DAY AND NIGHT ALLIES OF THE FARMER
Turkey Vulture
Red-shouldered Hawk
Red-tailed Hawk
Cooper's Hawk
Bald Eagle
American Sparrow Hawk
American Osprey
American Barn Owl
Short-eared Owl
Long-eared Owl
Barred Owl
Screech Owl
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{213}
TURKEY VULTURE
_Called also: Turkey Buzzard_
Every child south of Mason and Dixon's line knows this big buzzard
that sails serenely with its companions in great circles, floating
high overhead, now rising, now falling, with scarcely a movement of
its wide-spread wings. In the air, it expresses the very poetry of
motion. No other bird is more graceful and buoyant. One could spend
hours watching its fascinating flight. But surely its earthly habits
express the very prose of existence; for it may be seen in the company
of other dusky scavengers, walking about in the roads of the smaller
towns and villages, picking up refuse; or, in the fields, feeding on
some dead animal. Relying upon its good offices, the careless farmer
lets his dead pig or horse or chicken lie where it dropped, knowing
that buzzards will speedily settle on it and pick its bones clean. Our
soldiers in the war with Spain say that the final touch of horror on
the Cuban battlefields was when the buzzards, that were wheeling
overhead, suddenly dropped where their wounded or dead comrades fell.
{214}
Because it is so helpful in ridding the earth of decaying matter, the
law and the Southern people, white and coloured, protect the vulture.
Its usefulness is more easily seen and understood than that of many
smaller birds of greater value which, alas! are a target for every
gunner. Consequently, it is perhaps the commonest bird in the South,
and tame enough for the merest tyro in bird lore to learn that it is
about two and a half feet long, with a wing spread of fully six feet;
that its head and neck are bare and red like a turkey's, and that its
body is covered with dusky feathers edged with brown--an ungainly,
unlovely creature out of its element, the air. Another sable
scavenger, the black vulture or carrion crow, of similar habits, but
with a more southerly range, is common in the Gulf States.
Because it feeds on carrion that not even a goat grudges it, and is
too lazy and cowardly to pick a quarrel, the buzzard has no enemies.
Although classed among birds of prey, it does not frighten the
smallest chick in the poultry yard when it flops down beside it. With
beak and claws capable of gashing painful wounds, it never uses them
for defence, but resorts to the disgusting trick of throwing up the
contents of its stomach over any creature that comes too near. When a
colony of the ever-sociable buzzards are nesting, you may be very sure
{215} no one cares to make a close study of their young.
RED-SHOULDERED HAWK
_Called also: Hen Hawk; Chicken Hawk; Winter Hawk_
Let any one say "Hawk" to the average farmer and he looks for his gun.
For many years it was supposed that every member of the hawk family
was a villain and fair game, but the white searchlight of science
shows us that most of the tribe are the farmers' allies, which, with
the owls, share the task of keeping in check the mice, moles, gophers,
snakes, and the larger insect pests. Nature keeps her vast domain
patrolled by these vigilant watchers by day and by night. Guns may
well be turned on those blood-thirsty fiends in feathers. Cooper's
hawk, the sharp-shinned hawk, and the goshawk, that not only eat our
poultry, but every song bird they can catch: the law of the survival
of the fittest might well be enforced with lead in their case. But do
let us protect our friends, the more heavily built and slow-flying
hawks with the red tails and red shoulders, among other allies in our
ceaseless war against farm vermin!
In the court of last appeal to which all our {216} hawks are
brought--I mean those scientific men in the Department of Agriculture,
Washington, who examine the contents of birds' stomachs to learn just
what food is taken in different parts of the country and at different
seasons of the year--the two so-called "hen hawks" were proved to be
rare offenders, and great helpers. Two hundred and twenty stomachs of
red-shouldered hawks were examined by Dr. Fisher, and only three
contained remains of poultry, while one hundred and two contained
mice; ninety-two, insects; forty, moles and other small mammals;
fifty-nine, frogs and snakes, and so on. The percentage of poultry
eaten is so small that it might be reduced to nothing if the farmers
would keep their chickens in yards instead of letting them roam to
pick up a living in the fields, where the temptation to snatch up one
must be overwhelming to a hungry hawk. Fortunately these two
beneficent "hen hawks," are still common, in spite of our ignorant
persecution of them for two hundred years or more.
