he would be soaked. Then he flew into 
the peach tree about five feet away, and 
preened his feathers for about three min¬ 
utes. He could look down into that bath, 
and it looked so good to him that down 
he flew into it again and “had another.” 
Again he flew into the tree and shook 
himself and straightened his feathers. He 
knew be had enough, but that bath 
tempted him beyond his power to resist; 
down he went into it again. He took 
three baths inside of six minutes. 
A pluabe bird accompanied by her live 
children, flew in it one day ; the children 
lighted on the edge of the dish. She 
promptly drove them all off. They alight¬ 
ed again, and she drove them away again ; 
and 'the third time they returned. This 
time she picked at them savagely; and I 
could imagine her saying, “You shameless 
tilings, don’t you know you must not sit 
there looking at me when T am taking n 
bath?” She finished her bath in peace; 
they kept away. 
The bath is about an inch deep, and 
it's fun to see a little brown wren that 
comes there. She is so little that it takes 
all her courage to venture down into the 
water. She trots around on the edge of 
the dish, and peers down into the water, 
and after awhile ventures in. T must 
take some sand and make a slope on one 
side for her. 
Before we got the post set the bath 
was on the ground. A pair of robins 
came, the female hopped in at once, the 
male ran around just outside the dish, 
backward and forward, as fast as he 
could run, until she flew out. then in¬ 
stantly he was in the bath, but he would 
not come in until she was out. though the 
bath is 1(1 inches in diameter, plenty of 
room for both. 
This hill country in Connecticut is 
very stony. Stone walls surround the 
farms, also the village lots; and the walls 
are fine hiding places for woodchucks. 
My last planting of peas was entirely 
eaten off. so we did not get any from it. 
Then a row of cabbages went. It occurred 
to me to dust red pepper on the leaves. I 
did not know but it would kill the cab¬ 
bages. but it did not seem to hurt them 
any. Mr. Woodchuck must have got a 
hot mouth, for lie left the cabbage alone 
for awhile. Then showers came and 
washed the pepper off. and the cabbage 
suffered again. If I could make the 
pepper stick so that rains would not wash 
it off. I think that would be a cure. 
My peaches are following, and we found 
a half dozen partly eaten by the wood¬ 
chucks. One ran under the barn through 
a small hole in the stone underpinning. 
I put two steel traps there and got him ; 
a half-grown young one. But the one 
that eats my cabbage is a big fat mon¬ 
ster, for I have seen him twice. I used 
bisulphide of carbon with good results, 
on 'the farm, but you have to find both 
holes (they always have two to their 
burrows) and close them with stones and 
earth to keep the “chuck” in while the 
poisonous gas sends him to “that bourne 
from whence no woodchuck returns.” 
GEO. A. COSGROVE. 
The Useful Woodchuck 
1 notice on page 9S4 a letter entitled: 
“How to Kill Woodchucks” wherein the 
writer calls him stupid animal. May I 
suggest that he is hardly as stupid an 
animal ns the farmer who tries to ex¬ 
terminate him? On my farm I protect 
them as carefully as my chickens. He 
eats less food of value, is no care, aud 
when properly prepared and cooked sup- 
lilies more good food than a chicken. I 
also have made many articles of clothing 
from his hide and fur. When their in¬ 
crease warrants it I can easily get them 
with a rifle. I make a practice of salting 
down a number of them in the Fall, and 
value the meat. When preparing it is 
very necessary to take out the glauds 
under the shoulders carefully, or the meat 
will be strong. It seems a great pity to 
me that so many do not appreciate the 
wild things around them; we so often 
value only that which has cost effort or 
money. .r. henry bartram. 
Pennsylvania. 
Hawks and Nux Vomica 
I see the hawks and mix vomica are in 
the ring again, so 1 will give a chapter of 
my experiences. It is getting to be well 
on to 40 years since I first got Polk coun¬ 
ty sand in my shoes, and we had not been 
here long before my wife said : “I want 
some chickens. I would like to have all 
the fried chicken I could eat for once.” I 
got a trio of Barred Rocks and she began 
business. ’Possums and polecats liked 
chickeu for lunch, but a pair of Scotch 
collies soon made it interesting for the 
marauders. Then the hawks discovered 
chicken was good, and a ruction among 
the chickens usually brought us on the 
scene in time to see a chicken going with 
the hawk, and a loss of from one to three 
a day was a pretty heavy tax. 
