is an especially good place for collecting many kinds of insects. Any
place where there is a great variety of plants and flowers will give a
variety of insects. Banks of streams and underneath stones in the fields
are good places for collecting.
WHEN TO COLLECT INSECTS.
The best time of the year is during the summer months. The best time of
day is in the forenoon after eight o'clock, and in the twilight at
evening.
At night many moths may be caught by making a paste of sugar and water
(unrefined sugar is best) and painting it upon tree trunks with a brush
after sunset. The paste should cover a space two inches wide and several
inches long. After dark seek these places cautiously with a lantern and
moths will be found sucking the paste; these may be caught with the
killing bottle if you move carefully so as not to frighten them; they do
not seem to mind the light of the lantern.
Electric street-lights attract many insects which may be caught
in the net. A lamp set in an open window is also a very good lure
on warm nights in the spring and summer.
ARRANGING THE INSECTS IN BOXES.
[Illustration: _Fig. 136. a, Cricket. b, Grasshopper._]
After collecting insects comes the desire to arrange them properly,
putting together in neat rows those that resemble each other. To
classify insects correctly requires much study. The scope of this
leaflet admits of only a few suggestions about the most common insects.
_Dragon Flies._--There are many kinds of these, but they all have four
wings, finely netted and transparent, the hind wings being as large or
larger than the front wings. These are perfectly harmless insects.
_Grasshoppers, Crickets and Katydids._--These are known to all, Fig.
136. There are two families of grasshoppers: those with long horns or
antennæ and those with short antennæ. Katydids, crickets, cockroaches
and walking-sticks are near relatives to the grasshoppers.
_Bugs._--These insects have the front pair of wings thick and heavy at
the base and thin and transparent at the tips, Fig. 137, _b_. The
squash-bug, the chinch-bug, and the electric-light bug are examples of
these. Some bugs have the front wings entirely thin and transparent and
sloping like a steep roof over the back of the insect, like the cicada,
Fig. 137, _a_; and the Brownie bug, Fig. 137, _c_, _d_.
[Illustration: _Fig. 137. a, Cicada. b, Stink-bug. c, Leaf-hopper. d,
Leaf-hopper--front view._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 138. Beetles--showing the pin through the right
wing cover. a, Snapping beetle. b, Wood-boring beetle. c, Water
beetle._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 139. Flies--showing the knobs just below the wings.
Note that flies have only two wings. a, Crane fly. b, Pomace
fly--enlarged._]
_Beetles._--These have hard wing-covers which meet in a straight line
down the back and have a pair of thin wings folded under them, Fig.
138. The "June bug" or "May beetle" and the potato beetle are good
examples of beetles.
[Illustration: _Fig. 140. a, Wasp. b, Bee. Note these have four wings._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 141. The Red Admiral butterfly. Note the knobbed
antennæ._]
_Flies._--These have only two wings, usually transparent. Behind each of
these wings a short thread with a knob on it extends out on each side of
the body instead of hind wings, Fig. 139. House-flies, horse-flies and
mosquitoes are examples of flies.
_Bees, Wasps and Ants._--Bees, wasps and the winged form of ants have
four transparent wings, Fig. 140. Some flies resemble bees and wasps,
but if examined it will be found that they have only two wings instead
of four.
[Illustration: _Fig. 142. The Cabbage butterfly._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 143. The Bass-wood leaf-roller moth._]
_Butterflies and Moths._--Butterflies and moths may be told apart by
the following character: The antennæ or horns of the butterflies are
always threadlike and knobbed at the tip, Figs. 141, 142, while the
antennæ of moths are in various shapes, but never bear knobs at the
tips, Figs. 143, 144, 145, 146.
[Illustration: _Fig. 144. The Imperial moth. A common night-flying
moth._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 145. An under-wing moth._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 146. The Luna moth. A common night-flying
species._]
DEALERS IN ENTOMOLOGICAL SUPPLIES.
The following is a list of the dealers in entomological supplies that
have advertisements in the current American entomological journals:
A. Smith & Sons, 269 Pearl Street, New York, N. Y.
John Akhurst, 78 Ashland Place, Brooklyn, N. Y.
M. Abbott Frazar, 93 Sudbury Street, Boston, Mass.
Entomological Society of Ontario, Victoria Hall, London, Ont.
Queen & Co., 1010 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
The Bausch & Lomb Optical Company, 515-543 N. St. Paul Street,
Rochester, N. Y.
LEAFLET XIX.
SOME TENT-MAKERS.[24]
BY ANNA BOTSFORD COMSTOCK.
[24] Teachers' Leaflet No. 5, June, 1897.
It is unfortunate that there is, throughout the country, a prevailing
dislike for the small creatures called "worms." This dislike is, in most
instances, the result of wrong training, and is by no means a natural
instinct. As evidence of this, witness the joy with which the small boy
or even the small girl, handles "bait" when preparing to go fishing;
although of all common "worms" surely the angle-worm is least attractive
from any point of view. A still more striking example is the hardihood
with which young fishermen catch the dobson to use as a lure for
bass--for the dobson is not only very ugly in appearance but is also
vicious, often pinching severely the careless fingers of its captors.
Thus the dislike for insects being the result of the point of view, it
should be the first duty of the teacher to remove this repulsion. In the
lesson which follows there is no occasion for teacher or pupils to touch
the insects unless they choose to do so; but an attempt is made to
arouse an interest in the habits and ways of insect life. If we can
succeed in arousing the child's interest in the actions of a
caterpillar, he will soon forget his dislike for the "little brothers"
which live upon foliage and which experience miraculous changes of form
during their short lives.
In selecting the Apple-tree Tent Caterpillar for this lesson we have
been guided by the following facts: First, it is to be found in early
spring; second, its life-history from egg to cocoon is accomplished
within the limits of the spring term of our schools; third, it is common
everywhere; fourth, it is an important insect from an economic point of
view, and the children may be taught how to keep it out of the orchards,
thus making the lesson of practical use.
In this lesson the teacher is encouraged to use her own methods and
originate new ones to make the work interesting. The Leaflet is meant
for the exclusive use of the teacher and the text should not be shown to
the pupils. The pictures on page 235 are to be shown to the pupils at
the teacher's discretion. When answers are herein given to the questions
asked, they are meant to aid the teacher in drawing out the correct
replies from the children.
MATERIALS NEEDED.
1. A pocket lens or a tripod lens is desirable, but not a necessity.
These lenses may be bought from or ordered through any jeweler or
bookseller. They cost from twenty-five cents to one dollar each. It is
worth while for any teacher to possess one of these magnifiers as a
means of interesting her pupils in many things.
2. A bottle, a broad-bottomed one being preferable so that it will not
tip over easily. This bottle is to be filled with water in which a small
branch of the apple tree may be placed to keep it fresh. A common ink
bottle will do to begin with. Fig. 147.
3. A wooden or pasteboard box, twelve or fourteen inches square,--a soap
box or hat box will do. In place of a cover, nail or paste mosquito
netting or cheese cloth over the top; remove the bottom so that the box
may be placed over the bottle and the branch of apple in it. This is
called a "breeding-cage," and its use is to keep the insects from
straying about the schoolroom.
4. A twig bearing the egg-mass of the tent caterpillar. These are easily
found before the leaves appear on the apple tree or the wild cherry
tree.
[Illustration: _Fig. 147. The bottle with the twigs bearing the
egg-masses. The tent is being woven below._]
METHODS OF USING THE LEAFLET.
The teacher should give the pupils a preliminary talk on tents. Speak of
the tents used by Indians, by armies, by circuses, by campers, and
describe them each in turn. The teacher should use all the facts at her
disposal, and all her ingenuity to get the children interested in this
subject. Spend a little time for two or three days in discussing tents,
and get the pupils to tell orally or in essays all they know about
tents. When sufficient interest is thus aroused, tell them this: "The
reason we have talked about tents is that we are going to study some
little folks who make tents and live in them. Their tents are not made
of bark like the Indian's or of canvas like the soldier's, but are made
of the finest silk, which is spun and woven by the tenters themselves.
These silken tents are not pitched upon the ground and fastened down by
ropes and pegs, for these folk, like the Swiss Family Robinson, live in
trees. Many people live in one of these tree tents, and they are all
brothers and sisters. Now, just where these tents are made, and how they
are made, and what sort of little people make them are things which we
shall find out if we watch carefully and patiently."
LESSON I.--THE EGGS. FIG. 149, _a_.
The teacher, having found the egg-mass, should show it to the pupils and
let them, during play hours, collect some for themselves. Say that they
are eggs, but explain no further. Get the children to examine the
egg-masses; ask the following questions:
On what part of the trees are these egg-masses found?
What is the shape of the egg-mass? (Bring out the fact that they look
like a portion of the twig swollen or budded.)
What is the color of the egg-mass?
Is there much difference in color between the egg-mass and the branch?
Has this similarity in color any use? (Develop the idea that the shape
and the color of the egg-mass make it resemble the twig so closely as to
hide it from birds or any animal that would be likely to eat the eggs.)
Does the egg-mass shine?
Why does it shine? _Answer._ Because there is a coat of varnish around
the eggs.
Why was varnish put around the eggs? (Get the answer by asking why
varnish is put on wood. Varnish is put around the eggs to preserve them
and to keep them dry during the rains and snows of autumn and winter.)
If the eggs are near the hatching period the varnish will have scaled
off, revealing the tiny white eggs; if not, let the teacher remove the
varnish with a knife or pin, thus exposing the eggs. If the teacher has
a lens the children should view the eggs through it. Exhibit the picture
Fig. 149, b, which represents the eggs greatly enlarged showing the
net-work of cement which holds them in place. Ask the children to
compare the shape of these eggs with that of bird's eggs, and bring out
the fact that these are thimble-shaped. Then ask the pupils to guess
what sort of mother laid these eggs, cemented them fast with a network,
and then covered them with a coat of waterproof varnish. After
sufficient interest is aroused on this point, explain to them: "One day
last July a little moth or miller was flitting about the tree from which
these twigs were taken. If we could have been there and caught her we
should have found her a pretty little creature with four wings covered
with down and a soft fuzzy body. In color she was a pale rosy-brown, and
had two bands of pale yellow across each front wing." (Call attention to
the picture of the moth, Fig. 149, e.[25])
[25] If a specimen of the moth could be obtained, it would be much more
interesting to the children than the picture. The teacher can collect or
breed the moths in July to use the next spring to illustrate the lesson.
"This is the little mother which laid her eggs in a ring around the twig
and covered them with a waterproof coat to keep them safe and sound
until this spring, when they will hatch."
What will come out of these eggs when they hatch? The teacher should not
answer this question, but let the pupils watch the eggs and discover the
answer for themselves.
Place the twig with the egg-mass upon it in the bottle of water (Fig.
147). It will be best if this twig is a part of a forked branch, so that
the caterpillars may make their web upon it (Fig. 148). As soon as the
eggs hatch ask the following questions:
What sort of young ones hatch out of the eggs?
Are they like their mother?
What color are they?
Why are their heads so large? _Answer._ So that they can gnaw the lid
off the egg and thus get out.
Why should the young ones of a pretty moth be little black caterpillars?
(Leave this answer for future investigation.)
After the caterpillars hatch it will be necessary to bring in each day
fresh apple twigs with buds and leaves on them so as to feed the little
prisoners. It is very desirable that they be kept alive until they have
begun their web and have molted at least twice. If they show a
disposition to wander off, put the breeding cage over the bottle and
branch and so keep them confined with their food.
To supplement the study of the imprisoned caterpillars, study should be
made at the same time of the insects out of doors and under natural
conditions. If none appear upon an apple or wild cherry tree near the
school-house, the teacher should transfer a colony to such a tree (Fig.
