MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE OUTDOOR FOLK
=In the Woods, the Fields, on the Shore. Stalking Animals and Birds=
There is but one way to make friends with the folk of the wild, and that
is by gentleness, kindness, and quietness. Also one must learn to be
fearless. It is said that while animals may not understand our language
they do understand, or feel, our attitude toward them; and if it is that
of fear or dislike we stand little chance of really knowing them, to say
nothing of establishing any kind of friendly relations with them. By
quiet watchfulness, keenness of sight and hearing, you may obtain a
certain amount of knowledge of their ways, but when you add real
sympathy and kindly feeling you gain their confidence and friendship.
Make them understand that you will not interfere with or harm them, and
they will go about their own affairs unafraid in your presence. Then you
may silently watch their manner of living, their often amusing habits,
and their frank portrayal of character. As a guest in the wild,
conducting yourself as a courteous guest should, you will be well
treated by your wild hosts, some of whom, in time, may even permit you
to feed and stroke them. They do not dislike but fear you; they would
rather be your friends than your enemies. The baby animal which has not
yet learned to fear a human being will sometimes, when in danger, run to
you for protection. This must win your heart if nothing else can.
[Illustration: Making friends with a ruffed grouse.]
=Stalking=
You may stalk an animal by remaining quiet as well as by following its
trail. To even see some of the inhabitants of woods, fields, and shore
you must be willing to exercise great patience and conform to their
method of hiding by remaining absolutely still. It is the thing that
moves that they fear. Some of the animals appear not even to see a
person who remains motionless. At any rate, they ignore him as they do a
stump or stone.
For this quiet stalking, find as comfortable a seat as you can where you
have reason to think some kind of animal or animals will pass and resign
yourself to immovable waiting. If the rock beneath you grows
unreasonably hard or the tree roots develop sharp edges, or the ground
sends up unnoticed stones of torment; if your foot "goes to sleep" or
your nose itches, bear the annoyances bravely and your reward will be
sure and ample. If the wait is unduly long and movement of some kind
becomes imperative, let such movement be made so slowly as to be almost
imperceptible. Remember that unseen, suspicious eyes will be attracted
by any sudden action and the faintest sound will be heard, for these
spell danger to the wilderness folk and if frightened away they are not
apt to return.
Keep your ears open to detect the first sound of approaching life. There
is a thrill in this experience, and another when the animal you have
heard comes boldly out before you. Then it is you will find that, in
some mysterious way, all bodily discomfort has vanished. Your whole
being is absorbed in the movements of the creature who is unconscious of
your presence, and there is no room for other sensations. More animals
may appear and perhaps a little drama may be enacted as if for your
benefit.
[Illustration: Found on the trail.
Chipmunk and white-footed mouse, panther, kangaroo rat, raccoon, and
weasel.]
It may be a tragedy, it may be a comedy, or it may be only a bit of
every-day family life; but you do not know the plot nor how many actors
will take part, and your very uncertainty adds zest to the situation.
=Animals Found on the Trail=
The animals most frequently seen in the woods where there is no longer
any large game are the chipmunk, the red, the gray, and the black
squirrel, the rabbit and hare, the fox, weasel, pine-marten, woodchuck,
raccoon, opossum, and skunk, also the pack-rat (of the west), the
white-footed and field mouse. In deeper and wilder forests there are
deer and porcupine, though deer are found quite near habitations at
times. In more remote places there are the moose and caribou; the bear,
mountain-lion, lynx or wildcat, and the timber-wolf. The wolf is,
however, equally at home in the open and at this day is most plentiful
on the wide plains of the west. Unless your trail leads through the
remote wilderness, you will hardly come across the more savage animals,
and when you do invade their territory it will give you greater courage
to call to mind the fact that they, as well as the smaller wild things,
are afraid of man. Our most experienced hunters and our best writers on
the subject of animal life agree that a wild animal's first emotion upon
seeing a human being is undoubtedly _fear_. When you come upon one
suddenly you may feel sure that he is as much frightened as you are and
will probably turn aside to avoid you unless he thinks you are going to
attack him. All wild creatures are afraid of fire, therefore the
camp-fire is a barrier they will not pass, and a blazing firebrand will
drive any of them away.
