The yellow-bellied sapsucker is the only member of the woodpecker
family whose presence is objectionable. His habit of puncturing the
bark of trees and then visiting the cups to catch the sap, is well
known. At any time of the year, row after row of these holes may be
seen on fruit-trees (usually apple and pear)--written evidence of his
guilt. See if you can catch him in the act.
April Twenty-sixth
Turkey buzzards, or vultures, are repulsive and ungainly when on the
ground, but they are by far the most graceful of all our large birds
when in flight. They are rarely seen in New England, or in the Northern
States of the Middle Atlantic group, but in the South they are common
throughout the year. Mounting high in the air, they circle 'round and
'round with scarcely a flutter of the wings, but nervously tilting to
right or left, like a tight-rope walker with his balancing pole.
April Twenty-seventh
This is about the time that young red foxes get their first sight of
the wide, wide world. In the Southern States they have been prowling
about with their parents for weeks; but north of New York City the
farmer's boy, as he now goes for the cows in the morning, will
frequently see a fox family playing about the entrance to their burrow.
[Illustration: FOX AT DEN.]
Notes
April Twenty-eighth
So ruthlessly has the trailing arbutus, or "May-flower" as it is called
in New England, been destroyed, that in places where it was once
common, it is now almost extinct. Of its odor, Neltje Blanchan says:
"Can words describe the fragrancy of the very breath of spring--that
delicious commingling of the perfumes of arbutus, the odors of pines,
and the snow-soaked soil just warming into life?"
April Twenty-ninth
Why are the robins so abundant? Because they are all pushing forward
to their Northern nesting grounds. Even in Alaska you would find a few
pairs that have made the long, perilous journey in safety, raising
their young in the balsam-poplars along some glacial stream, while in
Georgia and Florida, where large flocks of them winter, not one would
now be seen.
April Thirtieth
If you will sow a few sunflower seeds in a corner of the garden and
let the plants go to seed, in the fall you are sure to have feathered
visitors in the shape of goldfinches, chickadees, and nuthatches. The
nuthatches (no doubt thinking of the hard times to come) will carry the
seeds away, and store them in the crevices of the bark of trees.
Notes
=May=
May First
Of uniform grayish color, swift in flight, and shaped like cigars with
wings, the chimney swifts might well be called the torpedo boats of the
air. They never alight outside of chimneys or old buildings, and are
usually seen flying high above the house-tops. For hours they chase
each other through the air, keeping up a continuous "_chip, chip, chip,
chip, chip, chip_," whenever the participants of the game come near
each other.
May Second
No sooner does the frost leave the ground, than the moles begin to
work close to the surface, making ridges where the earth is soft, and
throwing out small mounds, when it is packed firm. The star-nose mole
inhabits damp soil, while the common mole likes the dry highlands.
Although moles' eyes are small, he who thinks that they cannot see,
should hold his finger before one's nose and see how quickly it will be
bitten.
May Third
The marsh marigold, which grows in thick clusters in the swamps and
along the streams, is now in full bloom. These flowers are often sold
on the streets for "cowslips," a name wholly incorrect. The leaves make
fine greens.
[Illustration: CHIMNEY SWIFT.]
Notes
May Fourth
By this time one of your bird houses should be tenanted by a pair of
house wrens. They migrate at night and the male arrives about a week
in advance of his mate. Both birds assist in building the nest and in
raising the young. As soon as the first brood has been reared, the
lining of the nest is removed, and a new one built before the second
set of six eggs is laid. Wrens may easily be tamed to take spiders and
caterpillars (not the hairy ones) from the end of a stick and even from
one's hand.
May Fifth
How much easier would be the work of nest building if we provided the
birds with nesting material. Scatter strips of cloth, and pieces of
coarse twine on the ground for the robins; hair from the tail and mane
of horses for the chipping sparrows and wrens; twine and horse-hair for
the orioles; bits of "waste" for the yellow warblers, and grapevine
bark for the catbirds. None of these strands should be more than four
inches long.
May Sixth
In some localities the shad-tree is now in full blossom. As
you pause to cut off a few twigs, your ears are greeted by a never
ceasing chorus of toad music. This is the toad's "love song"--a
high-pitched, somewhat tremulous, and rather monotonous note.
[Illustration: Photograph by J. Alden Loring.