148). This may be done by fastening a twig with an egg-mass upon it to a
branch of the tree. If too late to get the unhatched eggs, get a nest
with the small worms in it and tie that to the convenient branch
instead. This study of the insects out of doors is very necessary in
discovering their normal habits.
LESSON II. THE CATERPILLARS. FIG. 149, _c_.
If the eggs hatch before the leaves appear, upon what do the
caterpillars feed?
How long is it after hatching before the caterpillars commence to make
their tent?
Where is the tent always formed?
_Answer._ In the fork of the branches.
Why is this so?
_Answer._ The forking branches offer a convenient support upon which to
stretch the tent: and when, as in the case out of doors, the tent is
spread in a fork of the larger limbs, these limbs afford two branching
roads for the caterpillars to follow in searching for food.
Let the pupils make drawings of the tent as soon as it is large enough
to be seen well.
What is the color of the caterpillars when they are a week old?
Upon what do they feed?
At what time of day do they feed?
When on a tree, how far from their tent do they go for food?
Are the paths over which the caterpillars travel when searching for food
marked in any way?
[Illustration: _Fig. 148. A young colony of tent-makers on a cherry
tree._]
_Answer._ This caterpillar spins a silken thread wherever it goes and
therefore leaves a trail of silk behind it.
Of what is the tent made?
Compare the tent with a spider's web and note the differences.
Where does the silk come from, of which the tent is made?
_Answer._ The silk glands of the caterpillar are situated near the
mouth, while those of the spider are on the rear end of the body.
LESSON III. HOW THE INSECTS GROW.
The caterpillars shed their skins about five times. The first molt
occurs about three days after they hatch; the second molt about four
days later; and the third molt about six days after the second. After
each molt, the color and markings of the caterpillars are somewhat
changed. During some of the molts the pupils should watch a caterpillar
change his skin. After the class has seen this operation the teacher may
give the following lesson:
Where is your skeleton?
What is it made of?
What is it for? Bring out the fact that the skeleton is a support for
the muscles and organs of the body.
Where is an insect's skeleton? Get as many answers to this question as
possible, then explain:
The insect's skeleton is on the outside of its body instead of a skin,
and the flesh and muscles are supported by it on the inside instead of
on the outside like our own. As this skeleton is hard it cannot stretch;
as the insect grows and gets too large the shell bursts open and the
insect walks out of it. Now underneath this old hard skeleton a new one
is formed, which is soft and flexible at first, and so stretches to
accommodate the growing insect. After a little time this new skeleton
also hardens and has to be shed when it is too small to suit its owner.
Notes should be made by the pupil upon the change of color and markings
after the different molts, and the process of molting should be
described.
LESSON IV. THE PUPA. FIG. 149, _d_.
In ordinary seasons, about the middle of May, the caterpillars get their
growth. If those in the breeding cage have died or have not thrived,
bring in a few full-grown caterpillars from the orchard and put them on
some branches in the breeding cage. Give them fresh food each day as
long as they will eat; also place some sticks and chips on the bottom
of the breeding cage for the worms to "spin up" on. Then have the
children observe the following things:
How do the caterpillars begin their cocoons?
Where are the cocoons made?
How are they made?
Draw a picture of a cocoon.
About a week after a cocoon is made, open it carefully with a pair of
scissors so as not to hurt the inmate, and let the pupil see the change
that has come over the caterpillar.
Have the pupils describe the pupa.
Let the pupils make drawings of the pupa.
The moths will hardly emerge from the cocoons until after the close of
the school term. The children should be encouraged to gather the cocoons
from the fences around the orchards and from the sticks and the branches
on the ground and to carry them home. The cocoons may be placed in
pasteboard boxes and kept until the moths emerge, about the middle of
July.
LESSON V. DESTROYING THE CATERPILLARS.
After the caterpillars are fully grown and all the processes of growth
have been observed by the pupils, the teacher should give a lesson upon
the injury which they do to trees and the necessity of keeping the
orchards free from these pests. This lesson should be given guardedly so
as not to encourage the children to cruelty in killing insects. The
teacher should always try to inculcate in the child reverence for life,
that wonderful force, which we can so easily take from a creature but
which we can never give back. It is better to appeal to the child's
sense of justice in giving this lesson. The teacher may vary it to suit
her own ideas, but in substance it might be given somewhat as follows:
"All life is sacred; the smallest worm has as good a right to live in
the sight of God as you or any child has. Life should never be taken
except when necessary. However, no one has the right to interfere with
the rights of another. Neither the child nor the worm has any right to
trespass upon the property of any one else."
"Let us see whether these caterpillars are trespassers or not. The
farmer works hard to earn the money to buy the land upon which the
orchard is planted; he works hard to earn the money with which to buy
the young trees; he works hard to set out the trees and cultivate the
orchard; therefore the orchard and the fruit of it are his property, and
he has a right to drive away all thieves. If men or children steal the
fruit, he has a right to appeal to the law and have them fined or
imprisoned. If worms come and injure the tree by eating up the foliage,
he has a right to keep them out if he can. The leaves are necessary to
the tree, for if they are destroyed the tree cannot get the air it needs
to keep it vigorous and enable it to mature its fruit. We have seen that
these caterpillars destroy the leaves, and thus do great injury to the
apple crop. We therefore have a right to destroy these little robbers,
as that is the only way we can keep them out of our orchards."
How can the caterpillars be destroyed?
The egg-masses can be collected in winter and early spring from young
orchards, and burned.
Tie bits of suet or fresh fat pork to the branches of the trees and thus
induce chickadees, nuthatches, and woodpeckers to visit the orchard in
winter. These birds will destroy eggs and cocoons of the tent
caterpillar, and of other insect pests also.
In large, old trees, we must wait until later. Ask the pupils the
following questions:
At what times did we find the worms in their tents? _Answer._ Early
morning; late afternoons; and during cold, dark days.
If we should destroy the tents in the middle of a warm, sunny day, what
would happen? _Answer._ The caterpillars, being out feeding on the
leaves, would not be hurt, and as soon as they came back would make
another tent.
If the tent is destroyed in the early morning or late afternoon or on a
cold, dark day, what would happen? _Answer._ The caterpillars, all being
in the tent, would be destroyed.
How may the tents be destroyed? _Answer._ By wiping them out with a long
pole on one end of which is wound a rag saturated with kerosene. Or by
burning them out with a torch.
Is it best to destroy the caterpillars early in the season, while they
are still small, or to wait until they are large and are about ready to
pupate.
If the trees were sprayed with Paris green in the early spring, what
would happen? _Answer._ The caterpillars would be killed as soon as they
began to eat, when they were first hatched.
When these caterpillars feed on the leaves of wild cherry they are doing
no damage to an orchard. Therefore, when the tents appear on wild cherry
trees have we any right to destroy them? _Answer._ The wise and careful
farmer does not allow wild cherry trees to grow along his fences if
they will become breeding places for insect enemies which will next year
attack his orchards.
[Illustration: _Fig. 149. The Curious History of a Tent Caterpillar. a,
The masses of eggs on the twigs of an apple tree. b, The eggs enlarged.
c, A full grown caterpillar. d, Cocoons. e, The moth, or adult insect._]
LEAFLET XX.
MOSQUITOES.[26]
BY MARY ROGERS MILLER.
"Nature-Study is learning those things in nature that are best
worth knowing, to the end of doing those things that make life
most worth living."
--PROFESSOR HODGE in _Nature-Study and Life_.
[26] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. IV, No. 23, May, 1902.
[Illustration]
Spite of all the efforts of scientists and nature-students to popularize
the mosquito, its reputation as a public nuisance is as well sustained
as ever, and it seems destined to remain as unpopular as were its
ancestors. There is no doubt that these creatures "abound" and that
"they are great annoyances to both man and animals," as Dr. Howard tells
us in "The Insect Book;" but he has laid a new and even more deadly sin
at their door in stating, as he does in no uncertain terms, that "they
are active agents in the transfer of disease."
There seems to be no escape from the attention of these persistent "imps
o' evil." Though we travel to far Alaska or to icy Greenland we cannot
be free. Since we are doomed to existence in the same world with the
mosquito it behooves us to discover, if possible, some way to turn the
creature to account for our entertainment or instruction. Forget for the
moment that you despise mosquitoes, and let us study their ways. By
making its life history the subject of some of our lessons we may at
least learn how the mosquito lives and develops; and later we can turn
this knowledge to practical account. Since for many generations these
creatures have made the human race the subject of insistent study, it is
no more than fair that the tables should be turned!
You are not good nature-students until you have recognized and overcome
your prejudices. You read the life history of the rabbit and you think
you hate its enemies. You watch a family of foxes with their cunning
ways, and the mother's care for her young and you cannot help
sympathizing with them in their struggle for existence. Every creature
in its turn becomes interesting to you when you find yourself wondering
about how it makes its home, rears its young, and gets its food. As you
get nearer to nature you will cease to feel any pride in the fact that
you "hate" snakes, mosquitoes, and all such "varmints." Indeed that
hatred, born of ignorance, will have given place to sympathy and
interest. You have a new point of view.
One of the first questions asked of the returning animals in early
spring is, "How have you spent the winter?" The bluebird and the robin
show no signs of weariness after their long flight from the South. The
"woolly bear" caterpillars look just as they did in October. The early
butterflies are a trifle worn and shabby after their hibernation. But
who has thought to inquire where and how the mosquito has spent the cold
season? "Who cares," one may say, "so long as they don't stay around
where we are as they did last summer?"
[Illustration: _Fig. 150. Mosquito's wing._]
Suppose we make it our business from now on to care about such things,
and to inquire into the ways our plant and animal neighbors have of
living and of getting a living. Are you quite sure that the mosquitoes
have not spent their winter under your protection? If in April you had
had occasion to frequent either garret or cellar there you might have
found them. By dozens and scores they were waiting for the return of
warm weather to free them. Many of them winter not as eggs, larvæ, or
pupæ, but as winged adults, as _mosquitoes_. This rather interferes with
the prevalent notion that mosquitoes live but for a day. Would that this
were true, and might that day be short!
[Illustration: _Fig. 151. Raft of eggs, greatly enlarged._]
THE LIFE HISTORY OF THE MOSQUITO.
The life history of a mosquito is in four chapters, some of which are
exceedingly short, others long. The length of each may be varied by the
weather and the season. Moisture and warmth are particularly
advantageous to the rapid development of these creatures. Ten days in
hot weather may be sufficient time for the growth of a generation of
them, from egg to adult. There are many generations in a year.
[Illustration: _Fig. 152. The larva or wiggler._]
The larvæ of mosquitoes are aquatic. They live in stagnant water
everywhere, in ponds, swamps, ditches, puddles, rain-water barrels, and
horse-troughs. In early spring the female mosquito that has wintered in
your garret will probably go to the nearest rain-water barrel or
water-tank. She finds her way by instinct, before the sun is up. When
you go to replenish your pitcher you will find a little flat cluster of
eggs like a tiny raft floating on the surface (Fig. 151). It is
dark-colored and the chances are you will not see it unless it gets into
your pitcher. By two o'clock in the afternoon there may be from two to
four hundred lively little wigglers in the water. Possibly they will
wait until the following day. They all hatched from the eggs of one
mosquito. They hitch and twitch about in the water, coming often to the
surface and hanging there for a moment (Fig. 152). You call them
"wigglers." But did you ever wonder why they wiggle, why they come so
often to the surface, and why they thrust up the little tube which
projects from near the end of the body? Did you ever ask what they find
to eat in the water, and how they eat it?
[Illustration: _Fig. 153. The active pupa._]
The larval stage lasts about ten days in hot summer weather, but longer
when the days are cool. Then comes a change in form into the pupa (Fig.
153). The creature is still active and aquatic, though no food is taken.
