Chapter 6 MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE OUTDOOR FOLK

In the Woods, the Fields, on the Shore. Stalking Animals and Birds

There is but one way to make friends with the folk of the wild, and that is by gentleness, kindness, and quietness. Also one must learn to be fearless. It is said that while animals may not understand our language they do understand, or feel, our attitude toward them; and if it is that of fear or dislike we stand little chance of really knowing them, to say nothing of establishing any kind of friendly relations with them. By quiet watchfulness, keenness of sight and hearing, you may obtain a certain amount of knowledge of their ways, but when you add real sympathy and kindly feeling you gain their confidence and friendship. Make them understand that you will not interfere with or harm them, and they will go about their own affairs unafraid in your presence. Then you may silently watch their manner of living, their often amusing habits, and their frank portrayal of character. As a guest in the wild, conducting yourself as a courteous guest should, you will be well treated by your wild hosts, some of whom, in time, may even permit you to feed and stroke them. They do not dislike but fear you; they would rather be your friends than your enemies. The baby animal which has not yet learned to fear a human being will sometimes, when in danger, run to you for protection. This must win your heart if nothing else can.

Making friends with a ruffed grouse.

Stalking

You may stalk an animal by remaining quiet as well as by following its trail. To even see some of the inhabitants of woods, fields, and shore you must be willing to exercise great patience and conform to their method of hiding by remaining absolutely still. It is the thing that moves that they fear. Some of the animals appear not even to see a person who remains motionless. At any rate, they ignore him as they do a stump or stone.

For this quiet stalking, find as comfortable a seat as you can where you have reason to think some kind of animal or animals will pass and resign yourself to immovable waiting. If the rock beneath you grows unreasonably hard or the tree roots develop sharp edges, or the ground sends up unnoticed stones of torment; if your foot "goes to sleep" or your nose itches, bear the annoyances bravely and your reward will be sure and ample. If the wait is unduly long and movement of some kind becomes imperative, let such movement be made so slowly as to be almost imperceptible. Remember that unseen, suspicious eyes will be attracted by any sudden action and the faintest sound will be heard, for these spell danger to the wilderness folk and if frightened away they are not apt to return.

Keep your ears open to detect the first sound of approaching life. There is a thrill in this experience, and another when the animal you have heard comes boldly out before you. Then it is you will find that, in some mysterious way, all bodily discomfort has vanished. Your whole being is absorbed in the movements of the creature who is unconscious of your presence, and there is no room for other sensations. More animals may appear and perhaps a little drama may be enacted as if for your benefit.

Found on the trail.

Chipmunk and white-footed mouse, panther, kangaroo rat, raccoon, and weasel.

It may be a tragedy, it may be a comedy, or it may be only a bit of every-day family life; but you do not know the plot nor how many actors will take part, and your very uncertainty adds zest to the situation.

Animals Found on the Trail

The animals most frequently seen in the woods where there is no longer any large game are the chipmunk, the red, the gray, and the black squirrel, the rabbit and hare, the fox, weasel, pine-marten, woodchuck, raccoon, opossum, and skunk, also the pack-rat (of the west), the white-footed and field mouse. In deeper and wilder forests there are deer and porcupine, though deer are found quite near habitations at times. In more remote places there are the moose and caribou; the bear, mountain-lion, lynx or wildcat, and the timber-wolf. The wolf is, however, equally at home in the open and at this day is most plentiful on the wide plains of the west. Unless your trail leads through the remote wilderness, you will hardly come across the more savage animals, and when you do invade their territory it will give you greater courage to call to mind the fact that they, as well as the smaller wild things, are afraid of man. Our most experienced hunters and our best writers on the subject of animal life agree that a wild animal's first emotion upon seeing a human being is undoubtedly fear. When you come upon one suddenly you may feel sure that he is as much frightened as you are and will probably turn aside to avoid you unless he thinks you are going to attack him. All wild creatures are afraid of fire, therefore the camp-fire is a barrier they will not pass, and a blazing firebrand will drive any of them away.

