Read Ebook: Birds and Nature Vol. 08 No. 4 November 1900 Illustrated by Color Photography by Various

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Many mountain streams whose sources are at present in no way connected may have been so at no very remote period. All of our streams which have their sources within the glaciated area were no doubt connected as the ice receded. The drainage of Lake Champlain and the lakes in central New York was southward at the close of the glacial epoch. It is said that in times of high water one may pass in a skiff from the head waters of the Mississippi to the Red River of the North. With such facts before us we can easily understand why the fishes of two rivers whose sources are near each other should be most nearly alike nearest the divide. If the two rivers were formed about the same time, as no doubt were the James and the Ohio, they would naturally have several species in common. In other words, the two fish faunas will resemble each other throughout their whole extent. In the case of the Missouri and the Columbia, the former is much the older stream, and while their sources have fishes common to both streams, in the lower parts of the rivers the fish faunas are entirely different. The upper Missouri river and its tributaries are for the most part inhabited by Rocky Mountain fishes, practically the same fauna as we find in the Columbia, but few species characteristic of the Mississippi valley have been able to even cross the great plains and none have ever passed the Rocky Mountain divide.

Dr. Jordan tells us that the trout of the Pacific coast came to America from Asia, and gradually spread eastward and southward until now it is found in all the streams of the Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, the Cascades and the Coast range. It is but a short distance from Kamchatka to Alaska, and this distance is traveled by trout to this day; once over, a fish able to spend much of its time in salt water could easily colonize all our coast streams. Whether or not all of our Pacific trout are descendants of one species, the cut-throat trout, is more or less uncertain, though it is quite certain that all have descended from not more than two or three species. In many places they have been able to pass from the head waters of one river to that of another, just as they now pass from the head waters of the Columbia to the Missouri by the way of Two Ocean Pass. The ancient lakes, Lahontan and Bonneville, no doubt assisted them in their migrations. Since these have disappeared each colony has had to remain more or less isolated. In time they have become somewhat changed, to better adapt themselves to their new environment. These changes have developed certain peculiar characters, by means of which we can distinguish one kind of trout from another, just as the farmer distinguishes his Berkshire from his Poland China. Spread, as the trout are, over such a large area, in such an immense variety of streams and lakes, and with a vertical range of over one thousand feet, we would certainly expect as large a number of species and varieties of trout to be developed as we find at present in the streams of our west coast.

Fishes are found in the deepest parts of the ocean. Some of these are peculiar to the deep waters, none of the shore fishes resembling them. On the other hand, many deep sea fishes belong to families well represented in the shallow water. The flounders are found in water at all depths, and the same is true of the bat fishes, rock fishes and other shore fishes. It is easy to understand how these fishes have found their way to the deep water. It was either to escape their enemies or to extend their range for some reason; as Mr. Garman puts it, "They have slid down," as it were to the bottom of the ocean.

In general, animals migrating will always move along lines of least resistance. Some deep-sea fishes have a considerable vertical range. It is thought that some move into shallower water to deposit their eggs or place their young in warmer water, and where the peculiar kind of food they need early in life is the most abundant. To study deep sea fishes is difficult, and so little has been done that we not only know them imperfectly but also know very little concerning their life histories.

In February, March and April of 1891 the United States Fish Commission steamer Albatross explored a portion of the region between the coasts of Mexico and Central America and the Galapagos Archipelago. Besides obtaining a large number of shore fishes, about nine hundred specimens of fishes were secured, ranging from a depth of one hundred to twenty-two hundred and twenty-three fathoms. This collection was carefully studied by Professor Garman, of Harvard. He found the collection to contain one hundred and eighty species, eighty-five per cent. of which were new to science. The bottoms of the oceans are far from level, and each deep basin has its own peculiar fauna. The shallower parts of the sea prevent migration of the deep water forms and no doubt living as they do in eternal darkness and in a temperature near the freezing point, there is little to induce them to much activity. The fact that they are easily captured in nets of comparatively small size would indicate that they move about slowly.