I said the old settlers raise chickens; 
see what they do; so my wife went to a 
neighbor and came home with this for¬ 
mula : One teaspoonful “ox vomica” in 
in half pint corn-meal, water enough to 
make a wet. crumbly mash. I said I 
never beard of' such a thing. As the 
neighbor could neither read nor write it 
was up to us. I finally said “ox vomica” 
is their conception of “nux vomica,” of 
which strychnine is the active principle. 
A few days later T met Jack, another 
neighbor, learned in woodcraft, but writes 
his name with an “X.” I told the story 
to Jack and said : “What about the chick¬ 
ens?” He said it would not hurt them, 
but it sure gets the hawks. He said if a 
hawk gets a chicken and you can make 
him drop it. raise the skin on the head, 
put in some nux vomica under the skin, 
for the hawk always eats the head first; 
leave the chicken where the hawk dropped 
it. and he will come for it and you have 
your hawk sure. Not long after I heard 
a rumpus among the chickens and as I 
came around the corner of the building 
he was only a few feet away. ITe dropped 
the chicken. I raised the skin on the 
chicken’s head, put in nux vomica, left 
the chicken where the hawk dropped it. 
About au hour later I went to see results. 
The chicken was there, the head gone, and 
six feet away the hawk. dead. So the 
chickens were fed once a day on cornmeal 
mash with nux vomica flavoring, and I 
could not tell how long since we have lost 
a chicken by hawks. 
There is a reason ; the chicken is om- 
niverous, eats anything, grains, fruits, 
vegetables, flesh, dead or alive, anything 
and everything. TheShuwk, so far as my 
knowledge goes, eats only live flesh; no 
grains or vegetables, and tbe nux vomica, 
being a vegetable poison of the rankest 
kind, a little of it does the business. When 
my wife was feeding her birds nux vomica 
every little while I would find in the field 
a dead hawk ; uo sign of a gunshot wound, 
so I said he had young chicken and died 
of acute indigestion. The nux vomica is 
not fed to grown chickens, for the hawks 
take the little fellows, and they do not 
seem to suffer from it the least bit. The 
“bigwigs” may poo-hoo all they care to. 
nux vomica will get the hawks. I. R. 
Florida. 
Snake Skins in Birds’ Nests 
On page 903 the writer read with con¬ 
siderable interest the good article, “Some 
Observations ou Birds.” Speaking of the 
great crested flycatcher, Harvey Loseo 
says that he has found snake skins or 
“castings” woven into the nest, but that 
the reason for this queer custom has not 
been explained. 
Mr. Loser is right. The reason for 
placing cast snake skins in their nests 
by certain birds has not been fully 
answered. The writer has been an inter¬ 
ested student and observer of birds since 
early boyhood, and in his wanderings 
through woods and thickets he has looked 
for a satisfactory answer to the question. 
This habit of placing old cast-off snake 
skins in the nest is not uncommon, but it 
does seem to be limited to the flycatcher 
family aud to the common catbird. If the 
skins were found in the nests of some of 
our less pugnacious birds we might be 
led to believe that they were used for 
nest protection, but those who have 
watched the kingbird know that he is 
well able to defend his rights and prop¬ 
erty. So is the catbird. Let an intrud¬ 
ing crow or blue jay prowl through the 
berry patch near bis nest and watch what 
happens. No, it hardly seems that birds 
which are both able and wiling to defend 
their homes need depend on snake casts 
for protection. 
The late John Burrows, that grand old 
naturalist, whom we think of almost rev¬ 
erently. oucc said, relative to this mat¬ 
ter: “It is not likely that snake casts 
are woven into bird’s nests with the idea 
of ornamentation. Birds do not try to 
make their nests conspicuous; on the 
other hand they use wonderful ingenuity 
in making them blend with their environ¬ 
ment. The nest of the wood pewee serves 
as an admirable example of woods archi¬ 
tecture. Exquisitely woven of plant 
fibers, moss and rock lichens, and resting 
upon a branch of gnarled apple or oak. 
it harmonizes so perfectly with the limb 
that it appears to be nothing more than a 
healed limb scar.” 