Timber wolves.

Birds

Among the feathered tribes of the woods you will find the owl, the woodcock, and the grouse. Of the smaller birds, the nuthatch, the wood and hermit thrush, whippoorwill, woodpeckers, wood-pewee, and others. Most of the birds prefer the edge of the woods, where they can dip into the sunshine and take long flights through the free air of the open; but the hermit-thrush, shyest and sweetest of singers, makes his home deep in the silent, shadowy forest. In these depths, and oftenest near a bog or marsh, you may also hear the call of the partridge, or more properly, the ruffed grouse. As given by the writer William J. Long, the call is like this:

"Prut, prut, pr-r-r-rt! Whit-kwit? Pr-r-r-rt, pr-r-r-rt! Ooo-it, ooo-it? Pr-r-reeee!"

Or perhaps you will be startled by the rolling drum-call. This begins slowly, increases rapidly, and ends something like this: "Dum! dum! dum! dum-dum-dum-dumdumdum!" The drum-call is made by the male bird who, beating the air with his wings, produces the sound. It is said to be a mating-call, but is heard at other times as well, long after the mating-season is over.

Baby moose.

Stalking the Ruffed Grouse

If you want to see the birds, stalk them when you hear their call. Wait until you locate the direction of the sound, then walk silently and follow it. As soon as the birds are sighted slip from one tree to another, stopping instantly when you think they may see you, until you can conceal yourself behind a bush, tree, or stump near enough for you to peer around and have a good view of your game. It may sometimes be necessary to drop to your knees in order to keep out of sight. If you have heard the drum it is the cock that you have stalked and, if early in the season, you will soon see his demure little mate steal through the underbrush to meet her lordly master as he stands proudly on an old log awaiting her. The "whit-kwit" call may lead you to the hen grouse with her brood of little chicks which are so much the color of the brown leaves you will not see them until they move. If the call comes later in the year you may come upon a flock of well-grown young birds who have left their mother and are now following a leader.

The ruffed grouse is a beautiful bird. He is yellowish-brown or rusty, splashed with black or dark brown, and white, with under-parts of a light buff. His beak is short and on his small, dainty head he carries his crest proudly. His shoulders bear epaulets of dark feathers, called the ruff, and his fan-like tail is banded and cross-barred. The nest of the grouse is on the ground, usually against a fallen log, at the foot of a tree, or in a hollow made by the roots; or it may be hidden amid underbrush. It is easily overlooked, being made of dry leaves with, perhaps, some feathers. In the season it contains from eight to fourteen eggs.

Woodcock

The woodcock, another forest bird, seldom shows himself in broad daylight except when hunted; then he will rise a few feet, fly a short distance, drop and run, hiding again as quickly as he can. You will know the woodcock from the ruffed grouse by his long bill, his short legs, and his very short tail. He frequents the banks of wooded streams or the bogs of the forests and, like the grouse, nests on the ground; but the woodcock's nest seldom contains more than four eggs.

Stalking wild birds.

Beaver

Along the shores of sluggish streams, of lonely lakes and ponds, you may see the beaver, the muskrat, very rarely the otter, and sometimes an ugly little, long-bodied animal belonging to the marten family called the fisher. These are all interesting, each in its own way, and well worth hours of quiet observation. The beaver, otter, and fisher choose wild, secluded places for their homes, but the muskrat may be found also in the marshes of farm lands. On the edges of our Long Island meadows the boys trap muskrats for their skins.