It does not stay long away from the surface while in this stage.
Finally, after two or more days as a pupa, the full-grown mosquito
emerges and takes wing, leaving its pupa case floating on the top of the
water like a forlorn little derelict.
ENEMIES OF THE MOSQUITO.
Besides man, the mosquito has many natural enemies. In the water
especially they fall easy victims to the thousand-and-one insect ogres.
The nymphs of dragon-flies are especially fond of wigglers, and there
has been much said and written about raising dragon-flies as a safeguard
against mosquitoes. Most of the predaceous insects which live in still
water feed on young mosquitoes, while the adults often fall prey to
their more swiftly flying insect neighbors.
HOW TO STUDY THE MOSQUITO.
Over and around the tumbler place a piece of close-woven mosquito
netting to confine the adult insects. A glass tumbler two-thirds full of
rain-water, a little cluster of eggs, or a half dozen wigglers, a keen
observer, and you have a nature-study opportunity not to be surpassed in
the finest laboratory. If you have already seen a part of the life
history, do not be satisfied until you have completed your chain of
observations. Get the eggs; watch the hatching, the molting, the
transformations. See every stage. Learn something new every time you
look at the wiggler or the mature mosquito. It is not at all necessary
that you let these insects escape into the school-room and cause
trouble.
Those who wish more minute description, with many illustrations of
mosquitoes of different kinds, should obtain from the Division of
Publications, Department of Agriculture, the published results of Dr. L.
O. Howard's studies of mosquitoes. In this pamphlet, from which the
drawings in this lesson are copied, the subject of the transfer of
disease germs by mosquitoes is very thoroughly discussed, with pictures
which distinguish between the common mosquito and those which transfer
malaria and other diseases.
Those scientists who had to do with the naming of the many species of
mosquitoes had certainly a sense of humor. One would think they named
the creatures according to the mildness or malignity of their bite. A
few of the names are as follows:
Culex excitans
Culex pungens
Culex irritans
Culex stimulans
Culex perturbans
Culex excrucians
THE CRUSADE AGAINST MOSQUITOES.
BY M. V. SLINGERLAND.
There is now a world-wide crusade against mosquitoes, extending from the
wilds of Africa through the noted malarial districts of Italy to
America. In America a National Mosquito Extermination Society has been
formed. This extensive crusade is due to the practical demonstration
that some kinds of mosquitoes may transmit malaria, yellow fever and
probably other diseases of human beings.
All mosquitoes must have water in which to develop, and the warfare
against them consists largely in destroying their watery breeding
grounds. This is being done on a large scale, either by draining or by
filling in marshes, pools, and similar places which often swarm with the
"wigglers." Large areas of such mosquito-breeding waste lands in New
Jersey and on Long Island are thus being reclaimed and the mosquito
nuisance largely abated.
Aquaria, rain barrels, tanks, small ponds and similar places can be kept
free from the "wigglers" by introducing small fish, as gold fish or
silver fish, sunfish, "killies," roaches or minnows. An interesting and
instructive object lesson could be given by putting a few minnows from a
near-by brook into the school aquarium or into a specially prepared
glass dish well stocked with the "wigglers."
One can easily prevent mosquitoes from breeding in rain barrels or tanks
by covering them with mosquito netting.
Another practicable and successful method is to pour or sprinkle
kerosene oil every two or three weeks in a thin film over the surface of
cesspools, rain barrels, tanks, ponds or any other body of sluggish
water where the "wigglers" are found. This oil film kills the "wigglers"
(both larvæ and pupæ) by preventing them from getting to the surface to
breathe, and it also prevents the mother mosquito from laying her eggs
on the water. There are patent preparations or oils which penetrate all
through the water, killing the "wigglers" but spoiling the water for
general use, so that such oils are usually applied only to infested
cesspools, sewer basins, or manure pits.
By a little concerted effort of local officials, individuals, or by the
school children in applying whichever of the above methods is most
practicable, much interesting and valuable work could be accomplished
and the pestiferous mosquito largely eliminated in many localities.
LEAFLET XXI.
THE WAYS OF THE ANT.[27]
BY ANNA BOTSFORD COMSTOCK.
[27] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. V, No. 1. October, 1903.
[Illustration]
For many years ants have been recognized as among the most interesting
of the little animals that people our fields. However, not until
recently have we begun to understand, even in a small measure, their
economic importance and the part they play in maintaining the balance in
insect life. Therefore, we shall give a few studies of ants and their
ways, and as a knowledge of their habits is necessary to begin with, we
will take up the ant-nest first.
AN ANT-NEST.
Two panes of glass laid flat one on the other with a space between of
one-eighth of an inch or less, these panes covered with a piece of dark
paper or wood to keep out the light and then placed on something that
will allow them to be surrounded by water; a bit of blotting paper
two inches square, dampened and placed at one end of the glass
chamber--these are all the materials and the art necessary for the
construction of a perfectly equipped ant-nest.
Once we wished to make an ant-nest hurriedly, and this is the way we did
it: we chose an agate wash basin (Fig. 154), as this would not rust, and
filled it half-full of water; in this we made an island, by placing in
it a three-pint agate basin turned bottom side up. We took two discarded
negatives, size 4x5 inches, and cleaned off the films; then we placed
one of the pieces of glass on the basin-island, took the stumps of four
burnt matches and placed one on each side of this glass near its edge;
then we placed the other piece of glass on top, letting it rest on the
matches to make a chamber just high enough for the ants to live in
comfortably. This done, we took the cover of a cigar-box and cut it
down to the size of the negatives, put a screw-eye in the center to lift
it by and placed it on top of the upper glass to make the chamber below
quite dark. Then we took a trowel and fruit-can and went after some
inhabitants for our island. We went to an open pasture and turned over
stones until we found beneath one a heap of yellowish grain-like pupæ
and little translucent whitish bodies, which we knew were larvæ, all
being cared for by swarms of worker-ants. One of us pushed the trowel
beneath, taking up dirt and all, while the other held the can open, into
which the trowel was emptied. We hastened back and as gently as
possible, taking care to hurt none of our little captives, placed the
contents of the can on the top of the nest.
[Illustration: _Fig. 154. An improvised ant-nest._]
As the first thought of an ant is never for its own safety, but for the
safety of its infant sisters, the little workers began to hunt for a
safe and dark place in which to stow away their charges. In running
about they soon discovered the space between the two pieces of glass and
in a few hours the young ones were moved into the new quarters. Then we
cleaned away the earth on top of the nest, and by lifting the cover we
were able to see all that was going on within. The water in the
wash-basin prevented any of our uneasy captives from escaping, as these
little people, so clever in most things, have never yet mastered the art
of swimming.
I have an ant-nest on my table as I write, shown in Fig. 156. Instead of
matches to keep the two pieces of glass apart I have a narrow strip of
canton flannel glued around the edge of the glass floor except for two
little doors at the opposite corners; there is also a narrow strip of
cloth partitioning the chamber into two rooms with a door at one end.
One room I left empty and in the other I placed a bit of blotting paper
which I keep damp by occasionally adding a few drops of water. The nest
is placed upon a piece of plank 18 inches square. Around the plank near
the edge is a groove about an inch deep made with a chisel and kept full
of water, so that my ants have a castle with a moat. It was necessary to
paint this bit of plank thoroughly, above and below, to keep it from
warping.
[Illustration: _Fig. 155. Ant-nest, on a piece of plank, which has a
moat near its edge to confine the insects._]
The ants in my nest I found on a hillside beneath a stone; they are
brownish with yellow legs and a little less than a quarter of an inch in
length. They were stupid at first and would not discover the chamber
prepared for them, but persisted in hiding their young under bits of
earth which were brought in with them. So I made a scoop of a sheet of
writing paper and with it placed a heap of the young, with a few of the
nurses, in the empty chamber, then put on the glass ceiling and cover
and left them. In a few hours the whole colony had moved into this
chamber, but evidently it was not humid enough for the health of the
young, and by the next morning the pupæ and larvæ and eggs were all in
the other chamber arranged around the edges of the blotting paper.
What I have seen of interest in this nest on my table would fill a small
volume, if written out in detail. Just now a worker approached a pupa,
that appears through the lens like a little bag of meal tied at one end
with a black string; she examined it carefully with her antennæ and
concluded it needed to be moved, and, though it is as large as she,
picked it up in her jaws and carried it to a position which she regarded
as more favorable. Then she approached a larva which looks like a little
crook-neck squash, inquired as to its needs with her antennæ and then
cleaned it with her tongue, as a cat licks a kitten, and fed it. Her
next duty was to pick up a whole bunch of little white oblong eggs and
scurry off with them to get them out of the light. Then she stopped to
help another worker to straighten out the soft legs and antennæ of a
pale, new sister that was just emerging from the pupa skin. By the time
I had seen as much as this I felt it my duty to replace the cover, as
the light greatly disturbs the little captives. It is said that if a
yellow glass be used for the upper piece, the ants feel that they are in
darkness, and their actions may be watched constantly without disturbing
them.
For a permanent nest, it is necessary to secure a queen, which lays all
the eggs for the colony. She may be recognized by her larger size and
may sometimes be found in a nest under the stones. However, it is so
difficult to obtain a queen that I more often bring in the young and the
workers; the latter will be content as long as they have the babies to
feed and bring up; when finally this is accomplished, I usually take my
colony back to its nest in the field, where it is made most welcome.
This may seem sentimental, but after you have watched these little
people working so hard and taking such devoted care of their baby
sisters and doing so many wise things in their home, you will be loth to
let the tiny creatures die of discouragement because they have nothing
else to do, and you will be still more loth to let them loose to
scatter, bewildered and helpless, over a strange earth. However, I have
to be very careful and mark the nest to which they belong, for if I
should put them near another colony, my poor captives would soon die
inglorious deaths.
Food which we provide for the ants in captivity should be varied and
should be put on the island, rather than in the nest as we may thus be
able to better clean away the refuse. Crackers or bread soaked in
sweetened water, sponge cake, berry-jam, sugar, bits of raw meat, yolks
of hard boiled eggs crushed, freshly killed insects or earth-worms, all
may prove acceptable to our little friends. Their food may be soft but
should not be in a fluid state.
QUESTIONS ABOUT ANTS.
_If you have not made an ant-nest and observed the ant as indicated,
make some field observations. These may be made with the naked eye, or
with a tripod lens. Such a lens costs about thirty-five cents._
1. Have you ever seen an ant-hill? If so, describe it.
2. Do all ants build mound nests?
3. In what situations have you found ant-nests?
4. How many kinds of ants do you know?
5. Have you ever seen winged ants? If so, describe the experience.
6. What is the reason for a winged form of ants?
7. Have you observed ants meet and "converse" with each other? If so,
how did they do it?
8. Have you seen the ants carrying their young? If so, how do they do
it?
9. If you have made an ant-nest, tell what you have seen going on within
it.
10. Tell any experiences you have had with ants, that show their
courage, energy or cleverness.
[Illustration: _Fig. 156. Uncovered ant-nest, viewed from above, looking
through the glass ceiling._
_The white pieces around the edges and at the center are strips of
canton flannel, forming walls and partition to the nest. Note the doors
at the lower left and upper right hand corners and at lower end of the
partition. The piece of blotting paper in the chamber at the left
chanced to have a picture of an eagle upon it. The small white objects
are pupæ, assorted in heaps._]
ANTS AND THEIR HERDS.[28]
[28] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. V, No. 8, May, 1904.
