Warm spring days bring other changes than thawing snowbanks and the
swelling buds and leaves, which seem to grow almost visibly. It is
surprising how many of the wild folk meet the spring with changed
appearance--beautiful, fantastic or ugly to us; all, perhaps, beautiful to
them and to their mates.
As a rule we find the conditions which exist among ourselves reversed
among the animals; the male "blossoms forth like the rose," while the
female's sombre winter fur or feathers are reduplicated only by a thinner
coat for summer. The "spring opening" of the great classes of birds and
animals is none the less interesting because its styles are not set by
Parisian modistes.
The most gorgeous display of all is to be found among the birds, the
peacock leading in conspicuousness and self-consciousness. What a contrast
to the dull earthy-hued little hen, for whose slightest favour he neglects
food to raise his Argus-eyed fan, clattering his quill castanets and
screaming challenges to his rivals! He will even fight bloody battles with
invading suitors; and, after all, failure may be the result. Imagine the
feelings of two superb birds fighting over a winsome browny, to see
her--as I have done--walk off with a spurless, half-plumaged young cock!
The males of many birds, such as the scarlet tanager and the indigo
bunting, assume during the winter the sombre green or brown hue of the
female, changing in spring to a glorious scarlet and black, or to an
exquisite indigo colour respectively. Not only do most of the females of
the feathered world retain their dull coats throughout the year, but some
deface even this to form feather beds for the precious eggs and nestlings,
to protect which bright colours must be entirely foregone.
The spring is the time when decorations are seen at their best. The snowy
egret trails his filmy cloud of plumes, putting to shame the stiff
millinery bunches of similar feathers torn from his murdered brethren.
Even the awkward and querulous night heron exhibits a long curling plume
or two. And what a strange criterion of beauty a female white pelican must
have! To be sure, the graceful crest which Sir Pelican erects is
beautiful, but that huge, horny "keel" or "sight" on his bill! What use
can it subserve, aesthetic or otherwise? One would think that such a
structure growing so near his eyes, and day by day becoming taller, must
occupy much of his attention.
The sheldrake ducks also have a fleshy growth on the bill. A turkey
gobbler, when his vernal wedding dress is complete, is indeed a remarkable
sight. The mass of wattles, usually so gray and shrunken, is now of most
vivid hues--scarlet, blue, vermilion, green,--the fleshy tassels and
swollen knobs making him a most extraordinary creature.
Birds are noted for taking exquisite care of their plumage, and if the
feathers become at all dingy or unkempt, we know the bird is in bad
health.
What a time the deer and the bears, the squirrels and the mice, have when
changing their dress! Rags and tatters; tatters and rags! One can grasp a
handful of hair on the flank of a caribou or elk in a zoological park, and
the whole will come out like thistledown; while underneath is seen the
sleek, short summer coat. A bear will sometimes carry a few locks of the
long, brown winter fur for months after the clean black hairs of the
summer's coat are grown. What a boon to human tailors such an opportunity
would be--to ordain that Mr. X. must wear the faded collar or vest of his
old suit until bills are paid!
It is a poor substance, indeed, which, when cast aside, is not available
for some secondary use in Nature's realm; and the hairs that fall from
animals are not all left to return unused to their original elements. The
sharp eyes of birds spy them out, and thus the lining to many a nest is
furnished. I knew of one feathered seeker of cast-off clothing which met
disaster through trying to get a supply at first hand--a sparrow was found
dead, tangled in the hairs of a pony's tail. The chickadee often lights on
the backs of domestic cattle and plucks out hair with which to line some
snug cavity near by for his nest. Before the cattle came his ancestors
were undoubtedly in the habit of helping themselves from the deer's stock
of "ole clo's," as they have been observed getting their building material
from the deer in zoological parks.
Of course the hair of deer and similar animals falls out with the motions
of the creatures, or is brushed out by bushes and twigs; but we must hope
that the shedding place of a porcupine is at a distance from his customary
haunts; it would be so uncomfortable to run across a shred of one's old
clothes--if one were a porcupine!
The skin of birds and animals wears away in small flakes, but when a
reptile changes to a new suit of clothes, the old is shed almost entire. A
frog after shedding its skin will very often turn round and swallow it,
establishing the frog maxim "every frog his own old clothes bag!"
Birds, which exhibit so many idiosyncrasies, appear again as utilizers of
old clothes; although when a crested flycatcher weaves a long
snake-skin into the fabric of its nest, it seems more from the standpoint
of a curio collector--as some people delight in old worn brass and blue
china! There is another if less artistic theory for this peculiarity of
the crested flycatcher. The skin of a snake--a perfect ghost in its
completeness--would make a splendid "bogie." We can see that it might,
indeed, be useful in such a way, as in frightening marauding crows,
who approach with cannibalistic intentions upon eggs or young. Thus
the skin would correspond in function to the rows of dummy wooden
guns, which make a weak fort appear all but invincible.