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OUR BIRDS OF PREY.
By JOHN T. FORT.
Written for The Constitution, Jr.
I have been much in the woods and fields
of Georgia.
Being’ inclined to observe the habits of
birds and animals, I trust that my observa
tions may be interesting to others who
hove not enjoyed such opportunities.
My intention is to write entirely of ob
servations made by myself that have 7 iot
heretofore been written of by others, "so
far as. I am aware” of the habits of our
birds of prey.
This will include only birds of prey that
inhabit the state of Georgia, and is con
fined to observations personal or so closely
connected therewith as to make me assured
of the truth of that which I write.
The first and foremost bird of this series
is the eagle. We have but two varieties
in this state —the golden and white-headed
or bald eagie. The first is a mountain
bird, very rare, and my observation of it
has been very limited. The bald eagle is
often seen especially near the sea coast.
Its rapacity and robbery of the fish hawk
of its prey is well known, but that it will
also follow other hawks and rob them of
birds they have caught I have also ob
served. This character, added to its vul
ture-like habits, was the cause of the earn
est protest of Benjamin Franklin against
it being placed upon our national coat of
arms.
This wise and practical man proposed to
substitute our native American bird—the
turkey, but his views w’ere not concurred
in by his liberty-loving colleagues. It
would probably have been well had the
golden eagle of the mountains been placed
upon our national ensign, as it is a bird of
better carriage and character.
The next strongest diurnal bird of prey
that we have is the red-tail hawk. This
hawk, when in full vigor, will attack and
kill a fox squirrel. I have often wondered
why it was that an animal with a skin so
tough as a squirrel did not often severely
bite the hawks and disable them. I
have observed some amusing instances of
the fear of the gray Carolina squirrel of
this hawk and for a long time supposed dial
when caught by the hawk he w’as so paral
yzed as to be in the situation, described by
Dr. Livingstone as his condition when pros
trate and wounded with a lion’s paw upon
him. A freedom from pain and utter sur
render. But a short time - since I captured
a squirrel from a red-tailed hawk. Soon
after it was killed and I found that the
hawk had caught the squirrel by the head
and that he first destroyed life by attack
ing this portion of the body, thus avoiding
the sharp teeth of an animal capable of
successfully resisting a .small dog.
On one occasion I obtained the same day
two hawks, the one a marsh hawk or har
the other a red tail, each with a broken
wing. They were placed together in a
T-T an outhouse, and ver_> soon the
red tail killed and ate the harrier.
The gos hawk, a bird whose mode of life
ig different from the red tail, while not as
larce, is a more courageous bird, and is
not at all afraid of the led tail. On one
occasion I saw a gos hawk with a pigeon
in his talons attacked by a red tail, but
he refused to abandon his prey, and suc
cessfully resisted all attacks. 1 once saw
a flock of wild turkeys, all full grown birds,
huddled together in great consternation by
the appearance of a gos hawk on a stake
in the field very near them. 1 felt assured
that they expected an attack and had not
my enthusiasm as a hunter overcome my
zeal as a naturalist. 1 might have witnessed
the encounter. The amount of food re
quired and consumed daily by this type of
swift-flying, courageous hawks from the
small sharp shin to the gos hawk, is enor
mous. I once had a cage of three ol
them taken from the nest and -hey con
sumed and seemed to require at least their
weight in flesh each day. On neglecting
to feed them beyond the usual time one of
them w’as killed and eaten by the others.
They seemed to be untamable. Nature
has provided them with flight and muscular
power superior to other birds and they de
stroy all kinds of the feathered tribe that
come before them. lam satisfied that this
character of hawks often kill birds that they
are unable to lift in their talons.
On one occasion I. saw a pigeon hawk
grasp a Mallard duck as it was descending
above the trees of the forest and fall with
it to the water, • where the duck escaped.
The hawk was utterly incapable of bear
ing the duck in its talons. The restlessness
of this variety of hawk is very marked as
compared with the watchful patience of
the slow flying swoopers, from the red tail
to the sparrow hawk. I have noticed the
power of vision of this last class ot hawks
and conceive it to be very remarkable. On
one occasion a large grasshopper lit near
me and 1 observed a sparrow hawk more
than a hundred yards distant see and se
cure it.
The power of ha wks to note by the flight
of birds whether they are wounded or
not I have often noted.
