FOREST AND STREAM. 
[April 17, 1909. 
612 
amid the towering peaks of the Rockies, with 
no friends or tribesmen to lend aid or encour¬ 
agement, seemed to illustrate that spirit of re¬ 
liance and courage, so necessary to existence in 
that rugged country, and with a twig I accorded 
each little fallen hero a warrior’s grave. 
Elmer Russell Gregor. 
Bird Migrations. 
Los Angeles, Cal., April 2. —Editor Forest 
and Stream: I have read with much interest 
articles by Elmer Russell Gregor and Clarence 
J. Reynolds in regard to bird migration in 
Forest and Stream of Feb. 6 and March 20. 
As it has been an interesting subject to me for 
years, I would like to add my mite, throwing 
diction to the winds for the sake of brevity, 
even if I cannot do myself or the subject jus¬ 
tice with these few lines. 
Primarily, the preservation of the species and 
the survival of the fittest is that part of nature 
which works toward perpetuity. The birds do 
not go south in the fall or return in the spring 
of their own volition. It is through the guid¬ 
ing hand of what we call nature, and they are 
guided south rather than north; for instance, 
because of food to sustain them. Now, why 
do they go at all? The crow does not need to 
migrate, but he does. The Vermont bird win¬ 
ters in Connecticut and the Canadian bird 
comes down and occupies the place the Vermont 
bird left, and each has fulfilled nature’s laws 
between the moulting and the mating season 
and obeyed nature’s requirements. How do they 
know they are flying south? Intuition, if you 
can call it such, but rather it is this same guid¬ 
ing hand. This will all be admitted, of course. 
Now, I would like to advance another reason 
for consideration simply as a suggestion to 
those who are at all interested in the subject. 
A bird has two changes a year, coincident 
with its moulting, and at such times I believe 
the nature and disposition of the bird under¬ 
goes a radical change. In the spring the males 
—naturally the more vigorous—always form the 
advance guard returning northward, with the 
females following later, returning again by this 
same intuition to their old haunts, renewing 
their old loveships and commencing again to 
rear a family. But it is always the old birds 
that return to the same old place. Their off¬ 
spring of the previous summer never return to 
the old nest and call it home. They have their 
own work to perform. They mate and select 
their location for themselves, and thus it goes 
year by year. Always a mingling of new blood 
to make strong and keep intact the species. 
The fresh and resplendent plumage of the 
male bird after his winter outing will be looked 
upon with favor by some young but confiding 
spouse and preparations for housekeeping will 
begin. Later in early fall, after they have at¬ 
tained their somber plumage, a sudden and un¬ 
accountable change comes upon them. They 
begin to band together, desert their old haunts, 
while in the early summer they were fearless 
of man, considering it a pleasure to nest in his 
apple trees and under his eaves or among the 
vines and shrubbery of his home. They cared 
not for the members of his family passing to 
and fro close by the nest, bristling with an 
array of hungry mouths projecting upon all 
sides like a battleship with its twelve-inch guns. 
but in late midsummer they, with their young, 
now full fledged, all partake of that timidity or 
restlessness, they abhor and shun man and civili¬ 
zation and flock together—notably the robins 
and bluebirds—among the most secluded parts 
of the mountains preparatory to their sudden 
disappearance. 
This feeling of timidity, the forerunner of an 
unaccountable change, reaches its height at the 
time of departure, and to make it the more pro¬ 
nounced this move must always occur at night. 
This same change in disposition obtains also 
in the animal kingdom, among the deer, bears, 
squirrels, etc., when they are putting on their 
winter coats. 
Clover could not be grown in Australia once 
because there were no cats. Birds were put 
upon this earth and distributed over certain 
localities for an ultimate purpose. Why do they 
leave a land of plenty and migrate to other 
parts where their food supply is less plentiful? 
It is, it seems to me, to keep up the equal poise 
upon the earth between the insects, the birds 
and the animals. Thos. McD. Potter. 
The Otter in Massachusetts. 
Amherst, Mass., April 9. — Editor Forest and 
Stream; In Science for April 2* Dr. William 
Brewster gives data of a most interesting nature 
concerning the otter in Massachusetts. Dr. 
Brewster’s hypothesis concerning the part that 
Cape Cod has played in the preservation of 
these animals is well supported and quite prob¬ 
able. 
