UP THE RIVER
The thunder-clouds thickened until the whole sky was black; the tide
rose in great waves, and the children were glad to be in the house. But
the storm played so many strange pranks that they could not keep away
from the windows, asking a hundred questions about things that cannot be
put in a bird book.
"If the water keeps up on end, as it is doing now," said Olaf, "it will
be a week before I dare take you over to Gull Island; but I was talking
to a man from up the river yesterday, and he says the reed shallows are
full of Rails--maybe you'd like to see them."
"Rails, what are they?" asked Nat. "I thought rails were the steel
things that cars run on, or else some kind of fence bars."
"The Rails that Olaf speaks of are marsh birds," said the Doctor. "Some
are about as big as Robins, and some are bigger still, shaped like
long-legged, long-necked, bob-tailed Hens, with long curved beaks. In
fact, some members of the family are called Marsh Hens from this
resemblance. Olaf often guides gunners through the waterways to find
these birds; he shall take you also, and perhaps you may find some old
Marsh Wrens' nests at the same time."
The next morning was clear and warm, and the children tumbled out in
their flannel bathing-suits to have a dip before breakfast. Rap, by
rolling over and over on the sand, was in the water as soon as Nat; but
they did not venture out far, even though the tide was low, contenting
themselves by splashing about in shallow places.
[Illustration: Turnstone.]
Presently Nat spied something on the stony end of the bar that stretched
out at the right of the beach, and pointed it out to Rap, who said:
"They are some sort of birds: you had better get the glass, for even if
we could go nearer to them, they would be sure to see us and skip." Then
Nat brought the glass and they each took a peep.
"The bodies are like speckled Pullets', but the heads are like Pigeons'
and the legs are very thin," said Rap. "See! there is a different one,
ever so much nearer over on this side, but I can't make him out very
well. Here comes the Doctor, all ready to go in swimming; of course he
can tell us."
"Those mottled birds with red legs are Turnstones," said the Doctor,
after looking a moment. "They are wading shore birds, who run about the
rock bars and sandy beaches, turning over small stones for the food that
is hidden underneath. They very seldom come into bays like this, but
keep more on the outer beaches. The other one, with black under parts
and dark back finely speckled with yellow, is the Golden Plover, who
often visits our beaches and marshy meadows."
"Do either of them ever nest up the river?" asked Dodo.
"No, indeed--you would have to travel many hundreds of miles to find the
lonely Arctic beaches they both call home. They only come this way
before they take the long fall journey to South America, where they
winter; and in the spring-time they are usually in too great a hurry to
stop."
"What do they look like very near by?" asked Dodo, who always wanted
details, while the boys took a more general sportsmanlike interest.
[Illustration: American Golden Plover.]
"The Turnstone is very trim and pretty when seen close at hand, and from
the pattern of the feathers is often called Calico-bird. The Golden
Plover is darker and not so conspicuously marked, especially at this
season."
The Turnstone
Length nine and a half inches.
In summer: Upper parts boldly variegated with black, white, and
reddish-brown; tail black, with white base and tip. Under parts white,
with large black marks on the breast. Bill and eyes black; feet orange,
with a very small hind toe. In winter: Without the bright,
reddish-brown markings, which are gray; and with not so much black,
which is also duller.
A Citizen of North America, making its summer home only in the Arctic
regions, but at other seasons travelling almost all over the world; we
see it mostly when it is migrating, in spring and fall, along the
sea-coast.
A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, who gleans its food
industriously on beaches, and is very fond of the eggs of
horseshoe-crabs.
The American Golden Plover
Length ten and a half inches.
In summer: Upper parts blackish, all spangled with yellow of the tint of
old gold, white forehead and a line over the eye. Under parts nearly all
jet black, but sides of the breast pure white, and lining of the wings
gray. Tail barred with white and gray. Bill and feet black. Only three
toes, there being no sign of a hind toe, which almost all Plovers also
lack. Bill shaped like a Pigeon's.
In winter: Without any pure black on the under parts, which are muddy
whitish mixed and marbled with gray.
