“HARK, HARK, THE LARK!” 193
THE LITTLE GREEN HERON. (_Ardea virescens._) 194
THE HAND THAT STRUCK THEE DOWN. 197
THE GOBBLER WHO WAS LONESOME. A HISTORICAL FACT. 198
THE VARIED THRUSH. (_Hesperocichla naevia._) 201
MISSOURI SKYLARK. (_Anthus spragueii._) 202
THE MASTER’S PROTEST. 203
THE SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN. (_Cistothorus stellaris._) 204
TWAIN LOVES OF JEREMIAH. 207
THE ORIOLE. 209
THE ORCHARD ORIOLE. 210
THE PRAIRIE WARBLER. (_Dendroica discolor._) 213
APRIL BIRDS AND FLOWERS OF THE MISSISSIPPI GULF COAST. 214
BIRTH STONES. 216
APPLE BLOSSOMS AND THE WARBLERS. 220
RURAL RAMBLES. 222
THE HORSE. (_Equus caballus._) 225
A MELODY. 227
THE VERBENAS. 228
THE BLUE SPRING DAISY. (_Erigeron pulchellus._) 228
THE LITTLE FEATHERED BOYS AND GIRLS. 231
THE COTTON PLANT. (_Gossypium barbadense, L._) 232
THE CLOUD. 236
INDEX. Volume XI—January, 1902, to May, 1902, inclusive. 237
“HARK, HARK, THE LARK!”
A little lyric, as clear as water,
Sweeter voiced than the river daughter,
Or Dryope’s moan,
Rang from the heart of the truest singer,
And straight the sound was the magic bringer
Of joys unknown.
For night had fallen and day had risen,
And, breaking through his eastern prison,
The glad sun shone;
And all was fragrant and sweet with morning,
And to the sky, the sad earth scorning,
The lark had flown.
And, faintly heard from the coast of heaven,
The song of the glad strong seraphs seven
Was earthward blown,
And echoed, with a strange completeness,
(As a small bloom treasures infinite sweetness),
In the lyric’s tone.
And the marvelous freedom of the dawning
Breathed large through the gates of life,
Wide yawning,
Far open thrown;
And the trembling thrill of incarnation
Awoke the earth to the new creation
Of Beauty’s own.
—Edward O. Jackson.
THE LITTLE GREEN HERON.
(_Ardea virescens._)
Oh, give me back my thicket by the marsh!
Let me see the herons wade
In the watery glade,
And let me see the water-fowl go by
Glimmering against the sky.
—Maurice Thompson, “In Captivity.”
The Ardeidae, or the family of herons, egrets and bitterns, includes
about seventy-five species, which are world wide in their distribution,
though much more common in temperate regions. So widely scattered are
the species of this family, whose Latin name means heron, that most
persons who are deeply interested in the study of bird life are more or
less familiar with their habits. The large size of the herons, together
with their long bills, necks and legs, renders them conspicuous and
demands more than a passing glance from even the casual observer. Many
bodies of water in retired locations will harbor at the proper season
one or more species of this interesting family.
One of the smallest of the herons, and one of the most common in many
localities, is the Little Green Heron, familiarly known to the rural
Hoosier boy as the “Schytepoke,” and to others as the “Poke.” It is not
the purpose to give a description of this bird; those of our readers—if
there be any—who are not familiar with it will find minute descriptions
of it in all the standard manuals. However, a few observations on its
nesting and feeding habits may be of some value and interest.
In central Indiana the Little Green Heron arrives from its winter
residence in Florida, or farther southward, about the last of April, and
immediately begins nesting, selecting, if convenient, second growth
timber, especially if there be a thicket of undergrowth. But if these
conditions be not at hand, it seems to prefer, as a site for its nest,
an old abandoned orchard, or at least one somewhat remote from human
habitation, but not very far distant from a stream or pond. In the fork
of some tree ten to twenty feet above ground is collected a considerable
sized but irregular and loose bundle of rough sticks. In this by the
middle of May, or at times even earlier, it lays from three to six
greenish blue eggs, about an inch and a half long by an inch and a
quarter in diameter. The period of incubation cannot be long, as some
years young almost ready to fly can be found before the last of May. We
have never found more than one nest in the same immediate vicinity, but,
according to Ridgway, it sometimes nests in colonies.
For the remainder of the summer this is a social bird, at least to the
extent that the whole family remain together, wading the water, stalking
along the banks or perching on trees, bushes and logs. At this time it
displays some curiosity when a person comes warily into its haunts. Its
long neck is stretched to its limit as the bird endeavors to keep an eye
on the intruder, and at the slightest suspicious movement on the part of
the latter, its long wings are raised in readiness for flight. Remain
perfectly quiet, however, and it again resumes its occupation,
apparently unconcerned; but let a sudden movement be made, and then it
awkwardly but quickly flies away, uttering meanwhile a discordant
squawk.
[Illustration: GREEN HERON.
(Ardea virescens.)
About ½ Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.]
It is quite interesting to see one of these herons feeding. It will wade
along the edge of a pond or stream, very slowly lifting its feet out of
the water and carefully putting them down again. Its neck is folded so
that it almost disappears, the head being drawn back against the
shoulders. At last it sees an unwary minnow swimming lazily along.
Slowly and carefully it leans its body forward and downward toward the
water, the long legs looking and acting almost like stilts; still more
slowly the head with its long, stout beak moves cautiously toward the
water surface, very much like a young turkey seeks to capture a
grasshopper. Then suddenly, as if a spring had been set free in its
neck, the head is thrust downward until the beak, or more, disappears
beneath the surface, but only to reappear immediately with the
struggling minnow or sunfish between its mandibles.
The prey secured, the bird now walks to an open spot on the bank several
feet away, if possible, from the water so that the fish cannot flop back
into its native element. With a blow or two from the bird’s bill the
fish is stunned and in another moment has started head first down the
heron’s throat. As the latter stretches its neck, the descent of the
fish is plainly to be seen until it reaches the body of the bird. If the
heron is not yet satisfied with its meal, the same performance is
repeated until at last it flies to some overhanging limb—usually a dead
one—of a tree where it wipes its bill and finally flies away. By the
last of August or first of September it has gone on its southern
journey, and Indiana knows it no more till spring.
Henry H. Lane.