[Illustration: _Fig. 157. Rose infested with aphids or plant-lice._]
Very soon after the green leaves come, one may notice that the ants seem
to be greatly interested in getting to the tops of trees, bushes and
vines. If one watches for only a short time, he may see them hastening
up and down with that important ant-air which says plainly, "There now,
don't hinder me, I haven't a moment to waste." If we should follow with
our eyes one of these hurried six-footed Marthas on her way up a tree,
we would find that her business was that of milk-maid. Her cows are
there pasturing on the leaves overhead, and she hastens to them coaxing
for the milk, which is a clear drop of sweet honeydew. For many years
entomologists repeated the statement that the honeydew secreted by
aphids or plant-lice for the use of the ants came from the two little
tubes on the back of the insect. It is easy to see how this mistake came
about; the tubes were there, and so was the honeydew; the tubes
suggested a cow's udder, and as the ants use the honeydew the natural
inference was that it came from the tubes. This interesting error has
been printed in so many honorable books, that it has become a classic.
As a matter of fact, the caterpillars of our little, blue butterflies do
have glands on the abdomen which secrete honeydew for the use of the
ants; but the honeydew of the plant-lice, like honey itself, is
manufactured in the alimentary canal, and issues from it. Observations
have shown that each individual plant-louse may produce from five to
seven drops of honeydew in twenty-four hours. If our cows could produce
as much in proportion, then a good Holstein would give something like
six thousand pounds of milk per day, and would be a highly profitable
animal to have in the dairy. Although the honeydew does not come from
the little tubes on the back of the plant-louse, yet those tubes have
their uses. I once observed a young spider approaching an aphid, which
was facing its enemy. As the spider approached, the aphid lifted its
abdomen, and thrust one of these tubes over directly in the spider's
face, and on this tube there suddenly appeared a little ball of yellow
wax. The whole act was so like a pugilist thrusting his fist in his
enemy's face that I laughed. The spider retreated and the aphid let its
abdomen fall back in its natural position, but the little wax ball
remained for some time on the tip of the tube. A German scientist, Mr.
Busgen, of the University of Jena, discovered that a plant-louse smeared
the eyes and jaws of his enemy, the aphis-lion, with this wax which
dried as soon as applied. In action it was something like throwing a
basin of paste at the head of an attacking party. Mr. Busgen discovered
that the aphis-lion thus treated was obliged to stop and clean himself
before he could go on with his hunt, and meantime the aphid walked off
in safety.
[Illustration: _Fig. 158. A stable made by ants for plant-lice._]
The honeydew is excreted in such quantities that often the pavement
beneath trees may be seen to be spattered by the drops of this sweet
rain. It seems to be excreted solely for attracting the ants. In return
for this, the ants give care and protection to their herds. They
sometimes take them into their nests and care for them. In one case, at
least, one species of ant builds for one species of aphid (which lives
upon dogwood) a little mud stable which protects the aphids from all
enemies. This stable is neatly placed at the fork of the twigs and has a
little circular door by which the ants may enter (Fig. 158). The
lady-bug larvæ and the ant-lions both feed voraciously on the aphids; an
ant will attack single-handed one of these depredators, although it be
much larger than herself, and will drive it away or perish in the
attempt.
Some so-called practical people say, "Let us study only those things in
Nature that affect our pocketbook, and not waste our time studying
irrelevant things." If this spirit had animated scientists from the
first, many of the most important economic discoveries would never have
been made. This relation of ants to aphids is an example to the point.
For a hundred years has the fact been known that ants use the aphids for
their cows, and the practical men said, "This is a very pretty story,
but what we want is some method of killing the aphids." It remained for
Professor Forbes, of Illinois, to show the practical application of this
"pretty story" in the life history of the corn-root plant-louse, which
did great damage to the corn crop of the West. These plant-lice winter
in the ground wherever they chance to be left by the dying roots of the
last year's crop, and with their soft bodies could never work their way
in the hard earth and to the roots of the newly-planted corn in the
spring. Professor Forbes discovered that the ants in these infested
fields make mines along the principal roots of the new corn; and that
they then go out and collect the plant-lice, and place them in these
burrows, and there watch over them and protect them.
OBSERVATION LESSON ON THE RELATION OF ANTS TO PLANT-LICE.
_A reading-glass or lens may be used to advantage in making these
observations._
_Find some plant near at hand that is infested by aphids in order to
note from time to time the relation of ants to these little creatures.
Some aphids on the petiole and leaves of the Virginia Creeper on our
piazza once afforded me a convenient field for daily observation._
1. How does the ant approach the aphid and ask for honeydew?
2. Does she wait long if there is no response?
3. Does the ant step on the aphids as she runs about among them?
4. What are the colors of the aphids you have observed?
5. On what plants were they feeding?
6. What sort of mouth parts have the aphids?
7. What part of the plant is their food, and how do they get it?
8. Why does not Paris green applied to the leaves on which aphids are
feeding kill them?
9. Have you seen the lady-bird larvæ or the ant-lions destroying aphids?
Explain.
10. Have you ever seen the little wax balls on the tubes of the
plant-lice? If so, did you note when and why they were produced?
11. Have you ever seen an ant attacking the enemies of plant-lice?
Describe.
12. How do you think this relation of ants to aphids affects
agriculture?
13. Study what the ants do for the aphids which infest your rose bushes.
Do you infer from this that it is well to exterminate the ant colonies
in your flower garden?
14. Do you know how to clear your plants of plant-lice? If so, how? If
not send to Cornell or some other experiment station for a spray
bulletin.
LEAFLET XXII.
THE BIRDS AND I.[29]
BY L. H. BAILEY.
[29] Teachers' Leaflet No. 10, May, 1898.
[Illustration]
The springtime belongs to the birds and me. We own it. We know when the
Mayflowers and the buttercups bloom. We know when the first frogs peep.
We watch the awakening of the woods. We are wet by the warm April
showers. We go where we will, and we are companions. Every tree and
brook and blade of grass is ours; and our hearts are full of song.
There are boys who kill the birds, and girls who want to catch them and
put them in cages; and there are others who steal their eggs. The birds
are not partners with them; they are only servants. Birds, like people,
sing for their friends, not for their masters. I am sure that one cannot
think much of the springtime and the flowers if his heart is always set
upon killing or catching something. We are happy when we are free; and
so are the birds.
The birds and I get acquainted all over again every spring. They have
seen strange lands in the winter, and all the brooks and woods have been
covered with snow. So we run and romp together, and find all the nooks
and crannies which we had half forgotten since October. The birds
remember the old places. The wrens pull the sticks from the old hollow
rail and seem to be wild with joy to see the place again. They must be
the same wrens that were here last year and the year before, for
strangers could not make so much fuss over an old rail. The bluebirds
and wrens look into every crack and corner for a place in which to
build, and the robins and chipping-sparrows explore every tree in the
old orchard.
If the birds want to live with us, we should encourage them. The first
thing to do is to let them alone. Let them be as free from danger and
fear as you or I. Take the hammer off the old gun, give pussy so much to
eat that she will not care to hunt for birds, and keep away the boys who
steal eggs and who carry sling-shots and throw stones. Plant trees and
bushes about the borders of the place, and let some of them, at least,
grow into tangles; then, even in the back yard, the wary cat-bird may
make its home.
For some kinds of birds we can build houses. Some of the many forms
which can be used are shown in the pictures at the end of this Leaflet.
Any ingenious boy can suggest a dozen other patterns. Although birds may
not appreciate architecture, it is well to make the houses neat and
tasty by taking pains to have the proportions correct. The floor space
in each compartment should be not less than five by six inches, and six
by six or six by eight may be better. By cutting the boards in multiples
of these numbers, one can easily make a house with several compartments;
for there are some birds, as martins, tree swallows, and pigeons that
like to live in families or colonies. The size of the doorway is
important. It should be just large enough to admit the bird. A larger
opening not only looks bad, but it exposes the inhabitants to dangers of
cats and other enemies. Birds which build in houses, aside from doves
and pigeons, are bluebirds, wrens, tree-swallows, martins, and sometimes
the chickadees. For the wren and the chickadee the opening should be an
inch augur hole, and for the others it should be about one-and-a-half
inches. Only one opening should be provided for each house or
compartment. A perch or door-step should be provided just below each
door. It is here that the birds often stop to arrange their toilets; and
when the mistress is busy with domestic affairs indoors the male-bird
often sits outside and entertains her with the latest neighborhood
gossip. These houses should be placed on poles or on buildings in
somewhat secluded places. Martins and tree-swallows like to build their
nests twenty-five feet or more above the ground, but the other birds
usually prefer an elevation less than twelve feet. Newly made houses,
and particularly newly painted ones, do not often attract the birds.
But if the birds and I are companions I must know them more intimately.
Merely building houses for them is not enough. I want to know live and
happy birds, not dead ones. We are not to know them, then, by catching
them, or stuffing them, or collecting their eggs. Persons who make a
business of studying birds may shoot birds now and then, and collect
their eggs. But these persons are scientists and they are grown-up
people. They are trying to add to the sum of human knowledge, while we
want to know birds just because we want to. But even scientists do not
take specimens recklessly. They do not rob nests. They do not kill
brooding birds. They do not make collections merely for the sake of
making them; and even their collections are less valuable than a
knowledge of the bird as it lives and flies and sings.
Boys and girls should not make collections of eggs, for these
collections are mere curiosities, as collections of spools and marbles
are. They may afford some entertainment, to be sure, but one can find
amusement in harmless ways. Some persons think that the securing of
collections makes one a naturalist, but it does not. The naturalist
cares more for things as they really are in their own homes than for
museum specimens. One does not love the birds when he steals their eggs
and breaks up their homes; and he is depriving the farmer of one of his
best friends, for birds keep insects in check.
Stuffed birds do not sing and empty eggs do not hatch. Then let us go to
the fields and watch the birds. Sit down on the soft grass and try to
make out what the robin is doing on yonder fence or why the wren is
bursting with song in the thicket. An opera-glass or spy-glass will
bring them close to you. Try to find out not only what the colors and
shapes and sizes are, but what their habits are. What does the bird eat?
How much does it eat? Where is its nest? How many eggs does it lay? What
color are they? How long does the mother bird sit? Does the father bird
care for her when she is sitting? How long do the young birds remain in
the nest? Who feeds them? What are they fed? Is there more than one
brood in a season? Where do the birds go after breeding? Do they change
their plumage? Are the mother birds and father birds unlike in size or
color? How many kinds of birds do you know?
These are some of the things that every boy or girl wants to know; and
we can find out by watching the birds! There is no harm in visiting the
nests, if one does it in the right way. I have visited hundreds of them
and have kept many records of the number of eggs and the dates when they
were laid, how long before they hatched, and when the birds flew away;
and the birds took no offense at my inquisitiveness. These are some of
the cautions to be observed: Watch only those nests which can be seen
without climbing, for if you have to climb the tree the birds will
resent it. Make the visit when the birds are absent, if possible; at
least, never scare the bird from the nest. Do not touch the eggs or the
nest. Make your visit very short. Make up your mind just what you want
to see, then look in quickly and pass on. Do not go too often; once or
twice a day will be sufficient. Do not take the other children with you,
for you are then likely to stay too long and to offend the birds.
Now let us see how intimately you can become acquainted with some bird
this summer.
[Illustration: _Fig. 159._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 162._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 160._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 163._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 161._]
[Illustration: _Suggestions for home-made bird houses._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 164._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 165._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 166._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 167._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 168._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 169._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 170._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 171._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 172._]
[Illustration: _Improvised bird houses._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 173._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 176._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 174._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 175._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 177._]
[Illustration: _Suggestions for home-made bird houses._]
LEAFLET XXIII.
THE EARLY BIRDS.[30]
BY L. A. FUERTES.
[30] Nature-Study Quarterly, No. 4: Leaflet 17, March, 1900.