A Citizen of North America, whose summer home is with the Turnstone in
the far North, and who travels to South America every fall and back
again in the spring. We mostly see it in flocks on these journeys.
A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, and a fine game bird, whose
delicately flavored meat is a great luxury for invalids; it is therefore
right for sportsmen to shoot Golden Plovers in the fall.
"Do tell us some more about paddling and wading birds," said Dodo,
forgetting that she was in her sopping-wet bathing-dress.
"Break--fast! Break--fast! Come in--come in--come in!" called the big
bell that Rap's mother was ringing at the cabin door. And the morning
itself was hardly brighter than the smile on her face at the sight of
her lame boy's happiness. "Hurry along and dress, you little
Sandpipers, for by and by we are going up the river," said the Doctor.
"Why do you call us Sandpipers, Uncle Roy?" asked Nat.
"Because Sandpipers are long-legged little birds that run along the
water's edge, where they patter about and whistle, but can't swim." And
they all raced laughing up to the cabin, Rap saying cheerfully, "Then
I'm not a Sandpiper, for I hop like a Robin instead of running."
In the afternoon, Olaf had the sharpie (which is a flat sharp-nosed boat
with two masts) ready with a little dingey tied on behind, and when the
tide rose the party went aboard. First he headed well out into the bay,
and then tacked to enter the river where the channel was deepest. The
river, which was the same that ran through the woods above the Farm, was
caught in a corner to make the mill-pond, and finally escaping, ran
along for many miles until the bay opened its wide arms to receive it.
"What are those birds over there?" cried Nat, pointing toward the outer
beacon. "Some look like white Crows, and the others go zigzag like big
Barn Swallows. Are there any such things as water Swallows, Uncle Roy?"
"Not exactly--both the birds you see belong to the Swimmers. The larger
ones are Herring Gulls, and the smaller ones are Terns. But your guess
is not a bad one, for all Terns are also called Sea Swallows, because of
their dashing flight. Both Gulls and Terns nest on Gull Island, where
Olaf is going to take us some day when the water is smooth. The storm
has driven some of them into the bay, where they do not usually come
until later in the year; but in winter great flocks of Gulls live about
our beach, clamming on the bar at every low tide."
"I guess we had better tie up yonder," said Olaf, when they had gone a
couple of miles up the river. "And then I can put the children in the
little boat and pole them in among the reeds."
So the Doctor and Olive went ashore, where the sharpie was tied to the
end of what had once been a small wharf, while Dodo, Nat, and Rap
crouched down in the dingey, obeying Olaf's order to keep very still and
not make the boat tip.
The little reed-bordered creek that they entered was quite narrow, and
soon grew to be only a thread of water, where they could touch the reeds
on both sides. They heard many rustling sounds, but for some time could
see nothing. Olaf, who was watching, suddenly laid down his pole, and
seizing an oar gave the water two or three sharp slaps. Instantly half a
dozen strange-looking birds started out, flapping and sprawling, with
their legs dangling, one or two seeming to slide across the water, till
they all disappeared among the flags again.
"Oh! how funny they are!" cried Nat. "They have such foolish-looking
faces, little perky tails like a Wren's, and such long, loose feet! Why
didn't they fly instead of dodging about so--are their nests in the
reeds?"
"They do nest here; but now that the season is over, they stay about
picking up food from the mud until they shift southward a piece for the
winter. These Rails fly well enough when they once get started, and go
a long way without stopping. But they are lazy about it in their summer
homes, where they only flap up and then dodge down again to hide; so
they are easy shooting--too easy to be any sport. It's what I call
killing, not hunting."
[Illustration: Virginia Rail.]
"What a strange note they have," said Rap. "Something like a
Woodpecker's call."
"Yes, but you should hear the noise they make in spring, when there are
crowds of birds along the river and back in the meadows. The Redwings
and Meadowlarks sing all day long, the Marsh Wrens come along to join
in, the Snipe begin to call, the Spotted Sandpipers whistle up, and we
get a visit from the Wild Geese as they fly north. I tell you it is fine
to be down here then. But in fall I'd rather be up at the lake by the
lumber camp when the snow brings the foxes and other wild animals out."
