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The Mentor, No. 34, Game Birds of America




THE MENTOR

“A Wise and Faithful Guide and Friend”.

    VOL. 1      No. 34




GAME BIRDS OF AMERICA

    RUFFED GROUSE

    BOB WHITE

    WILD TURKEY

    CANADA GOOSE

    MALLARD

    CANVASBACK

_By EDWARD H. FORBUSH, State Ornithologist of Massachusetts_

_Author of “Useful Birds and Their Protection,” “A History of Game
Birds, Wild Fowl, and Shore Birds,” etc._


[Illustration: YOUNG GROUSE

_The young bird learning to perch above the reach of prowling enemies._]

North America, when discovered by Columbus, probably contained more
game birds than any other continent. The great falling off in the
number of these birds in recent times has been accentuated by the
extinction of the passenger pigeon and the Eskimo curlew, and the rapid
disappearance of many others, among which are the whooping crane and
the sandhill crane, great birds that are gradually being swept from
the continent. The upland plover, formerly abundant in every suitable
grassy region east of the Rocky Mountains, is now facing extinction,
and its salvation is beyond hope, unless the regulations, protecting
it at all times, recently made by the United States Department of
Agriculture, under the Weeks-McLean law, can be enforced. The rails do
not appear to have decreased in number quite so rapidly as have the
shore birds; but from the king rail, the finest of them all, down to
the sora they are much less numerous than in the early years of the
last century.


THE RUFFED GROUSE

[Illustration: A RUFFED GROUSE NEST]

“_Whir-r-r-r-r-r-r--clip-clip-clip--_” Heavens! what was that? Anyhow,
it’s gone, and nobody’s hurt. How well I recall the startling sound
that checked in an instant my headlong pursuit of a baby cottontail
rabbit when, from the leaves almost beneath my feet, up sprang a
feathered projectile with thundering wings, which sped away in headlong
flight through whirling leaves and bending twigs, disappearing in an
instant in the thick of the trees. There I (aged eight) stood, gazing
after this new wonder, while little Cottontail made good its escape. I
had seen my first grouse, the king of game birds.

[Illustration: YOUNG GROUSE

_Confident that they are hidden from the camera man._]

In the North this grouse is known as the partridge; Southerners
recognize it as the pheasant; but how few of us know more about it!
How few realize that it flies quietly when undisturbed, or that
it has a variety of notes, ranging from the soft, cooing mother’s
call to the harsh scream or squeal with which she hurls herself at
some enemy of her brood. Many have heard the drumming of the male,
“_Thump--thump--thump--thump, thump_; _thump, thump-rup, rup rup rup
r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r_”; but how many know that some seasons in some
localities they do not drum at all? And why not?

[Illustration: RUFFED GROUSE ON NEST

_This picture was taken by leaving the camera set all night. The
bird itself pulled a thread which released the shutter early in the
morning._]

In my notebooks the nest of the ruffed grouse figures as a hollow in
the ground, lined with dead leaves or pine needles. The eggs range from
seven to twelve; in one case fifteen. The mother does not commonly
cover them on leaving the nest; although a bird was once seen to do so
by dropping straws and leaves on her back and then sliding out from
under.

[Illustration: GROUSE

_A favorite drumming log and trysting place._]

What keeps the eggs from harm for weeks in the open woods? The grouse
often brings off her young safely not far from the home of hawk,
crow, or fox. Does the mother bird leave no scent by which her many
four-footed enemies can find her? In one case, at least, well trained
pointer and setter dogs could not find the bird on the nest, even
after she had walked away and returned to it. Sometimes a dog or a fox
blunders on the nest, and then the mother, every feather on end, flies
at him in an attempt to drive him away; but this does not scare or
deceive cunning Reynard, and in an instant his mouth is full of eggs.
Sometimes a prowling cat catches the mother on her eggs at night, and
that ends the family history; but in the majority of cases the eggs
safely hatch.