[Illustration: Timber wolves.]
=Birds=
Among the feathered tribes of the woods you will find the owl, the
woodcock, and the grouse. Of the smaller birds, the nuthatch, the wood
and hermit thrush, whippoorwill, woodpeckers, wood-pewee, and others.
Most of the birds prefer the edge of the woods, where they can dip into
the sunshine and take long flights through the free air of the open; but
the hermit-thrush, shyest and sweetest of singers, makes his home deep
in the silent, shadowy forest. In these depths, and oftenest near a bog
or marsh, you may also hear the call of the partridge, or more properly,
the ruffed grouse. As given by the writer William J. Long, the call is
like this:
"Prut, prut, pr-r-r-rt! Whit-kwit? Pr-r-r-rt, pr-r-r-rt! Ooo-it, ooo-it?
Pr-r-reeee!"
Or perhaps you will be startled by the rolling drum-call. This begins
slowly, increases rapidly, and ends something like this: "Dum! dum! dum!
dum-dum-dum-dumdumdum!" The drum-call is made by the male bird who,
beating the air with his wings, produces the sound. It is said to be a
mating-call, but is heard at other times as well, long after the
mating-season is over.
[Illustration: Baby moose.]
=Stalking the Ruffed Grouse=
If you want to see the birds, stalk them when you hear their call. Wait
until you locate the direction of the sound, then walk silently and
follow it. As soon as the birds are sighted slip from one tree to
another, stopping instantly when you think they may see you, until you
can conceal yourself behind a bush, tree, or stump near enough for you
to peer around and have a good view of your game. It may sometimes be
necessary to drop to your knees in order to keep out of sight. If you
have heard the drum it is the cock that you have stalked and, if early
in the season, you will soon see his demure little mate steal through
the underbrush to meet her lordly master as he stands proudly on an old
log awaiting her. The "whit-kwit" call may lead you to the hen grouse
with her brood of little chicks which are so much the color of the brown
leaves you will not see them until they move. If the call comes later in
the year you may come upon a flock of well-grown young birds who have
left their mother and are now following a leader.
The ruffed grouse is a beautiful bird. He is yellowish-brown or rusty,
splashed with black or dark brown, and white, with under-parts of a
light buff. His beak is short and on his small, dainty head he carries
his crest proudly. His shoulders bear epaulets of dark feathers, called
the ruff, and his fan-like tail is banded and cross-barred. The nest of
the grouse is on the ground, usually against a fallen log, at the foot
of a tree, or in a hollow made by the roots; or it may be hidden amid
underbrush. It is easily overlooked, being made of dry leaves with,
perhaps, some feathers. In the season it contains from eight to fourteen
eggs.
=Woodcock=
The woodcock, another forest bird, seldom shows himself in broad
daylight except when hunted; then he will rise a few feet, fly a short
distance, drop and run, hiding again as quickly as he can. You will know
the woodcock from the ruffed grouse by his _long bill_, his short legs,
and his very short tail. He frequents the banks of wooded streams or the
bogs of the forests and, like the grouse, nests on the ground; but the
woodcock's nest seldom contains more than four eggs.
[Illustration: Stalking wild birds.]
=Beaver=
Along the shores of sluggish streams, of lonely lakes and ponds, you may
see the beaver, the muskrat, very rarely the otter, and sometimes an
ugly little, long-bodied animal belonging to the marten family called
the fisher. These are all interesting, each in its own way, and well
worth hours of quiet observation. The beaver, otter, and fisher choose
wild, secluded places for their homes, but the muskrat may be found also
in the marshes of farm lands. On the edges of our Long Island meadows
the boys trap muskrats for their skins.
You will find the beaver house in the water close to the shore and
overlapping it. Though strongly and carefully built, it looks very much
like a jumble of small driftwood, with bleached sticks well packed
together, and the ends standing out at all angles. The sticks are
stripped of their bark and the house gleams whitely against the dark
water. The houses vary in size, some being built as high as five feet.
