Part 29

“‘The way of an eagle in the air! This is too wonderful for me!’ is an expression of this feeling of mystery, recorded in the book of Proverbs. One thing seems quite certain, however—if man ever succeeds in conquering the air and sailing through it, it will not be by the power of any invention of his own, but because he has at least in some degree mastered the knowledge of the flight of the bird and adapted it to his own use.

“The Chimney Swift, that you all know as the Chimney Swallow, is one of the most abundant and best-known birds of the eastern part of the United States. With troops of fledglings, catching their winged prey as they go, and lodging by night in some tall chimney, the flocks drift slowly south, joining with other bands until, on the northern coast of the Gulf of Mexico, they become an innumerable host. Then they disappear. Did they drop into the water and hibernate in the mud, as was believed of old, their obliteration could not be more complete. In the last week in March a joyful twittering far overhead announces their return to the Gulf coast, but the intervening five months is still the Swifts’ secret.

“The mouse-coloured Bank Swallows, that we saw here in flocks a few weeks ago, are almost cosmopolitan, and enliven even the shores of the Arctic Ocean with their graceful aerial evolutions. Those that nest in Labrador allow a scant two months for building a nest and raising a brood, and by the first of August are headed southward. Six weeks later they are swarming in the vicinity of Chesapeake Bay, and then they, too, pass out of the range of our knowledge. In April they appear in northern South America, moving north, but not a hint do they give of how they came there. The rest of the species, those that nest to the south or west, may be traced farther south, but they, too, fail to give any clew as to where they spend the five winter months.

“Which one of the Wise Men can tell us? No one. Look out the window now; there are two Night Hawks, first flying high and then dropping suddenly through the air. Is it not hard to realize that, while you are going to and fro every day between your homes and school, and by and by having to dig paths through the snow in order to get there, those two slender birds will have flown 5000 miles to find a new summer, and will be having a vacation absolutely free from family cares?”

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Condensed and adapted from Some New Facts about the Migration of Birds, by Wells W. Cooke, United States Biological Survey.

XII SOME SUSPICIOUS CHARACTERS

Owls and Hawks

Frost had come. Real frost, with black, nipping fingers. White frost, at its first appearance, is a decorator who casts a silver spell upon the meadows, turning them into shimmering lakes and touching the ripe leaves until each one becomes a banner of scarlet, gold, or russet.

Chrysanthemums and tufts of self-sown pansies, huddling in warm nooks, were the only flowers left about the farm-houses or in Gray Lady’s garden, and both of these would hold their own until Thanksgiving Day gave praise for the year’s growth and bade growing things sleep the long sleep of winter.

Birdland showed the change less than either the hickory or the river woods, for the old orchard held its leaves as apple trees usually do, and the belt of spruces and pines, that ran from the north side of it quite up to the house, made a cheerful green barrier and wind-break as well; but the Swallows and Night Hawks were no longer skimming the air, and high above, a pair of Red-shouldered Hawks were sailing majestically, occasionally giving their cry Kee-o—Kee-o!

Jacob had finished the Martin house the week previous, and a stout smooth pole like a flagstaff had been planted, not in Birdland itself but on a slight rise in the ground that overlooked both the barns and the orchard. The setting up of the house itself had been reserved for this special Saturday, so that the children might take part in the ceremony.

The top of the pole, on which there were fastened crosspieces to make a foundation for the house, was thirty feet above the ground. In this pole stout spikes were driven at intervals. This not only would prevent cats from climbing up to the house, but made a sort of ladder by which a man or boy could go up and pull out the nesting material of English sparrows if they tried to take possession. For, if we are to keep the useful insect-eating birds about our houses, we must try our best to keep this Sparrow from living amongst us.

Hard as it seems, he must be classed with animals that the kindest heart knows must be destroyed. But no one wishes to hurt nestlings, so the best way to do is to prevent the old birds from building in the haunts of the useful song-birds, and then in winter, when the old Sparrows gather in flocks about the barnyard, have some grown man, with good judgment and aim, shoot them. Children should never be let do this for amusement, for it is not well to allow a painful necessity to become a sport.