The little ones all come from the shell together, and are fully
equipped to find their own living. They need the mother only as guard,
defender, and shelter. When they pop out of the eggs they leave the
nest forever, and thenceforth they are at home in Robin Hood’s barn,
and sleep wherever weariness or night overtakes them. A little roving
band of downy, brownie, striped chicks, they keep close together,
running here and there, always hunting, picking insects from grass,
ground, and foliage; while the mother, stalking behind, herds them
along with soft and gentle calls, acting as rear guard, to give warning
of any enemy that may be upon their trail, to lead the destroyer away
if she can, to defend them with her life if she cannot, and to brood
them beneath her maternal breast whenever they are wet, cold, tired,
or sleepy. Wherever night finds them there they snuggle down to sleep,
protected from cold and storm by her tireless devotion. Probably the
little ones do not leave much scent; but the fox, raccoon, mink,
weasel, dog, and cat may cross their trail at any moment, crows, owls,
and hawks menace them; yet commonly about half of them escape all
danger and grow and thrive while the summer waxes and wanes. They learn
to fly by the end of the first week. Before they are half grown they
leave the ground at night, and roost with the mother in the trees.

[Illustration: A YOUNG GROUSE

_This grouse was but nine months old. At this age the male is not
distinguishable from the female._]

When the “leaves begin to turn” the well grown brood seeks the wild
grapevines and the wild apple and thorn trees that it may eat the
fruit. When the first heavy snow falls the few that have safely run
the gantlet of the guns squat beneath the low-spreading branches of
some evergreen tree and calmly allow the snow to cover them if it will.
They are ready for winter now, and have donned their snowshoes. What!
really? Yes, actually. They have grown horny processes on both sides of
the toes which will help to support their weight on packed snow or thin
crust, and they are perfectly at home on or under the snow. If a crust
freezes over them, they make their way beneath it, feeding on twigs and
ground vegetation until they can break out. When pursued they dive from
on wing into the snow, and push their way below the surface, to burst
out again farther on. It is exceedingly difficult to starve the grouse.
They will live on frozen twigs, buds, laurel leaves, sumac berries,
or birch and alder catkins. So my notebooks cover the history of the
grouse through all the seasons of the livelong year.


THE BOB WHITE

[Illustration: BOB WHITE IN WINTER

_These little birds have a hard time finding food when the snow is on
the ground._]

“_Bob white! You bob white!_” cries a brave little fowl from the top
rail of the old fence. His call is the embodiment of cheerfulness.
There is something heartening in the sound. This is due in part to its
rich and vigorous quality, and in part to its rising termination--the
question in the final note--as if it said “All right there, Fellows?”
How different from the note of the whippoorwill, with its falling
inflection and its general expression of sad finality. The whippoorwill
may be a cheerful bird. One is inclined to doubt it; but we _know_ Bob
White is happy. Just hear him! He looks it too. Thus this cheerful
little optimist makes his way to the hearts of men. Even the sportsmen
who slay him love him, and are often his best friends,--after the
shooting season,--and the epicure loves him--on toast. Down South they
call him partridge. In the North he is known as the quail; but the
ornithologists, who try to settle such matters for all, have taken his
word for it and have named him Bob White.

[Illustration: A YOUNG BOB WHITE]

This cheery little manikin is about the most important North American
bird that flies, not excepting even the American eagle. He is the
farmer’s friend. Almost every insect pest of the garden and field is
grist for his mill. All spring and summer he slays his thousands and
tens of thousands, and in the fall he fattens up on millions of weed
seeds. Yes, grain too; but only the waste grain left in the stubble.
That is about all the grain he takes--and, after all this, many farmers
get the sportsman to pay off the taxes on their farms for the privilege
of shooting their little friend! Thus the school taxes are paid, and
Bob White settles for the education of the children.

[Illustration: YOUNG BOB WHITES

_The birds in this group are seven weeks old._]

The pursuit of Bob White is a blessed boon to many jaded and
brain-wearied business and professional men. Some believe that they
have lengthened their lives by trying to shorten his. How the bird
has survived with so many “friends” thirsting for his blood is hard
to tell; but for all his trustfulness he is not so easily taken.
Many gunners have believed that he can sometimes fool the best dog
by “holding his scent.” I have seen him several times squat close to
the ground on the approach of a dog, draw his head flat between his
shoulders, and “sit tight” while the dog poked along, his nose to the
ground, absolutely unconscious of the whereabouts of the little bird;
but let a man appear, and the bird shows more anxiety and takes greater
pains to get away or hide. I have seen him, when alarmed, disappear as
if he had put on a coat of invisibility, and then, when the danger was
past, grow out of the scenery, and walk right toward me from the very
spot on which my powerful glass had been focused all the time. How he
does this is another story.