ONE OF TOUR BIRD-HOUSES SHOULD BE TENANTED BY A WREN.]
Notes
May Seventh
Perched upon a stump, fence post, or low limb of a tree, the Bob-white
sends forth his clear, far-reaching whistle "_Bob-white_." In the North
this bird is known to every boy as Bob-white, or quail, while in the
South he is called "partridge." The last two names are misnomers, for
we have no native quails or partridges in this country.
May Eighth
The fronds of the sensitive fern resemble somewhat the leaves of the
oak-tree, and in some localities it is called the oak-leaf fern. It
is found in damp, shady spots, and is one of the common ferns of New
England. The delicate, light green leaves wither soon after being
picked, and it is the first of the ferns to fall under the touch of
Jack Frost.
May Ninth
A low, squeaking sound made with the lips is understood by some birds
as a signal of distress. Orioles, wrens, catbirds, cuckoos, warblers,
vireos, robins, and many other birds may be called close to one,
particularly if the intruder is near their nest. You should learn this
trick, for often it is possible to coax a shy bird from a thicket in
order that it may be identified.
Notes
May Tenth
In summer the most common of our Northern wood warblers, yet one of
the most difficult to see, on account of its liking for the tops of
the tall trees, is the black-throated green warbler. Its song is a
cheerful, interrogative, "_Will you co-ome, will you co-ome, will
you?_" (Wright), or "a droning zee, zee, ze-ee, zee." (Chapman and
Reed.)
May Eleventh
Why is it that the usually frisky and noisy red squirrels have become
so quiet? If you could look into the nest of dried grass and bark,
in a hollow tree-trunk, or a deserted woodpecker's nest, you would
understand their reason for not wishing to make their presence known.
Keep close watch of the opening, and some day you will see several
little heads appear, and in a few days a family of squirrels will be
scrambling about the trees. Pretty and graceful as these squirrels are,
they do great damage by destroying the eggs and young of birds.
May Twelfth
Wintering south of Central America, the veery, or Wilson's thrush,
should now appear in the vicinity of Albany. "A weird rhythm" is the
expression sometimes used to describe the song of this bird. Weird it
certainly is, and beautiful, as well, coming from the depths of some
sombre wood, growing more sombre still as the night falls.
Notes
May Thirteenth
The wood thrush is much larger than the veery, and easily distinguished
from the six other species of true thrushes of North America, by the
_large black spots on the breast, and the bright cinnamon head_. As
you listened for the veery, you probably heard the wood thrush's pure
liquid song--so far away that you could not catch the low after-notes.
To me, the flute-like quality of the wood thrush's song makes it the
most enchanting of all bird music.
May Fourteenth
At intervals during the day, a distinct booming sound is heard coming
from the forests. At first the beats are slow and measured, but as
they are repeated the time quickens, until they finally blend, and
then gradually die away. This is the "drumming" of the ruffed grouse,
produced by the cock bird beating with his wings against the sides of
his body. At this time of the year it is his love song, but you can
hear it at other seasons as well.
May Fifteenth
Visit again the locality where a week ago you heard so many toads, and
what do you find? Long strings of gelatine-covered specks strewn on the
bottom of the pond. These black spots are the eggs of the toad, and the
gelatine is put around them to protect them and to furnish the first
meal for the young polywogs.
Notes
May Sixteenth
To find a hummingbird's nest, snugly saddled on a branch of a maple
or apple tree, ten feet or more above the ground, requires patience
and keen eyesight. Unless you have seen one, you almost surely would
mistake it for a bunch of lichens. It is a neat little structure of
downy material covered with bits of lichens, fastened with spider and
caterpillar webs.
May Seventeenth
It would interest you to visit a zoological park to
study the growing antlers of a deer or an elk. A pair of black antlers,
"in the velvet," as the hunters call it, have taken the place of the
bony-colored ones shed in March. Just now they are somewhat flexible,
and feverishly hot from the steady flow of blood that feeds them. If
they are injured at this time, the owner might bleed to death.
May Eighteenth
"_Caw, caw, caw, ka, ka, ka, ka-k-k-k-r-r-r-r_." It sounds as though a
crow were being strangled. Looking in that direction you see a large
black bird fly from the woods to a meadow. After filling her beak with
food she returns. No sooner is she within sight of the young crows,
than they flap their wings, open their mouths and _caw_ until the
stifled, guttural sounds tell you that the morsel is being swallowed.