[Illustration]
After a long winter, many of us are too impatient for spring to wait for
the swelling of the buds, the opening of the early flowers, and the
springing of the grass. Several weeks lie between the end of winter and
the truly genial spring days, and during this interval we look for
something to herald the settled spring season. And the thing which gives
us that for which we are unconsciously looking, more than all other
signs, is the arrival of the birds. Who has not warmed to the quavering
call of the first blue-bird, or been suddenly thrilled some early spring
day with the sunny notes of the song-sparrow!
In the southern part of this State, notably in the lower Hudson Valley,
the winter is spent by several birds which elsewhere we are accustomed
to see only after the winter has passed. Among these are the blue-bird,
robin, song-sparrow, white-throated-sparrow, meadow-lark, and possibly
the purple-finch. But in most of the State we must wait until the first
or second week in March before we can be sure of seeing any of them. It
is a question which of the earlier birds will first make its appearance,
as these early migrants are much less regular in their movements than
those that come late in April and in May, after the weather has become
settled. Many a robin and blue-bird arrives during some early warm
"spell," to find himself suddenly surrounded by flying snow and blown
about by cold winds. But these and a few other hardy ones seem able to
stand such rebuffs with great equanimity, and the momentary shining of a
fickle March sun will often evoke some pent-up song-sparrow's notes from
the shelter of a hedge or thicket. Robins, blue-birds, song-sparrows,
cowbirds, meadow-larks, phoebes, bronzed grackles, kingfishers, and
doves may be looked upon as the vanguards of the hosts of migrating
birds that come to us each year, and the first four or five may be
expected almost any time after the first week in March. If the winter
has been late, these may not appear until the middle or even the latter
part of the month, in which case one is busy keeping track of the
arrivals, as the other birds have caught up then, and all come nearly at
the same time.
It is unnecessary to give detailed descriptions of robins, bluebirds,
and song-sparrows, as nearly everyone is familiar with them; but some of
the other early comers may be more easily recognized if some field
impressions of them be given.
* * * * *
Almost any warm day in early March we may hear a thin, clear "tsssss" in
a high piping key, and on looking up see from one to five black birds,
about the size of orioles, flying in a strange undulating manner--some
up and some down, with the wings held close to their sides during the
"drop" in their flight. They are cowbirds. The flock may swirl into the
top of a tree and sit close together. (Fig. 178.) If this happens within
eyeshot, stop and watch them for a moment. One or two of the males are
almost certain to utter the ridiculous song of the species, which, like
that of their relatives, the grackles, is accompanied by the most
grotesque of actions. The bird spreads its wings to their utmost,
spreads and elevates the tail, stretches its neck upwards and forwards,
and then, quivering and tottering, nearly falls forward off the perch.
The only sound which accompanies this absurd action is a faint chuckling
"clk-sfs'k," which is scarcely to be heard a hundred feet away.
[Illustration: _Fig. 178. Cowbirds._]
* * * * *
With the cowbirds we may expect the arrival of the bronzed grackles,
which resemble them much in flight, but are larger and come in far
larger flocks--sometimes ten, sometimes a hundred or more. Their arrival
is known by the vigorous calls they utter while flying, a loud bass
"jook." When seen squabbling in the spruce trees or in the bare branches
of the willows fringing the streams, the males are likely to be giving
their "song." It is scarcely more of a note than the cowbird's, a rusty
squeak, and it is accompanied by a contortion in the same manner. It is
not such a pronounced effort, however, and is often only a slight
shudder and shrug of the shoulders. They feed, like cowbirds, mostly on
the ground, and walk about most sedately in the grass like small crows.
In tall grass, however, they waddle too much to be graceful. When taking
flight they spread their long pointed tails in a very peculiar and
characteristic manner--not out in a horizontal plane, like most birds,
but up at the sides in the shape of a gardener's trowel, which gives
them an extraordinary appearance.
* * * * *
The redwings begin to come into the marshes soon after the grackles, and
are at that time in full feather and song. Their rich, deliberate
"clonk-ka lrrrrrrr," interlarded with the clear piping whistles of some
of the flock, makes a concert of bird-notes very dear to all who are
familiar with it. In their scarlet and black velvet dress these birds
are impossible to mistake, whether seen chasing over the marshes,
singing from an elm-top, or balancing with spread tail upon some tall
reed stalk.
* * * * *
There is a bird-note so often and so justly mistaken for that of the
phoebe that the error certainly merits correction. The spring song of
the chick-a-dee (which may be heard on almost any warm day all winter,
and is very easy to call forth by even a poorly whistled imitation) is a
clear, pure "^[=eee]_{[=eee]}" or "[--__ __]" which really says
"Phoebe" much more plainly than the true phoebe note, this latter
being much lower in tone, and only to be heard after March is well on,
and almost always in the vicinity of running streams and brooklets;
while the gay little chick-a-dee whistles at any time or place that
suits his versatile fancy.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Fig. 179. Meadow larks._]
The mellow flute notes of the meadow larks (Fig. 179) float to us from
the middle of some large, open field, and are among the most beautiful
bits of bird music we ever hear. They are not to be represented by
notes, and can only be most inadequately described. There is great
variation in the sequence of notes, but all are beautifully clear and
ringing, and have a decided tinge of what would be sadness if it were
not so sweet. The bird flies in a very characteristic manner, never
raising the wings above the plane of the back, and when seen below the
horizon line always shows the white feathers in the tail. His saffron
breast and black breast-mark seldom show on the living birds, and the
mottled brown back is a wonderful safeguard against his many overhead
enemies.
* * * * *
Two or more doves may be seen winging their headlong flight through the
air. These are among the swiftest of birds, and are generally out of
eyeshot almost before you have seen them. (That is one way of knowing
what they are.) In flight, they look like small pigeons with very long
graduated tails, and when, in some old orchard or open wood, you see one
rise from the ground into a tree, the white lateral feathers in the tail
make an easily recognizable mark. (Fig. 180.) Their cooing notes are
well known--a high-pitched "overtone," followed by several long
bell-toned "[(ooooo],--[(ooooo]," notes.
[Illustration: _Fig. 180. Mourning doves._]
* * * * *
About April 1 to 10, you may hear a scratching in the dead leaves among
the underbrush in any thickly grown tangle, and upon cautiously coming
up you may discover the authors--not big grouse as you may have
supposed, but a flock of fine, vigorous fox-sparrows on their way to
their northern breeding grounds. They are bright bay fellows, with
boldly blotched brown and white breasts, diligently scattering the
leaves for their food of seeds, spiders, ants, and various insects. If
you have been fortunate enough not to have been seen you may hear their
song, which is one of the finest of our sparrow songs, readily
recognizable as such, though not resembling any of its fellows--a clear,
vigorous carol, often ending abruptly with a rather unmusical "clip."
If, however, they have seen you, you will be treated to a sharp "tseep!"
and a rear view of a flock of rapidly retreating birds, for they are not
sociable (with us, at least), and generally take a hint to move on
before you know of their presence. They do not stay long with us on
their migration, and seeing them one day is no indication that you can
find them the next.
* * * * *
Although the white-throated sparrows spend the winter in our southern
counties, they do not start their northward journey as early as we might
expect, and it is not until the first part of April that we may be sure
of finding them. I have one list, indeed that shows their first
appearance on May first!
They are to be found in places similar to those which the fox-sparrows
choose, and are very similar to them in habits, but the boldly striped
head and gray breast are very distinctive marks. Almost all of our
native sparrows have a call note, the "tsweep" note, which is hard to
distinguish in the different species without much patient listening--and
I doubt if any person is infallible in this distinction. The
white-throat has this note, as well as the song-sparrow, tree-sparrow (a
winter-bird), fox-sparrow, white-crown, chippy, field-sparrow,
grass-finch, in fact all our brown-backed sparrows. But the song of the
white-throat is his own, and may be heard frequently during his very
leisurely journey through our state. His Canadian name, "Peabody bird"
is descriptive of his notes, "-- _.., _.., _.." When a number get
together and whistle, as if they were singing a round, it makes a very
sweet concert.
[Illustration: _Fig. 181. White-throated sparrow._]
* * * * *
One of the foremost birds in the spring movement is the grass-finch
(vesper-sparrow or bay-winged bunting). It is to be found in open fields
and along roadside fences, in company with meadow larks, and its sweet
song may be heard almost any warm evening after the middle of April.
Unlike most of our birds, this sparrow sings at its best late in the
afternoon and during twilight, which perhaps makes its song seem the
sweeter. It is rather a gentle song, though to be heard at some
distance, carrying quite as far as that of the song-sparrow. Although
the quality of voice is somewhat similar in these two birds,
the grass-finch lacks the merry abandon that characterizes the
song-sparrow's song, but has instead a deeper chord, which is called by
some people sadness. The bird may be easily recognized in the fields by
the white tail-feathers, which always show in flight. It is about the
size and general color of the song-sparrow.
* * * * *
By the time the foregoing birds are comparatively common, and the maple
buds are bursting and the lilacs swelling, the gay purple finch appears.
He is not purple at all, but has a crimson head, which fades on the
lower breast through rosy pink into pure white. He is fond of spruces
and larches, feeding greedily on the tender buds as well as on the ants
and scale insects that infest them. His song is a fine one, and in
addition to the charm of being poured forth in full flight, is so long
and intricate that one finds himself holding his breath as the burst of
melody continues, as if to help the little fellow catch up with his
music.
* * * * *
Along the banks of some lake or stream, sitting idly on a telegraph pole
or wire, rising and settling, elevating and depressing his long parted
top-knot, a patriarchal old kingfisher may be seen silently awaiting the
gleam of a shiner in the water below (Fig. 182). Or perhaps you may
first see him flying like a big woodpecker, screaming his chattering cry
high in the air, or scaling close to the water under the fringing
hemlock branches that overhang the stream. His large size, slate-blue
back, loud notes, and characteristic flight make him a hard bird to
mistake in any case.
[Illustration: _Fig. 182. Kingfisher._]
* * * * *
There are many other birds which pass us on their way north, but they
herald rather the summer than the breaking of spring. The following list
of spring migrations is taken from Mr. Chapman's "Handbook of the Birds
of Eastern North America," and was compiled for use about New York City.
The dates nearly coincide with those I have found about the central part
of the State, and are, in the main, only a few days in advance of those
for the northern counties. The latter dates in the column are about what
may be taken for the middle tier of counties.
It is the earnest hope of the writer that these few very brief
sketches may be of use to those interested in entering the delightful
field of the study of birds; your experience may and probably
will be different from that which I have cited, which only goes to
show that everyone must really see for himself, and not only that,
but by so doing may make new observations and get new ideas on
practically all of even our best known birds. Birds are not, as a
rule, hard to watch, and the patience it requires to sit still and
"be a stump" long enough for birds to cease noticing you is soon
and amply repaid by the new insight into an unknown realm
which is sure to follow.
LIST OF BIRDS COMPRISING THE SPRING MIGRATION.
(Until April 20--Approximate.)
(_Taken from Chapman's Handbook of Birds of Eastern North
America._)
Date of arrival.
Feb. 15-Mar. 10. Purple Grackle.
Rusty Grackle.
Red-winged Blackbird.
Robin.
Bluebird.
Mar. 10-20 Woodcock.
Phoebe.
Meadow Lark.
Cowbird.
Fox-sparrow.
Mar. 20-31 Wilson's Snipe.
Kingfisher.
Mourning Dove.
Swamp-sparrow.
Field-sparrow.
April 1-10 Great Blue Heron.
Purple Finch.
Vesper-sparrow.
Savanna-sparrow.
Chipping-sparrow.
Tree Swallow.
Myrtle Warbler.
American Pipit.
Hermit Thrush.
April 10-20 Yellow-bellied Woodpecker.
Barn Swallow.
Yellow Palm Warbler.
Pine Warbler.
Louisiana Water Thrush.
Ruby-crowned Kinglet.