1 have seen the sparrow’ hawk attack a
wounded i lackbird that it would not hav®
attempted to master had it not been
wounded. I have known the small strike
io attack and kill a wounded dove. 1 have
also seen the red tail hawk fly to obtain
a wounded dove. Neither of these birds of
prey would attack a dove unless the dove
was wounded for the reason that they are
not capable by flight of securing them.
The smallest of our birds of prey, the
strike, or as it is often called, logger-head
butcher bird, etc., I have seen perfom the
most daring acts. I noticed a bird of this
kind flying backward and forward close to
the earth for quite a period of time. On
going to the spot I found that the strike
had attacked and killed a snake near three
feet long. The head of the snake was
bitten into an indistinguishable mass by
the strike, although it still showed muscu
lar life. On leaving it I saw’ the strike re
turn and commence devouring it.
I once saw a large red-shoul
dered hawk fluttering on the ground
and on going to it found
that it was enveloped in the folds of an
ordinary black snake. It was evidently
a case where the thawk had attempted to
catch the snake and had caught a Tartar.
All our nocturnal birds of prey are known
ynder the appellation of owls. The com-
THE ATLANTA CONSTITUTION, JR.
prise a large variety, from the great Vir
ginia horned owl to the little Acadian owl,
no larger than an ordinary red bird. The
great horned owl is stronger than any hawk
we have, as its talons and beak and mus
cular development indicate. I have known
one of these owls to attack a large house
cat about dusk and carry the cat in his tal
one over tihe top of ball trees out of sight.
The next morning “Tom” returned, walking
sideways, having suffered severely from the
talons of the owl. No account was given of
the contest when the owl lit to devour the
cat.
This owl, I am satisfied, has a powen of
vision to see during the day in full sun
light superior to that of any other owl with
which lam acquainted. It does not seek
hollow trees during the day, as do most
owls; is exceedingly shy, and I have had it
to fly during midday when pointing a rifle
toward it at a distance of two hundred
yards or more.
I attribute this to the peculiar flashing
yellow’ color of its eye. somewhat similar to
some of our hawks, thus enabling it to see
more distinctly than other owls.
The barred ow’l that inhabits our gloom
iest swamps, sees very poorly in the glare
of the sun and appears therefore very stu
pid. It has a blue eye, similar in color to
some nocturnal quadrupeds, and is, no
doubt, enabled to make up this deficiency
In the deep gloom of a swamp at night.
Owls perfectly understand that they can
see better at night than a man, and when
the night is dark fearlessly remain near
him. I have had the horned owl to remain
very near me in the dark while gathering
up ducks shot at a roost, and seemingly ex
postulate when I found one that he had
probably reserved for himself. Had it been
daylight the owl thus situated would not
have allowed an approach nearer than a
hundred yards.
I have noticed on one occasion the power
of the little Acadian owl as a ventriloquist
spoken of and discovered by the great or
nithologist, Audubon. I am at a loss to
know the use of tihiiis power. But we may
be ast-ured that this, as well as all the pow
ers given to all birds, is toward an end
maintaining their existence.
The observation of the formation of birds
for the life they lead fixes in the mind a
certainty of a great power that has so
woi.derlally fashioned them.
A MORTAL DI EL.
An Oflieer’s Adventure in India.
From Harper’s Young People.
One sultry afternoon I was lying in my
hammock in the veranda eating fruit and
biscuits—for it was too hot to do anything
else—when, all at once, I saw a little sharp
nosed, bright-eyed creature covered with
smooth hair, like a sort of a cross between
a bandicoot rat and a squirrel, come creep
ing along the floor.
I threw it a bit of banana and at first
it seemed startled and made as if it would
run away, but presently it turned back
again and snapped up the fruit, which it
seemed to approve of highly. I gave it
another bit and then a piece of biscuit,
and by degrees it began to get more famil
iar and appeared quite inclined to make
friends. But just then one of my men
came running across the courtyard and the
sound of his footsteps scared it away.
The next day, however, it came back
again, and by this time it seemed to have
quite got over its shyness and took readily
enough whatever I gave it. After we had
been on visiting terms for two or three
days, “Tommy,” as I had named my four
footed chum, got to be so friendly that
he would climb upon my hammock or chair
and let me stroke him and hold him in my
hand, just as if he’d been a kitten. 1 got
to be quite fond of him at last.
Just about that time I managed some
how or other to catch a low 7 fever, which,
though it wasn't what you’d call dangerous,
left me as weak as water. In fact, for
three or four days I couldn’t even raise
myself in bed without help.