Why talk about his habits? Everybody who does not know them can have
a good time studying them; for his life is open for all to see. What
concerns us most is how we can make this useful, companionable friend
to man more plentiful. In the District of Columbia they have solved
the problem by forbidding shooting for the last few years, and there
in some places the chorus of Bob Whites sounds like that of the little
frogs in springtime. A close season for five years on this bird
would do more to stock the country than any other method now known;
except, perhaps, in the northernmost part of its range, where it is
sometimes almost exterminated by a severe winter. Eventually artificial
propagation may solve our problem; for Bob White is a very prolific
bird.


THE WILD TURKEY

[Illustration: Copyright, 1912, by Outdoor World and Recreation

THE WILD TURKEY

_Often called the grandest bird of America._]

The ruffed grouse may be the king of game birds in the field; but the
wild turkey, the largest game bird that flies, is to my mind king of
them all on the table. A young wild turkey, well roasted, is a dish
for the gods. The domesticated turkey is not in the same class; nor
is it a descendant of our wild turkey. It was bred from the Mexican
turkey, a bird of another race, not so handsome as ours, and having a
white rump. This turkey was domesticated by the Aztecs, and hundreds
of thousands were bred by them in domestication long before America
was discovered by Columbus. Europeans received the bird from the hands
of the Indians. The white man never has succeeded in domesticating any
American game bird sufficiently to bring it into general use. The task
still lies before us. The American Ornithologists’ Union now recognizes
but one species and five subspecies of the wild turkey, all of which
are natives of this continent.

[Illustration: WILD TURKEY

_This picture shows a female with its young. It is reproduced from
one of the famous set of plates of “Birds of America,” made by J. J.
Audubon._]

The range of the species formerly extended over Mexico, most of the
United States, and into southern Ontario. The early explorers found
it roving in large flocks along the Atlantic seaboard, and at times
migrating in great armies in search of food.

[Illustration: A WOODCOCK]

We can form little idea today of the former almost incredible abundance
of these noble birds. Our forefathers were accustomed to hunt them
for the Thanksgiving dinner, and they rarely failed to secure a good
supply. The bird is now extinct through the greater part of its former
range. It was hunted, trapped, and shot at all seasons, and is likely
to vanish from the earth unless it can be propagated under partial
domestication and restored to its former habitat.


THE CANADA GOOSE

There is a quality in the cry of the wild geese returning northward in
the spring that stirs the blood of all to whom the “Red Gods” call.
That wild and solemn clamor ringing down the sky is as “the voice
of one crying in the wilderness.” All eyes are turned to follow the
baseless triangle drifting fast across the sky. What memories are
awakened by that resounding call,--memories of open marsh or prairie,
sounding shore and placid bay, lake or river, scenes of a wilderness of
waters or of plains; for the wild goose is a bird of the waste places!
Two hundred years ago it nested over the greater part of the continent;
but civilization and market hunting have confined it now mainly to the
vast morasses of the North, where it seeks some island in the marshy
lands and there makes its nest.

[Illustration: RING-NECK PLOVER

_This bird mother is brooding a chick._]

The goose normally mates for life, and as its life is reckoned to last
about one hundred years the partnership, barring accidents, is a long
one; but life is full of accidents. The goose does not reach maturity
early, and therefore does not breed for the first few years. The gander
is not such a goose as he looks; for in his constant watch over mate,
nest, and young he shows both courage and sagacity. He defends his mate
and brood to the utmost extremity. He is said to be a victor sometimes
over the crafty fox, and he easily drives away the deer or elk when
his young are in danger. The goslings take to the water early; but
they like to go ashore to feed on the green grass and herbage of the
uplands, and there they often run into trouble. One of their greatest
aquatic enemies is the snapping turtle. I have known one of these
monsters to capture a full grown goose by catching its foot. In the
fierce struggle that followed the goose escaped only by tearing its
leg from the socket, and died a miserable death from the result of its
fearful wound.

