In the roadside thickets, as the summer wanes, the berry clusters of the
shrubby viburnums turn red, and soften, and in September change to a
vivid, or a dark blue. They are very pretty on their coral red stems, and
look like little plums. Indeed, they are not unpleasant to taste, but it
is the birds who delight in these sweetish, juicy berries, and we are
willing that they should have them all. The names, sheepberry and
nannyberry, are given to these little trees, because sheep are said to
browse on the foliage and shoots in spring.
The blue berries of the sassafras, also on coral red stems, are not
unlike those of the viburnums in appearance, but fewer in a cluster. The
birds take them eagerly before they are fully ripe. To leave them until
they ripen would be to lose them to other birds.
[Illustration: Cone fruits of (1) a birch, (2) a pine, (3) a magnolia,
and (4) a fir]
[Illustration: Clusters of the winged seeds of hornbeam and white ash]
The dogwood berries are redder than the whorl of leaves that surround the
fruit clusters in early October. These waxy berries have taken the place
of the central cluster of small flowers, which were surrounded in spring
by the four large, white bracts.
It is the birds who first accept the invitation of these little trees.
The migrating hosts turn southward in September, and in October the bird
procession is in full swing. We hear them overhead, often so high in air
that we cannot see them. Tired of the long flight, they descend for food
and water, and if the neighbourhood has many fruiting dogwood trees, the
joy of the winged voyagers is correspondingly great. In a surprisingly
short time the hungry birds have taken the last one.
Far in the winter we shall find red berries glowing in clusters on the
mountain ash trees, among the evergreen holly leaves, and in conical
spikes on the sumachs. The winter birds ignore these dry, insipid seeds,
until everything else is gone. Frequently, when winter snows cover up all
other foods, the berries of these two trees stand between the birds and
actual starvation. So it happens that many a mountain ash is stripped of
its fruit during the early days of March, and the holly berries which
have glowed red all winter disappear for the same reason. The sumachs are
rarely stripped as closely as the other two.
In September the hackberry hangs full of its sugary fruits. It is
surprising to find a tree which looks like an elm, yet bearing soft,
purple berries. But this, we shall learn, is the hackberry’s way. Under
each leaf a long thread grows, on the end of which is a single, oblong
berry, the size of a pea, but not the same shape. The fruit hangs on late
into the winter, if the birds will permit such a thing, and it is a
grateful supply of food to birds that winter in the North. If there were
no other reason for planting hackberry trees, they are worth having as
fruit trees for the refreshment of birds.
The autumn colour of hackberry leaves is yellow. The purple fruits make
little show, until the leaves fall. The bark of the tree is its chief
peculiarity. On the trunk it is deeply checked into small, thick, warty
plates. The branches are often ridged and broken into warty excrescences
that stand close together.
The leaves are peculiar. There is no other tree that has not a main vein,
or a rib, which prolongs the leaf stem straight to the tip. The hackberry
leaf stem divides into three equal branches at the base. The two side
branches are shorter than the middle one, but their size is unusual.
It is in autumn, of course, that the hackberry earns its name,
sugarberry. The bark will guide us to the tree at any season. The leaves
fix in mind another important family trait. The berries we may safely
taste to find out if they are as sugary as we are led to expect.
Nettle tree is the common name of the European hackberry. You may have
read of the lotus-eaters, who, tasting the sweet fruit of this little
tree, straightway forgot their native land, and could not be persuaded to
return. The wood is tough and peculiarly adapted to make the handles of
hayforks, and similar agricultural implements. Young trees are grown for
these uses. The roots remain alive and send up suckers, slender but tall.
These are cut for walking sticks, whipstocks, and ramrods for guns. Older
trees furnish wood, as hard as box or holly, and beautiful as satinwood
when polished. This is a material which the wood-carvers delight to use.
The tree is widely planted for shade, and its leaves are used as fodder
for cattle.
Bad as its reputation is, according to the tradition that its fruit had
power to rob men of their patriotism, yet this is one of the most useful
little trees. It grows easily, and is contented on land that is worthless
for other purposes.
Besides the hackberry, another big tree in our woods bears a crop of
purple berries in September. That is the wild black cherry. The bark of
this tree is dark brown and shining, and satiny smooth on the branches.
It breaks on the trunk into rough, squarish plates, which curl
horizontally at the edges. The plates still retain the silky outer bark,
whose fibres run crosswise, and whose surface has many slit-like,
horizontal breathing holes.
We are strongly reminded of the birches, especially the cherry birch,
which has dark-coloured bark, and has its name from its resemblance to
this tree. The thin young bark of the black cherry curls in a very
birch-like fashion. One difference is very marked. The bark of the cherry
is bitter, with the flavour of the pit of a peach or cherry. Birch bark
is pleasantly aromatic in flavour.
The fruit of the black cherry is more plentiful than that of the
hackberry. The close-set side shoots on the new twigs end in fruit
clusters two or three inches long, and often containing a dozen berries
each. The sweet pulp is flavoured with the bitter taste of cherry pits, a
flavour found in the sap of this tree. Nibble the bark, or a bit of
cherry wood, a leaf, or the tip of the root, and you get the same Prussic
acid taste.