Toward the end of summer, especially in September, when nursery duties
have ended for the year and the hawks are care free, you may see them
sailing in wide spirals, delighting in the cooler stratum of air high
overhead. Balancing on wide, outstretched wings, floating serenely
with no apparent effort, they enjoy {217} the slow merry-go-round at a
height that would make any child dizzy. Sometimes they rise out of
sight. _Kee you, kee you_, they scream as they sail. Does the teasing
blue jay imitate the call for the fun of frightening little birds?
But the red-shouldered hawk is not on pleasure bent much of the time.
Perching is its specialty, and on an outstretched limb, or other point
of vantage, it sits erect and dignified, its far-seeing eyes alone in
motion trying to sight its quarry--a mouse creeping through the
meadow, a mole leaving its tunnel, a chipmunk running along a stone
wall, a frog leaping into the swamp, a gopher or young rabbit frisking
around the edges of the wood--when, spying one, "like a thunderbolt it
falls."
If you could ever creep close enough to a red-shouldered hawk, which
is not likely, you would see that it is a powerful bird, about a foot
and a half long, dark brown above, the feathers edged with rusty, with
bright chestnut patches on the shoulders. The wings and dark tail are
barred with white, so are the rusty-buff under parts, and the light
throat has dark streaks. Female hawks are larger than the males, just
as the squaws in some Indian tribes are larger than the braves. It is
said that hawks remain mated for life; so do eagles and owls, for in
their family life, at least, the birds of prey are remarkably devoted,
gentle and loving.
{218}
RED-TAILED HAWK
_Called also: Hen Hawk; Chicken Hawk; Red Hawk_
This larger relative of the red-shouldered hawk (the female red-tail
measures nearly two feet in length) shares with it the hatred of all
but the most enlightened farmers. Before condemning either of these
useful allies, everyone should read the report of Dr. Fisher,
published by the Government, and to be had for the asking. This expert
judge tells of a pair of red-tailed hawks that reared their young for
two successive seasons in a birch tree in some swampy woods, about
fifty rods from a poultry farm, where they might have helped
themselves to eight hundred chickens and half as many ducks; yet they
were never known to touch one. Occasionally, in winter especially,
when other food is scarce, a red-tail will steal a chicken--probably
a maimed or sickly one that cannot get out of the way--or drop on a
bob-white; but ninety per cent, of its food consists of injurious
mammals and insects.
Both of these slandered "hen hawks" prefer to live in low, wet, wooded
places with open meadows for hunting grounds near by.
{219}
COOPER'S HAWK
_Called also: Chicken Hawk; Big Blue Darter_
Here is no ally of the farmer, but his foe, the most bold of all his
robbers, a blood-thirsty villain that lives by plundering poultry
yards, and tearing the warm flesh from the breasts of game and song
birds, one of the few members of his generally useful tribe that
deserves the punishment ignorantly meted out to his innocent
relatives. Unhappily, it is perhaps the most common hawk in the
greater part of the United States, and therefore does more harm than
all the others. It is mentioned in this chapter that concerns the
farmers' allies, only because every child should know foe from friend.
The female Cooper's hawk is about nineteen inches long and her mate a
finger-length smaller, but not nearly so small as the little blue
darter, the sharp-shinned hawk, only about a foot in length, but which
it very closely resembles in plumage and villainy. Both species have
slaty-gray upper parts with deep bars across their wings and ashy-gray
tails. The latter differ in outline, however. Cooper's hawk having a
rounded tail with whitish tip, and the sharp-shinned hawk a square
tail. In maturity Cooper's hawk wears a blackish crown. Both species
have white throats with dark streaks {220} and the rest of their under
parts are much barred with buff and white.
Instead of spending their time perching on lookouts, as the red-tailed
and red-shouldered hawks do, these two reprobates dash after their
victims on the wing, chasing them across open stretches where such
swift, dexterous, dodging flyers are sure to overtake them. Or they
will flash out of a clear sky like feathered lightning and boldly
strike a chicken, though it be pecking corn near a farmer's feet.
These two marauders, and the big slate-coloured goshawk, also called
the blue hen hawk or partridge hawk, stab their cruel talons though
the vitals of more valuable poultry, song and game birds, than any
child would care to read about.
BALD EAGLE
Every American boy and girl knows our national bird, which is the
farmer's ally, however, only when it appears on the money in his
pocket. Without an eagle on that, you must know it would be of little
use to him.