[Illustration: CANADA GOOSE

_The male is standing and the female sitting._]

When advancing winter seals the waters of their northern home, the
geese gather in flocks, rise in air, and turn their faces to the south.
They travel by well known landmarks, and unlike many sea fowl often
become confused in a fog. Therefore, I believe they never intentionally
fly out of sight of land; though they often cross wide bays and inlets.


THE MALLARD

The mallard is a cosmopolitan, the wild duck of the world, the
progenitor of the domestic duck, and the chief water fowl of the game
preserve. Its eggs and flesh formed a considerable part of the food
of Indians and early settlers. Vast numbers of mallards formerly bred
not only in Canada and Alaska, but in the western United States. Tons
and tons of these birds were killed for their feathers by Indians and
halfbreeds in the South and West. Boats loaded to the gunwales, wagons
piled with ducks, to be given away; tons of birds spoiled before they
could be shipped, then hauled out and dumped into the coulées; markets
glutted and marketmen unable to handle the birds,--these were all
episodes of the time of plenty. The result of this appalling waste, and
the settlement of a large part of their breeding grounds, has been a
tremendous decrease in the number of mallards in the country; but the
birds may be readily replaced by protection and artificial propagation,
and the mallard is not in any immediate danger of extinction.

[Illustration: BLACK DUCKS

_The birds are gathering to feed._]

It nests in marsh or slough wherever it is undisturbed. The little
ones, when hatched, soon reach shallow water, where they are perfectly
at home. They swim about the sedge and water plants, catching insects,
and when danger threatens keep concealed and sheltered by the herbage.
They are often in peril, not only from hawks, owls, eagles, gulls, and
herons, foxes, minks, and dogs, but they are attacked on all sides in
their own element. Great frogs and fish spring to seize them with open
mouths. Turtles prey upon them, and in the South alligators devour
many. When a dog scents the little family in shoal waters and rushes
in, the mother throws herself in his way and flutters off as if sorely
wounded. While he chases her eagerly, his open mouth close to her tail,
the little ones dive and swim away, more under water than above it,
and, leaving the slough, crawl through the grass to the next refuge,
hiding there safely until all danger is passed. Inherited experience
has taught them the way of life, that their species may be perpetuated.


THE CANVASBACK

[Illustration: BLACK DUCKS

_These birds were purposely flushed and taken on the first upward
spring._]

Long live the canvasback! His fame has gone farther, perhaps, than
that of any other American game bird. Some epicures rank him above
the little-neck, the lobster, or the terrapin, and he is considered a
greater luxury than quail on toast. Yet the canvasback, when deprived
of its favorite food, the wild celery, is hardly superior to the
despised mud-hen. Wilson tells us that many years ago a vessel loaded
with wheat was wrecked near Great Egg Harbor. The wheat floated out
in quantities, and soon the bay was “covered” with a new kind of duck
unknown to the local gunners. They had great sport for three weeks,
shooting canvasbacks, and sold them for twenty-five cents a pair; but
did not discover the particular excellence of their flesh. They finally
learned what they were and that they might have disposed of them for
four times the sum they had received.

Redheads, which feed to a great extent on wild celery, often appear
on the table masquerading as canvasbacks. In one case, at least, the
gunner sold to some innocent clerks a lot of fish-eating sheldrakes or
mergansers under the name of canvasbacks. I am told that the dishes
that resulted were about as palatable as a bundle of old stewed
kerosene lampwicks.

No longer ago than 1850 canvasbacks hovered in interminable flocks
about Chesapeake Bay. Over ten thousand people were accustomed to shoot
there. These ducks were then plentiful in all first class restaurants
and hotels of the East. The glories of Chesapeake Bay as a shooting
ground have largely departed, and canvasback ducks are now rarely seen
on tables where they formerly appeared often; but there is still a
stock of breeding birds left, and with adequate protection it will be
long before we see the last of the species. So far as I know, no one
has as yet succeeded in breeding this bird in captivity. Therefore we
cannot depend on artificial propagation; but must protect the stock of
wild birds.

