Birds and all Nature, Vol. V, No. 5, May 1899

"The brown, brown woods of March
Are the green, green woods of May,
And they lift their arms with a freer swing
And shake out their pennons gay.
And the brown, dead world of March
Is the living world of to-day;
Life throbs and flushes and flashes out
In the color and fragrance of May."

BONAPARTE'S GULL

(Larus Philadelphia.)

LYNDS JONES

THE whole of North America is the home of this pretty little gull – from the Bermudas to Labrador on the east, California to the Yukon on the west, and from the Gulf of Mexico at least to the Arctic circle. This species is often common near streams and other bodies of water large enough to furnish their food of fish. I have often seen flocks of twenty or more birds passing over central Iowa during the vernal migrations, sometimes even stooping to snatch some toothsome grub from the freshly turned furrow, but oftener sweeping past within easy range in that lithe, graceful flight so characteristic of this small gull. To the farm boy, shut in away from any body of water larger than an ice pond, where no ocean birds could ever be expected to wander, the appearance of this bird, bearing the wild freedom of the ocean in his every movement, is truly a revelation. It sends the blood coursing hotly through his veins until the impulse to get away into the broader activities of life cannot be put down. I know not why it is, but some birds, seen for the first time, seem to waft the perfume of an unknown country to us, well-nigh irresistibly calling us away upon a new field of exploration or endeavor.

The flight of Bonaparte's gull is worthy of careful study. In common with the other members of the group of gulls, he progresses easily by continuous leisurely wing beats, each stroke of the wings seeming to throw the light body slightly upward as though it were not more than a feather's weight. In the leisurely flight the watchful eye is turned hither and thither in quest of some food morsel, which may be some luckless fish venturing too near the surface of the water, or possibly floating refuse. The flight is sometimes so suddenly arrested that the body of the bird seems to be thrown backward before the plunge is made, thus giving the impression of a graceful litheness which is not seen in the larger birds of this group.

It is only in the breeding-plumage that this species wears the slaty plumbeous hood. In the winter the hood is wanting, though it may be suggested by a few dark spots, but there is a dusky spot over the ears always. It seems doubtful if the birds attain the dark hood until the second or third year, at which time they may be said to be fully adult.

It was formerly supposed that this gull nested entirely north of the United States, but later investigations have shown that it nests regularly in northern Minnesota and even as far south as the Saint Clair Flats near Detroit, Mich. It may then be said to nest from the northern United States northward to the limit of its range. It is rare along the Alaskan coast of Bering Sea, and there seems to be no record of it along the coast of the Arctic Ocean.

The nest is always placed in elevated situations, in bushes, trees, or on high stumps, and is composed of sticks, grasses, and lined with softer vegetable material. The eggs are three or four in number and have the grayish-brown to greenish-brown color, spotted and blotched with browns, which is characteristic of the gulls as a group.

While the gulls are fish-eaters and almost constantly hover above the fishers' nets, often catching over again the fish which the nets have trapped, we never hear of any warfare waged against them by the fishermen. On the contrary, the gulls are always on the most friendly terms with them, gladly accepting the fish found unworthy of the market. But let a bird of whatever kind visit the orchard or chicken-yard, for whatever purpose, and his life is not worth a moment's consideration. We need again to sit at the feet of fishermen as earnest inquirers.

EGG COLLECTING

FRED MAY,

School Taxidermist

To the Editor of Birds and All Nature:

I AM glad the magazine of birds is furnishing its readers so many points about the good qualities of our birds. And as they are being protected more every year by the state laws and by the lovers of birds, I think they are sure to increase. I have often been asked about the decrease in bird life. The blame is generally put on the taxidermist, collector, sportsman, and schoolboy, which I claim is all wrong. The taxidermist collector of to-day is a lover of bird-life, and only hunts specimens to mount for a scientific purpose. This gives our school children a better chance to study them. The schoolboy and girl of to-day are doing great good in the protection of bird-life, and your book of birds has a warm friend among them. The true sportsman always lives up to the laws and takes a fair chance with dog and gun. The plume and bird collector will soon be a thing of the past, as hats trimmed with choice ribbons and jets are fast taking the place of those covered with feathers and birds. Now the persons who hide behind all these, and who destroy more bird-life in a single season than all the hunters and collectors of skins, are never brought to the eyes of the press. These are the people who have a fad for egg-collecting. They not only rob the nest of its one setting, but will take the eggs as long as the bird will continue to lay, and, not satisfied with that, will take the eggs from every bird as long as they can find them. They will even take the eggs after incubation has begun, and often-times, after a hard climb for the eggs, will destroy the nest. There are thousands upon thousands of settings of eggs of every kind taken every year by these fad egg collectors and you will see in some of our magazines on ornithology offers of from fifty to five hundred settings for sale. Now, what is an egg to this egg collector? Nothing. But to the lover of birds there is a great deal in that shell. There is a life; the song of the woods and of the home. In that shell is the true and faithful worker who has saved our farmers and our city homes and parks from the plagues of insects that would have destroyed crops and the beauty of our homes. Shall the law allow these nest-robbers to go on summer after summer taking hundreds of thousands of settings? If it shall I am afraid the increase in our bird-life will be slow. With the help of our game wardens and sporting-clubs a great deal of this could be stopped, and a great saving could be made in game birds' eggs. Our country school children can protect our song birds' nests by driving these collectors, with their climbing irons and collecting cans, from their farms in the breeding-season. Yes, it often looks sad to see a song bird drop at the report of the gun of the skin collector. But when we think of the bird-egg collector sneaking like a thief in the night up a tree or through a hedge, taking a setting of eggs on every side while the frightened mother sits high in the tree above, and then down and off in search of more, only to come back in a short time to take her eggs again – what is bird-life to him? What would he care to be sitting in the shade by the lake or stream listening to the song of the robin, or after a hard day's work in the hot summer, be seated on his porch to hear the evening song of the warbler and the distant call of the whippoorwill? Let the lovers of bird-life commence with the spring song, with the building of the nest, and save each little life they can from the egg collector. Will this man, if he may be called a man, look into his long drawers filled with eggs, and his extra settings for sale and trade? Let him think of the life he has taken, the homes he has made unhappy. I should think he would go like Macbeth from his sleep to wash the blood from his hands.

THE BABOON

NATURALISTS seem to be agreed that the baboons (cynocephalus), while one of the most remarkable groups of the monkey family, are the ugliest, rudest, coarsest, and most repulsive representatives of it. The animal stands in the lowest degree of development of the monkey tribe, and possesses none of the nobler shapes and qualities of mind of other species. Aristotle called the baboons dog-headed monkeys, on account of the shape of their heads, which have a resemblance to that of a rude, fierce dog.

The baboons are found throughout Africa, Arabia, and India. In the main they are mountain monkeys, but also live in forests and are excellent tree-climbers. In the mountains they go as high as nine thousand to thirteen thousand feet above the sea-level, but give preference to countries having an elevation of three thousand or four thousand feet. Old travelers assert that mountainous regions are their true home.

The food of the baboons consists chiefly of onions, tubers, grass, fruit, eggs, and insects of all kinds, but, as they have also a greedy appetite for animal food, they steal chickens and kill small antelopes. In plantations, and especially vineyards, they cause the greatest damage, and are even said to make their raids in an orderly, deliberate, and nearly military manner.

Brehm, who observed them closely, says that they resemble awkward dogs in their gait, and even when they do stand erect they like to lean on one hand. When not hurried their walk is slow and lumbering; as soon as they are pursued, they fall into a singular sort of gallop, which includes the most peculiar movements of the body.

The moral traits of the baboons are quite in accord with their external appearance. Scheitlin describes them as all more or less bad fellows, "always savage, fierce, impudent, and malicious; the muzzle is a coarse imitation of a dog's, the face a distortion of a dog's face. The look is cunning, the mind wicked. They are more open to instruction than the smaller monkeys and have more common sense. Their imitative nature seems such that they barely escape being human. They easily perceive traps and dangers, and defend themselves with courage and bravery. As bad as they may be, they still are capable of being tamed in youth, but when they become old their gentle nature disappears, and they become disobedient; they grin, scratch, and bite. Education does not go deep enough with them. It is said that in the wild state they are more clever; while in captivity they are gentler. Their family name is 'dog-headed monkeys.' If they only had the dog's soul along with his head!" Another traveler says that they have a few excellent qualities; they are very fond of each other and their children; they also become attached to their keeper and make themselves useful to him. "But these good qualities are in no way sufficient to counterbalance their bad habits and passions. Cunning and malice are common traits of all baboons, and a blind rage is their chief characteristic. A single word, a mocking smile, even a cross look, will sometimes throw the baboon into a rage, in which he loses all self-control." Therefore the animal is always dangerous and never to be trifled with.

The baboons shun man. Their chief enemy is the leopard, though it oftener attacks the little ones, as the old fellows are formidable in self-defense. Scorpions they do not fear, as they break off their poisonous tails with great skill, and they are said to enjoy eating these animals as much as they do insects or spiders. They avoid poisonous snakes with great caution.

This animal is said to be remarkable for its ability in discovering water. In South Africa, when the water begins to run short, and the known fountains have failed, it is deprived of water for a whole day, until it is furious with thirst. A long rope is then tied to its collar, and it is suffered to run about where it chooses. First it runs forward a little, then stops, gets on its hind feet, and sniffs the air, especially noting the wind and its direction. It will then, perhaps, change its course, and after running for some distance take another observation. Presently it will spy out a blade of grass, pluck it up, turn it on all sides, smell it, and then go forward again. Thus the animal proceeds until it leads the party to water. In this respect at least, baboons have their uses, and on occasions have been the benefactors of man.