The beaver is rarely seen early in the day, most of his work is done at
night, so the best time to watch for him is just before dusk or perhaps
an hour before sundown. It is not well to wait to see the beaver if your
trail back to camp is a long one, leading through dense forests. You
would far better postpone making its acquaintance than to risk going
over the, perhaps, treacherous paths after dark. Night comes early in
the woods and darkness shuts down closely while it is still light in the
open. If your camp is near the beaver house or beaver dam, or if your
trip can be made by water, then, with no anxiety about your return, you
can sit down and calmly await the coming of this most skilful of all
building animals, and may see him add material to his house, or go on
with his work of cutting down a tree, as a reward for your patience.
=Fish-Hawk, Osprey=
On the shore you will also find the fish-hawk, or osprey; a
well-mannered bird he is said to be, who fishes diligently and attends
strictly to his own business. The fish-hawk's nest will generally be at
the top of a dead tree where no one may disturb or look into it, though,
as the accompanying photograph shows, it is sometimes found on rocks
near the ground. The young hawks have a way of their own of defending
themselves from any climbing creature, and to investigators of the nest
the results are disastrously disagreeable as well as laughable. As the
intruder climbs near, the baby birds put their heads over the sides of
the nest and empty their stomachs upon him. This is vouched for by a
well-known writer who claims to have gone through the experience.
The female osprey is larger and stronger than the male. On slowly moving
wings she sails over the water, dropping suddenly to clutch in her
strong talons the fish her keen eyes have detected near the surface of
the water. Fish are fish to the osprey and salt waters or fresh are the
same to her. I have watched the bird plunge into the waves of the ocean,
on the coast of Maine, to bring out a cunner almost too large for her to
carry, and I have seen her drop into the placid waters of an Adirondack
lake for lake-trout in the same manner.
=Blue Heron=
The great blue heron is one of the shore folk and his metallic blue-gray
body gleams in the sunlight, as you sight him from your canoe, standing
tall and slim, a lonely figure on the bank. He flies slowly and
majestically, with his long legs streaming out behind. When out in a
small boat on Puget Sound a large heron escorted us some distance. As
we rowed near the shore he would fly ahead and then wait for us,
standing solemnly on a stone in the water or a partially submerged log,
to fly again as we approached.
[Illustration: The fish-hawk will sometimes build near the ground.]
This escort business seems to be a habit of the heron family, for the
same thing occurred on the Tomoca River, Fla., the home of the
alligator, when a small, brilliantly blue heron flew ahead of our boat
for several miles, always stopping to wait for us, and then going on
again.
The heron is a fisher and when you see him standing close to the water,
on one foot perhaps, he is awaiting his game. It matters not how long he
must remain immovable, there he will stand until the fish comes within
striking distance, when the long, curved neck will shoot out like a
snake and the strong beak grasp its unwary prey.
=Loon, Great Northern Diver=
Another interesting bird, which you may both hear and see on secluded
lakes, is the loon or great northern diver. I first heard the wild cry
of the loon, a lonesome and eerie sound, on Pine River Pond, a small
lake in the foot-hills of the White Mountains. There I saw the great
bird dive and disappear beneath the water to remain an alarmingly long
time, and then come up several hundred yards away, and rising, fly
slowly to the shore. It is always a matter for guessing when the loon
dives, for you can never tell where she will come up. This great diver
is a large black-and-white bird, about the size of a goose. The breast
is white, head black, and a white ring encircles its black neck. Its
beak is long, its legs very short and placed far back on the body. It is
essentially a water-bird, and on shore is both slow and awkward. I do
not think it possible to become very intimate with the loon, for it is
one of the wildest of our birds, and so suspicious it will allow no
close approach, but quiet watching will reveal many of its interesting
characteristics. Some one once found the nest of a loon and brought me a
little, downy, young one that I might try to tame it; but it lived only
a day or two in spite of all the devotion expended upon it, and its
wild, frightened cry was too pathetic to allow of another experiment of
the kind.
=Animals and Birds of the Open=
You will find that the wild life of the open differs in some respects
from that of the woods, though there will be the woodchuck, the rabbit,
the fox, and the hare in the fields and farm lands as well as in the
woods. The weasel, too, makes unwelcome visits to the farm, but besides
these there are other animals that are seldom or never found in the
woods.