I do not like wild black cherries, but many people do. Children and birds
seem not to notice the bitter with the sweet. They eat the berries as
soon as they change colour, with evident enjoyment.
Cherry brandies and cordials are made from the fruit by people who rely
upon old-fashioned home remedies. These are the people who chew the
bitter opening buds of the wild cherry in spring, as they drink sassafras
tea, believing that spring is the time to clear the blood, and that
Nature offers free remedies far better than they can buy in bottles.
We cannot wonder that wild cherry trees spring up in the woods, in fence
corners, and along roadsides. The birds are feasting in the trees each
autumn, and until the last berry is taken. They are the sowers of the
seed.
Our greatest objection to the wild cherry is the fact that its shining
young leaves are regarded by the apple tree tent caterpillars as
particularly good. When the white blossom clusters deck this tree in May,
we often see a web of white silk wrapping together some of the upper
branches. Day by day the web is extended, and the twigs are stripped of
their leaves by the host of caterpillars which return at night to the
tent, and range more widely in the day time. When the tent is as large as
a peach basket, it is found empty, for the caterpillars have descended to
the ground, spun their cocoons, and will soon emerge as winged moths, to
lay their eggs, from which later broods of caterpillars come. The winged
females are very likely to seek the nearest orchard, and lay their eggs
in bands around apple twigs. Many an otherwise harmless roadside wild
cherry is a deadly menace to an orchard because it breeds the insects,
which, in a second generation, become a serious pest among the apple
trees.
In the forest the lumberman is glad to find wild black cherry trees of
large size. The lumber is very valuable for interior finish of houses,
and for furniture. It is hard, and close-grained, and dark reddish-brown
in colour, with a lustre, when polished, that puts it in the class with
mahogany and rosewood. It is more often used nowadays as a veneer on
cheaper woods. Parlour cars and steamships, and fine houses are very
often finished in cherry. The small limbs and other bits of the lumber
are utilised for tool handles and for inlay work. The wood is too
valuable to waste.
The largest berry that grows on a tree in the woods of the United States
is the persimmon. We should mistake this berry for an apple, perhaps,
when we see it for the first time—a little, orange-brown apple, one to
two inches in diameter. But there is no core such as apples have, though
there are from one to a dozen seeds in each fruit.
The persimmon tree is tall, with a handsome round head, and zig-zag,
twisted branches. It grows from Rhode Island west to Kansas and south to
Florida and Texas. It is found scattered in mixed woods, and comes up in
fence rows and in abandoned fields wherever the seeds have been dropped.
Light, sandy soil is this tree’s preference. Although it is a relative of
the ebony of Ceylon, our persimmon is not an important lumber tree. Its
wood is hard, dark-brown in colour, and is used for shoe lasts, tool
handles, and various other small articles.
In the South the persimmon ranks among the choicest of fruit trees. The
negro and the possum await the ripening of the ’simmons with eager eyes,
and the Southerner, born and bred, confesses an equal interest in this
native fruit. There is a long waiting period between the time when the
persimmons change colour from green to reddish-yellow and the time when
the frost mellows and sweetens the pulp, and takes away the harsh,
puckery taste which draws the lips and chokes the throat as if the fruit
were a lump of alum. The Northerner who judges by its appearance only,
dares to taste this fruit before it is ripe. He cannot be persuaded to
try it again. And he cannot understand the enthusiasm for persimmons that
all people in the South feel.
A ’simmon tree, when the fruit is ripe, belongs to the first comer. The
negro and the opossum come into direct competition for the fruit of this
tree. You might think the negro would kill the opossum, and be rid of his
rival. He knows too much for that. “’Possum an’ ’simmons come together,
and bofe is good fruit.” Better divide the ’simmons with the ’possum and
his family. Then get the fat ’possum for the Christmas dinner. There is
no ’possum like the one that is fattened on persimmons, so it pays to be
patient and leave the beast his share of the fruit.
In a hollow tree, or a woodpile, the opossums sleep by day, and trail out
in companies to climb the persimmon trees at night to feast. They hang by
their tails on the branches, or prop themselves in crotches of the limbs
within easy reach of the soft, sugary berries. The fatter they get, the
lazier they are; and as the season advances, and the fruit falls, the
opossums are likely to satisfy their appetites with the persimmons they
can pick up under the trees. Along about Thanksgiving day, or Christmas,
the day of reckoning arrives, when the negro hunter comes home with the
opossums which have stolen his persimmons. The whole score is wiped out
by the opossum feast, which suitably closes the season.
Persimmons improve, the longer they hang upon the trees. As late as
January or February, little trees scarcely a dozen feet high, which have
been overlooked in the ’simmon harvest, are found to be still hung with
fruits exceptionally large and fine. To the hungry and thirsty hunter,
prowling for quail in the underbrush, these unexpected fruits are a
delightful surprise. They are delicious, sugary lumps, rich in flavour,
and juicy, taking away both hunger and thirst, and leaving no after-taste
that is bitter or puckery, suggesting their unripe stage.
Japanese persimmon trees, whose fruit is larger and better in every
respect than our native species, have been successfully introduced into
California and the Southern states. These persimmons look like great ripe
tomatoes as we see them on the fruit stands, but these, too, must wait
until they are thoroughly ripe before they are fit to eat.