"Do stop a minute, please, Olaf, and don't tell quite so fast," pleaded
Dodo. "Uncle Roy never does. You have said the names of ever so many
birds that we don't know, and when he does that he always stops and
explains. Snipe and Spotted Sandpipers--please begin with those."
Olaf thought for a minute. He knew all the game and water birds--in
fact, they were intimate friends of his; but it was not so easy for him
to describe them.
"Did you ever see a Woodcock?" he began.
"Yes, oh yes!" cried Nat. "Uncle Roy showed us a stuffed one in the
wonder room, and told us all about its long beak with a point like a
finger to feel for its food in the mud because its eyes are too far back
to see well in front, and all about its sky dance; and Rap has seen one
sitting on its nest in a spring snowstorm."
"Well, the Snipe that comes about here belongs to the same family, and
also pokes in the mud for its food; that is why it likes to live near
fresh water like the Woodcock, where the mud is soft, rather than on the
sea-shore, where the sand is gritty. It's a mighty shy bird and doesn't
tell any one what it means to do. I've heard them come calling over the
beach at night sometimes though, and I suspect they go to the muddy
side of the bar to feed, but I've never seen them there. They mostly do
their coming and going at night--and fly high too, even then.
"Sandpipers don't bore in the ground for their food, but just pick it
up; so they keep along the shore of either fresh or salt water, some
kinds choosing one place and some another. The Spotted Sandpiper is
another of the little fellows who sometimes nests back in those meadows.
He is not a bit shy, but runs about as tame as a Robin, and he isn't as
big as a Robin either. Sometimes they lay their eggs in the meadow and
sometimes among the tuft-grass back of the beach. They lay four eggs,
very big at one end and peaked at the other, and put them in the nest
with the pointed ends together in the middle, to take up less room; and
they're sandy-colored, spotted all over. They hang about here all
summer. We call them 'teeters' because they always tip up their tails
and bob so when they run. They whistle like this, 'tweet-weet--tweet-weet!'
[Illustration: Wilson's Snipe.]
"There's another mite of a Sandpiper that comes around here late every
summer, though it nests way up north. It is the very littlest of all,
not bigger than a Sparrow, so pretty and innocent-looking that it ought
to go with Singing Birds and never be shot for food. I've often had
them run along in front of me on the beach, piping as sad as if they
were telling me how little and helpless they were, and begging me to ask
folks not to shoot them."
Then Olaf pushed up the creek a little further, hoping to be able to
land or else reach some Marsh Wrens' nests from the boat. But one nest
was all they could find--a ball of grasses fastened between two cat-tail
flags. Olaf cut the stalks carefully and presented it to Dodo, much to
her delight. Then he paddled back to the river, where they found Olive
waiting with some beautiful pitcher-plants in her hands, while their
uncle said that he had in his handkerchief a strange plant, that ate
insects. But Dodo thought that he was joking, and as soon as they were
in the sharpie she whispered: "Uncle Roy, you must tell me four
tables--Olaf knows the birds by sight, but he doesn't make them sound as
distinct as you do in the telling."
[Illustration: Least Sandpiper.]
"So missy is flattering her old bird man! Well, tell me the names, for I
suppose you can remember them."
"Oh yes--but come to think of it, I don't think Olaf said what the Wise
Men call these birds. One was a bob-tailed Rail--one was a Snipe with
far-back eyes and a finger-beak like a Woodcock's--one was a Spotted
Sandpiper that teeters and whistles 'tweet-weet'--and the other was a
tiny little Sandpiper with a very sad cry. Now do you know them?"
"Famous!" laughed the Doctor; "of course I know them after that."
"Do they all belong to the same family?" persisted Dodo, whose little
head was beginning to swim with all this new knowledge it had to hold.
"Not all of them. The Snipe and both the Sandpipers belong to one
family, the same as that of the Woodcock; but the Rail belongs to a
different family. So also does the Plover you learned this morning. The
three families of Snipes, Plovers, and Rails are the largest ones of all
the tribe of Birds that Paddle and Wade by the sea-shore. The Rails from
their size and shape are sometimes called Marsh Hens. The Turnstone
belongs to a fourth family, but it is a very small one. Now I will give
you the tables of the four kinds of birds you have learned this
afternoon."