Notes
May Nineteenth
When perched or flying the bobolink sends forth his jolly song in such
a flood of ecstasy that you would scarcely be surprised to see him
suddenly explode and vanish in a cloud of feathers. Would that we could
overlook the damage he does to Southern rice crops.
May Twentieth
Before now you have noticed the dainty little
Jack-in-the-pulpit in the damp, shady woods and marshes. Would you
suppose that this innocent looking plant is really an insect trap? The
thick fleshy "corm" when boiled is quite palatable, but who would think
so after digging it from the ground, cutting into it, and feeling the
sharp prickly sensation it gives when touched with the tongue?
May Twenty-first
The song of the brown thrasher can easily be mistaken for that of a
catbird, particularly as both birds inhabit roadways, thickets, and
open brush lots. The male, while singing to his mate, nearly always
perches _in the top_ of a tall bush or tree. His song is a disconnected
combination of pleasant musical tones, which might be arranged so as to
sound thrush-like in effect, but they are usually uttered in pairs or
trios, rather than in the modulated phrase of the hermit or the wood
thrush.
[Illustration: Photograph by J. Alden Loring.
MALE BOBOLINK IN SUMMER PLUMAGE.]
Notes
May Twenty-second
Look intently at the bottom of shallow streams or ponds and you will
see what appear to be small twigs and sandy lumps moving about like
snails. These are the larvæ of the caddis fly. Pick up one and poke the
creature with a straw. You now discover that it lives in a case made of
gravel, or sand, or tiny shells, or pieces of bark, all glued together
in a perfect mask.
May Twenty-third
Keep watch of any brown bird about the size and shape of a female
English sparrow, that you see hopping about the trees and bushes,
peeping under bridges, and looking into hollow limbs of trees. She is
a cowbird, or cow bunting, looking for the nest of another bird who is
away for the moment. When she finds one, she will slip into it and drop
one of her eggs, which will be hatched and the birdling reared by the
foster mother, unless she can manage to get rid of it.
May Twenty-fourth
The Greeks were persistent in their belief that the harmless red, or
fire salamander, found only in damp and shady places, was insensible
to heat. In reality the reverse is true. Its delicate skin cannot even
withstand the sun's rays. During sunny days it hides under leaves and
logs, coming forth only after storms, or at night.
Notes
May Twenty-fifth
If there are currant or gooseberry bushes about your grounds, you
must know the yellow warbler, or summer yellowbird. He is the little
chap, almost pure yellow, who hunts carefully under each leaf for the
caterpillars that attack the bushes. The female lacks the reddish
streaks on the under parts, and her crown is not as bright as that of
the male. Do not confuse this bird with the male American goldfinch,
which just now has a yellow body, but black crown, wings, and tail.
May Twenty-sixth
Quite unlike the strings of beady eggs of the toad, the eggs of the
frogs are attached in a bulky mass to sticks or to the limbs of
aquatic plants in sluggish or stagnant water. But there is the same
gelatine-like casing around each black egg.
May Twenty-seventh
In the Northern States, where he nests, the redstart is often seen
in the shade-trees along our streets, as well as in the groves and
forests. "'_Ching, ching, chee; ser-wee, swee, swee-e-s_' he sings, and
with wings and tail outspread whirls about, dancing from limb to limb,
darts upward, floats downward, blows hither and thither like a leaf in
the breeze." (Chapman.)
Notes
May Twenty-eighth
In the evening you often see a chimney swift (it is not a _swallow_)
flying back and forth over dead tree-tops. Each time it pauses as
though about to alight, but after what seems to be a momentary
hesitation, it passes on. With a field-glass you might detect it
snapping off the twigs and carrying them into an unused chimney, where
it fastens them to the bricks with a glutinous saliva. One after
another the twigs are glued together until a bracket-like basket is
made, and in this the four white eggs are laid.
May Twenty-ninth
It is now time to look in the meadows for the dainty blue-eyed grass,
or blue star; in the marshes for the purple or water avens, and the
white hellebore, or Indian poke; and in the damp shady woods for the
blossoming mandrake, or Mayapple.