Dr. Jenkins, who has lately studied the fishes of the Sandwich Islands, informs me that less than five per cent. are found on our American coast, while a large per cent. is found all the way to the Red sea. In other words, the fishes of the Sandwich Islands are East Indian rather than American. This is no doubt caused from the fact that the deep water between the islands of the American coast forms a barrier which has always prevented the two fish faunas from mingling with each other. Between Africa and the Sandwich Islands this has not been the case. A recent study of the fishes of the Galapagos Archipelago shows its fauna to be American, though in what respect its fishes differ from those of our west coast they resemble all the more the fishes of the Sandwich Islands. Two fish faunas will usually differ from each other if separated by an impassable barrier; especially is this true if the barrier be older than the two faunas.

Any barrier which prevents or hinders fishes in their movements from one body of water to another will separate two more or less well-marked fish faunas. These barriers may be mountains, or shallow water, as in the case of deep sea fishes; deep water, as in case of shore fishes; muddy or alkaline water, or water of different temperature. Temperature no doubt has far more influence in governing the movement of fishes than is generally believed. It plays an important part in guiding salmon up stream to their spawning beds. It explains why they reach the head waters of some streams and spawn earlier than in similar streams not far distant, but of different temperature. If you would know to what extent fishes of one region differ from those of another, study well the barriers between the two regions, learn to what extent and how long they have existed, consider the age geologically of the two regions, and how fishes may have migrated to one or the other, and in a general way you will have the key to the situation, which a careful study of the fishes is quite sure to verify.

Seth E. Meek.

THE LOUISIANA TANAGER.

The family of Tanagers is remarkable for the number of species, the gaudy coloring of many and the interesting fact that they are confined to the Americas and the adjacent islands. Dr. Ridgway says, "that the five families of Neotropical birds, which are represented by the greatest number of species, are absolutely peculiar to America, these families being the Tanagers, Tyrant Flycatchers, Wood-hewers, Ant Thrushes and Humming-birds. None of these families have even true representatives in any part of the Old World."

The family of Tanagers includes approximately three hundred and eighty species, of which not more than ten per cent. have a range extending as far north as Southern Mexico, and only four, or at the most five, species are known to the United States. Of these only two, the Scarlet Tanager and the Summer Red-bird, are generally known as far north as Canada.

The Tanagers make their home in the trees, and, being of a retiring disposition, are more numerous within the bounds of the forest. During the breeding season they retire still further into the interior. No wonder that they are more numerous in tropical regions, where the luxuriant foliage of the forests furnishes them with a safe retreat, and where there is an abundance of food suited to their taste. This tendency to avoid the society of man has made the study of their habits much more difficult, and but little has been recorded except that which pertains to the more northern forms.

The food is chiefly insects, especially in the larval form, and berries. To some extent they also feed upon the buds of flowers. Mr. Chapman tells us that "the tropical species are of a roving disposition, and wander through the forests in search of certain trees bearing ripe fruit, near which they may always be found in numbers." Their nests are shallow and the eggs, usually three to five in number, are greenish-blue in color, speckled with brown and purple.

The Louisiana Tanager is a Western species, ranging from British Columbia on the north to Guatemala on the south, and from the Missouri river to the Pacific coast. Our illustration well represents the male. The female, like its sister tanagers, is plainly colored, but still beautiful. It is olive green, with the underside yellowish. The feathers of the wings and tail are brown, edged with olive. It resembles the female Scarlet Tanager. The young are at first like the female. Then appears the black of the back, mixed with some olive and a slight tinge of red on the head.

It would seem that its name is a misnomer, as it is not found in the State of Louisiana.

CHATTER OF A CHAT.

