Читать книгу: «Birds and Nature Vol. 11 No. 1 [January 1902]», страница 5

Sagenitic Quartz. – This form of quartz, also known as “sagenite,” “fleche d’amour” (love’s arrow), “Venus’ hair stone,” and, if the included mineral be rutile, “rutilated quartz,” is rock crystal containing inclusions of other minerals in hair-like or thread-like forms. Of the minerals so included, rutile is the most common, but tourmaline, hornblende, epidote and others occur. These minerals are formed in the quartz doubtless by crystallizing simultaneously with that mineral, or “host,” as it is called. The arrangement often gives a stone of great beauty, especially when the rutile is more or less transparent and has a blood red color. The Japanese frequently polish the surfaces of such crystals of quartz to make the interior structure better visible. Specimens are also obtained from Madagascar, Brazil, and North Carolina in our own country. When the fibers of the included mineral are smaller and more abundant, the forms of quartz known as “cat’s eye” and “tiger eye” are produced. The reflection of light from the surfaces of the fibers gives the glittering effect known as chatoyancy. Nearly all the “tiger eye” in use at the present time comes from South Africa; the cat’s eye from Bohemia and Ceylon.

Oliver Cummings Farrington.

EVENING IN THE CANYON

 
The sun’s last beams kiss the mountain side,
At which it blushes like a bride;
A soft wave, from the earth’s warm breast,
Stirs in the pines and sinks to rest.
Far off a straying lambkin bleats,
Which pitying Echo soft repeats;
Anear the querulous, strident cries
That tell of insect lullabies.
Then long, grey shadows take command
And beckon with mysterious hand
Till falls a deep, expectant hush,
And then – the song of a single thrush.
The flowers and grasses bow the head,
Like children when their prayer is said,
While I with heart and soul rejoice
That a perfect day hath found its voice.
 

– M. E. Dissette.

BERRIES OF THE WOODS

There are no flowers to make the earth gay in winter, but the berries, vivid, scarlet, like a note of exclamation or emphasis, light up the somber browns and grays of the woods and marshes. Jack-in-the-pulpit now shows a brilliant cluster, the Uncle Spadix completely hidden by the flaming berries. It is as if Jack had forsaken his pulpit altogether and turned to a rollicking life in the world. We know quite well without seeing the birds feed on any special variety of berry that they like them, for in the economy of thrifty Dame Nature these vivid colors of the outer cases are signals – calls to a feast, with the prudent condition that thus the seeds shall be carried abroad.

Holly stands at the head of all the berry tribe, royal by virtue not only of its shining clusters of fruit, but its glossy leaves, deep cut on the edges, that keep their beauty so long. It is usually a shrub, but in the mountains where the conditions are favorable it towers aloft as a tree. Another less famous, yet admirable member of the Ilex family with red berries whirled most gracefully around its stem, is the winterberry or black alder. Its foliage is less beautiful than that of the holly, but its berries are as brilliant. There are different splendors for North and South. In the North, when the white frosts fall the prickly barberry bushes are already loaded with their tart scarlet berries, and the old fences are rich with the fruit of the choke cherry. In the damp places of Southern woods the spice berries of the Laurel family are shining in small clusters. You are drawn by another sense in this case, for the berries are not only pleasing to the eye; they have also a delightfully pungent fragrance, especially when the scarlet skin is broken, and shows the yellow pulp inside.

The staff-tree, shrubby bitter-sweet or strawberry tree – for it has many names – glows with its odd-looking fruit, consisting of a scarlet aril and orange-tinted, or crimson pods or seeds. The aril plays a different part in various plants, though it is always a seed-covering; in the water-lily it is the transparent seed-bag, in the nutmeg it is the mace, in the twining strawberry bush it is a pulpy scarlet case; in the shrub it looks rather like a red chestnut burr, split wide open to show its gay seeds. There is a low shrub whose dark purplish red berries are arranged gracefully along its slender stems, called the snow or coral berry. The latter name suggests a far brighter color than the berries possess, for they are rarely noticeable until the winter snows have turned the earth white and by contrast made them attractive. This belongs to the Honeysuckle family and grows abundantly beside roads and in fence corners. Most of the honeysuckles bear berries; the local honeysuckle is almost as brilliant in the season of fruit as when it blooms, but the Chinese and Japanese honeysuckles have berries of glossy black, easily seen by the birds. The haw and the tupelo also bear black berries, and it is a pretty sight to see the flowers of gay yellow and the black sapsuckers just arrived from the North, rejoicing over the feast of the purple-black clusters of the tupelo. Other birds also love them and the trees are crowded till the migration is over.

The pale blue adar berries are as fragrant as they are pretty, thickly clustered in the prickly boughs. The mistletoe (Trees-thief as its Greek name means) grows upon our great oaks, hanging sprays of pearly or clouded opaline berries among its strange, thick, yellowish leaves. It is not the English mistletoe of Christmas stories which grows upon fir-trees in preference to all others, but is of similar habit.

Ella F. Mosby.

EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OF NATURAL OBJECTS

In the inanimate world the things which most strongly impressed me were the many beautiful scenes of the winter season, such as the graceful drooping of the evergreens after a heavy snow fall; the thousands of domed, draped and capped objects at this time; the many beautiful designs of ferns, grasses, wheat sheaves, coral branches, etc., formed by the frost upon our windows, and the unmatchable splendor of the trees and other objects after receiving a coating of ice during a sleet storm. The lovely display of blossoms in the spring time, and the crimson leaves of autumn, also called forth expressions of joy and pleasure.

Among flowers, the wild blue violet is the first blossom that I remember having found and gathered. They were plentiful in the woods, meadows and roadsides, and we always kept one or more bunches of these and other wild flowers in the house during the spring season. Next to the blue violet, the dog-tooth violet, buttercups, spring beauties, dandelions and daisies follow in memory’s train.

My mother always accompanied me on my first little rambles, and many are the pleasant strolls we took, hand in hand, gathering flowers, listening to the songs of birds and enjoying the beautiful surroundings; her training and instruction in Nature’s book doubtless laid the foundation of my devotion to and study of these things in later years. Did she not call my attention to the gorgeous sunsets, to the bow of promise spanning the sky, to the squirrels and other little animals of the woods, to the rippling brook splashing over its pebbles and golden sands; did she not teach me to love God’s creatures and not kill or destroy them? Happy days never to be forgotten; little friendships never broken.

Berton Mercer.

TWO STRANGE HOMES

The little brown wren is a bird with which most of us are familiar, as it is one of our most common birds. It builds its nest in all sorts of odd places, venturing about barns, outhouses, or even the homes of men.

One summer a ball of twine left over from the harvesting was placed upon a shelf in our tool-house. The next spring a pair of tiny wrens discovered it and selected it as a suitable nesting place. They built the coziest and softest of homes in the hole in the center of the big ball and several eggs were laid before we discovered it. It was then left to the birds who had taken possession of it and they were allowed to raise their family there in peace.

At another time a pair of wrens built their nest in the sleeve of an old coat which had been left hanging in a shed and they made what, at least to them, was quite a palatial abode in that which superior man had deemed unfit for use.

Mary McCrae Culter.

THE GREENLAND WHALE
(Balaena mysticetus.)

The whale is by far the largest animal on earth, some species being many times the size of an elephant, and is it not a curious fact that in appearance it so resembles a fish that many suppose it to belong to that class, while truly it is not a fish at all? It is in reality much more like a cow or a horse, although externally it seems very unlike these animals; but appearances are not always to be relied upon.

When we examine the construction of the whale we find that it is warm-blooded, as we are. We find that it has immense lungs which hold a great quantity of air and that it must fill them or die. We find that it has bones similar to those of land animals. It has the seven neck bones found in all mammals, but it is the opposite extreme from the giraffe, as in proportion to its size it has the shortest neck of any mammal, while the giraffe has the longest. It has ribs, also bones for the forearm, and, nearly obliterated, there are found bones representing the hind legs. Instead of being hatched from an egg, as most fishes are, a baby whale comes into the world alive and complete, and for many months it takes its mother’s milk as a calf might do or a young colt. A baby whale is indeed a monstrous infant, being sometimes ten or twelve or even fifteen feet long; but by its mother’s side it does not seem such a monstrosity, for the whale mother may be forty-five or fifty feet in length herself.

These great animals are a most interesting study, for their ancestors undoubtedly once lived on land. We can imagine the land animal, many centuries ago, dwelling on the banks of some large stream, fond of spending much time in the water, until with successive generations the shape of the animal gradually changed and adapted itself to its fluid surroundings. The forearms and hands gradually became covered with continuous skin until the arm and hand became a flipper; the rear limbs grew shorter and snorter as they were used less and less, until finally there was nothing left to indicate their presence except a few small bones. The tail, used as a propeller, grew strong, large and flat, and we can imagine that the animals themselves, as they put out to sea and in time avoided even the rivers, became larger as the centuries passed by.

However this may be, the Greenland Whale has been found sixty feet in length, although some other species are smaller.

I think we can consider the whale an animal of a roving disposition. In early times it roved away from land, and now it belongs to the migratory animals, changing its locality with the seasons. The Greenland Whale is happiest with cold and ice, so when summer comes it travels north in great numbers. These great groups are called schools, and being of a social disposition, it is seldom found alone when traveling. At first thought it would seem strange that a warm-blooded animal with no fur to protect it could so enjoy the cold, but should we examine beneath the soft, velvety skin we would find a great layer of fat, from ten to eighteen inches thick. This protects the animal from cold like a great soft overcoat, and the polar sea has for it no terrors.

Of the peculiar make-up of the Greenland Whale the head is certainly the most peculiar of all the parts.

It is a great, shapeless mass about a third of the length of the entire animal. It seems to be out of all proportion until one realizes that it must provide food for this great creature, which is no small task. Like all of the whalebone whales, the Greenland Whale has no teeth, but in the mouth is found a great number of flexible, bone-like appendages attached to the roof of the mouth and palate at one end and hanging loose at the opposite end. These are known as the baleen plates and form the whalebone of commerce. In the Greenland Whale this whalebone hanging from the center of the jaw is sometimes twelve feet in length, and as there are from two hundred and fifty to four hundred in number, the great value of the baleen is readily seen. When the great animal opens its mouth, a row boat with its oarsmen could easily be taken in, yet the animal eats only small crustaceans, mollusks, worms and minute forms of life.