Well, one day—it'll be long enough be
fore I forget it—l had sent away the na
tive boy who used to sit beside me. telling
him I was going to have a nap. It was the
very hottest time of the day and every
one was either smoking, lounging or fast
asleep, and It wasn't long before I fell
asleep too.
How long I slept I have no idea, but when
1 awoke it was still so hot and I was so
drowsy, that I was going to doze off again,
when 1 caught sight of something that
woke me up in good earnest.
Creeping into the room from the veranda,
coil after coil, was a huge “hooded cobra,”
the deadliest snake in all India, more than
seven feet long and as thick as a man’s
arm. It was evidently meaning to attack
me; and there I lay, too weak to lift my
hand, all alone, and with no one anywhere
within hearing".
For a moment I was fairly dumb with hor
ror; and then, although i knew it was no
use, 1 instinctively called for help; but my
voice was so weak that it couldn't even
have been heard in the next room.
On came the snake, rearing up its horrid
spotted head angrily, and blowing out its
hood, as it does when it means mischief.
It had already got to the foot of the bed,
and was just preparing to crawl up, when
1 heard a skirr of tiny feet across the floor,
and 1 saw my squirrel-rat friend, little
Tommy.
The brave little fellow never hesitated for
a moment, but went right at the cobra like
a tiger, and gave it a bite that drew blood
like the cut of a knife.
For a moment the snake drew’ back, and
a quiver went all through it. which showed
that it was hard hit; but it pulled itself
together at once, threw back its head vi
ciously ctfid struck at poor Tommy with all
its force. But Tommy dodged the stroke
cleverly, and fastening on the cobra tooth
and nail, gave him a second bite worse than
the first, wounding him so severely that
he w 7 as evidently weakened, and began to
show signs of giving away.
From the bed where I lay I could see the
whole battle quite plainly; and you may
think how trying it was for me to have
to lie there helpless while a duel was being
fought out upon which my life depended.
But it didn’t take me long to find out how
the fight was going to end, for the cobra
had the worst of it from the very begin
ning. Do what he might, let him try as hard
as he pleased to strike his enemy or to
coil around him, the snatfe might as well
have tried to hurt a shadow. Brave little
Tommy escaped him every time, and repaid
each new attack w’ith a fresh bite, making
old scaly-back twist and wriggle like a
speared eel.
At last the cobra, in its writhing and
flopping about, knocked over a small table
with a lot of glasses on it, which came
down with a crash that might have woke
up a country policeman on duty. The next
moment there was a shout and a scurry
outside, and my chum, Harry Templeton,
came bursting headlong into the room, just
as the valiant Tommy got hold of the
snake by the head and fairly bit its head
off.
“Hollo!” cried Harry; “what on earth
has been going on here? Why, my poor
old fellow! to think of your being left to
face that horrid brute all alone, and you
not able to stir, too! If I’d only known I
would have been in to help you like a shot.
Well, thank God! it’s all right now. But
where on earth did you pick up that mon
goose?”
“What sort of goose do you call him?”
asked I, in surprise. “I never knew before
that a goose had four feet!”
“Pooh!” said Harry; “you’re not going to
pretend that you don’t know yet what a
mongoose is! Why, man, they're the great
est serpent killers alive; and if it hadn't
been for that one you’d have been as dead
as a door nail by this time. I only wish
we had a dozen more of ’em here in the
cantonment to clear off these confounded
snakes!”
Thus it was that T found out that my
little friend Tommy was a specimen of the
snake-killing mongoose of India, and that
my friendship with him had actually saved
my life. You may be sure that I made a
greater pet of him than ever after that.
His Chum.
From The Detroit Free Press.
A newsboy sat on the curbstone crying,
when a pedestrian halted and laid his hand
on the youngster’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong, sonny?”
“I ain’t your sonny.”
“Well, what’s wrong, my boy?”
“Ain’t your boy, either.”
“Lost 5 cents in the gutter?”
“Naw 7 , ain’t—oh, oh. oh! Me chum's
dead.”
“Oh! that’s another thing, how did he
happen to die?”
“Runned over.”
“So? Was there an inquest?”
“Inques’ nothin’. He jest hollered once’t
and rolled over dead. And I wish I was
dead, too, along of him.”
“Cheer up! You can find another chum.”
“Yer wouldn’t talk that way if you’d
knowed Dick. He was the best friend I
ever had. There warn’t nothing Dick
wouldn’t a done fer me. An’ now he’s
d-d-dead an’ buried. I’m a wishin’ I was,
too.”
“Look here,” said the man, “go and sell
your papers and take some poor little rag
ged boy and be a chum to him. It’ll help
you and do him good.”