[Illustration: Spotted Sandpiper.]
Wilson's Snipe
Length about eleven inches, of which the very long and straight bill
makes more than two inches.
Upper parts all mixed with black, brown, gray, buff, and white in very
intricate patterns; long wing-feathers plain dusky with a white edge on
the outside one; tail-feathers beautifully barred with black, white, and
reddish.
Under parts white, but mottled with dusky on the breast, where it also
tinged with buff, and barred very distinctly on each side further back;
under tail-coverts barred with buff and black.
Eyes brown; feet and bill greenish-gray, the latter very soft and
sensitive, the former with a very small hind toe.
A Citizen of temperate North America, found at different seasons in
marshy and boggy places throughout the United States.
A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, and, like the Woodcock and
Golden Plover, a fine game bird, which it is right to shoot for food at
the proper season.
The Spotted Sandpiper
Length seven and a half inches.
Upper parts a pretty Quaker color, like the Cuckoo's, but with many fine
curved black lines; tail regularly barred with black and white.
Under parts pure white, with many round black spots all over them; but
young birds do not have any spots.
Bill and feet flesh-colored, the former with a black tip, the latter
with a very small hind toe, and a little web at the roots of the front
toes.
A Summer Citizen of most parts of the United States and Canada, also
found in winter in some of the Southern States and far beyond.
A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, and a very gentle, confiding
little bird who likes to be neighborly, and should never be shot, but
encouraged to nest in our fields.
The Least Sandpiper
Length only five and a half to six inches--the very least in size of all
the Snipe family. Upper parts black or blackish, in summer with
rusty-red edgings and white tips of many feathers, in winter these
edgings gray, a light line over the eye and a dark line from the bill to
the eye.
Under parts white, tinged in summer with buff on the breast and at all
seasons mottled there with dusky.
Middle tail feathers blackish, the other ones plain gray with white
edgings, but without any black cross-bars. Bill black; feet
greenish-gray, with a small hind toe like other Sandpipers', but no sign
of any web at the roots of the front toes.
A Citizen of North America, nesting far north, beyond the United States,
and travelling in large flocks in the fall to the West Indies and South
America.
A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners. It belongs to a family of game
birds, but it is a shame to shoot such a mite of a bird for the morsel
of meat its tiny body affords--hardly one mouthful.
There is a brother of the Least Sandpiper, hardly any bigger, and so
much like it that you can hardly tell them apart, unless you notice that
this one has two little webs between the roots of the front toes. This
is the Semipalmated Sandpiper, for _semipalmated_ means "half-webbed,"
as its toes are. Both kinds are called "Peeps" by people who do not know
the difference between them.
The Virginia Rail
Length nine and half inches, of which the long, slender, curved bill
makes an inch and a half.
Upper parts mixed blackish and blown, growing brighter reddish-brown on
the wings, a light line over the eye and a dark one through the eye.
Under parts mostly cinnamon color, but distinctly barred with black and
white on the sides behind and under the tail and wings, the chin
whitish.
Feet big and clumsy, with very long toes in front--about as long as the
bill.
A Citizen of temperate North America, nesting in the Northern States and
wintering in some of the Southern States.
A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, who does us no harm and not
much good, though it is a sort of game bird whose flesh is palatable,
and it may be shot in the fall. It is not neighborly and is seldom seen,
as it lives only in the thickest reeds or herbage of marshy places,
where it can run over the softest mud, or even floating plants, by means
of its long spreading toes, which keep it from slumping in.
"To-morrow, when the tide begins to come in, we are going to fish for
bluefish!" interrupted Nat joyfully. "Olaf says they are beginning to
run, and there are lots of crabs to catch up in the creek too--only I'm
afraid that there won't be half time enough for everything."
"How can fish run when they have no legs?" objected Dodo, who had not
quite finished writing her tables and did not like to be hurried. And
then, too, she was a little lady who took things literally, and liked to
have them exactly right.