May Thirtieth
Judging from the name, one might expect to find the pewee, or wood
pewee, in the woods only, but his high plaintive "_P-e-w-e-e,
p-e-w-e-e_," first rising, then falling, coming from the tops of the
village shade-trees, is one of the last notes heard at the close of the
day. Short as the song is, he frequently sings but half of it.
Notes
May Thirty-first
Birds are often great sufferers from heat. The open bill, drooping
wings, and panting body, all testify to this fact. A bird sitting on
an unshaded nest during a hot day is an object for our pity. Fill
flower-pot saucers with fresh water, and place them in depressions
about the grounds. The birds will get great relief from these drinking
and bathing dishes, and your opportunity for observation will be
increased.
Notes
=June=
June First
One night last summer, a moth laid a circular cluster of eggs at the
end of a limb. Not many days ago the eggs hatched and the caterpillars
have begun to spin a silk tent in the crotch of several branches. Every
time these tent caterpillars (for that is their name) go out to feed
upon the leaves, they spin a thread by which they find their way home.
After they have eaten their fill, they will drop to the ground to seek
a hiding-place and there turn into moths.
June Second
The fertile fronds of the cinnamon fern break ground before the
sterile ones come up. They _appear_ to shoot from the centre of the
crown-shaped cluster, and are light cinnamon color when mature. By the
last of June the fertile fronds have withered, leaving only the sterile
ones which the amateur is quite sure to confuse with the interrupted
fern.
June Third
While driving in the country your attention is often drawn to the
swallows that are flying about the barns. Two species are common, one
has _two long tail feathers that fork_. This is the _barn swallow_, and
his mate builds her nest _inside_ the barn, _on a rafter_ or _against
the planking_. It is always _open on top_ and lined with soft material.
[Illustration: BARN SWALLOW.]
Notes
June Fourth
The eave swallow _lacks the forked tail_, and the rump is
cinnamon-buff. Usually the female builds her globular shaped mud nest
_under the eaves_ of an unpainted barn. Hundreds of mud pellets are
neatly welded together and an opening is left in the front. As these
swallows also build against cliffs, they are known as cliff swallows in
some localities.
June Fifth
The nesting season is now at its height, and you will soon see young
birds about the grounds. The old birds may be away looking for food.
Let us remember that it is better to let Nature work out her own
problems. Instead of catching the birdlings and forcing them to eat
unnatural food (only to find them dead a few hours later), put them
back into the nest when it is possible, or if they are strong enough,
toss them into the air and let them flutter to the branches of a tree
beyond the reach of cats.
June Sixth
This is about the time that turtles hunt for a sandy bank in which to
make a depression where they may deposit their eggs--that look so much
like ping-pong balls. The eggs are covered with sand and left for the
sun to hatch. The young dig through the shallow covering and take to
the water.
Notes
June Seventh
If you wish to see one of the most gorgeous of wood birds, the scarlet
tanager, you must find him now, for, after the nesting season, he loses
his black wings and tail and bright red dress, and dons the sober
green hue of his mate. You will find him living in the maple groves,
and the heavy forests of maple, oak, beech, and chestnut. His song,
though not so loud as either, resembles both that of the robin and the
rose-breasted grosbeak.
June Eighth
In the low-lying meadows, and in the marshes, the towering stems of
the blue flag, or blue iris, have already blossomed. Nature has so
constructed this handsome flower, that were it not for the visits of
bees, and other insects, its seeds would remain unfertilized.
June Ninth
The orchard oriole is far from common north of the States parallel with
southern New York. It migrates to Central America in winter, as does
its cousin, the Baltimore oriole, who is named for Lord Baltimore. It
lives in orchards, and you should look in apple and pear trees for its
graceful pendent nest, built of the stems and blades of grass neatly
woven together, like the nest of a weaver bird.
Notes
June Tenth
When by pure strategy you have outwitted a pair of bobolinks, and have
succeeded in finding their nest, you have indeed achieved a triumph.
To be successful, take your field-glasses, and secrete yourself near a
meadow where you can watch a pair of bobolinks without being seen. Wait
until one or both birds have made repeated trips to a certain spot,
then with eyes riveted on the place, hurry forward, and as the bird
rises, drop your hat on the spot and search carefully about it until
the nest is found.
June Eleventh
The robin, song sparrow, vesper sparrow, chipping sparrow, phoebe,
and house wren by this time have their first fledglings out of the
nest. They usually raise two, and sometimes three broods in a season.