=Field-Mouse=
There is the little field-mouse, a short-eared and short-tailed little
creature with a thick neck and of a red-brown color. It feeds on grain
and seeds, and when hard pressed for food will also eat the bark of
trees.
=Kangaroo-Rat, Jumping Mouse=
In the underbrush near a meadow and at the edges of thickets you may
possibly see, though they are not common, a diminutive animal, beautiful
in form and color and of most interesting habits. In the Southwest it is
called the kangaroo-rat, but North and East it is known as the jumping
mouse. The name kangaroo-rat is given because of its short fore legs,
strong hind legs, and the kangaroo-like leaps it makes. In temper it is
very unlike the ordinary rat; it does not bite and can be safely
handled, but will not live if kept in captivity.
=Pocket-Gopher=
The pocket-gopher lives and burrows in the fields. It is a mole-like
animal but much larger than the common mole. Its legs are short and its
front feet strong, with long nails for digging. The fur is soft and
silky and dark brown in color. Where the gopher is there may be found
the weasel, his greatest enemy. It should be an even fight between them,
for they are equally matched in ill-temper and savageness, and are near
of a size though the gopher is the heavier.
=Antelope=
On the great plains of the west you may still see the beautiful and
gentle antelope, though that animal is fast disappearing, while the
thieving coyote thrives and multiplies in the same region.
=Coyote, Prairie-Wolf=
The coyote, or prairie-wolf, is about the size of a large dog and
resembles one. Its color is gray, made by a mixture of black and white
hairs. It is a cowardly animal and not dangerous, but its contemptible
character could not prevent a wave of compassion that came over me when
I saw one poor creature caged in a wooden box and holding up the bloody
stump where its fore foot had been torn off by the cruel and barbarous
steel trap.
=Spermophile=
In the Middle West, especially in Indiana, the little spermophile,
sometimes called the ground-squirrel, is common and not afraid to
venture into the outskirts of a village. One variety wears spotted brown
and yellow stripes down its back, another is gray, but all are about
the size of a gray squirrel. On the western prairies are the comical
little prairie-dogs. You can see them sitting up on their haunches
watching the train as it carries you over the great plains.
[Illustration: Antelopes of the western plains.]
=Bobolink=
The birds of the open are varied and many. Most of the forest birds are
seen occasionally in the fields, but some birds make their homes in the
open. You will find the bobolink's nest in a hay-field or down among the
red clover. The bobolink of the north is a sweet singer and is pretty in
his black and white feathers with a touch of yellow at the back of his
head. There are creamy-yellow feathers down his back, too, but they are
not noticeable. When he goes south the male loses his pretty coat and,
clad like his mate in yellowish-brown, is known as the rice-bird because
he feeds on the rice crops. Here he is killed because he is considered a
robber, and eaten because he is considered a delicacy.
=Meadow-Lark=
Early spring trailing through the meadows will bring you the cheery song
of the meadow-lark: "Spring-o-the-year!" Stalk him carefully and you
will find a large brown bird with yellow breast and a black crescent on
his throat. The meadow-lark is about the size of a quail. He stands
erect when he sings, and he has a rather long beak. The nest can be
found, if you look for it, but is generally out of sight under a
loosened clod of earth or tuft of grass.
=Red-Winged Blackbird=
The red-winged blackbird with his sweet call of "O-ka-lie," or
"Ouchee-la-ree-e!" you will also find on the meadows and marshes. He
builds his nest among the reeds and is one of the first of our spring
birds in the north.
=Song Sparrow=
The little song sparrow loves the open and the hot summer sunshine.
Trailing along a country road at midday, when most of the other birds
are still, you will find the song sparrow sitting on a rail fence
singing with undiminished enthusiasm.
To make friends with the birds provide food and water for them, then sit
down and wait quietly until they appear. Let them become accustomed to
seeing you sitting still every day for a while, then begin slow, careful
movements, gradually becoming more natural, and in time the birds will
allow you to walk among them as you please, if you are careful never to
frighten them. You can do this in camp; you can do it at home if you are
not living in a city. The trustful friendship of animals and birds opens
a new path of happiness and one that all girls should be able, in some
measure, to enjoy.