Part 27

“Of course,” continued Gray Lady, “I know very little from my own sight, but I will tell you what I have learned of the Wise Men, who believe it to be the truth. I had intended telling you about Owls and Hawks to-day, as I promised you last week, when we saw the Screech Owl up in the orchard, but that story can wait until the next time you visit Birdland, for the Owls are still about; there are pictures of them in the library, and others that are stuffed and mounted in the glass case in the hall.

“All that we need, or that can help us with the story of the bird on its travels, is that large map of North and South America, for this will be a geography, as well as a bird, lesson.

(A fine map of the western hemisphere having been the first thing that Gray Lady had given Miss Wilde for the use of the school at Foxes Corners, the little old one being out of date and indistinct.)

“Clary, you may take charge of the pointer to-day and sit here by me, for this will be a rather long lesson, and you will need help with the binding of your iron-holder, for I’m afraid if you draw the stitches so very tight it will pucker and not lie flat and smooth like the model that Ann Hughes made.

“And what work has Jacob given you boys for your penknives to do?”

“Wooden spoons out of white wood,” answered Dave, “big strong ones such as’ll beat up cake and apple-sauce, and, when they’re shaped, we are to smooth them down fine with sandpaper. I’m going to give mine to my mother; she broke hers yesterday, the handle snapped right in two. She says the bought spoons are sawn out crossgrain, any which way. There was an old man who used to come down from the charcoal camp with wooden spoons and butter-scoops and hickory baskets, and he sold lots of ’em all through the town, but he died last winter.”

“Then surely wooden spoons and butter-scoops will be very good things for the Kind Hearts’ Club to make for its Christmas sale, and we shall be interfering with nobody, for that is one of the things that we must remember when we are working for charity, not to make articles for sale that shall interfere with others who make them to get an honest living, for that sort of thing is a species of robbery in disguise.

* * * * *

The Travels of Birds

“What becomes of the birds that are with us in summer? Where and how do they spend the winter? By what roadways do they travel to their winter haunts? Do they prefer to journey by land or by water, and how do they find the way?

“We need not think that we, or anybody else of our day, are the first to ask these questions, for it is many hundreds of years since they first began to puzzle thinking people. At first, lacking any real knowledge of the simplest facts of nature, and not having as yet trained the eye to correct seeing, the people did as the ignorant do to this day,—they imagined fabulous reasons. The more impossible and wonderful or unnatural, the better, for it takes a trained mind oftentimes to realize that the most natural way is the best, and that the simplest way is the most natural.

“It was in these far-back times that the foolish idea was started that the Swallows dived into the mud and there spent the winter, like the frogs.

“Another stranger idea was that small birds crossed large bodies of water as passengers on the backs of large birds, such as Cranes, Ducks, and Geese, for people did not know enough of the structure of birds to realize that the machinery of the tiny Humming-bird is as fit for flying long distances as that of the biggest birds that grow. Ideas like this have been believed until a comparatively short time ago, and it is only within the last fifty years that there has been much real progress toward the truth of it all. And this is the way it has been brought about. In our country the band of Wise Men at Washington, forming the United States Biological Survey, have for twenty years been gathering facts about the migration of birds. This body has sent out naturalists to travel through the North American continent from Guatemala to the Arctic Circle, to meet with other scientific men on their way, and keep careful notes of what they see, so that reports are had in the spring and fall each year from hundreds of observers.

“These reports give the date upon which each particular kind (or species, as they call it) of bird is seen, when it becomes plenty, and when it moves on again. The lighthouse keepers also give much information by noting the times at which they find the birds that are dashed to death against the lanterns in the tower. In short, the Wise Men have more material at hand than ever before from which to shape the story that day by day increases in wonder.

Causes of the Migrations

“It is more than two thousand years since the wonders of bird travel have been noted; and while the distances and routes of travel are better known, we cannot yet give a positive answer to the question, ‘Why do birds migrate?’”

“Please, Gray Lady,” said Sarah Barnes, “I thought you said it was because in fall the insect food begins to freeze and give out, and they go south after it and in spring they want to go back home.”