I'm the "Chat." You've heard me if you haven't seen me. But there isn't a better lookin' bird in our wood, either. My olive-green coat is a beauty. My yellow satin vest would dazzle your eyes. And my white china spectacles are heirlooms in our family. My wife dresses just as handsome as I do. I'm a prey to high spirits. Some folk call me a "wag." Don't know what that is, but I don't see the use in bein' doleful. Why, when I get back from Mexico, I feel obliged to holler. So I just holler. The way old Mother Earth rigs up in the Spring makes me full of life. I get down and cool my legs in the deep grass. It brings my appetite back a-whizzin'. My! If I don't eat a thousand bugs a day. "Juicy" don't describe 'em. Then I climb a tree-top and holler. If I eat a thousand bugs seems like I have to give two thousand hollers. I holler straight through a moonlight night. You see, I hate to let old Whippoorwill think he's the only bird alive. Mornin' after folks stop talkin' 'bout how bad they slept and say, "What's that?" somebody says, "That's the Chat." Then they always laugh. And I laugh, too--a very Falstaffian laugh, as if I'se shakin' great fat sides out of their accordion plaits. Then I give a beautiful whistle. And they say, "Now, what's that?" The fellow I know says, "That's the Chat." Then I give a surprised whistle, just as if you stepped on a tack or took a drink of red-hot coffee. And they say, "And what's that?" And the wise man says, "That's the Chat again." Well, says the other fellow, "I'll never know that bird." But the bad sleeper says, "Well, you would if he kept you awake all last night as he did me. He never knows when to stop." But even that fellow will never know when I've said my last word!

These rag folks are awful stupids, anyhow. I call 'em "blunderers." Do more harm than good wherever they're at. My wife knits our house among thorns just to plague 'em. They hate to get their rags torn. Then they'd better keep scarce of our door. If it ain't in blackberry jungles it's in catbrier tangles. I could yarn from sun-up to sundown 'bout how rag folks come blunderin' round interferin'. Barrin' o cat's, they've got the most meddlesome forefeet I ever saw. But it ain't often they find us. Cause why? We keep still. Our next-door neighbor's Dame Indigo. Can't a body go by she don't pop up scoldin' like a house afire. Then they blunder round till they find her nest-eggs, too! Lots of other feather-heads just like her! There's Topknot Cardnal makes such a fuss anybody'd know he's got something to hide. Sure enough, he's had such lots of kin behind the bars it makes him scary. But I'd show more pluck, anyhow.

Once this summer a blunderer smarter'n common came along by us. We had a nice place, too, in a dreadful blackberry tangle. A small sassafras threw a nice shadow over it when the sun got hot. Well, I shut up quick, I tell you. Was just tellin' Mrs. Chat a few things while she kep' an eye on our four eggs like. We kep' still as mice. But didn't that blunderin' rags march right up to our door and push and scratch till she saw what we had? Had a little rag blunderer with her. An' she held her up to look in, too. Every single feather we had stood on end! It was good riddance when they went along. Couldn't believe my specs when I saw they had left our eggs alone. Seven suns after, big rags came back. We're in a peck o' trouble. Our four bairns just out the shell. We both had to scratch round with all our toes to feed and keep 'em breathin'. Been rainin' for a solid week. Dame Chat said she just knew they'd get a chill and die. But the blunderin' party didn't stay long.

Well, sir, we hadn't got rid of that blunderer yet. The nex' time she brought another, bigger one, along. Both crowded up and looked in our door. You never saw such beauties as our bairns that day. Just gettin' so plump and featherin' right along. But it meant a sight o' work for us. They just sat and took in every mouthful we could rake and scrape. They kep' us busy. Well, when these blunderin' rags shook the house the bairns all up and spread their jaws wide open. Rags thought it was awful cute, but I'm thankful they didn't offer to feed 'em anything. Did bad enough, anyhow. Big one said, "Why don't you take their picture?" First rags said she couldn't. Second rags said she'd try, anyhow. With that, first rags began to snap off our best defenses--without so much as by your leave. They scratched her good, anyhow; for she said so. Well, she put some kind of square black gun right up to our door. Dame Chat went into hysterics and those little Chats just boiled over like a teakettle and went out the nest in four different directions! The two blunderers went off in a hurry, both talkin' at once and one suckin' her paw. Thankful to say ain't ever seen 'em since. But Dame Chat's a nervous wreck from the fright they gave her; and I'm worked to skin and bone takin' care of the little Chats. I just wish all the town's fenced in so's blunderers couldn't get loose to meddle round in their bunglin', elephant, rhinoceros way!

Elizabeth Nunemacher.