Truth to tell, this majestic emblem of our republic (borrowed from
imperial Rome) that spreads itself gloriously over our coins, flag
poles, public buildings and government documents, is, in real life,
not the bravest of the brave, nor the most intelligent, nor the
noblest, {221} nor the most enterprising of birds, as one fain would
believe. On the contrary, it often uses its wonderful eyesight to
detect a bird more skilful than itself in the act of catching a fish,
and then puts forth its superb strength to rob the successful fisher
of his prey. The osprey is a frequent sufferer, although some of the
water fowl, that patiently course over the waves hour after hour, in
search of a dinner, may be robbed of it by the overpowering pirate.
Dead fish cast up on the beach are not rejected. When fish fail,
coots, ducks, geese and gulls--the fastest of flyers--are likely to
be snatched up, plucked clean of their feathers, and torn apart by the
great bird that drops suddenly upon them from the clouds like Jove's
thunderbolt. Rarely small animals are seized, but there is probably no
well-authenticated case of an eagle carrying off a child.
It is in their family life that hawks and eagles, however cruel at
other times, show some truly lovable traits. Once mated, they know
neither divorce nor family quarrels all their lives. Home is the
dearest spot on earth to them. They become passionately attached to
the great bundle of trash that is at once their nest and their abode.
A tall pine tree, near water, or the rocky ledge of some steep cliff,
is the favourite site for an eagle eyrie. Here the devoted mates will
carry an immense quantity of {222} sticks, sod, cornstalks, pine
twigs, weeds, bones, and other coarse rubbish, until, after annual
repairs for several seasons, the broad, flat nest may grow to be
almost as high as it is wide and look something like a New York
sky-scraper. Both parents sit on the eggs in turn and devote
themselves with zeal to feeding the eaglets. These spoiled children
remain in the nest several months without attempting to fly, expecting
to be waited upon even after they are actually larger than the old
birds. The castings of skins, bones, hair, scales, etc., in the
vicinity of a hawk's or eagle's nest, will indicate, almost as well as
Dr. Fisher's analysis, what food the babies had in their stomachs to
make them grow so big. Immature birds are almost black all over. Not
until they are three years old do the feathers on their heads and
necks turn white, giving them the effect of being bald. Any eagle seen
in the eastern United States is sure to be of this species.
In the West and throughout Asia and Africa lives the golden eagle, of
which Tennyson wrote the lines that apply equally well to our Eastern
"bird of freedom":
"He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls:
He watches from his mountain walls.
And, like a thunderbolt, he falls."
{223}
AMERICAN SPARROW HAWK
_Called also: Killy Hawk; Rusty-crowned Falcon;
Mouse Hawk._
Just such an extended branch as a shrike or a kingbird would use as a
lookout while searching the landscape o'er for something to eat, the
little sparrow hawk chooses for the same purpose. He is not much
larger than either of these birds, scarcely longer than a robin.
Because he is a hawk, with the family possession of eyes that are both
telescope and microscope, he can detect a mouse, sparrow, garter
snake, spider or grasshopper, farther away than seems to us possible.
Every farmer's boy knows this beautiful little rusty-red hawk, with
slaty-blue cap and wings, and creamy-buff spotted sides, if not by
sight then by sound, as it calls _kill-ee, kill-ee kill-ee_, across
the fields. It does not soar and revolve in a merry-go-round on high
like its cousins, but flies swiftly and gracefully, keeping near
enough to the ground to see everything that creeps or hops through the
grass. Dropping suddenly, like a stone, upon its victim (usually a
grasshopper) it seizes it in its small, sharp, fatal talons and bears
it away to a favourite perch, there to enjoy it at leisure.
{224}
This is the hawk that is so glad to find a deserted woodpecker's hole
for its nest. How many other birds gratefully accept those skilful
carpenters' vacant tenements!
AMERICAN OSPREY
_Called also: Fish Hawk_
A pair of these beautiful big hawks, that had nested year after year
in the top of a tall pine tree on the Manasquan River, New Jersey,
were great pets in that region. An old fisherman of Barnegat Bay told
me that when he was hauling in his seine one day, he saw the male
osprey strike the water with a splash, struggle an instant with a
great fish that had been following his net, and disappear below the
waves, never to rise again. The bird more than met his match that
time. The fish was far larger than he expected, so powerful that it
easily dragged him under, once his talons were imbedded in the fish's
flesh. For the rest of the summer the widowed osprey always stayed
about when the fisherman hauled his net on the beach, and bore away to
her nest the worthless fish he left in it for her special benefit. But
after rearing her family--a prolonged process for all the hawks,
eagles, and owls--she never returned to the {225} neighbourhood.