The baboons have, in common with the natives, a great fondness for a kind of liquor manufactured from the grain of the durra or dohen. They often become intoxicated and thus become easy of capture. They have been known to drink wine, but could not be induced to taste whisky. When they become completely drunk they make the most fearful faces, are boisterous and brutal, and present altogether a degrading caricature of some men.

As illustrating the characteristics of fear and curiosity in the baboon, we will quote the following from the personal experience of Dr. Brehm, the celebrated traveler. He had a great many pets, among others a tame lioness, who made the guenons rather nervous, but did not strike terror to the hearts of the courageous baboons. They used to flee at her approach, but when she really seemed to be about to attack one of them, they stood their ground fairly well. He often observed them as they acted in this way. His baboons turned to flee before the dogs, which he would set upon them, but if a dog chanced to grab a baboon, the latter would turn round and courageously rout the former. The monkey would bite, scratch, and slap the dog's face so energetically that the whipped brute would take to his heels with a howl. More ludicrous still seemed the terror of the baboons of everything creeping, and of frogs. The sight of an innocent lizard or a harmless little frog would bring them to despair, and they would climb as high as their ropes would permit, clinging to walls and posts in a regular fit of fright. At the same time their curiosity was such that they had to take a closer look at the objects of their alarm. Several times he brought them poisonous snakes in tin boxes. They knew perfectly well how dangerous the inmates of these boxes were, but could not resist the temptation of opening them, and then seemed fairly to revel in their own trepidation.

THE SUMMER POOL

Buchanan

There is a singing in the summer air,
The blue and brown moths flutter o'er the grass,
The stubble bird is creaking in the wheat,
And, perched upon the honeysuckle hedge,
Pipes the green linnet. Oh! the golden world —
The star of life on every blade of grass,
The motion and joy on every bough,
The glad feast everywhere, for things that love
The sunshine, and for things that love the shade.

THE FEATHER CRUSADE

E. K. M

JUST as the Audubon societies and the appeals of humanitarians in general have had some effect in lessening the demand for the aigrette for millinery purposes, and their banishment, as officially announced, from the helmets of the British army, there springs up a new fashion which, if generally adopted, will prove very discouraging – especially to the birds.

"She made a decided sensation last evening at the opera," says Miss Vanity's fond mamma. "Those blackbirds with outspread wings at either side of her head were simply fetching. They drew every lorgnette and every eye in the house upon her. Not a woman of fashion, or otherwise, I venture to say, will appear at a public function here-after without a pair of stuffed birds in her hair."

A melancholy outlook truly, though as an onlooker expressed it, the effect of the spreading wings was vastly more grotesque than beautiful. The poor little blackbirds! Their destruction goes on without abatement.

"I like the hat," said a gentle-looking little lady in a fashionable millinery establishment the other day, "but," removing it from her head, "those blackbirds must be removed and flowers put in their place."

"A member of the Audubon Society, probably," queried the attendant, respectfully.

"No," was the answer, "but for years the birds have been welcome visitors at our country place, great flocks of blackbirds, especially, making their homes in our trees. This year, and indeed the last, but few appeared, and we have in consequence no love for the hunters and little respect for the women who, for vanity's sake, make their slaughter one of commercial necessity and greed."

'Tis said fashion is proof against the appeals of common sense or morality, and one must accept the statement as true when, in spite of all that has been said upon the subject, the Paris journals announce that "birds are to be worn more than ever and blouses made entirely of feathers are coming into fashion." The use of bird skins in Paris for one week represent the destruction of one million three hundred thousand birds; in London the daily importation ranges from three hundred to four hundred thousand. It is honestly asserted that, in the height of the season, fifty thousand bird skins are received in New York City daily.

At the annual meeting of the Audubon Society of New York state a letter was read from Governor Roosevelt in which he said that he fully sympathized with the purpose of the society and that he could not understand how any man or woman could fail to exert all influence in support of its object.

"When I hear of the destruction of a species," he added, "I feel just as if all the works of some great writer had perished; as if one had lost all instead of only a part of Polybius or Livy."

Rev. Dr. Henry Van Dyke sent a letter in which he said the sight of an aigrette filled him with a feeling of indignation, and that the skin of a dead songbird stuck on the head of a tuneless woman made him hate the barbarism which lingers in our so-called civilization. Mr. Frank M. Chapman, at the same meeting, stated that the wide-spread use of the quills of the brown pelican for hat trimming was fast bringing about the extinction of that species.

In front of my pew sits a maiden —
A little brown wing in her hat,
With its touches of tropical azure,
And the sheen of the sun upon that.