He comes--he comes--the Frost Spirit comes! You may trace his footsteps now On the naked woods and the blasted fields, and the brown hill's withered brow.

He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees where their pleasant green came forth, And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, have shaken them down to earth. --John Greenleaf Whittier.

THE LUNA AND POLYPHEMUS MOTHS.

The two silk-worm moths which we figure this month both possess a point of excellence far in advance of any other of our native silk-worm moths; Luna on account of its graceful form and delicate colors, and Polyphemus for the silk of its cocoons.

It seems that most persons who speak of the Luna moth feel called upon to give a more or less poetic description of it. This, I hope, has been rendered unnecessary by the colored plate, so that it will suffice simply to mention that the beautiful shade of green is of very rare occurrence among our larger moths, and that no other has the long, graceful "tails" on the hind wings, a characteristic which adds greatly to the beauty of this insect.

This moth does not seem to be very abundant anywhere, but when once seen will long be remembered on account of its great beauty. The green and yellow colors are evidently very closely related, because either one may, to a greater or less degree, replace the other, so that some of the moths have quite a strong, yellowish tinge. One of our common swallow-tail butterflies possesses a very similar green color in its wings, but does not seem to show this tendency to replace the green by yellow. On the wings are four eyespots which are also found in Polyphemus. These are remarkable in that they are transparent in the center. This clear area in Luna is quite small, while in Polyphemus it is about as large as the entire eye spot of Luna. The legs are brown and colored like the front edge of the fore wings. The hairs on the body and at the base of the wing are very long and are white or yellow. The wing expanse ranges from three and three-fourths to five and one-half inches.

During April or May the mother moth lays her dark-brown or chocolate-colored eggs upon hickory, walnut, beech, oak, and a few others of our forest trees. The limited number of food plants is doubtless one reason for the rarity of the moths, as compared with such a common and almost omnivorous larva as Cecropia. A single moth may lay about one hundred eggs, which are smaller than those of Polyphemus. These hatch in about ten or fifteen days, the larva making its escape by eating a circular hole in the shell. Occasionally a young larva may be seen crawling about for a short time, carrying upon its head or tail the empty shell.

The adult larva is about three inches long, of a delicate pale green, a color very difficult to preserve in the dead larva. Those on the plate have lost this delicate green and have become yellow, but show the form perfectly. This larva is very much like that of Polyphemus, but may be distinguished from it by possessing a longitudinal pale yellow lateral line, which is not found in Polyphemus. Since the cocoon is quite thin and contains but little silk, it is considered of but little value. This cocoon is spun among two or three weaves, and is about two inches long. Some authors claim that the cocoon falls to the ground with the autumnal falling of the leaves; others that it transforms on the ground among the fallen leaves. The cocoon is quite similar to that of Polyphemus, but not so firmly attached when fixed to a stem. The moths emerge in April and May, there being only a single brood in the north, while there are two in the south.

The color of the cocoon seems to be influenced in some way by the kind of food eaten by the larva. Cocoons made by larva which have been fed on hickory leaves have a darker color. In the true silk worm moth this same influence has been noticed; larvae fed upon the vine producing red cocoons, on lettuce emerald green cocoons, while those fed upon white nettle produce yellow, green or violet cocoons. It is necessary in order to procure these results, that the larvae be fed upon the mulberry till about twenty days before the formation of the cocoon.

Polyphemus. The life history of this native silk worm is by far the best known, because many years ago it was very carefully studied with the hope that it would prove an important silk insect. This hope unfortunately has not been realized.

The moths, as shown by the plate, are really beautiful; the large eye spots on the hind wings contributing much towards this effect. The transparent, window-like centers in the eye spot are also of quite rare occurrence among our moths. These transparent areas do not possess the very minute scales found on the other parts of the wing. Almost all of the wonderful variety of colors found in the wings of butterflies and moths are due either to coloring matter in these scales, or to the breaking up of the white light by minute lines on these scales, such as are seen in the play of colors on a soap-bubble. These fine lines on the scales are only on the upper side, and are about one-sixteen-thousandth of an inch apart.