“Pshaw 7 , mister, where's there a boy
wot’d go around nights with me and be
cold and hungry and outen doors and
sleep on the ground like Dick? An’ he
wouldn’t tech a bite till I’d had enuff. He
were a Christian, Dick were.”
“Then you can feel that he’s all right if
he was such a faithful friend and good
boy.”
“Boy? Dick a boy? Lord! Dick warn’t
only a ragged, good-for-nothing human
boy, mister—Dick were a dog.”
Ah Little Helen Heard It.
From The Indianapolis Sentinel.
Helen's older brother goes to school and
comes home almost every day with a differ
ent anecdote about George Washington,
which he tells to the family. The latest
one was to the effect that when George
w 7 as out surveying he pitched a tent and
w 7 ent to sleep covered by his bearskin.
The other day a tramp called at the house
and asked for a night’s lodging. Scarcely
had the door closed w’hen Helen electrified
her mother by saying:
“A night’s lodging? Huh! Why can’t he
sleep in his bear skin like George Wash
ington?”
A Story of Charles Dickens.
From The Argonaut.
Charles Dickens once received an invita
tion to a “Walter Scott” party, each guest
being expected to appear in the character
of one or the other of Scott’s heroes. On
the eventful night, how-ever, Dickens ap
peared in simple evening dress. The host
asked him which of Scott’s characters he
represented. “Why, sir,” replied Dickens,
"I am a character you will find in every
one of Scott’s novels. I am the ‘gentle
reader.’ ”
The Tomb of Washington.
Thousands of us have visited the tomb of
Washington at Mount Vernon. It is a spot
dear to the heart of every true American,
but nothing about it is more touching than
to heai- the bell of some passing steamer
tolling as it passes, and to be told that
every steamer which plows the waters of
the 'Potomac, when passing the tomb of
Washington, tolls a requiem to his mem
ory.
Pretty Near Right.
Johnny—My story book says the wild hog
is one of the most pugnacious animals in
the world.
Tommy—l don’t care what your book
says. The royal bengal tagger is more'n
ten times pugnostier!
Where’s the Dictionary?
“Mister,” said the small boy to the gro
cer. “mother told me to ask you if they’s
any such thing as sugar trust?” “Why of
course there is.” “W-ell, mother wants
to get trusted for two pounds.”
Did Corbett Do It?
Teacher—l have said that a unicorn is an
animal with one horn. Can you give me an
example?
Small Girl—Yes’m; it’s got only one horn.
The other one was knocked off.
NV hut They Were for.
Mamma—What do those holes in your new
shoes mean?
Rupert—l suppose, mamma, they must be
meant to let th_e_squeaks out.
Pussy Plays the Piano.
The romantic suburb of Wissahickon,
near Philadelphia, boasts of a genuine
musical prodigy. It is a Maltese cat, which
is owned by William Johnson and of which
the neighbors are justly proud. Since its
early youth the cat has been fond of music
and could never be driven from the parlor
when any one was playing on the piano.
It first began to attract attention by beat
ing perfect time with its paws. Then it
learned gradually to play bass parts in sim
ple tunes as an accompaniment to one ot
the children. Now pussy is able to play
the old familiar tujie “America” without
missing a note. , u .
No. 116—Hidden Trees.
Today I must be as busy as a bee, churn
ing, washing, and if I really feel like it the
meat for pies ought to be minced. A really
good mince pie should be made several days
before it is eaten." I will have to keep them
locked up, or Tom will eat them before
Thanksgiving. I must give them a plenty
of piemento, a kind of spice that every one
likes. Those that Ethel made were a great
success. Pru certified to that by eating
two large pieces, and because Mr. Tabir
chanced to tell of it Pru was very angry
and no doubt will owe Mr. T£uflr a grudge
for many a day. They say popcorn is cheap
in Eaton store. We shall want to pop large
quantities of It for the children. We will
let Tom do the popping as penance for run
ning away w’hen we needed his help before.
No. IIS—A Little Boy's S pee ell.
Fill the blanks with words that rhyme
properly, and you wall have a nice little
speech for a little boy:
They thought 1 couldn’t make a ,
I’m such a little !
I’ll show them whether I can
A thing or two, or .
Don’t be afraid to fight the
Or stand up for the ,
Ard when you’ve nothing else to
Be sure you say “ .”
No. 121—Historical Characters.
1. The promoter of “Clinton’s Big Ditch.”
2. He who introduced “the new’ root” and
“the new weed” into Europe.