Perhaps old associations were too painful; perhaps she was shot on her
way South that winter; or perhaps she took another mate with more
sense and less greed, who preferred to reside elsewhere.
As you may imagine, fish hawks always live near water. In summer they
frequent the inlets along the Atlantic coast, but over inland lakes
and rivers also, many fly back and forth. You may know by their larger
size--they are almost two feet long--and by their slow flight that
they are not the winter gulls. Their dusky backs and white under parts
harmonise well with the marine picture, North or South. Their plumage
contains more white than that of any other hawk. No matter how foggy
the day or how quietly the diving osprey may splash to catch his fish
dinner, any bald-headed eagle in the vicinity is sure to detect him in
the act of seizing it, and then to relieve him of it instantly.
OWLS
Like many children I know, owls begin to be especially lively toward
night, only they make no noise as they fly about. Very soft, fluffy
plumage muffles their flight so that they can drop upon a meadow mouse
creeping through the grass in the stilly night before this wee, {226}
timorous beastie suspects there is a foe abroad. As owls live upon
mice, mostly, it is important they should be helped to catch them with
some device that beats our traps. If mice should change their
nocturnal habits, the owl's whole scheme of existence would be upset,
and the hawks would get the quarry that they now enjoy: mice, rats,
moles, bats, frogs and the larger insects. You see the farmer has
invaluable day and night allies in these birds of prey which take
turns in protecting his fields from rodents, one patrol working while
the other sleeps. On the whole, owls are the more valuable to him.
They usually continue their good work all through the winter after the
hawks have gone South. Can you think of any other birds that work for
him at night?
Not only can owls fluff out their loose, mottled plumage, but they can
draw it in so close as to change their shape and size in an instant,
so that they look like quite different birds, or rather not like birds
at all, but stumps of trees. Altering their outlines, changing their
shape and size at will, is one of these queer birds' peculiarities.
Their eyes, set in the centre of feathered discs, do not revolve in
their sockets, but are so fixed that they look only straight ahead,
which is why an owl must turn his head every time he wishes to glance
to the right or left.
[Illustration]
_Turkey buzzard: one of Nature's house cleaners_
[Illustration]
_The beautiful little sparrow hawk_
{227}
Another peculiarity is the owls' method of eating. Bolting entire all
the food they catch, head first, they digest only the nutritious
portions of it. Then, bowing their heads and shaking them very hard,
they eject the bones, claws, skin, hair and fur in matted pellets,
without the least distress. Some children I know, who swallow their
food in a hurry--cherry stones, grape skins, apple cores and all--need
a similar, merciful digestive apparatus.
Like the hawks, owls are devoted, life-long mates. The females are
larger than the males. Some like to live in dense evergreens that hide
them from teasing blue jays and other foes by day; some, like the barn
owl, prefer towers, church steeples or the tops of barns and other
buildings; some hide in hollow trees or deserted woodpeckers' holes,
but all naturally prefer to take their long, daily naps where the
sunlight does not penetrate. They live in their homes more hours than
woodpeckers or any other birds. No doubt we pass by many sleeping owls
without suspecting their presence.
BARN OWL
_Called also: Monkey-faced Owl_
This is the shy, odd-looking, gray and white mottled owl with the
triangular face and slim {228} body, about a foot and a half long,
that comes out of its hole at evening with a wild scream, startling
timid and superstitious people into the belief that it is uncanny. The
American counterpart of "wise Minerva's only fowl," its large
eye-discs and solemn blink certainly make it look like a fit companion
for the goddess of wisdom.
A tame barn owl, owned by a gentleman in Philadelphia, would sit on
his shoulder for hours at a time. It felt offended if its master would
not play with it. The only way the man could gain time for himself
during the bird's waking hours, was to feed it well and leave a
stuffed bird for it to play with when he went out of the room, just as
Jimmy Brown left a doll with his baby sister when he went out to play;
only the man could not tack the owl's petticoats to the floor.
A pair of barn owls lived for many years in the tower of the
Smithsonian Institution, Washington. Dr. Fisher found the skulls of
four hundred and fifty-four small mammals in the pellets cast about
their home. Another pair lived in a tower and on the best of terms
with some tame pigeons. Happily the owls had no taste for squab, but
the debris of several thousand mice and rats about their curious
dwelling proved that their appetite needed no coaxing with such a
delicacy.