Tommy Todd was quite late on this Saturday morning, so that it was thought that he was not coming, and when he did arrive he found the others gathered about the pole,—Dave, who had a steady head for climbing, having been allowed to go up with Jacob, after the house had been raised with a block and falls, to hold hammer and nails while it was securely fastened to the braces.

They were all so busy that it was not until Jacob and Dave had come down, that Gray Lady noticed the box that Tommy had brought and which stood beside him, the slats on top telling that it contained some live thing.

As she turned to ask Tommy what he had brought, Goldilocks came down the path in her chair, for though she could walk quite well by this time, she was obliged to be very careful, and Ann would not allow her to be on her feet for more than an hour or two each day.

“The little Owls are back again and all sitting in a row on a branch of the old russet beyond the lunch-counter. There is a hollow in the trunk of the tree that I never noticed before, and do you know, mother, I shouldn’t be surprised if the nest had been in there, so, perhaps, if we have something that they like on the lunch-counter, they’ll come back next year.”

“Come back? Aren’t you going to shoot them before they get away?” asked Dave. “Because they might not come back.”

“We don’t want them to come back to be shot, but to make more nests and live here,” said Goldilocks.

“Live! why, folks always shoot Owls and Hawks! They are very bad things, though I guess Hawks are the worst; anyhow, there’s more of ’em. Just look at those big Hen-hawks flying up yonder now; maybe you’d like them to come and live in the orchard. If they did, they’d eat the lunch off’n your counter, other birds and all.”

Gray Lady, seeing by the expression of Dave’s face that he could not quite understand any other view of the matter, said: “Yes, Dave, you are right; people usually shoot Hawks and Owls on sight—and have been doing so for years. In fact, my own husband used to shoot them as a matter of course, and he was one who never killed a song-bird and who greatly preferred to hear the Grouse drumming in the forest, the Woodcock singing and dancing in the spring woods (yes, they both dance and sing and I will tell you of them some day), and Bob-white telling his name from the fence-rail, than to have them come on the table ever so deliciously cooked.

“But within the last ten or fifteen years the Wise Men have found out a great deal more about these Owls and Hawks—or Birds of Prey, as they are called, and they know exactly what the work of these birds is in the great plan of nature. Many of the facts they tell us of we can see for ourselves if we have the patience to watch. Before the country was settled by white men, and became what we call ‘civilized,’ all of these birds of prey had their place, but even now many of them are not only not hurtful to us, but of distinct benefit. The difficulty is that we do not stop to sift the facts and separate the good from the bad. To the farmer, and particularly the poultry-raiser, the cry of Hawk brings him out, quick as a flash, shot-gun in hand.

“But if he will only realize that for every chicken or pigeon one of these Hawks destroys, it in all probability takes fifty rats, field-mice, short-tailed meadow-mice, weasels, and red squirrels, he will see that he owes the Hawk a debt of gratitude; for it is easier by far to protect a poultry-yard from conspicuous things that fly above—like Hawks and Owls—than to keep out the things that crawl and creep.

“Now, before we go down to the orchard to see Goldilocks’ little Screech Owls, let us see what Tommy Todd has in this box.”

“It’s only a Screech Owl that I found up in the pigeon-coop this morning, but it’s such a different colour from the gray ones we have here, that I brought it up for you to see if it was a rare kind. I daren’t take it out because it claws and bites so.” And Tommy took away the cloth that partly covered the box, and there sat the bird with open, yellow-rimmed eyes, with which he seemed to see with difficulty.

The Owl was no taller than a Robin, but his large, round head and thickset body made him appear to be a much larger bird. He had two ear tufts (or horns) of feathers, a strong, curved beak, and powerful toes, lightly feathered, ending in the hooked talons that mark the birds of prey, that is, birds that prey, or feed, upon forms of animal life other than defenceless insects, worms, etc. Its feathers were a bright rusty red colour, streaked with black; its underparts being more or less white, mixed with red and black.

“The Owls in the orchard are like this one, only they are all gray and black,” said Goldilocks, after taking a long look.