[Illustration: DUCKS SWIMMING ACROSS A BAY]

    SUPPLEMENTARY READING--Wild Fowl of North America, and North
    American Shore Birds, by Daniel Giraud Elliot; Feathered
    Game of the Northeast, by Walter H. Rich; American Game Bird
    Shooting, by George Bird Grinnell.




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_Editorial_

The legend of The Mentor must by this time have become familiar to all
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Friend.” We have been asked the origin of this. The phrase is quoted
exactly from the definition of MENTOR as given by one of the highest
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It is the natural response to the offer of service that The Mentor
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earnest in its desire to benefit by this service. It seemed to us that
we could not express the spirit of The Mentor better than by quoting
literally the phrase that defines the word--“a guide and friend.”

       *       *       *       *       *

In return The Mentor reader can be in the full sense a guide and friend
to us. There must be an exchange in order to get the greatest good
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people in the very best way, not by writing down, but simply by using
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the whole enterprise, the more I believe in it.”

       *       *       *       *       *

We want to know what you think of The Mentor, and we want you to tell
us how we can be of benefit to you as a member of the Association.
Our service is not complete in simply sending you The Mentor and the
pictures week by week. We can bring you in touch with our Advisory
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and intelligent direction as to the organization and conducting of
reading clubs; also expert information concerning books and pictures
that bear on the topics in The Mentor. In the day’s mail we find one
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       *       *       *       *       *

Another writer asks for a selection of pictures suitable for wall
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help of course, for we have a great store of good art material, to
which we are adding each week and from which a wide variety of subjects
can be selected.




[Illustration: RUFFED GROUSE

COPYRIGHTED BY LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES, 1906]




_GAME BIRDS OF AMERICA_

_Ruffed Grouse (Bonasa umbella)_

ONE


The drumming of a ruffed grouse is like the sound of a rattlesnake:
only those who have heard it know what it is like. It seems to
come from any part of the thicket or woods, like the voice of a
ventriloquist. Sometimes it resembles distant thunder or the rumble
of wheels. Early in spring the male steps cautiously out on a log,
first making sure that no fox or weasel is hiding near. His rich
chestnut hue, with purple or bronze on the ruffs, and white-barred
tail, harmonizes beautifully with the shadows of the surrounding spruce
thicket. Then he rises on tiptoe, and with wings held out a little way
from the body begins his thump, thump, thump--faster and faster until
it dies away in a mere rumbling. Hunters at one time supposed that this
sound was made by the wings striking against the log or stump; but it
is now known to be produced by rapid vibration of the quill feathers.
Usually there are hen grouse nearby who sneak up through the leaves to
watch his performance. He takes them all if he can find them, for the
grouse cock prefers a harem; and they go about in a flock together.
Day after day the drummer returns to his favorite log, until the warm
weather comes on.

Sportsmen often speak of shooting pheasants, when in reality they mean
grouse; for there are no native pheasants in the United States, the
nearest approach being, strangely enough, our wild turkey. Often the
ruffed grouse is spoken of as a partridge--and where that is so Bob
White is called a quail.

Still plentiful in spite of many thousand guns aimed at its life,
the grouse ranges over the whole of northern North America, making
short migrations in search of food or winter quarters. Sometimes when
wintering in tall timber it eats great quantities of laurel buds;
which, gunners say, makes the flesh highly poisonous for food. The
survival of this game bird in such great numbers is due in a large
measure to the whir of its flight, which serves a double purpose,
startling the gunner and warning all other birds in the neighborhood.
Some sportsmen never become accustomed to the sound; but are always
unnerved and powerless to shoot the bird that makes it. One gunner,
after having stood paralyzed before each grouse as it started up near
him and whirred away out of range, roused himself with a desperate
effort, and as the next thundered away brought the gun to his shoulder,
shouting “Bang!” at the top of his lungs, while the grouse sped on
unharmed.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 1, No. 34, SERIAL No. 34
    COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: BOB WHITE

COPYRIGHTED BY LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES, 1906]




_GAME BIRDS OF AMERICA_

_Bob White (Colinus virginianus)_

TWO


Bob White is a brisk, enterprising little fellow with a heart full of
hope, as his cheery greeting will tell you. He has been subjected to
much discussion. “Bob White is quail,” say some; others insist that
there are no quail in America and that Bob White is partridge. An
acknowledged authority states that Bob White is called quail in the
North and East, while in the South and West he is partridge. Wherever
the ruffed grouse is called pheasant Bob White is called partridge;
where the grouse is known as partridge Bob White is called quail.