When the immense mouth opens, it takes in a large amount of water containing its food. The mouth then closes, but the water is permitted to flow out, the baleen acting like a sieve, retaining the food supply within and allowing the water to ooze away. The food is retained on the great tongue and swallowed at leisure.

The eye of the whale is very small; the ear is barely perceptible, yet when submerged, the sight is keen and the hearing well developed. The nostrils are placed on the top of the head, so that the whale when rising can readily begin the operation of breathing. With a snorting noise the animal first blows up the water which has entered the imperfectly closed nostrils when submerged. This is done with such force that the water is separated into fine drops and thrown fifteen or eighteen feet into the air. The whale then breathes with a rapid inspiration, making a sort of moaning sound. When the lungs are filled with air, it will plunge beneath the surface of the water and remain for perhaps twenty minutes before appearing again, although when wounded it remains under water a much longer time.

In spite of its great size the whale is so perfectly adapted to its surroundings that it is a highly active animal. It swims without apparent effort and on account of the great strength of the enormous horizontal tail fin, it can jerk itself above the water and take long leaps. The smoothness of the skin facilitates the passage of the immense bulk through the water and the thick layer of fat diminishes the weight so that a whale can move with the rapidity of a steamship.

The Greenland Whale is, on the whole, an amiable animal. It seems to prefer to live at peace with its kind, and although it can make great havoc with its immense tail fin, it seemingly does so by accident rather than from viciousness.

Like all other animals the whale has its enemies, especially when young. The killer-whale and some sharks hunt and attack the young whales, as indeed they do the older ones; but the greatest enemy of all is man. For a thousand years he has systematically pursued and captured many species, until some are nearly exterminated. The Americans became great whale hunters in the nineteenth century, and in the thirty-eight years from 1835 to 1872 nearly 20,000 ships engaged in this industry. These whaling ships were fitted especially for this work. They were built to withstand the perils of the ice-bound northern seas and were arranged for long voyages. It was a sad day in the coast villages when the whalers sailed on these long, perilous and uncertain cruises, for the ships frequently were gone three years and some never came back, though as a whole the actual loss of human life was comparatively small. A number of ships would if possible keep sufficiently near together to render assistance in case of accident.

After reaching the whaling grounds usually two men were kept on the mast as a lookout. When the cry came, “There they spout!” all became excitement. As soon as it was determined that the whales were the species which they were seeking, the boats were lowered, the harpoons, the lances, the gun, the hatchet, the knife, the blubber-spade, and, most important of all, the line, were all placed in the boat together with a keg of fresh water, some ship’s biscuit, the lantern, candles and matches; and in a very short time the men were lustily pulling toward the monster they hoped to capture. They endeavored to approach the whale from the rear and often were not discovered by the animal until the harpoons were buried in its body. The boat was then rowed backward with great speed, as the whale could easily annihilate it with one blow of its great tail. Frequently the whale would dive down perpendicularly to a great depth and if the line was not sufficiently long it would of course pull the boat after it. In time the whale was obliged to rise for air and the struggle was renewed. Other boats approached and threw their harpoons, and the whale either turned upon its tormentors or ran, dragging the boats after it. In time it became exhausted and then it was killed either with the gun, harpoon or a hand lance. It was then towed to the ship’s side, made fast with chains and placed to float head backwards. The blubber was then torn off by means of pulleys and tackle. This process lasted from four to eight hours. The upper jaw of the whalebone whale or the lower jaw of the sperm whale was then cut off and taken on deck. After all the valuable parts were taken the carcass was cast adrift. The blubber was then cut into pieces and tried out, the oil being stowed away in barrels. The value of the whale may be as high as $10,000.

The trying out of the oil is indeed a weird sight. At first, wood is used as a fuel, but afterward the residue of the blubber, called cracklings, is used, as it possesses sufficient heating power to finish the work. “Attired in their worst clothes,” writes Pechuel-Loeschke, “half-naked, dancing and singing, running after one another and brandishing their tools, dripping with oil and sooty like devils, the crew disport themselves about the hearth. An intensely active life prevails on board. The sight of this activity is doubly striking by night when a mass of the cracklings is hoisted up in an iron basket. This strange torch burns merrily, casting a weird light on the scene as the blazing flames throw glaring, fitful rays on the deck and bring out in bold relief the black clouds of smoke and the masts with their sails, the reflection extending far out over the sea. By day huge masses of smoke on the horizon betray the presence of a whaler which ‘tries out’ the blubber, long before one catches sight of the ship itself.”

John Ainslie.

 
Through the silent watches of the night
The snowflakes fast and faster fall;
And with swift and magic deftness,
Spread a spotless mantle over all.
 
 
Behold the landscape clothed in white,
Decked with crystals’ shining light;
See the towering fir trees bending low,
With their load of sparkling snow.
 

– Berton Mercer, “Winter.”