Birds and Nature, Vol. 12 No. 4 [September 1902]

Unlike some of the other lizards, the Horned Toads are not provided with a protrusive tongue. This fact, together with their clumsy form, prevents them from preying on the more lively insects. They chiefly feed upon the beetles and other slowly moving insects that inhabit the region in which they live. The food is captured in the evening, and if undisturbed the toads remain quite passive throughout the day. In captivity they are interesting pets and if they will take food they bear confinement for a long time. “They not infrequently, however, starve themselves to death, though their capacity to live without food is marvelous.”

DOWN IN DIXIE-LAND

One never has to travel very far from home to see something new and interesting; so I wonder if all of the readers know of the “frizzly chicken” which is so popular among the colored people of our southern states.

It is of ordinary size and like the rest of the chicken family, except that its feathers stand on end like the quills of an angry porcupine. It reminded me of a chicken perpetually blown before a March wind. Of course, their feathers become ragged and “frizzled,” like the hair of their proud possessors, and I imagine the motherly inclined do not find their sittings quite so comfortable as do our meek-looking hens.

As a rule, the negroes are very humane in their treatment of domestic animals. The dogs are treated as well as the children, and nearly every cabin door has a hole cut in it for the entrance and exit of the family cats. As the weather is seldom cold, these ventilators are really good for the larger inmates.

    Lee McCrae.

MY BAT

When I discovered the bat he was hanging by his hind feet, head downward between the blind and the window. I could not see him breathe and thought he must be dead, but he was only sleeping.

We closed the shutters of the blind as softly as we could, but it awoke him, and he began to wiggle and twist. He could not get away and we lowered the window from the top and grabbed the little fellow.

How he did scold and snap his jaws together! His little teeth were sharp and he tried his best to bite us.

We put him in a box and put a piece of coarse wire netting over the top.

Mr. Bat did not enjoy being made a prisoner, and did not quiet down until he found he could hang head downward from the netting.

He was quite a pretty little animal, his body being about two inches long, with soft, thick, reddish brown fur on its upper and under part and on his head. His eyes were small and dark, and his head looked like a tiny bear’s, but there was no hair on his ears.

His wings also were without hair and nearly black in color. When hanging by his hind legs he kept his wings folded tightly against his body.

The bat’s hind feet were very small, having five tiny toes with the smallest possible nails. By having one toe around the wire of the netting he could hold himself suspended in the air.

The little fellow’s mode of walking on the bottom of the box was very awkward. He would thrust forth the claw at the end of one of his wings and hook it into the box, then advance the hind foot and tumble forward, repeating the process with the opposite side, thus tumbling and staggering along, falling first to one side, then to the other.

If he wanted to hang from the netting he would reach up a hind foot and gain a foothold in the side of the box, then raise the other, thus climbing backwards until he could clasp the netting.

In the evening the bat got out of the box and was flying about the room before we knew he had escaped. He flew round and round in a circle, sometimes striking the walls of the room. His wings made considerable noise and he looked many times larger when flying.

We thought we should have to shut him up in the room until morning, but at last succeeded in catching him by hitting and knocking him to the floor with a coat, then throwing it over him.

The little fellow struggled and tried his best to get away, but it was no use. We put him back into the box and put a weight on the netting. He scratched around in the box and scolded all the evening, but he did not get away again.

The next morning I thought he would be hungry and tried to get him to eat and drink. He lapped a little water and a little milk out of a teaspoon, running out his tiny red tongue and making a little hacking noise.

He would not be tempted to eat a fly, shaking his head and spitting the flies out as fast as I could put them into his mouth.

As he would not eat we thought the little fellow would starve if I did not let him go. I waited until evening and took the box outdoors. He was hanging to the netting, and I took it off and turned it over so he could fly. He spread out his wings and away he went, glad to be at liberty once more.

I have looked every morning to see if the bat is hanging against the window, but have not seen him since I set him free.

    Martha R. Fitch.

THE ATLAS MOTH

(Attacus atlas.)

India is not only noted for its large and ferocious beasts, but also for its gorgeous flowers and beautiful insects. Among these is the splendid Atlas Moth, noted not alone for the extravagance of its coloring, but also for its immense size, for it is the giant of the moths and butterflies. The largest specimen recorded is now in the British Museum. Expanded and measured from tip to tip of the fore wings, it is only one-quarter of inch less than one foot. Measured in the same manner, the specimen of our illustration is a trifle over ten inches. The average expansion, however, is only about eight or nine inches. Its large size influenced Linnaeus to give this moth the specific designation of Atlas, the name of one of the Greek gods, by whom the pillars of heaven were supposed to be supported. In later years the word has been used in a figurative sense indicative of an ability to sustain a great burden. Truly no other name would be more appropriate, for the large wings of the Atlas Moth enable it to fly swiftly and to long distances, though its flight is somewhat erratic.