You will find the beaver house in the water close to the shore and overlapping it. Though strongly and carefully built, it looks very much like a jumble of small driftwood, with bleached sticks well packed together, and the ends standing out at all angles. The sticks are stripped of their bark and the house gleams whitely against the dark water. The houses vary in size, some being built as high as five feet. The beaver is rarely seen early in the day, most of his work is done at night, so the best time to watch for him is just before dusk or perhaps an hour before sundown. It is not well to wait to see the beaver if your trail back to camp is a long one, leading through dense forests. You would far better postpone making its acquaintance than to risk going over the, perhaps, treacherous paths after dark. Night comes early in the woods and darkness shuts down closely while it is still light in the open. If your camp is near the beaver house or beaver dam, or if your trip can be made by water, then, with no anxiety about your return, you can sit down and calmly await the coming of this most skilful of all building animals, and may see him add material to his house, or go on with his work of cutting down a tree, as a reward for your patience.

Fish-Hawk, Osprey

On the shore you will also find the fish-hawk, or osprey; a well-mannered bird he is said to be, who fishes diligently and attends strictly to his own business. The fish-hawk's nest will generally be at the top of a dead tree where no one may disturb or look into it, though, as the accompanying photograph shows, it is sometimes found on rocks near the ground. The young hawks have a way of their own of defending themselves from any climbing creature, and to investigators of the nest the results are disastrously disagreeable as well as laughable. As the intruder climbs near, the baby birds put their heads over the sides of the nest and empty their stomachs upon him. This is vouched for by a well-known writer who claims to have gone through the experience.

The female osprey is larger and stronger than the male. On slowly moving wings she sails over the water, dropping suddenly to clutch in her strong talons the fish her keen eyes have detected near the surface of the water. Fish are fish to the osprey and salt waters or fresh are the same to her. I have watched the bird plunge into the waves of the ocean, on the coast of Maine, to bring out a cunner almost too large for her to carry, and I have seen her drop into the placid waters of an Adirondack lake for lake-trout in the same manner.

Blue Heron

The great blue heron is one of the shore folk and his metallic blue-gray body gleams in the sunlight, as you sight him from your canoe, standing tall and slim, a lonely figure on the bank. He flies slowly and majestically, with his long legs streaming out behind. When out in a small boat on Puget Sound a large heron escorted us some distance. As we rowed near the shore he would fly ahead and then wait for us, standing solemnly on a stone in the water or a partially submerged log, to fly again as we approached.

The fish-hawk will sometimes build near the ground.

This escort business seems to be a habit of the heron family, for the same thing occurred on the Tomoca River, Fla., the home of the alligator, when a small, brilliantly blue heron flew ahead of our boat for several miles, always stopping to wait for us, and then going on again.

The heron is a fisher and when you see him standing close to the water, on one foot perhaps, he is awaiting his game. It matters not how long he must remain immovable, there he will stand until the fish comes within striking distance, when the long, curved neck will shoot out like a snake and the strong beak grasp its unwary prey.

Loon, Great Northern Diver

Another interesting bird, which you may both hear and see on secluded lakes, is the loon or great northern diver. I first heard the wild cry of the loon, a lonesome and eerie sound, on Pine River Pond, a small lake in the foot-hills of the White Mountains. There I saw the great bird dive and disappear beneath the water to remain an alarmingly long time, and then come up several hundred yards away, and rising, fly slowly to the shore. It is always a matter for guessing when the loon dives, for you can never tell where she will come up. This great diver is a large black-and-white bird, about the size of a goose. The breast is white, head black, and a white ring encircles its black neck. Its beak is long, its legs very short and placed far back on the body. It is essentially a water-bird, and on shore is both slow and awkward. I do not think it possible to become very intimate with the loon, for it is one of the wildest of our birds, and so suspicious it will allow no close approach, but quiet watching will reveal many of its interesting characteristics. Some one once found the nest of a loon and brought me a little, downy, young one that I might try to tame it; but it lived only a day or two in spite of all the devotion expended upon it, and its wild, frightened cry was too pathetic to allow of another experiment of the kind.

Animals and Birds of the Open

You will find that the wild life of the open differs in some respects from that of the woods, though there will be the woodchuck, the rabbit, the fox, and the hare in the fields and farm lands as well as in the woods. The weasel, too, makes unwelcome visits to the farm, but besides these there are other animals that are seldom or never found in the woods.