It must cause some surprise that within the 
comparatively small area of the Bay State there 
exist such wilderness conditions that the otter 
could remain unmolested long enough to mul¬ 
tiply and regain a foothold, as it may well have 
done in the loneliness of the cape; for I am 
inclined to accept the opinion of Dr. Brewster 
that Cape Cod may have served as a secure re¬ 
treat for the otter and possibly as a center of 
subsequent dispersion. 
In an earlier paperf on the otter in Western 
Massachusetts I e.xpressed the opinion that the 
present number of these animals in the Con¬ 
necticut Valley may be interpreted as evidence 
that the otter has more than held its own in 
this part of the State and remarked that these 
animals may have entered the State from out¬ 
side its limits along the Connecticut River. Dr. 
Brewster does not incline to this view and thinks 
the conclusion unwarranted; perhaps, even should 
be discredited, at least is compromised, by an 
apparent scarcity of these animals at the north 
around the headwaters of this river. I think, 
however, we may be a little slow in accepting 
this apparent scarcity as conclusive in view of 
the exceeding wariness of the animals in ques¬ 
tion. 
I did not neglect to consider the possibility of 
these animals coming from “native stock,” al¬ 
though I offered the alternative of another deri¬ 
vation. I still cling somewhat to the notion that 
their numbers have been recruited from time 
to time from other sources, most probably from 
the north. I was first inclined to the view that 
the animals may have been driven, or have found 
an early home, along the streams and among the 
*Vol. XXIX., No. 744, April 2, 1909, pp. 551-555. 
tScience, Vol. XXVIII., No. 726, Nov. 27, 1908, pp. 
772-775. 
numerous ponds among the hills in the least 
thickly settled districts back from the Connecti¬ 
cut, but as it seemed somewhat doubtful that 
the animals would have escaped notice, if in 
numbers, I inclined to the view of an extran¬ 
eous source. They may, indeed, have multiplied 
in the places they now inhabit along the main 
stream. ' None of these explanations is impos¬ 
sible. 
I think one must admit that an immigration 
from the Connecticut Valley, though possible, is 
not necessary to account for the otter in Eastern 
Massachusetts. Dr. Brewster does not endeavor 
very ardently to establish an emigration west¬ 
ward from the cape region, but he mentions the 
possibility. A possible migration either way is, 
obviously, conjectural. It is not unlikely that 
the safest hypothesis is that of separate prov¬ 
inces. Southeastern Massachusetts, with its in¬ 
sular position, might well have become the prison 
home of many lonely, wandering members of the 
otter family. Likewise the Connecticut Valley, 
hemmed in by hills on the west and cut off at 
the south, might prove a congenial home for 
considerable numbers, while along the northern 
reaches of the river the animals would probably 
remain scattered and would apparently be absent. 
It will be of interest at this place to record 
another instance of the otter in Eastern Massa¬ 
chusetts. On the authority of C. H. Ames, two 
otters were displayed at the fish and game ex¬ 
hibit at the Mechanics Fair Building in Boston 
seven or eight years ago. The animals were 
brought in by a local hunter from the Charles 
River. C. E. Gordon. 
Recent Publications. 
Bird Legend and Life, by Margaret Coulson 
Walker. Cloth, 229 pages, 34 illustrations, 
$1.25 net. New York, the Baker & Taylor 
Company. 
Through a pleasing arrangement of the text 
and the illustrations, the author presents an ex¬ 
cellent book for the information of young nature 
students. For example, take the magpie. The 
old legend quoted by the author has it that when 
the birds of the forest attempted to assist the 
ignorant magpie in building her nest, she in¬ 
sisted that she already knew all that they tried 
to show her, which incensed them so much that 
they told her, since she knew all about it, to 
build her nest herself, and thereafter they would 
not let her watch their nest-building. The re¬ 
sult is the ramshackle nest of the magpie. Fol¬ 
lowing these charming legends are notes on the 
habits of the birds, and the illustrations are 
half-tone reproductions from photographs from 
life by famous photographers. 
Parables from Nature, by Mrs. Alfred Gatty. 
Cloth, 280 pages, illustrated and decorated 
by Paul de Longpre. New York, G. P. 
Putnam’s Sons. 
While not a nature book in the modern mean¬ 
ing of the term, this is one that any boy or girl 
can read with profit and entertainment, for there 
is a moral in every fable, and the tales will bene¬ 
fit but not harm the young. A pretty story is 
that of the will-o’-the-wisp who, in his efforts 
to warn travelers away from the dangerous 
swamps, is always misunderstood by all save 
those who are wise in woodcraft. 