And we all know what he calls himself whenever he has his little
say--and what he says of himself is gladly accepted everywhere.
Bob White is a popular favorite among game birds on account of his
attractive habits and the fact that he is to be found in almost all
sections of the country--and wherever found he displays the qualities
that make good hunting. He lives more in the open than the ruffed
grouse, and by his admirers he is counted a finer game bird.

Bob White varies in color, in size, and in quality as a game bird in
various sections of the United States, West Indies, Mexico, and Central
America. As the ruffed grouse becomes less common and more difficult
to get, on account of the disappearance of our forests, Bob White is
assuming more and more the rank of the leading American game bird. For
that reason the game law is strict, and sportsmen are much concerned in
propagating the species. The effect of this is to change somewhat the
qualities that have characterized Bob White in different localities.
For example, the robust, hardy, and large-sized Bob White that was
known in the New England States in past years is now extinct, and it
has been replaced by a somewhat less sturdy type of bird introduced
from Kansas and the Carolinas. These birds, not accustomed to the
rigorous winter of the northern states, have a hard time when the
weather is bitterly cold. In a severe winter in New England poor little
“planted” Bob White is, in the most pathetic sense of the phrase of
the day, “up against it.” He has to be sheltered and fed largely by
his human friends. Some day, no doubt, as the natural law of survival
works it out, Bob White will grow hardy and self-sustaining under the
severest conditions in the northern states.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 1, No. 34, SERIAL No. 34
    COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: WILD TURKEY

COPYRIGHTED BY LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES, 1906]




_GAME BIRDS OF AMERICA_

_Wild Turkey (Meleagris gallopavo)_

THREE


Imagine an old gobbler leading his hens about the forest near some
Puritan settlement. They stretch their long necks here and there over
the leaves, picking up acorns and chestnuts, when suddenly one finds
a grain of corn, and another, and another, leading off in a straight
line. Away go the turkeys scrambling over one another, and the greedy
gobbler makes sure of his share. The train of corn leads along through
dense underbrush, turns sharp to the left and under an old log. Without
noticing what is beyond, the turkeys go down through a trench, their
heads to the ground, and come up on the other side of the log, where
there is more grain spread all round. After a few minutes the corn is
eaten, and the gobbler looks around for a hole to get out by. He finds
that there are four dark walls surrounding his flock, and overhead are
logs with space enough between to let in the light, but not to let out
the turkeys. They walk around craning their necks up at the light; for
they have bad memories, and depend on sharp eyesight to get them out
of trouble. The trench goes down under the log, and therefore no light
comes through it--a circumstance that the turkey does not think about.
So the poor gobbler and all his flock stay in the trap, because they do
not know enough to go out the opening they came in by.

The turkey does not come from the Turkish empire; but is a distinctly
American bird. The Pilgrim fathers, when they heard it say, “Turk,
turk, turk” may have thought of that name, or it may have been given by
those adventurers who first carried the bird to Europe. Turkeys were
domesticated in Mexico by the Montezumas, and specimens were taken
from there to the West Indies about 1520, and introduced from the West
Indies into Europe. Later the European birds were brought to America.
Our domestic turkey therefore is a Mexican bird, differing from the
native turkey of this region.