{229}
SHORT-EARED OWL
_Called also: Marsh Owl; Meadow Owl_
This owl, and its long-eared cousin, wear the tufts of feathers in
their ears that resemble harmless horns. Unlike its relatives, the
short-eared owl does some hunting by daylight, especially in cloudy
weather, and like the marsh hawk it prefers to live in grassy, marshy
places frequented by meadow mice. On the other hand, the long-eared
owl respects family traditions, and goes about only after dark. "It
usually spends the day in some evergreen woods, thick willow copse or
alder swamp, although rarely it may be found in open places," says Dr.
Fisher. "The bird is not wild and will allow itself to be closely
approached. When conscious that its presence is recognised, it sits
upright, draws the feathers close to its body, and erects the
ear-tufts, resembling in appearance a piece of weather-beaten bark
more than a bird." The long and the short of it is, that few people,
except professional bird students, know very much about these or any
other owls, for few find them by day or forsake their couches when
they are abroad. We may take Dr. Johnson's advice and "give our days
and nights to the study of Addison," but few of us give even a part of
our days and less of our nights to the study of the birds about us.
{230}
BARRED OWL
_Called also: Hoot Owl_
If "a good child should be seen and not heard" what can be said for
this owl? Its deep-toned _whoo-whoo-who-whoo-to-whoo-ah_, like the
wail of some lost soul asking the way, is the only indication you are
likely to have that a hoot owl lives in your neighbourhood. You can
imitate its voice and deliberately "hoot it up." Few people who know
its voice will ever see its smooth, round, bland, almost human face.
"As useless as a last year's nest" can have no meaning to a pair of
these large hardy owls that go about toward the end of winter looking
for a deserted woodpecker's nest or a hawk's, crow's, or squirrel's
bulky cradle in some tree top. Ever after they hold it as their own.
Farmers shoot the owl that occasionally takes one of their broilers or
a game bird, not knowing that the remainder of its diet really leaves
them in its debt.
SCREECH OWLS
A boy I know had a pair of little screech owls invite themselves to
live in a box he had nailed {231} up for bluebirds in his father's
orchard. Although they had full liberty, in time they became tame
pets, even pampered darlings, with a willing slave to trap mice for
them in the corn crib and hay loft. At first mice were plentiful
enough, and every day after school the boy would empty the traps,
climb the apple tree and feed the owls. But presently the mice learned
the danger that may lurk behind an innocent looking lump of cheese.
One foolish, hungry mouse now and then was all the boy could catch.
This he would carry by the tail to his sleeping pets, arouse them by
dangling it against their heads, at which, while half asleep, they
would click their beaks like castanets. When both were wide awake he
would allow one of them to bolt the mouse while he still held on
firmly to the tail. Then, jerking the mouse back out of the owl's
throat, he would allow the other owl to really swallow it. When next
he caught a mouse, the operation was reversed: the owl that had been
satisfied before now gulped the mouse first, only to have it jerked
away and fed to its mate. In this way, strange to say, the boy kept on
friendly terms with the pair for several weeks, when he discovered
that they liked bits of raw beef quite as well as mice. After that he
carried his queer pets to the house and kept them in his room all
winter. Early in the spring they {232} returned to the bird house and
raised a family of funny, fluffy, plump little owlets.
This boy discovered for himself the screech owls' strange
characteristic of changing their colour without changing their
feathers, as moulting song birds change theirs. They have a rusty,
reddish-brown phase and a mottled-gray phase. So far as is known,
these changes of colour are not dependent upon age, sex, or season. No
one understands what causes them or what they mean. Sometimes the same
family will contain birds with plumage that is rusty-brown or gray or
intermediate. But you may always know a screech owl by its small size
(it is only about as long as a robin) and by the ear tufts that make
it look wide-awake and very wise.
By day it keeps well hidden in some deserted woodpecker's hole or a
hollow in some old orchard tree, which is its favourite residence; but
some mischievous little birds, with sharper eyes than ours, often
discover its hiding place, wake it up, and chase it, blinking and
bewildered, all about the farm. By night, when its tormentors are
asleep, this little owl goes forth for its supper, and then we hear
its weird, sweet, shivering, tremulous cry. Because it lives near our
homes and is, perhaps, the commonest of the owls all over our country,
every child can know it by sound, if not by sight.
[Illustration]
Father and mother barn owls
[Illustration]
The heavenly twins: young barn owls
{233}