LEAFLET XXIV.
THE WOODPECKERS.[31]
BY ANNA BOTSFORD COMSTOCK.
[31] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. IV, No. 30, March, 1903.
[Illustration]
It is best to follow some definite line of bird study for an entire
year. All of the observations that could be made in a single month on
any bird would give but an inadequate idea of its habits. To know the
life of a bird, one must study it month by month for at least one year.
The woodpeckers seem a most attractive group for our study. They are not
only very interesting, but of great importance to the farmer, orchadist
and forester. There are five common species in New York State that we
all may learn to know, and then make observations of our own on their
habits. These species are the downy, the hairy, the sapsucker, the
flicker and the redhead. The way to begin our observations in winter is
to tie a piece of suet to the branch of some tree easily observed from
our windows. Such a bird feast as this is on a branch of a chestnut oak
in front of my office window, and though I never have time to watch more
than momentarily the birds that come there to eat, yet each glance tells
me something of their ways, and my own day's work is much brighter and
happier therefor. The "downy" (Fig. 183), as he is universally called,
comes with his mate every day and they eat greedily of the suet; when
they first arrive they are so absorbed in working this food mine that I
sometimes stand directly beneath and watch them without frightening
them. Perhaps they know that I am the friend who invited them to
breakfast. Anyway, as soon as they leave the suet they hunt
industriously over my tree, finding there all of the hidden insects, and
thus they keep my oak clean and pay for their breakfast. Occasionally
the hairy woodpecker comes, a self-invited guest to the suet banquet. To
the untrained eye he looks very like an over-grown downy, as he is by
two or three inches the longer; but his outer tail feathers are
entirely white, while the downy's are barred with black; usually the red
cap of the hairy is divided by a black stripe. The hairy is said to be a
shy bird, but I have seen him several times this winter at a suet party
near dwellings.
In April there is likely to appear in any region of New York State a
bird which is often mistaken for the downy or hairy, although it is very
different in both coloring and habits. This is the sapsucker, the only
woodpecker of bad repute (Fig. 184). However, I am sure its deeds are
not nearly so black as they are painted. The male sapsucker has a bright
red crown and chin and throat, his breast is yellow, and he is also
yellowish on the back; while the males of the downy and hairy are
red-capped and black and white with no yellow.
[Illustration: _Fig. 183. Downy woodpecker._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 184. Sapsucker._]
QUESTIONS ON WOODPECKERS TO BE ANSWERED IN MARCH.
1. What is the difference in appearance between the male and female
downy?
2. How does the downy travel down a tree; does it go head-first? What
food have you seen it eat?
3. How does the downy use its tail in going up and down the tree trunk?
4. Have you approached a woodpecker closely enough to see how its toes
are arranged? If so, describe them.
5. How does it manage its head to make its blows forceful?
6. Are you able to discriminate between the hairy and the downy when you
see them? How?
7. Do you know the difference in the notes of the hairy and downy?
Explain.
DOWNY, SAPSUCKER AND RED-HEAD.[32]
[32] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. IV, No. 31, April, 1903.
This morning I was awakened by the beating of a drum over in the woods.
My ear was not yet sufficiently trained so that I knew whether my
drummer was Mr. Downy or Mr. Hairy, yet I strongly suspected the former.
The tattoo of the Sapsucker (which does not nest here) James Whitcomb
Riley has aptly characterized as "Weeding out the lonesomeness." This is
exactly what the drumming of woodpeckers in the early spring means. The
male selects some dried limb of hard wood and there beats out his
well-known signal which advertises far and near, "Wanted, a wife." And
after he wins her he keeps on drumming to cheer her, while she is busy
with her family cares. The woodpecker has no voice for singing, like the
robin or thrush, and realizing his deficiency, he does not insist on
singing like the peacock, whether he can or no. He chooses rather to
devote his voice to terse and business-like conversation, and when he is
musically inclined he turns drummer. He is rather particular about his
instrument, and, having found one that pleases him in tone, returns to
it day after day.
In case the drumming I heard this morning was an advertisement for a
wife, I am interested to know what has become of Mrs. Downy, who has
been true to her mate all winter. Does, perhaps, the springtime bring
divorce as well as marriage? Mr. Burroughs tells of a downy that was
absolutely brutal in his treatment of his mate in winter, not allowing
her to live in his neighborhood. Be this as it may, the downy and the
hairy woodpeckers that have feasted upon my suet this winter have
invariably come in pairs, and while only one at a time sits at meat, and
the lord and master is somewhat "bossy," yet they seem to get along as
well as most married pairs.
The sapsucker is a woodpecker that has strayed from the paths of
virtue; he has fallen into temptation by the wayside, and instead of
drilling a hole for the sake of the grub at the end of it he drills it
for its own sake. He is a tippler and sap is his beverage. He is
especially fond of the sap of the mountain ash, apple, thorn apple,
canoe birch, red maple, red oak and white ash. He drills his holes in
beautiful rows, and sometimes girdles a limb or tree, and for this he is
pronounced a rascal by men who have themselves ruthlessly cut from our
land millions of trees that should now be standing. However, the
sapsucker does not live solely on sap and the soft cambium layer of the
tree; he also feeds on insects wherever he finds them. When feeding
their young, sapsuckers are true flycatchers, getting the insects while
on the wing. If you find a sapsucker girdling a tree in your orchard or
a birch on your lawn, just protect the trees with a wire netting, and
let the sapsucker catch mosquitoes for you instead, and remember that he
belongs to a good family and is entitled to some consideration, even if
he has taken to drink.
The red-head (Fig. 185) is well named, for his helmet and visor show a
vivid, glowing crimson that stirs the sensibilities of the color lover.
He is readily distinguished from all other woodpeckers because his
entire head and the bib under his chin are red. For the rest, he is a
beautiful dark metallic blue and white. He is a most adept drummer, and
his roll is a long one. One that I observed last spring selected a dead
limb at the top of an oak tree and there he drummed merrily every
morning. He is an adaptable fellow and has been known to drum on tin
roofs and lightning rods, thus braving the dangers of civilization for
the sake of better music. Though he can rattle so well when he is
musically inclined, he is not, after all, much of a woodpecker, for he
lives mostly on insects which he catches while they are crawling or on
the wing, and he also likes nuts. He is especially fond of beech nuts,
and, being a thrifty fellow as well as musical, in time of plenty he
stores up food against time of need. He places his nuts in crevices and
forks of branches, in holes in trees, and other hiding places. Lets us
watch him this spring and see whether we can discover what he eats.
[Illustration: _Fig. 185. The Red-headed Woodpecker._]
QUESTIONS ABOUT WOODPECKERS TO BE ANSWERED IN APRIL AND MAY.
1. Have you observed any species of woodpecker drumming?
2. Have you been able to see the drum? If so, describe it.
3. Are you able to distinguish between the tapping of the woodpecker
when searching for food, and his drumming when he is making music?
4. If you have made any observations on the sapsucker, please give them.
5. Have you seen the sapsucker at work? If so, did the holes girdle the
tree? Were the holes round or square?
6. Have you seen the red-head this spring?
7. Describe the way the woodpecker uses its tail when climbing a tree.
8. Send for Bulletin No. 7, of the United States Department of
Agriculture, Division of Ornithology, called "Food of Woodpeckers." Read
this Bulletin and answer these questions: Does the sapsucker do more
harm than good? What special benefit to us is the red-head? Which is the
most useful of our woodpeckers?
THE FLICKER OR YELLOW HAMMER.[33]
[33] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. IV, No. 32, May, 1903.
The first time I ever saw a flicker I said, "What a wonderful meadow
lark, and what is it doing on that ant hill?" But another glance
revealed to me a red spot on the back of the bird's neck, and as soon as
I was sure that this was not a bloody gash I knew it belonged to no
meadow lark. The golden brown plumage dotted with black, the under wings
of luminous yellow, the white spot above the tail, the ashen gray back,
and, above all, the oriental ornaments of crescents,--one brilliant red
across the back of the neck, one black across the breast,--all conduce
to make the flicker one of our most showy and beautiful birds. The
flicker has many names, such as golden-winged woodpecker, yellow hammer,
highhole, and yarup or wake-up, and many others. It earned the name of
highhole because of its way of excavating its nest high up in trees,
usually between ten and twenty-five feet from the ground. It especially
loves an old apple tree as a site for a nest, and most of our large, old
orchards of New York State may boast of a pair of these handsome birds
during the nesting season of May and June. However, the flicker is not
above renting any house he finds vacant which was made by other birds
last year. The flicker earned his name of "yarup" or "wake-up" from his
spring song, which is a rollicking jolly "wick-a-wick-a-wick." As a
business bird the flicker shines in the rather extraordinary line of
eating ants. It has a tongue equipped almost exactly like the tongue of
the animal called the ant eater, and it often may be seen using it with
great effectiveness in catching the little communal laborers.
[Illustration: _Fig. 186. Young Flickers._]
Those who have observed the flicker during the courting season declare
him to be the most silly and vain of all the bird wooers. Mr. Baskett
says, "When he wishes to charm his sweet-heart he mounts a very small
twig near her, and lifts his wings, spreads his tail, and begins to nod
right and left as he exhibits his mustache to his charmer, and sets his
jet locket first on one side of the twig and then the other. He may even
go so far as to turn his head half around to show her the pretty spot on
his 'back hair.' In doing all this he performs the most ludicrous
antics, and has the silliest of expressions of face and voice as if in
losing his heart, as some one phrases it, he had lost his head also."
SUMMARY OF THE STUDY OF WOODPECKERS.
We have now studied our five species of woodpeckers common in New York
State, and I trust that you know them all by sight. When you are
teaching the children about the woodpecker, there are many interesting
stories to tell about the way that his form is adapted to his life. Some
of these stories are as follows: First. The woodpecker's bill, which is
a drill and chisel, and how he uses it for getting at the grub or the
borer in the wood, and for making the hole for the nest, and for
drumming when he feels musical. Second. The tongue, which is a barbed
spear, and has a wonderful spring attachment of bones which allows it to
be thrust far out. This tongue is fitted in each case to get the kind of
food which sustains its owner. Third. The feet have a special
arrangement of toes which allows the bird to cling tenaciously to a tree
trunk. Study the way the fourth toe, which may be compared to our little
finger, has been moved around backward so that it acts as another thumb.
Fourth. Study how the tail made of stiff feathers is particularly
adapted to act as a brace, helping the bird to climb a tree. In studying
all these things I would especially recommend you to a little book
called, "The Woodpeckers" by Fannie Hardy Eckstrom, published by
Houghton, Mifflin & Co., price $1.00.
QUESTIONS ON THE FLICKER.
1. Have you ever seen a flicker?
2. Do you know its song?
3. Has the flicker a straight bill like the downy's?
4. What are the differences between the male and female flicker?
5. Have you ever seen a flicker catching ants? Describe.
6. Do you think the flicker is a beneficial bird? If so, why?
7. Have you ever seen a flicker's nest? Describe.
8. Do you know how the flicker feeds its young? Explain.
9. Describe the difference in color between the male and female of the
(a) downy, (b) the hairy, (c) the redhead, (d) the sapsucker, (e) and
the flicker.
10. How can you tell the difference between a flicker and a meadow lark
during flight?
[Illustration: _Downy's long tongue._]
LEAFLET XXV.
THE CHICKADEE.[34]
[34] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. V, No. 3, December, 1903.
BY ANNA BOTSFORD COMSTOCK.
_He is the hero of the woods; there are courage and good nature
enough in that compact little body, which you may hide in your
fist, to supply a whole groveful of May songsters. He has the
Spartan virtue of an eagle, the cheerfulness of a thrush, the
nimbleness of Cock Sparrow, the endurance of the seabirds
condensed into his tiny frame, and there have been added a
pertness and ingenuity all his own. His curiosity is immense, and
his audacity equal to it; I have even had one alight upon the
barrel of the gun over my shoulder as I sat quietly under his
tree._--ERNEST INGERSOLL.