The eggs of Polyphemus are very much flattened, about the size of those of Cecropia, and are deposited on leaves and twigs singly or in small groups. These hatch in about ten days and usually in the morning. The young larva often devours the shell which a few moments before afforded it shelter. This larva feeds upon oak, hickory, apple, maple, elm and a variety of other trees, and thus has a larger range of food plants than the Luna larva. The rate of growth is prodigious, as has been shown by Mr. Trovelot. When the larva hatches it weighs about one-twentieth of a grain; in ten days it weighs one-half of a grain, or ten times its original weight; in twenty days it weighs three grains, or sixty times its original weight; when a month old it weighs thirty-one grains, or six hundred and twenty times its original weight, and has consumed about ninety grains of food; after fifty days it weighs two hundred and seven grains, or over four thousand times the original weight. At fifty-six days the larva has eaten eighty-six thousand times its original weight in food! It is therefore not surprising that these larvae can often be easily detected upon trees by the large number of leaves which they have devoured.

To provide for this great change in size, the larva moults five times, but the time between these moults is not always the same; there is usually about ten days between the first four moults and about twenty between the fourth and fifth. The larva stops eating a day before the moult, spins a few threads upon the leaf to which it attaches its hind legs, and waits for the transformation, which usually takes place in the afternoon. The larva, when mature and ready to spin its cocoon, is about three inches long. It is sometimes influenced in its color by the food plant; the normal larva being of a golden green, although it has been known to show more yellow coloring when found on red maple.

A short time before beginning its cocoon the larva ceases to eat and selects a place for its cocoon. These cocoons are usually found upon the ground among the leaves, but are frequently attached to twigs. After about a half day's work the larva spreads over the inside of the cocoon a gummy, resinous substance, which binds together the threads. After four or five days more of almost continuous work, another coating is smeared over the inside, which renders the cocoon practically air-tight. The silk fibres become considerably finer as the cocoon nears completion and the supply of silk begins to run low. For this reason the inner layers of the cocoon are only about half as strong as the outer ones. The larva, as the supply of silk diminishes in the silk glands, becomes perceptibly reduced in size. It has been estimated that the larva, in attaching the continuous thread of its cocoon, makes two hundred and fifty-four thousand back and forward movements. The cocoons are very strong and dense, of a dirty white color and generally coated with a white powder, the female being the larger.

There is but a single brood in the north, while in the south there are two.

In order to see if the pupa needed air, Mr. Trovelot sealed up some cocoons over winter in shellac, but the moths emerged in due time after being in an air-tight space for nine months. He also delayed the emergence of the moth till twenty-one months after entering the cocoon by placing it upon ice.

The silk in the spinning glands before it is spun is a clear, transparent fluid. These glands seem to be of excessive size when compared with that of the larva, since, when fully expanded, they reach the great length of twenty-five inches, or about eight times the length of the full-grown larva. These glands are paired, one being found on each side of the body, are considerably folded and taper at each end. The ducts leading from the anterior end of the glands unite to form a single duct which opens below the mouth. The thread is double, being really composed of two different fibres, one from each gland, as may be shown by separating them. The silk in these glands is prepared and sold as silk "gut" to anglers. On account of its transparency when in water, it becomes invisible and thus aids in deluding the wary fish, who does not see any connection between the line and the baited hook. The "gut" is prepared as follows: Larvae which are ready to spin their cocoons are cut open and placed in strong vinegar for eighteen hours; the glands are then taken out, stretched and dried in the shade.