“Yes, Sarah, that is one of the reasons, and yet birds start off oftentimes when food is still plenty, and every naturalist knows of the rush of the water-fowl northward so early every spring that they are often turned back by storms and have to retrace their flight, and they have all seen that Robins, Bluebirds, and Swallows, following too closely in the wake of the water-fowl, sometimes lose hundreds out of their flocks by cold and starvation.

“If the fall journey is caused by lack of food, why does it begin when food is most plenty? At some of the Florida lighthouses the Wise Men have seen that the southward trip with some birds begins between the first and middle of July, at the time when the crop of insects and ripe seeds and berries is at its height. So the best answer that can be made is that ages ago, when the migrations began, they were connected with a food supply that changed more suddenly than at the present time, and that, even when the direct motive is lost, the habit remains fixed.”

“That’s it; that’s a bully reason!” cried Tommy Todd, excitedly. “They’ve got the notion that they’re going travelling just so often and they can’t calculate the time right and so they get ready too soon; likely they haven’t got very good heads for planning. That’s the reason, Pop says, that every fall, when Ma and Aunt Hannah go up to Kent to visit Grandma Tuck, they are all ready on the stoop by half-past seven, when there’s never been a train from here to there before ’leven. If they were birds, they’d probably fly off as soon as it was light, and get to Grandma’s for breakfast, when they’d written on a picture postal, with tea-cups and a cat on it, that she might expect them for supper.”

When the laugh at Tommy’s comparison had subsided, Gray Lady said, “Your idea is by no means a foolish one, and it may be that a boy like you, who watches and thinks, will some day piece the facts together that will finally settle the question.”

How do Birds find their Way?

“How do the birds find their way over the hundreds or thousands of miles between the winter and summer homes? Sight is probably the chief guide of those who fly by day, and it is known that these day travellers seldom make the long single flights that are so common with the birds that journey at night. Sight, undoubtedly, also guides them, to a large extent, in the night journeys, when the moon is bright. Migrating birds fly high, so that one can hardly hear their faint twittering. But if the sky is obscured and the clouds hang low, the flocks keep nearer to the earth, and their calls are more distinctly heard; while on very dark nights, the vibration of their wings can be heard close overhead.

“Notwithstanding this, something besides sight guides these travellers in the upper air. (Here is a route for you to trace on the map.) In Alaska, a few years ago, members of the Biological Survey on the Harriman expedition went by steamer from the island of Unalaska to Bogoslof Island, a distance of about sixty miles. A dense fog had shut out every object beyond a hundred yards. When the steamer was halfway across, flocks of Murres, returning to Bogoslof after long quests for food, began to break through the fog wall astern, fly side by side with the vessels, and disappear in the mists ahead. By chart and compass, the ship was heading straight for the island; but its course was no more exact than that taken by the birds. The power which carried them unerringly home over the ocean wastes, whatever its nature, may be called ‘a sense of direction.’ We recognize in ourselves the possession of some such sense, though imperfect and easily at fault. Doubtless a similar, but vastly more acute, sense enabled the Murres, flying from home and circling wide over the water, to keep in mind the direction of their nests and return to them without the aid of sight. It is probable that this faculty is exercised during migration.

“Reports from lighthouses in southern Florida show that birds leave Cuba on cloudy nights when they cannot possibly see the Florida shores, and safely reach their destination, provided no change occurs in the weather. But if meantime the wind changes or a storm arises to throw them out of their reckoning, they become bewildered, lose their way, and fly toward the lighthouse beacon. Unless killed by striking the lantern, they hover near or alight on the balcony, to continue their flight when morning breaks, or, the storm ceasing, a clear sky allows them once more to determine the proper course.

“Birds flying over the Gulf of Mexico to Louisiana, even if they ascended to the height of five miles, would still be unable to see a third of the way across. Nevertheless this trip is successfully made twice each year by countless thousands of the warblers of the Mississippi Valley.

“Probably there are many short zigzags from one favoured feeding-spot to another, but the general course between the summer and winter homes is as straight as the birds can find without missing the usual stopping-places.

Accidents during Migration