Wild birds are now rare. In the southern Adirondacks and even parts
of the West, where there are still enough to tempt the hunter, they
furnish excellent sport; for the old gobbler is a wise bird when traps
are forbidden. The usual method of hunting is by tracks in the snow,--a
difficult sport, requiring especial skill; for the turkey flies long
distances if pursued. In the West it has been hunted on horseback with
greyhound.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 1, No. 34, SERIAL No. 34
    COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: CANADA GOOSE

COPYRIGHTED BY LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES, 1906]




_GAME BIRDS OF AMERICA_

_Canada Goose (Bernicla canadensis)_

FOUR


There is no more exhilarating sound in nature than the sonorous honking
of wild geese. Who has not at some time in his life heard, far aloft,
the well-known trumpet “_Honk!_” and the prompt answers all down the
two lines as the V-shaped flock winged swiftly forward? Usually the
geese fly in a broad, V-shaped line; but this is not constant, and one
sometimes sees them flying in a long, whiplike curve. This seems to be
when they are temporarily disturbed, as by some strong change in the
air currents. But it seldom lasts long, as the birds soon rearrange
themselves in their geometrical angle formation. In the raw, windy
days at winter’s end, as the flocks fly north, the old gander’s cry is
accepted as a guarantee of spring, and hailed with joy.

The Canada goose is the largest of the wild geese of North America.
Its average length is about thirty-five inches, and it usually weighs
fifteen pounds or even more. This bird has a jet black head and neck,
with a conspicuous white crescent encircling the throat. The black on
the neck ends abruptly where the neck joins the body, and the general
tone of the latter is gray-brown. Its neck is longer, and generally
more slender, than those of other birds.

There are few warier birds than the Canada goose. Unless the hunter has
much experience or exceptional advantages, he will find them very hard
to get. The number of birds that still survive testify to the wariness,
the keenness of vision, and the good judgment of this much prized
bird. For this reason they will probably long continue to lend their
wonderful charm to our spring and autumn skies, and to be an inspiring
index upon which the weatherwise base their forecasts.

The Canada goose winters in Texas, along the Gulf of Mexico, and in the
sounds and bays of Virginia and the Carolinas, and goes north early in
the spring. In the summer it inhabits the far North, from Labrador and
the Saskatchewan regions north to the Arctic Ocean. In August, like
many of the ducks, these birds molt the entire wing, and at that season
their chief enemies are the Indians and Eskimos, who catch them in
great numbers.

However, for eating the gander is not very good. His flesh is strong,
tough, and unpleasant. The females and tender goslings are far more
highly prized as food.

The gander is very energetic and courageous in defending his mate on
the nest. W. T. Hornaday, director of the New York Zoölogical Park,
tells an anecdote that illustrates this. “Last spring,” he says, “two
of our geese paired off and built a nest on the south bank of the
Mammals’ Pond, in a very exposed situation. From that time until the
young were hatched the gander never once wandered from his post. It was
his rule never to go more than sixty feet from the nest, and whenever
anyone approached it he immediately hastened to intercept the intruder,
hissing and threatening with his wings in a most truculent manner. Had
anyone persisted in disturbing the female he would willingly, even
cheerfully, have shed his blood in her defense. His unswerving devotion
to his duty attracted the admiring attention of thousands of visitors,
and the proudest day of his life was when the first live gosling was
led to the water, and launched with appropriate ceremonies.”

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 1, No. 34, SERIAL No. 34
    COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: MALLARD DUCK

COPYRIGHTED BY LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES, 1906]




_GAME BIRDS OF AMERICA_

_Mallard Duck (Anas boscas)_

FIVE


One day late in May a number of years ago, W. T. Hornaday, director
of the New York Zoölogical Park, when collecting in Montana, found a
little water hole, hardly ten feet in diameter, hiding in the sunken
head of a dry coulée. All around in every direction for miles and miles
the sagebrush, shimmering in the heat of the early summer, stretched in
a billowy sea. But as he dismounted for a drink, up from her nest in
the sagebrush by the side of the pool rose a mallard duck. “And,” says
Mr. Hornaday, “as I gazed in astonishment at this nest and its contents
beside an insignificant bit of water in a landscape that was certainly
not made for ducks, I understood how it is that this bird has been able
to spread itself all around the northern two-thirds of the globe.”

The mallard is the best known and most generally distributed of wild
ducks. It is found throughout the entire northern hemisphere. It is
the most cosmopolitan of all wild fowl, and the original stock of our
numerous varieties of tame ducks.