[Illustration]
However careless we may be of our friends when we are in the midst of
the luxurious life of summer, even the most careless among us give
pleased attention to the birds that bravely endure with us the rigors of
winter. And when this winged companion of winter proves to be the most
fascinating little ball of feathers ever created, constantly overflowing
with cheerful song, our pleased attention changes to active delight.
Thus it is that in all the lands of snowy winters the chickadee
is a loved comrade of the country wayfarer; that happy song,
"chick-a-dee-dee-dee," finds its way to the dullest consciousness and
the most callous heart.
One day in February we were, with much enjoyment, wading through a
drifted highway that skirted a forest, the least twig of which bore a
burden of soft snow. Over all hung that silence of winter which is the
most "silent silence" that rests upon the earth anywhere outside the
desert. No breeze swayed a creaking branch or shook from it the snow in
soft thud to the white carpet below. Even the song of the brook was
smothered beneath coverlets of ice and pillows of drift. We stood fast,
awed by the stillness, when suddenly it was broken by the thrilling
notes of the chickadees. We could hardly credit our senses, for it
seemed as if the woods was a hopeless place for any living creature that
morning. But there before our eyes was a flock of these courageous birds
hunting for food on the leeward sides of boles and branches left bare
and black in the recent storm. Their tiny weights sent the snow in
showers from the terminal twigs, which phenomenon was greeted with
triumphant song while the cheerful midgets hunted the relieved branches
topside and bottomside for any lurking tidbit. As we watched them,
Emerson's poem came to mind:
"Piped a tiny voice near by,
Gay and polite, a cheerful cry--
Chick-chickadeedee! saucy note
Out of sound heart and merry throat,
As if it said, 'Good-day, good Sir!
Fine afternoon, old passenger!
Happy to meet you in these places
Where January brings few faces.'"
No wonder that the great American philosopher was attracted by this
other American philosopher who sings when he is cold and hungry.
[Illustration: _Fig. 187. A chickadee at the entrance to its nest._]
Besides its usual song the chickadee has a song that says "phoebe" much
more distinctly than does the song of the phoebe itself. Few people
recognize this, and often in February or early March it is announced in
the local newspaper, "The phoebe-birds were heard to-day" though it may
be weeks yet before these birds arrive. The two songs may be easily
distinguished by even the ear untrained to music. In the phoebe song of
the chickadee, the last syllable is at least one note lower than the
first and has a falling inflection; while the last syllable of the
phoebe bird's song is at least a half note higher than the first and has
a rising inflection.
Not long since I visited the deserted nest of a devoted pair of
chickadees. It was cuddled down in the bottom of a hole that
opened on the very top of a fence post, and, one would imagine,
must have been wet more than once while inhabited. However,
a large family was raised there during the past season and much
enjoyment was derived from watching the many fubsy birdlings
that found home and comfort in that unattractive retreat. I
looked upon them with special interest, for I was sure they would
visit the suet on my trees this winter and thus become friendly
neighbors.
As soon as the trees are bare, nail or tie bits of suet to branches
which may be observed from your windows. I know of no investment which
pays such enormous dividends both to pleasure and pocket as do suet
restaurants in orchards patronized by chickadees. Every child, at home
or school, will be attracted by this experiment.
QUESTIONS ON THE CHICKADEE.
1. Describe the colors of the chickadee above; below; wings; tail;
throat and head.
2. Describe the differences in coloring between the chickadee and the
nuthatch.
3. What is the shape of the chickadee's beak and for what is it adapted?
4. Does it frequent the trunks of trees, or the twigs?
5. Describe its actions when hunting for food on a twig.
6. What is the chief food of the chickadee?
7. Why is it of special value to the farmer?
8. What are the differences in the winter and summer habits of the
chickadee?
9. Do you know the "phoebe" note of the chickadee?
10. Where do these birds build their nests and of what material?
11. What are the colors and markings on the eggs?
12. When is the nesting season?
LEAFLET XXVI.
THE WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH.[35]
BY ANNA BOTSFORD COMSTOCK.
[35] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. V, No. 4, January, 1904.
The busy nuthatch climbs his tree,
Around the great bole spirally,
Peeping into wrinkles gray,
Under ruffled lichens gay,
Lazily piping one sharp note
From his silver mailèd throat.
--MAURICE THOMPSON.
"_With more artless inquisitiveness than fear, this lively little
acrobat stops his hammering or hatching at your approach, and stretching
himself out from the tree until it would seem he must fall off, he peers
down at you, head downward, straight into your upturned opera-glass. If
there is too much snow on the upper side of a branch watch how he runs
along underneath it like a fly, busily tapping the bark, or adroitly
breaking the decayed bits with his bill, as he stretches for the
spider's eggs, larvæ, etc., hidden there; yet somehow, between
mouthfuls, managing to call out his cherry quank! quank! hank! hank!_"
--NELTJE BLANCHAN.
[Illustration]
A voice outside is calling at me; I cannot describe it accurately, but
it is making delightful woodsy remarks that make me long to throw aside
the pen and go out and wander where the snow is making still softer the
carpet of dead leaves on the forest floor. It is not a musical note but
it is most enticing and translates into sound the picture of
bare-branched trees and the feeling of enchantment that permeates the
forest in winter. Neltje Blanchan says the voice reiterates "quank,
quank," others say it is "nay, nay"--but no nasal sound of the human
voice, and no spelling of the English language adequately represent this
call of the white-breasted nuthatch.
On the tree in front of the window I can see the owner of this sylvan
voice. He is a little bird blue-gray above with black head and black and
white V-trimmings on the back of his suit and with soft, white breast.
He is flitting blithely from tree to tree enjoying the snow storm and
coming often to the suet feast which I have spread for him and for his
little feathered kin.
[Illustration: _Fig. 188. The nuthatch, one of the winter birds._]
We have been having exciting times at the suet banquet this morning. The
building in which my office is, stands on a high knoll near the
forest-covered brink of a deep gorge. Thus my window is opposite the
tops of the trees. One of our nature-study staff, a brave and gallant
knight, who loves birds and knows that I love to watch them, climbed two
of these trees at imminent risk of breaking his neck in order to place
this suet just opposite my window. The whole chickadee family and four
nuthatches, and Sir Downy and Madam Hairy had been reveling in the feast
all the morning when suddenly one after another three crows appeared
upon the scene. My heart sank as I saw them eying the suet with
interest. Nearer and nearer they hopped from branch to branch. I pounded
on the window and called out, "Go away" in both the crow and the English
language, all in vain. One crow braver or hungrier than the others with
one defiant eye on me flapped confidently down and sought to carry the
suet off in his beak; to his surprise it was tied on. That seemed
suspicious and when we raised the window and leaning far out explained
matters he lifted slowly with a jeering "caw" that said plainly "I'll
call sometime when you are not at home" and with that he and his
companions disappeared up the gorge. The invited guests at the suet
table were less disturbed than was I, and I suppose it is rather
inconsistent to feed the chickadees and let the ravens go hungry. But
this suet will last the little birds a month while it would hardly
furnish a breakfast for three crows; and in philanthropic enterprises
one is obliged to draw the line somewhere even at the cost of
consistency.
I will return to my nuthatch, who, by the way, has just hammered off a
piece of suet and thrust it into a crevice of the bark on the tree
bole. Why does he do that: is it for convenience in eating or is it an
attempt to store up some of his dinner for future need? Anyway it is bad
manners, like carrying off fruit from _table d' hote_. But he is polite
enough in another respect; every time after eating the suet he wipes his
beak on his branch napkin with great assiduity, first one side and then
the other, almost as if he were sharpening it. The woodpeckers are
similarly fastidious in cleaning suet off their beaks.
The loud note of the nuthatch, seeming to be out of proportion to the
size of the bird is, by no means, its only note. Yesterday we observed a
pair hunting over the branches of an elm over our heads, and they were
talking to each other in sweet confidential syllables "wit, wit, wit,"
entirely different from the loud note that is meant for the world at
large.
The nuthatches and chickadees hunt together all winter. This is no
business partnership, but one of congeniality based upon similar tastes.
Thus it is that the two birds are often confused. There is, however, a
very noticeable character that distinguishes them at the first glance.
Strange to say the nuthatch has also been confused with the sapsucker
and has gained unjust obloquy thereby. How any one with eyes could
confuse these two birds is a mystery, for they resemble each other in no
particular nor in general appearance.
While the nuthatch finds much of its food on trees, yet Mr. Torrey tells
of seeing one awkwardly turning over the fallen leaves for hidden
cocoons and other things quite worth his while; and Mr. Baskett tells of
having seem them catch flies in the air and becoming quite out of breath
at this unusual exercise.
Audubon made some most interesting observations on the nuthatch. He says
they may sleep hanging head downward. He also says of their nesting
habits that "both birds work together, all the time congratulating each
other in the tenderest manner. The male, ever conspicuous on such
occasions, works some, and carries off the slender chips chiseled by the
female. He struts around her, peeps into the hole, cherups at intervals,
or hovers about her on the wing. While she is sitting on her eggs, he
seldom absents himself many moments; now with a full bill he feeds her,
now returns to be assured that her time is pleasantly spent."
The red-breasted nuthatch is sometimes associated with its
white-breasted cousin; it is a smaller bird and is essentially a
northern species. The nuthatches get their name from their habit of
wedging nuts and acorns into bark and then hatching them open. From
every standpoint the nuthatches are most desirable acquaintances, and we
cannot spend our time to better advantage than in getting familiar with
their interesting habits.
QUESTIONS ON THE WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH.
1. Describe from your own observations the colors of the nuthatch above
and below.
2. (a) What is the most noticeable character that distinguishes the
nuthatch from the chickadee? (b) Does the nuthatch usually frequent the
bole or the twigs of a tree? (c) Is there any difference in this respect
between the habits of the nuthatch and the chickadee?
3. Does the nuthatch alight with its head down or up?
4. Does it travel down or up? Does it always go in a spiral?
5. What is its food?
6. Does it open nuts for the meat or the grubs within?
7. Does it use its tail as a brace in climbing trees as does the
woodpecker?
8. Where does it build its nest?
9. What is the color of the eggs?
10. Why does it seem less common in summer than in winter?
11. How does it use its feet when resting on a tree trunk?
12. Has it any special development of the feet to help it in traveling
on tree trunks?
13. Do you know the note of the nuthatch? Describe.
14. How would you spell its note?
15. How does the nuthatch help the farmer and fruit grower?
LEAFLET XXVII.
ABOUT CROWS.[36]
BY MARY ROGERS MILLER.
[36] Home Nature-Study Course, Vol. IV, No. 27, December, 1902.
[Illustration]
Thousands and thousands of crows fast asleep amongst the branches of a
grove of pines! The trees themselves look dark and sombre against the
snowy hillside, but when the assemblage of dusky birds has gathered
there, the shadows thicken and the darkness settles like a pall. Soon
all is hushed and silent.
Would you not go miles to see such a sight?
Yet maybe you have lived for years within easy walking distance of a
great crow "dormitory" without even suspecting its existence. You may
have watched the crows flying overhead every morning and then again
every afternoon, without noticing that they came from the same direction
each morning and returned at nightfall. This was just my experience
until I began to care about crows and their ways. Now I know that there
is a sleeping roost a mile or so up one of our wooded valleys and the
oldest inhabitant tells me that he remembers seeing "more'n a million"
crows up there in winters when he was a boy. Undoubtedly generation
after generation of crows return to these sleeping places; certain
localities have probably been so used for centuries.