Almost by accident the writer happened 
to observe what he humbly offers as a 
possible answer to the question. On the 
old home farm is a dense hedge of wild 
plum and hazel bushes beside an old stone 
wall. This hedge is truly a bird tene¬ 
ment. inhabited by birds of all kinds, liv¬ 
ing in true neighborly harmony. But all 
was not well in tbe thicket. A flock of 
cowbirds, sometimes called cmv blackbirds 
or buffalo birds, followed tbe Guernseys 
in the adjoining pasture, and our obser¬ 
vations showed that these “parasites” de¬ 
pended upon the nests in the hedge as a 
handy nursery. These birds, we all know, 
do not set up au establishment of their 
own and keep house as other birds do. 
They slyly lay au egg in the nest of the 
smaller songsters while the owner is 
away, and leave all the “chores” of incu¬ 
bating and feeding to the unfortunate fos¬ 
ter parents. Nests most commonly se¬ 
lected by cowbirds for this labor-saving 
plan of raising a family by proxy are 
those of the song sparrow, yellowbird, 
American goldfinch and vireo. 
But to get back to the nests in the 
hedge. Cowbird eggs in the nest of 
other birds were more nearly tbe rule 
thau the exception, A yellow-bird’s nest 
contained four tiny eggs and in addition 
two much larger ones which had been de¬ 
posited there while the wee yellow owners 
were away. Soon all the eggs hatched. 
Within a week three of the baby yellows 
had been crowded out of their rightful 
home by the big lusty usurpers. The 
fourth somehow managed to survive. It 
was pitiful to watch the little foster 
parents as they tried to pacify the enorm¬ 
ous appetite of the two adopted fledgliugs, 
both of which were soon larger than the 
yellowbirds. With such appetites as this 
to appease it is no great wonder that cow¬ 
birds do not take kindly to raising their 
own families. 
Within less than a rod was the nest of 
a catbird. Interwoven into the mixed 
fabric of the nest, along with a couple of 
pieces of dirty white rag and a piece of 
paper, was a more or less badly weath¬ 
ered cast snake skin. This nest con¬ 
tained four pale blue eggs which hatched 
aud developed without molestation. No 
cowbirds patronized it. though it was so 
easily seen that it could not possibly have 
escaped their attention. It is entirely 
possible that the snake skin twined among 
the twigs of the nest kept uninvited lodg¬ 
ers at a respectful distance. At any 
rate, we have never found a “boarder” in 
a catbird’s nest with its snake skin dang¬ 
ling in the breeze beside it. 
We do not wish to enter this as final 
proof that the snake east is placed in the 
nest as a “scarecrow” to keep away un¬ 
welcome visitors. We do, however, have 
our own private opinion on the matter, 
and will be interested in hearing from 
others on the same point. Suffice it to 
state that a snake skin draped conspicu¬ 
ously over a stump in the pasture near 
the place where the cows rested in the 
shade in the heat of midday kept the at¬ 
tending cowbirds at a very respectful dis¬ 
tance. This experiment was tried several 
times, and always with the same result. 
Wisconsin. joe Alexander. 
August 27, 1921 
Raising Young Raccoons 
Will you give information how to raise 
baby raccoons? c. o. j. 
Terryville, Conn. 
I have never had any experience in 
raising baby raccoons, but from a general 
knowledge of their habits I should expect 
to have success handling them about tin* 
same way as a dog of similar age. After 
they are old enough to eat they should be 
fed about the same as a puppy. They 
ought to have some meat, clean fish or 
similar food, but not too much of it. 
There should be a large amount of bulkv 
food, such as bread and fresh vegetables, 
given them each day. The milk they 
have Should be clean and good, and the 
feeding dish must be kept clean, a. c. w. 
Adventure with a Turkey Mother 
T bad the privilege, a few days ago 
while at my farm in Randolph County. 
West Virginia, to see wliat few have the 
opportunity to witness. 