The mallard is wary and wise. It is one of the largest ducks; it is
one of the handsomest; it is very strong on the wing, and highly
intelligent. The drake, with his shining green head, mahogany breast,
violet striped wings and pearl-gray body, is one of our most striking
and beautiful ducks. The female is a very different looking bird. She
is of a modest brown color, streaked with black.

Mallards are hardy birds. While the center of winter abundance is in
the southern middle districts, still a number remain in the New York
state marshes until they freeze over, frequently into December, so
that they are found in company with canvasbacks, redheads, and the big
bluebills.

In England the mallard is known as the stock duck, because it was the
original stock from which the domestic duck has descended. It pairs
very early in the year. The ceremonies of courtship require some
little time; but soon after these are performed the respective couples
separate in search of suitable nesting places. A little dry grass is
usually collected, and on it the eggs, from nine to eleven in number,
are laid. As soon as incubation begins the mother starts in to divest
herself of the down that grows thickly beneath her breast feathers, and
adds it to the nest furniture; so that the eggs are deeply imbedded in
this heat-retaining substance--a portion of which she is always careful
to pull, as a coverlet, over her treasures when she leaves them for
food.

However, the mother rarely leaves the nest during the hatching period.
When all the eggs are hatched the brood is led carefully to water, and
throughout the summer the mother watches over the chicks until they are
full grown and feathered.

During the summer the mallard molts all the wing feathers at once;
so that for a month he is unable to fly. Were the drake, with his
conspicuous coloring, to be left thus helpless, the species would not
long survive, as he would be an easy prey for all the carnivorous
enemies that surround him. So nature has provided a temporary
protection in the so-called “eclipse” plumage, which, closely
resembling that of the female, is worn only during midsummer while the
wings are growing, to be supplanted by the rich suit in which we see
him on his fall trip to the South.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 1, No. 34, SERIAL No. 34
    COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: CANVASBACK DUCK

COPYRIGHTED BY LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES, 1906]




_GAME BIRDS OF AMERICA_

_Canvasback (Fuligula vallisneria)_

SIX


The canvasback, most famous of wild fowl, is a purely and exclusively
American species, ranging during the year over practically the whole
North American continent. But now this duck is little more than a
bird of history. It has been almost exterminated by the gunners. Once
the delight of the epicure, it promises soon to become a curiosity.
Canvasbacks breed principally in the interior of British America and
Alaska. They make their first migration southward during October.
As they are a very hardy bird, many canvasbacks spend the winter in
the northern states. But it is in the middle and southern states,
particularly in the Chesapeake, that they congregate in greatest
numbers.

When they have fed for sometime upon the _vallisneria_ or wild celery,
their flesh is unexcelled among wild fowl. But if they are not able to
get this food they taste very little better than the poorer species,
and are far inferior to such river ducks as the mallard, the dusky
duck, gadwall, teal, or pintail.

Canvasbacks closely resemble redheads in general appearance. But the
long, straight black bill and darker forehead are characteristic of the
canvasback alone. The redhead has a moderately short bluish gray bill
and a uniform light chestnut fluffy head.

Often redheads are substituted for canvasbacks upon the unknowing
purchaser. On the same feeding grounds one is about as good as the
other. The fraud consists in that while the price of the redhead is
very reasonable, that of the canvasback is fabulous.

The canvasback comes nicely to decoys usually, particularly if live
dusky ducks are used. But they become very cautious if they are much
hunted, especially in the North, where they go generally in pairs or
small companies. No statelier duck swims than the game and cautious
canvasback at such times. Aristocratic head held high, he warily draws
in toward the lures. Every sense is alert. He is ready for an instant
spring at the slightest movement or sound. Canvasbacks are expert
divers. If only wounded they are hard to retrieve. They will dive and
swim long distances under the surface, coming up in the rushes and
cattails at the edge of the water. There it is almost hopeless to try
to recover them.

These ducks are swift flying and strong. Their average length is about
twenty-two inches. The males look very white when on the wing. The
females have much the appearance of redheads.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 1, No. 34, SERIAL No. 34
    COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mentor: Game Birds of America,
Vol. 1, Num. 34, Serial No. 34, by Edward H. Forbush

*** 