Although we have crows here all winter they may not be the same
individuals that spent the summer here. The center of crow population in
the eastern United States from November till February is the
neighborhood of Chesapeake Bay. There the food supply is more abundant
than where the ground is snow-covered in winter, and thither the crows
migrate in innumerable armies. Dormitories from ten to thirty acres in
extent and accommodating from ten thousand to three hundred thousand
crows each have been found in that region.
Why crows gather thus in companies either small or large is undoubtedly
due to their natural sociability. The opportunities for exhibition of
conversational powers offered by such a custom seems to be greatly
appreciated by every crow. Such a babel as they raise when in early
morning their watchman rouses them from sleep! They appear to be
reviling him for his untimely interruption. For several minutes the
woods fairly ring with their loud, coarse shouts. Then, as if resigned
to their fate, they take flight towards the feeding grounds. By sunset
they all congregate again and after recounting their adventures, settle
down early to sleep.
In open winters crows fare well enough. Seeds and berries are easy to
get and considerable grain may be found in harvested fields. But like
barnyard fowls, crows are omnivorous. After the grasshoppers disappear,
a supply of animal food is hard to get. The silken egg-sacs of spiders
are often found torn open and rifled, while suspiciously near by are the
tracks of crows. Undoubtedly rabbits and field mice would unite with the
spiders in declaring the crow to be their deadly enemy.
That crows eat corn is undeniable. The farmers know it to their sorrow,
the bird's champions reluctantly admit it, the crow himself goes openly
into the field, both in winter and summer, with no intent to conceal his
intentions. And yet this universally acknowledged habit will bear
investigation. Upon the real or supposed injury done to sprouting corn
and to roasting-ears, the farmer and his sons base their animosity
toward crows and rejoice at the wholesale or retail slaughter of these
birds. Carefully prepared estimates show conclusively that the crow is
the farmer's friend. Only _three per cent_ of the total food of the crow
consists of corn in any form, while _twenty-six per cent_ consists of
insects such as grasshoppers, May beetles (June bugs, whose young are
the white grubs), cutworms and other injurious kinds. On such evidence
as this would not an unprejudiced jury acquit the crow?
The best way to establish the crow in this new and true relationship to
the farmer, is to interest the boys and girls in studying crows and
their ways. To make a fair judgment, one must collect evidence. Mere
hearsay is not always to be depended on. Justice and truth are worth
working for. The case of the Crow _vs._ the Farmer, will give
opportunity for the practice of both of these virtues.
WINTER BIRDS.[37]
[37] Quiz on Lesson No. 27, December, 1902.
The winter is not so devoid of life as we sometimes think. There are
mammals in the woods and coverts, fishes in the lakes and deep brooks,
birds in the forest and the open. Let us devote one early midwinter
lesson to the birds. Have the children make particular observations on
the English sparrow. Other birds may be observed, as, for example, our
old friend the crow. All these birds touch the life of the farmer and
the nature-lover. Those students who are so situated that a study of
crows is impossible may substitute English sparrows, chickadees,
woodpeckers or any other winter birds.
A bulletin entitled "The Common Crow" was issued by the U. S. Department
of Agriculture in 1895. Students in this course can obtain one copy each
by sending ten cents to Superintendent of Documents, Union Building,
Washington, D. C. Do not send stamps.
Do crows winter in your vicinity?
Are you able to verify the statements made in the lesson concerning the
flight in opposite directions in morning and evening? Give observations
made since receiving this lesson.
Is there a crow dormitory in your vicinity? (Inquire of old residents
and keep a close watch.)
Watch a crow on the wing. If he is flying low, try to count the big wing
feathers. Note here any peculiarities of this bird's way of flying.
How does a crow hold on to a limb when asleep?
What characteristics have crows and chickens in common?
How do they differ?
Compare feathers, bills and feet of chickens and crows.
Look for crow tracks in the snow. Where have you seen them? Can you
always tell which way the bird was going? How? Sketch the tracks on
separate sheet.
How long is the longest toe, including the claw? Which toe is this?
Is the track ever longer than the toe itself? If so, why?
Have you ever seen the scratches in the snow made by the stiff wing
feathers when the crow takes its flight from the ground?
Count the scratches.
What food have you seen crows eating?
Watch during the whole month and mention any new items you can add to
their bill of fare.
Have you ever seen crow's nests? Where? When?
Describe the nest, eggs and nestlings, if you have seen them. (These are
things to look for during the spring and summer.)
Does the plumage of the yearling crow differ from that of the older
birds?
Do males and females differ in color?
Crows are said to possess remarkably well developed brains. What
evidence have you of their sagacity, fearlessness, cunning or greed?
What other winter birds have you seen this year?
Give on separate sheet an account of a winter walk.
LEAFLET XXVIII.
HOW A SQUASH PLANT GETS OUT OF THE SEED.[38]
BY L. H. BAILEY.
[38] Teacher's Leaflet No. 1, December, 1896. The first Cornell
nature-study leaflet. For a discussion of the title of this leaflet and
what it signifies pedagogically, consult "The Integument Man," in "The
Nature-Study Idea." (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
[Illustration]
If one were to plant seeds of a Hubbard or Boston Marrow squash in loose
warm earth in a pan or box, and were then to leave the parcel for a week
or ten days, he would find, upon his return, a colony of plants like
that shown in Fig. 189. If he had not planted the seeds himself or had
not seen such plants before, he would not believe that these curious
plants would ever grow into squash vines, so different are they from the
vines which we know in the garden. This, itself, is a most curious
fact,--this wonderful difference between the first and the later stages
of nearly all plants, and it is only because we know it so well that we
do not wonder at it.
[Illustration: _Fig. 189. Squash plant a week old._]
It may happen, however,--as it did in a pan of seed which I sowed a few
days ago--that one or two of the plants may look like that shown in Fig.
190. Here the seed seems to have come up on top of the plant; and one is
reminded of the curious way in which beans come up on the stalk of the
young plant. If we were to study the matter, however,--as we may do at a
future time--we should find a great difference in the ways in which the
squashes and the beans raise their seeds out of the ground. It is not
our purpose to compare the squash and the bean at this time, but we are
curious to know why one of these squash plants brings its seed up out of
the ground whilst all the others do not. In order to find out why it is,
we must ask the plant, and this asking is what we call an experiment. We
may first pull up the two plants. The first one (Fig. 189) will be seen
to have the seed-coats still attached to the very lowest part of the
stalk below the soil, but the other plant has no seed at that point. We
will now plant more seeds, a dozen or more of them, so that we shall
have enough to examine two or three times a day for several days. A day
or two after the seeds are planted, we shall find a little point or
root-like part breaking out of the sharp end of the seed, as shown in
Fig. 191. A day later this root part has grown to be as long as the seed
itself (Fig. 192), and it has turned directly downwards into the soil.
But there is another most interesting thing about this germinating seed.
Just where the root is breaking out of the seed (shown at _a_ in Fig.
192), there is a little peg or projection. In Fig. 193, about a day
later, the root has grown still longer, and this peg seems to be forcing
the seed apart. In Fig, 194, however, it will be seen that the seed is
really being forced apart by the stem or stalk above the peg for this
stem is now growing longer. The lower lobe of the seed has attached to
the peg (seen at _a_, Fig. 194), and the seed-leaves seem to be backing
out of the seed. Fig. 195 shows the seed a day later. The root has now
produced many branches and has thoroughly established itself in the
soil. The top is also growing rapidly and is still backing out of the
seed, and the seed-coats are still firmly held by the obstinate peg.
[Illustration: _Fig. 190. Squash plant which has brought the seed-coats
out of the ground._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 191. Germination just beginning._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 192. The root and peg._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 193. Third day of root growth._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 194. The plant breaking out of the seed._]
Whilst we have been seeing all these peculiar things in the seeds which
we have dug up, the plantlets which we have not disturbed have been
coming through the soil. If we were to see the plant in Fig. 195, as it
was "coming up," it would look like Fig. 196. It is tugging away in
getting its head out of the bonnet which is pegged down underneath the
soil, and it has "got its back up" in the operation. In Fig. 197 it has
escaped from its trap and it is laughing and growing in delight. It must
now straighten itself up, as it is doing in Fig. 197, and it is soon
standing proud and straight, as in Fig. 189. We now see that the reason
why the "seed" came up on the plant in Fig. 190, is that in some way the
peg did not hold the seed-coats down (see Fig. 195), and the expanding
leaves, being pinched together must get themselves loose as best they
can.
[Illustration: _Fig. 195. The operation further progressed._]
There is another thing about this interesting squash plant which we must
not fail to notice, and this is the fact that these first two leaves of
the plantlet came out of the seed and did not grow out of the plant
itself. We must notice, too, that these leaves are much smaller when
they are first drawn out of the seed-coat than they are when the
plantlet has straightened itself up. That is, these leaves increase very
much in size after they reach the light and air. The roots of the
plantlet are now established in the soil and are taking in food which
enables the plant to grow. The next leaves which appear will be very
different from these first or seed leaves.
These later ones are called the true leaves. They grow right out of the
little plant itself. Fig. 199 shows these true leaves as they appear on
a young Crookneck squash plant, and the plant now begins to look much
like a squash vine.
[Illustration: _Fig. 196. The plant just coming up._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 197. The plant liberated from the seed-coats._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 198. The plant straightening up._]
We are now curious to know how the stem grows when it backs out of the
seeds and pulls the little seed-leaves with it, and how the root grows
downwards into the soil. Now let us pull up another seed when it has
sent a single root about two inches deep into the earth. We will wash it
very carefully and lay it upon a piece of paper. Then we will lay a
ruler alongside of it, and make an ink mark one-quarter of an inch from
the tip, and two or three other marks at equal distances above (Fig.
200).[39] We will now carefully replant the seed. Two days later we will
dig it up, when we shall most likely find a condition somewhat like that
in Fig. 201. It will be seen that the marks E, C, B, are practically the
same distance apart as before and they are also the same distance from
the peg AA. The point of the root is no longer at DD, however, but has
moved on to F. The root, therefore, has grown almost wholly in the end
part.
[39] NOTE.--Common ink will not answer for this purpose because it
"runs" when the root is wet; indelible ink, used for marking linen or
for drawing, should be used. It should also be said that the root of the
common pumpkin and of the summer bush squashes is too fibrous and
branchy for this test. It should be stated also that the root does not
grow at its very tip, but chiefly in a narrow zone just back of the tip;
but the determination of this point is rather too difficult for the
beginner, and, moreover, it is foreign to the purpose of this tract.
[Illustration: _Fig. 199. The true leaves developing._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 200. Marking the root._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 201. The root grows in the end parts._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 202. The marking of the stem, and the spreading
apart of the marks._]
Now let us make a similar experiment with the stem or stalk. We will
mark a young stem, as at A in Fig. 202; but the next day we shall find
that these marks are farther apart than when we made them (B, Fig. 202).
The marks have all raised themselves above the ground as the plant has
grown. The stem, therefore, has grown between the joints rather than
from the end. The stem usually grows most rapidly, at any given time, at
the upper or younger part of the joint (or internode); and the joint
soon reaches the limit of its growth and becomes stationary, while a new
one grows out above it.
[Illustration]
LEAFLET XXIX.
HOW THE TREES LOOK IN WINTER.[40]
BY L. H. BAILEY.
[40] Teacher's Leaflet No. 12, January, 1899.
[Sidenote: _To the teacher._--We want the country child to have a closer
touch with nature in the winter time. Teach him to see, to know, and to
care for the trees when they are leafless. This leaflet will suggest how
you may interest him.
You can also intensify his interest in the subject, and at the same time
increase his knowledge of drawing, by having him make skeleton or
outline drawings of the trees about the schoolhouse or the home. Leaflet
XXX gives suggestions for drawing.