I went over a low ridge t<> a young 
orchard to pick some berries. When I 
got down to a small hollow that cuts 
through the orchard I found some nice 
ones, and stopped to pick them. Pres¬ 
ently there was a great commotion rather 
behind me and within 15 or 20 feet of me. 
On looking around what should I see hut 
a wild turkey hen. a fine big one of not 
less than 15 pounds, with wings partly 
spread and tail ditto, cutting around me 
in a circle, and every second cry “Phut, 
phut, phut” iu the most emphatic manner. 
My first thought was “Oh! so you’ve got 
a nest here. I’ll get the eggs and raise 
some wild turkeys.” But no sooner had 
the thought formed in my mind than I 
saw two little brown streaks heeling it 
up the hill through the grass and bushes 
and over a little rise out of sight. 
I have surprised mother pheasants and 
quail and other birds at their nests and 
with their young, which would always 
take to flight after a few efforts to dis¬ 
tract my attention and lead me away 
from nest or young, but not so with this 
brave and noble bird. Rather than seek 
her own safety in flight she chose to stnv 
witli her babies, which were not larger 
than quail and could not yet fly. T tried 
to locate the 'hiding place of some of 
them but not one could I find. 
I watched that bird for at least a half 
hour. She would circle around me. some¬ 
times close and sometimes farther aw.-.v. 
but at no time out of my sight except 
when behind a bush or an apple tree, 
and all the time she kept up that warn¬ 
ing cry of “Phut, phut, phut!” to let 
her young know that danger was still 
near. 
Well, as T had seen the beginning <>f 
it I naturally wanted to see the ending. 
So I worked my way around to where 
there was a bunch of bushes and when 
she disappeared behind another hunch 
I dropped down on the ground. When 
she came out where she had a clear view 
of the ground she missed me. looked 
around for a minute or two. then flew 
up into a tree from where she could get 
a better view. Failing to locate me from 
that vantage point she dropped to the 
ground and took a circle around above 
whore she had seen me last. She soon 
located me and away she went helter 
skelter, crying “Phut. phut, phut!” 
T found I would have to seek a better 
hiding place if I saw what I wanted t" 
see. So I went down across the hollow 
where I scared her up and up a little hill 
side to a thicket of dense brush, crawled 
in under the edge of the bushes and 
waited. Presently she came around 
above me and down past my hiding place 
when—“Phut, phut!” and away she went, 
having seen me again. I crawled farther 
back in the thick brush until I had but 
a small loop-hole through which to look. 
Soon she walked around on the opposite 
hillside to scan the place where she saw 
me last. Taking up her position directly 
opposite me. with neck stretched, head 
alert, and seemingly every muscle tense. 
I knew those keen eyes were scanning un¬ 
hiding place to see if she could catch 
sight of that white shirt and straw hat 
But as she failed to locate me her warn¬ 
ing calls came less frequent and with less 
force. Then l knew if I kept still f would 
have but little longer to wait. 
Presently her call changed to “C'houlk. 
ohoulk. choulk.” or at least that was 
what it sounded like to me. and O! the 
love and tenderness in those low calls! 
As if she was saying “All right, dearies. 
The danger is past. That hateful mar 
has gone. Come on out to your mother.” 
But don’t you know it took two or three 
minutes before she could persuade thos" 
little rascals from their hiding places? 
Directly T saw a little brown streak mak¬ 
ing its way toward her. then another, 
one. two. three, four. five. I don’t know 
whether she could count or not. but any¬ 
way she seemed satisfied that they were 
all there, and then she turned about and 
disappeared over the ridge into the woods 
with her little family at her heels. 
Killed her? Y r es, T might have done 
so with a stone, for at times she was not 
more than 15 feet from me, and then 
there was my trusty little “Stevens” over 
at the house but a few steps away, which 
I could have gotten and been hack before 
she could have gathered her young and 
gotten away with them. But who could 
have had the heart? A man who could 
have killed that brave loving mother would 
never have been forgiven for the crime. 
Or at least if I had done so I never 
could have forgiven myself. 
Washington. D. C. T. S. gekkard. 
■Look at that smile! Is this a discouraged farmer? Not today—not while 
the chickens are good-natured. This is Eugene G. Lee—a little Jerseyman 
of 17 months. May he keep smiling until his months number 1200 