Six or eight days after beginning the cocoon, the larval skin is moulted and the real chrysalic or pupal stage begins. This stage normally lasts till the following spring or summer. A few days before the time of emergence a pair of glands which open into the mouth become very active and secrete an acidulated fluid which escapes and wets the fore end of the cocoon, causing the resinous material binding together the fibres to become soft. Even cocoons sealed up in shellac and starch have been dissolved by this fluid, and thus the moths have been able to escape. When the cocoon has become sufficiently soft, the moth pushes its way between the fibres, but in doing so often breaks some of the threads, thus making the silk of such cocoons useless for commercial purposes. The moth at the time of emergence, with its folded and crumpled wings, is quite a forlorn-looking object. These wilted wings soon begin to fill up with fluids from the body, which is very large at this time. In some cases, the fluid is driven into the wings with so much force that they swell up, and if such a wing is punctured, thus allowing some of the fluid to escape, the mature wing will be of a smaller size than one from which no fluid has been lost. It must be remembered that it is possible to inflate a butterfly or moth's wing, because the wings of insects are not composed of a single layer, but are sacs of two layers which are closely applied. It is thus possible to split the wing into upper and lower halves, but this can only be done at the time of emergence, when these two layers are not so firmly cemented together as they are in a few hours after emergence.

The enemies of Polyphemus are numerous. Birds prey upon the larvae, in addition to numerous parasitic insects which are very similar to those which destroy Cecropia. The cocoon itself is not a complete protection because rats and squirrels plunder them. We thus see that the life of even an insect is full of dangers, and that it is really a wonder that so many are able to become mature and reproduce.

Charles Christopher Adams.

CASTLES IN THE AIR.

In a little bend of the San Joaquin River, where the current, attempting to straighten its course, has left a bank a few feet wide, there is a small grove of tall cottonwood trees, perhaps a dozen in number, whose branches lean far over the stream and whose tops reach almost to the level of the bluff or rather the floor of the valley 250 feet above, for this swift river has, in the course of ages, cut thus deep a channel for itself.

The place is not easy of access, for the shore narrows above and below the bend to a few inches where one with difficulty keeps from crumbling away the sand with his feet and falling into the water, and the cliff is so nearly perpendicular that in many places it is inaccessible to a climber, being of soft sand whose different stratas are clearly defined where they have been sliced off by the cutting stream.

The valley above is a vast grainfield out almost to the edge of the bluff, and along the edge and face of the bluff, wherever root can cling or tendril hold, grow beautiful wild flowers in the early spring days--their last refuge between the cultivation and the deep sea, or rather, river.

In the tops of the cottonwoods live a number of baronial families in castles huge, gray and ugly, overlooking the sweep of the stream. They are the Great Blue Herons whose Latin title, , gives one some idea of their ancient lineage. They claim to be older than the storks of Egypt, and indeed, they look older as they stand humpbacked and sleepy on one leg by the side of their nests, the long fringe of light-speckled neck feathers underneath looking like a long gray beard sweeping over their recurved neck and breast. There is a wise look about them, too, for the black markings of the head sweep back over the eye and prolong into the appearance of a quill extending behind their ears.

Though they are almost four feet long and spread their wings to six feet and over, the herons' large blue-grey bodies are often almost indistinguishable from the bark of the cottonwood branches and the blue of the sky against which they are silhouetted so oddly. One's eyes open with astonishment when these sticks or excrescences of the tree-tops slowly unfold an enormous sweep of sail and, extending their long stilts behind them, flap off across the stream with a creaking sound like the pulleys of a vessel when the halliards are running through them. Standing or flapping they are not handsome birds and one who comes suddenly upon a large heron for the first time as he stands in the shallow water of the brookside, will be convulsed with laughter, for if there is an utterly clumsy and awkward form or motion in bird-life it belongs to this heron.

Their homes are big baskets of nests made of twigs as large as a man's finger, closely intermeshed. From year to year they use the same nest or build over it until it has two or three stories or more and is bigger than a bushel basket. There are probably two dozen nests in the dozen cottonwood trees, some of the larger trees having three or four or even six away up in their tops where the branches seem scarcely strong enough to bear such heavy burdens. From the top of the bluff one can look down into the nests and in early March see the big blue eggs, almost as large as hens' eggs, reposing like amethysts in their rough brown setting. Some authors state that not over three eggs are laid, but I have seen four about as often as three and, on one occasion, five in a nest.

There they dwell, this ancient race of high-born philosophers, stalking the shallows of sunny baylets, or dreaming in the breeze of the tree-tops of traditions old as the sequoias. What an authority would you and I be if we could read the unwritten history of their race!

Charles Elmer Jenny.

THE PRONG-HORNED ANTELOPE.

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