While the father bird is busy caring for the youngsters, the mother is
building another nest or laying a second set of eggs.
June Twelfth
In damp low-lying fields at this season, beds of bog cotton decorate
the landscape. Its silken tassels sway gracefully in the breeze, and at
a distance one could easily mistake them for true flowers.
Notes
June Thirteenth
Although the meadow lark and the flicker are about the same size, and
each has a black patch on its breast, they need never be confused.
The flight, as well as the difference in color, should help in their
identification. The flicker's flight is undulating; while the meadow
lark flies steadily, and the wings move rapidly between short periods
of sailing. Again, the meadow lark's _outer tail feathers_ are white,
while the flicker's _rump_ is white, both of which can be seen when the
birds fly.
June Fourteenth
Visit the pool or waterway where you discovered the toad's eggs and
you will find that they have hatched. The little black polliwogs, or
tadpoles, have eaten their way out of the gelatine prison and are now
schooled at the edge of the water. They subsist upon the decaying
vegetation and minute animal life.
June Fifteenth
Our lawns are now the feeding ground of the first brood of young
robins, great overgrown, gawky, mottle-breasted children, nearly as
large as their parents. What a ludicrous sight it is to see them
following their mother about, flapping their wings, opening their
mouths, and begging for food every time she approaches them.
Notes
June Sixteenth
Leopard frogs and tiger frogs are often found in the tall grass a
mile or so from water. Food is abundant and more easily caught in
such places than along the streams. By the waterways the frog waits
patiently for insects to pass, then springs at one with open mouth and,
whether successful or not, he falls back into the water, swims ashore,
and awaits another morsel.
June Seventeenth
A family of six young belted kingfishers perching on the edge of a
bank, preparatory to taking their first flight, is a laughable sight
indeed. Their immense helmet-like crests, their short legs, and their
steel blue backs, give them a "cocky" appearance, and remind one of a
squad of policemen on dress parade.
June Eighteenth
If the bird observer upon his first birding trip could be introduced to
the song of a winter wren, there is scarcely a doubt that he would be a
bird enthusiast from that minute. Mrs. Florence Merriam Bailey has come
nearest to describing its song; "Full of trills, runs, and grace notes,
it was a tinkling, rippling roundelay."
[Illustration: BELTED KINGFISHER.]
Notes
June Nineteenth
Throughout the mountainous region of the eastern States, the mountain
laurel (spoonwood, broad-leafed kalmia, or calico bush) is in full
blossom. It is a beautiful, sweet-scented, flowering shrub, and the
bushes are ruthlessly destroyed by those who have no regard for
Nature's future beauty.
June Twentieth
The habits of wasps and bees differ widely. Both orders are very
intelligent. Wild bees live in hollow trees and make their cells of
wax. At first they feed their young on "bee bread," which is made from
the pollen of flowers, and afterward on honey. Wasps subsist on the
juices of fruits, and insects; but they will eat meat. They make their
homes in burrows in the ground, or in wood, or they construct nests of
paper or mud.
June Twenty-first
The Maryland yellow-throat is more like a wren than a warbler, but it
belongs to the warbler family. As you pass a thicket or a swamp, he
shouts "_This way sir, this way sir, this way sir_;" or "_Witchety,
witchety, witchety_;" and you might watch for hours without seeing him.
But by placing the back of your hand against your lips, and making a
low squeaking noise, you are likely to bring him to the top of a reed
or bush.
Notes
June Twenty-second
It is quite easy to tell the difference between butterflies and moths.
Remember, first of all, that butterflies are _sunlight_ loving insects,
while moths stir about only on cloudy days, or after dark. Butterflies,
when at rest, hold their wings together over their backs; moths carry
them open and parallel with the body. Again, the antennæ, or "feelers,"
of butterflies are quite club-like in shape, while the "feelers" of
moths inhabiting the United States and Canada resemble tiny feathers.
June Twenty-third
If you are so fortunate as to have a pair of catbirds nesting in a
_small tree_ or a _bush_ near your house, you have learned that the
male is an accomplished songster. Have you ever noticed the father
bird, when perched where he can overlook the nest, gently quivering his
wings as though delighted at the thought of a nest full of little ones?
After the eggs have hatched, these periods of delight are more frequent.
June Twenty-fourth