April, 1918 
FOREST AND STREAM 
223 
The innocent-looking Bloodroot furnished war-paint to the Indians and White Trilliums still imitate patches of winter snow 
in the mountains of the eastern States. 
A rich warbling song from a tree-top 
catches our ear and looking up we see a 
bird in carmine plumage with a short, 
cone-shaped bill—the Purple Finch. This 
species, particularly in the spring, feeds 
largely on the buds of trees and it is 
quite commonly supposed that in doing so 
it is injuring the trees. As a matter of 
fact this bird and all other species which 
eat buds do little or no harm, for the 
reason that they cannot reach the terminal 
buds (those at the ends of the twigs and 
which on development continue the 
growth of the branch), as easily as they 
can the lateral buds (those on the sides 
of the branches), so that all that results 
from their bud-eating is a little pruning, 
much after the fashion of that given by 
the orchardist to his fruit-trees. 
One of the most beautiful songs to be 
heard in the spring woods is that of the 
White-throated Sparrow—a minor whistle 
of three clear long notes in rising inflec¬ 
tion followed by three sets of triplets. If 
we wish a nearer view of the singer we 
can readily call him up to us. To do this 
sit perfectly still, place the back of the 
hand against the mouth and draw in the 
breath so as to make a “cheeping” sound. 
He will answer with a series of chirps and 
will gradually work his way nearer and 
nearer until he is but a foot or two from 
our eyes. This method of calling birds is 
of universal application, and the student 
of bird life will find that by its use he can 
obtain close-up views of the great major¬ 
ity of our birds. In fact in observing wild 
life one of the most useful things is to 
learn to “freeze,” to learn to “play stump,” 
that is to remain perfectly motionless, as 
in this way one will see far more than 
when on the move. Most wild animals 
are very quick to catch motion, and very 
alert at detecting even slight sounds, but 
of a motionless and silent object they have 
little fear. By thus “freezing” and call¬ 
ing in the manner indicated I have ob¬ 
tained many intimate glimpses of the life 
of a great many wild birds and mammals, 
and have called up not only birds and the 
smaller mammals such as weasels, mink, 
etc., but also larger species, as the lynx. 
It is in the woods that we see the first 
butterflies of the season, one of the com¬ 
monest, and at the same time one of the 
handsomest, being the Mourning Cloak, an 
insect with a spread of about three inches, 
with the wings rich brownish-purple, bor¬ 
dered with yellow and with a row of blue 
spots at the inside margin of the yellow 
band. This species, like the other butter¬ 
flies of early spring, hibernates in hollow 
trees and other sheltered places, sleeping 
until awakened by the enlivening rays of 
the vernal sun. 
In the spring the hardwood forest is 
nature’s flower-garden, and the forest floor 
is carpeted with blossoms—Bloodroots, 
Yellow Adder’s-tongue, Hepaticas, Violets, 
Dutchman’s Breeches, Bishop’s Caps, Jack- 
in-the-Pulpits, and Trilliums white and 
red. These woodland plants send up their 
leaves and flowers early in the season, 
for at this time the trees being still bare 
of leaves the sunlight reaches the ground 
and light is necessary to enable the leaves 
to change the raw materials of the soil 
and air into food. The leaf of a plant is 
in fact a workshop in which the carbon 
dioxide of the air and the water and dis- 
Jack-in-the-Pulpit’s sermons never bore 
solved salts of the soil are united into 
plant food, the first product which can be 
detected being starch, and sunlight acting 
on the green matter (known as chloro¬ 
phyll) in the leaf is the power which runs 
this factory. Later in the season the 
leaves of the trees cut off so much of the 
light that but little reaches the ground and 
thus during summer and fall we find com¬ 
paratively few flowers in the woods. None 
of our spring flowers come from seed: 
they all rise from some underground struc¬ 
ture such as a tuber, rootstock, or bulb, a 
structure which is really a storehouse of 
food, the food being stored up by the end 
of one spring ready for use in producing 
leaves and flowers the following spring. 
When a seed of one of these plants ger¬ 
minates the young plant makes very slow 
growth at first and it is always two, some¬ 
times three or four, years before it pro¬ 
duces flowers. This accounts for the large 
patches of leaves of the Yellow Adder’s- 
tongue, and the comparatively few flowers 
found in these patches, as most of the 
leaves belong to young plants, which have 
not yet reached the flower-bearing age. 
The Bloodroot is a dainty little flower, 
and when it first appears above ground the 
leaf is tightly wrapped about the bud. 
Soon the bud shows like a pearl emerging 
from the rolled leaf, and later the petals 
expand, opening on bright sunny mornings 
and closing in the afternoons and remain¬ 
ing closed on dull days. In the stems and 
rootstock of this plant is an orange-red 
juice, which gives the plant its name and 
which was at one time used by the Indians 
as war-paint. 
One of the most stately flowers of the 
spring woods is the large White Trillium, 
a species which is sometimes abundant 
enough to whiten the woodland landscape. 
A very interesting plant is the Jack-in- 
the-Pulpit, or Indian Turnip. It is at¬ 
tractive because it differs widely from most 
of our flowers. The outer sheath (the 
Pulpit) is really a leaf rolled round the 
central axis (Jack) and protecting the 
minute flowers which are borne on this 
central portion. Later in the season the 
leaves die down and all that remains of 
the plant is the stem bearing at its apex a 
cluster of bright scarlet berries, and at this 
time many who are familiar with the plant 
when in flower do not recognize their old 
friend of the springtime. 