3. He who sank the first successful oil
well.
4. “The Little Giant.”
5. The outcome of whose famous western
journey secured Oregon to us.
6. The Virginia general whose motto was,
“Do your duty, and leave the rest to Provi
dence.”
Key to the Puzzle.
No. 107—Blank rhymes:
There is a stretch of silver sky.
That nightly in the west doth lie
Take some untroubled, radiant sea,
Upon whose bosom constantly
The tinted cloud waves rise and fall,
Obedient to the west wind’s calf.
Across this ocean, sunset lit,
A tiny craft doth lightly flit,
Unstaid by rock or reef or bar,
And piloted by one pale star
It slips the rosy ripples through.
Light freighted with a fairy crew.
No. 108.—The Etruscan Nine:
“Lars Porsena of Clusium,
By the nine gods he swore.”
—Macaulay’s "Lays of Ancient Rome.’
The gods of the Etruscans were Juno,
Minerva, Tinia, Vulcan, Mars. Summanus
and Vedius. Saturn and Hercules are added
by some writers to make up the number.
No. 100.—Crossword Enigma: Springtime.
No. 110.—Rhomboids:
MOTOR EIDER
S A V F R SAVES
PANIC DECAY
LEGAL R U L E S
WAGON RESIN
No. 112.—Double Acrostic: Primals, Emer
son: finals. Concord. Crosswords: 1. Ethic,
2 Motto, 3 Eaten, 4 Relic, 5 Sambo, 6 Otter,
7 Nomad.
No. 113.—Transposition: Attila.
No. 114. —Anagrams: 1. Horse; 2, Seal: 3,
Deer; 4, Zebra: 5, Dormouse; 6, Armadillo;
7, Hare; 8, Martin; 9, Tortoise; 10, Polecat;
11, Panther; 12, Leopard; 13, Weasel; 14,
Stoat: 15, Sable; 16, Wolf; 17, Ichneumon;
18, Elephant; 19, Camelopard; 20, Antelope.
Willy's Garden.
Tn April, month of sun and shower,
When the -willow-tassels are green and
long:
When snowdrifts, into snowdrops flower,
And the violets cluster, a purple throng;
The children, Bertie and Marjorie,
Make up together their garden-bed,
To blossom later, a blazonry
Os yellow and blue and red.
But little Willy, the four-year-old.
Whose earliest gardening came this year,
Liked not the seeds, that slipped and rolled,
And looked so wTinkled and brown and
sere.
He planted a row of buttons bright,
A small tin horse, and a woolly sheep,
Digging and delving with all his might
In the soft mold’s mossy heap!
When April melted into May,
And May could feel the breath of June;
When all the earth was a garden gray,
And all the air a blending tune;
Bertie and Marjorie saw their flowers
Grow and blow in the sun and dew,
Gathering out of the long, hot hours
Their yellow and red and blue.
Poor little Willy, the four-year-old!
Blossomless ever his garden-plot!
Never he grasped in his eager hold
Lily or pink or forget-me-not!
Day after day, the prize to win.
He hurried forth on his errand vain,
Day after day came creeping- in.
While the children laughed again.
But one who watched the little face,
With its wistful look of sad surprise,
Ever and ever grieved to trace
The growing gloom in the baby eyes.
She slipped out of doors, one flushing dawn,
Before the children were yet awake,
And stole across by the dewy lawn,
For little Willy’s sake.
Ah! what a face of glorious pride
Replaced, that morning, the daily doubt!
“My Powers are all come up!” he cried,
As he held in his arms his treasures out;
Rows of buttons of every hue;
A span of horses painted red;
A snow-white sheep, and a lampkin blue—
All found in the garden-bed!
Brightly blossoms your border-pot,
Wise little Bertie and Marjorie!
And lily and pink and forget-me-not
Throng with the bee and the butterfly!
But Willy’s garden was fairy ground,
Where fairy breezes the fruitage fanned.
And the treasures gathered within its bound
Grew straight out of Wonderland!
—Kate Putnam Osgood, in Wide Awake.
Jimmie’s Philosophy.
Jimmie—lsn’t this a lovely day?
Mamma —Yes, indeed, Jimmie.
Jimmie—l tell you, mamma, if it keeps on
this way it will soon be vacation.
A Naughty Boy.
Caller (looking at picture)—Does your
mamma paint?
Little Boy—Yes; but she’s through with
that an’ is puttin’ on the powder now.
She’ll be down in a minute.
3