Field-Mouse

There is the little field-mouse, a short-eared and short-tailed little creature with a thick neck and of a red-brown color. It feeds on grain and seeds, and when hard pressed for food will also eat the bark of trees.

Kangaroo-Rat, Jumping Mouse

In the underbrush near a meadow and at the edges of thickets you may possibly see, though they are not common, a diminutive animal, beautiful in form and color and of most interesting habits. In the Southwest it is called the kangaroo-rat, but North and East it is known as the jumping mouse. The name kangaroo-rat is given because of its short fore legs, strong hind legs, and the kangaroo-like leaps it makes. In temper it is very unlike the ordinary rat; it does not bite and can be safely handled, but will not live if kept in captivity.

Pocket-Gopher

The pocket-gopher lives and burrows in the fields. It is a mole-like animal but much larger than the common mole. Its legs are short and its front feet strong, with long nails for digging. The fur is soft and silky and dark brown in color. Where the gopher is there may be found the weasel, his greatest enemy. It should be an even fight between them, for they are equally matched in ill-temper and savageness, and are near of a size though the gopher is the heavier.

Antelope

On the great plains of the west you may still see the beautiful and gentle antelope, though that animal is fast disappearing, while the thieving coyote thrives and multiplies in the same region.

Coyote, Prairie-Wolf

The coyote, or prairie-wolf, is about the size of a large dog and resembles one. Its color is gray, made by a mixture of black and white hairs. It is a cowardly animal and not dangerous, but its contemptible character could not prevent a wave of compassion that came over me when I saw one poor creature caged in a wooden box and holding up the bloody stump where its fore foot had been torn off by the cruel and barbarous steel trap.

Spermophile

In the Middle West, especially in Indiana, the little spermophile, sometimes called the ground-squirrel, is common and not afraid to venture into the outskirts of a village. One variety wears spotted brown and yellow stripes down its back, another is gray, but all are about the size of a gray squirrel. On the western prairies are the comical little prairie-dogs. You can see them sitting up on their haunches watching the train as it carries you over the great plains.

Antelopes of the western plains.

Bobolink

The birds of the open are varied and many. Most of the forest birds are seen occasionally in the fields, but some birds make their homes in the open. You will find the bobolink's nest in a hay-field or down among the red clover. The bobolink of the north is a sweet singer and is pretty in his black and white feathers with a touch of yellow at the back of his head. There are creamy-yellow feathers down his back, too, but they are not noticeable. When he goes south the male loses his pretty coat and, clad like his mate in yellowish-brown, is known as the rice-bird because he feeds on the rice crops. Here he is killed because he is considered a robber, and eaten because he is considered a delicacy.

Meadow-Lark

Early spring trailing through the meadows will bring you the cheery song of the meadow-lark: "Spring-o-the-year!" Stalk him carefully and you will find a large brown bird with yellow breast and a black crescent on his throat. The meadow-lark is about the size of a quail. He stands erect when he sings, and he has a rather long beak. The nest can be found, if you look for it, but is generally out of sight under a loosened clod of earth or tuft of grass.

Red-Winged Blackbird

The red-winged blackbird with his sweet call of "O-ka-lie," or "Ouchee-la-ree-e!" you will also find on the meadows and marshes. He builds his nest among the reeds and is one of the first of our spring birds in the north.

Song Sparrow

The little song sparrow loves the open and the hot summer sunshine. Trailing along a country road at midday, when most of the other birds are still, you will find the song sparrow sitting on a rail fence singing with undiminished enthusiasm.

To make friends with the birds provide food and water for them, then sit down and wait quietly until they appear. Let them become accustomed to seeing you sitting still every day for a while, then begin slow, careful movements, gradually becoming more natural, and in time the birds will allow you to walk among them as you please, if you are careful never to frighten them. You can do this in camp; you can do it at home if you are not living in a city. The trustful friendship of animals and birds opens a new path of happiness and one that all girls should be able, in some measure, to enjoy.

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