The larvae or caterpillars of this regal moth are fully as interesting and beautiful as the adult insect. They have a long, thick and fleshy body, which bears several rows of tubercles, crowned with spiny hairs. When young they are black with white spines, but afterwards become a rich green color and bear bluish-green or black spines. It is said that the larvae eat their skins after moulting and it has been suggested that the object of this habit is to prevent the cast off skins from indicating their presence to birds and other enemies.

The Atlas Moth varies considerably in the color of its wings and, when compared with the expanse of its wings, its body is very short. A peculiar and striking characteristic is the large and triangular transparent spot near the center of each of the four wings.

Among its allies are some of the most important of the silk producing moths of India, China and Japan, and the common emperor moth of England. Other species of the genus Attacus inhabit Central and South America, but they are much smaller and not as beautiful as the Atlas.

A BUTTERFLY

Lazily flying
Over the flower-decked prairies, West;
Basking in sunshine till daylight is dying,
And resting all night on Asclepias’ breast;
Joyously dancing,
Merrily prancing,
Chasing his lady-love high in the air,
Fluttering gaily,
Frolicking daily.
Free from anxiety, sorrow, and care!

    – C. V. Riley.

WHEN BILLIE CAME BACK

Billie is the handsomest Flicker that comes to the grove of oaks on the north campus of the college and that is saying a great deal. For several years he has occupied a splendid house hollowed out with much labor in the great oak by the power house. Just above the portico of his house Billie has his xylophone. This remarkable instrument is just seasoned enough and has just the correct spring in its splinters. Here every morning, at this season, he beats a series of tunes, monotonous perhaps, but rather pleasing to Billie and me. After beating a tune, he screams at the top of his voice, “Get up; get up.” He is an alarm clock and a great nuisance to those who love their morning nap, but I would not allow him to be disturbed, he seems so business-like and earnest. My wife was disposed to disparage his musical attainments, but when she saw the marvelous rapidity of his strokes and the beauty of his red crest flashing in the slanting sunlight she became a partisan.

It should be said, of course, that after the brief season of courtship is over and Billie’s wife is busy about her housekeeping, he is less musical and we do not have our reveille so regularly.

Early last spring a pair of English sparrows took possession of Billie’s house and worked with a diligence worthy a better cause to fill it with sticks and bits of straw. I was interested at once and waited eagerly to see what Billie would do when he should return. I did not have many days to wait. One fine day I heard Billie hammering a gay tune. I watched and was soon rewarded. Billie seemed taken aback, but soon recovered from his surprise and proceeded to clean house at a great rate. Meantime the sparrows could do nothing but scold, and I confess to a degree of satisfaction in their discomfiture. For once the speckled little Ishmaelites were impotent.

Finally the last straw was thrown out and Billie perched upon the limb that served as a portico for his house, screamed with defiance and satisfaction. Soon he flew to a distant part of the grove in search of the future Mrs. Flicker, I suppose, and was gone for perhaps an hour. The sparrows worked desperately and had nearly all of the material replaced when Billie, disappointed in his quest and in no very good humor, returned. This time Billie’s patience was entirely gone and he threw sticks right and left, stopping occasionally to scream with anger. He seemed to know there would be little use in chasing the pesky sparrows. He did not go far from home after that, so that the sparrows were compelled to go house hunting elsewhere.

Billie mounted guard over his fireside and his altars for several days, treating us to a quantity if not a variety of drum solos, and the seductive notes of his cross cut saw of a voice were in constant evidence. He never knew the sorrow of the human performer of like merit when his best friends are willing for him to rest.

One fine day a demure looking female, attracted by his music, came and critically examined the house. I knew she was already won, but Billie did not, and it was amusing to watch his antics. Did you ever see a Flicker desperately in love? It was evidently love at first sight with Billie. He spread his wings, showed the jet black crescent on his vest, displayed the crimson glory of his crest, played his most catchy tune on the xylophone and sang his most melodious song. Meantime the coy female, already decided, still appeared to be unable to make up her mind. She made as if to go on, and Billie was in despair, and redoubled his persuasion. She had never heard such a tattoo, nor seen such a xylophone, nor yet so fine a fellow as Billie. Soon she stopped her pretended search for larvae under the loose bark and made another inspection of the house. She exemplified the maxim, “To hesitate is to be lost,” and soon she and Billie were busy with their housekeeping. The sparrows got no further chance to occupy Billie’s summer home. A happy family was reared and educated and in the autumn disappeared.

As I write Billie has returned and is beating a merry tune, while six or more sparrows sit around listening as if to learn how. Mrs. Flicker has not yet returned, but I believe the sparrows have given up the idea of taking his house. I am in doubt about Mrs. Flicker, but I know Billie. He is larger and handsomer than ever. I have studied his every beautiful feather. Sometimes I think he jumps behind a limb just to tease me, but I am fond of him and I hope he may return for many years.

    Rowland Watts.

BEAUTIFUL VINES TO BE FOUND IN OUR WILD WOODS

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