Citation
Four-footed Americans and their kin

Material Information

Title:
Four-footed Americans and their kin
Creator:
Wright, Mabel Osgood, 1859-1934
Chapman, Frank M ( Frank Michler ), 1864-1945 ( Editor )
Seton, Ernest Thompson, 1860-1946 ( Illustrator )
Macmillan Company ( Publisher )
Macmillan & Co ( Publisher )
Norwood Press ( Printer )
J.S. Cushing & Co ( Printer )
Berwick & Smith ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
New York
London
Publisher:
Macmillan Co.
Macmillan & Co., Ltd.
Manufacturer:
Norwood Press ; J.S. Cushing & Co. ; Berwick & Smith
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
xv, 432, [3] p. : ill. ; 20 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Mammals -- Juvenile fiction -- United States ( lcsh )
Animal behavior -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Naturalists -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Fathers and daughters -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Cousins -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Country life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
African Americans -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Farm life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Dogs -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1898 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1898
Genre:
Publishers' advertisements ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
United States -- Massachusetts -- Norwood
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

Summary:
Scientific information on four-footed animals given within a fictional narrative structure.
General Note:
"Index of English names," p. 432-432.
General Note:
Publisher's advertisement, [3] p. following index.
General Note:
"Ladder for climbing the family tree of the North American mammals," p. 415-430.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Mabel Osgood Wright ; edited by Frank M. Chapman ; illustrated by Ernest Seton Thompson.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
027028874 ( ALEPH )
ALJ0645 ( NOTIS )
02146952 ( OCLC )

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FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS












ge 306

— See pa

EER.

ERICAN D.

THE Am



FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

AND THEIR KIN

BY

MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT

EDITED BY

FRANK M. CHAPMAN

ILLUSTRATED BY

ERNEST SETON THOMPSON

Nefy Bork
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Lr.
1898

All rights reserved



Coryriaut, 1898,
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.

Norwood WPress
J.S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.



GL

To
WILLIAM T. HORNADAY
DIRECTOR OF THE NEW YORK ZOOLOGICAL PARK
This Book ts Dedtcater
BY THE AUTHOR

IN RECOGNITION OF HIS EFFORTS TO PRESERVE THE
LIVING AMERICAN MAMMALS WHERE THEY
MAY BE KNOWN TO THE CHILDREN
OF FUTURE GENERATIONS



SCENE:

OrcuHarpD FARM AND Twenty MILES AROUND.

TIME:

FALi unTIL SPRING.

CHARACTERS :

Dr. Roy Hunter, a naturalist.

Oxive, the Doctor’s daughter.

Nar and Dopo, the Doctor’s nephew and niece.
Mr. and Mrs. Biaxe, the parents of Nat and Dodo.
Rav, a lame country boy.

Mammy Bon, an old colored nurse and cook.
Ron, the farmer.

Ovar, a sailor and fisherman.

Nez Lone, a charcoal burner and woodsman.
Tornetter, Nez’ wife.

Quick, a fox terrier.

Mr. Wo tr, a St. Bernard dog.

ExrLanation. — Dr. Hunter, after travelling for many
years, returned to his old home at Orchard Farm, with his
daughter Olive, aged seventeen, and Mammy Bun. He
invited Nat and Dodo, who had always lived in the city, to
spend the summer with him, so that they might learn about
outdoor things, and told them the story of the birds.

Mr. and Mrs. Blake came for the children in the autumn,
and they expected to return to the city to school; but Dr.
Hunter, who was always making delightful surprises, arranged
for the whole family to spend the winter at the Farm. What
they did, and how they became acquainted with the Four-
FOOTED AmeERIcANS, is told in this story. 5

vii













TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

PAGE

In TuE PASTURE . : : ‘ ‘ : ‘ : ‘ ‘ 1
CHAPTER II

Tor AnrmwMAL TREE. : i : : 4 : poll
CHAPTER III

WAFFLES AND A WALK. : : : i 3 : sae
CHAPTER IV

CuimBING THE ANIMAL TREE. 23 ; 5 : 6 eanoll
CHAPTER V

Aw AutumMN Honipay ‘ : : 5 A ; Boe 4

Woodchucks, Muskrats, etc.

CHAPTER VI

Our-poor CookERY . : : ; : 5 ; 9 . 60
CHAPTER VII

Camp SATURDAY . : : : Z z ; : : Memes?)
CHAPTER VIII

EExpianation Nicutr . : : i : : : : me 04

The Brotherhood of Beasts.

CHAPTER IX

An INVITATION . ; % : 5 . : : é ~ldd

ix



x TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER X
Monarcus IN EXILe
The American Bison.
CHAPTER XI

Rappir Tracks

Wood Hare — Varying Hare —Jack Rabbit — Marsh Hare
— Pika, Little Chief, or Whistling Hare.

CHAPTER XII
Tur Winter Woops .
Trails and Trapping.
CHAPTER XII

Nez Lone’s MENAGERIE

The Little Fur-bearers — Otter — Skunk — Little sintped
Skunk — Weasel — Sable — Fisher — Wolverine — Mink
— Raccoon, etc.

CHAPTER XIV

Foxes AND SNOW-SHOES
Red Fox — Gray Fox — Arctic Fox.

CHAPTER XV
Wotr !
The Timber Wolf, and the Ce or Prairie Wolf.

CHAPTER XVI
- Cousins or Cats. 5 : 5 : : ;
Puma— Ocelot — Wildcat, also the Civet Cat, which is no
Cat at all.
CHAPTER XVII

Turer Harpy MountTaInrErs

The Grizzly Bear— Big Horn See Boy Mountain
Goat.

PAGE

115

137

194

212

223

238



TABLE OF CONTENTS Xl

CHAPTER XVIII
PAGE
On THE PLAINS . : : a - 5 . 254

The Pronghorn or Antelope — Prairie Dog— Corot and
Badger.

CHAPTER XIX

Unper THE Potar STAR
The Woodland Caribou — Musk Ox — Polar Bear.

bo
=I
oO

CHAPTER XX

A Spausxin Jacket at Home . : : 5 : . 282

The Walrus — Sea Lion — Sea Bear or Fur Seal and the
Harbor Seal.

CHAPTER XXI

Horns, Prones, AnD ANTLERS . : ‘ 5 5 . 298

Elk — American Deer — Growth and Difference between
Horns and Antlers explained.

CHAPTER XXII
Nez’ Bre Moose : ; 5 : Picts ‘ : . 809

CHAPTER XXIII

Fisn or Fiesu. : z ; : : : : ; . 3820

Manatee — Sperm Whale — Bowhead Whale — Finback
Whale — Porpoise — Dolphin.

CHAPTER XXIV

Rats anp Mice . : § . 83l
Muskrat — White Lemming — Set seea Mouse — Cot-
ton Rat— Wood or Pack Rat— Marsh Rat — Pouched
Gopher — Gray Pocket Gopher — Kangaroo Rat — Pocket
Mouse — Jumping Mouse.



Kell TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER XXV
PAGE
MiscuHier Makers : ; A Zs : j | ; . 849

Red Squirrel — Flying Squirrel — Gray Squirrel — Fox Squir-
rel — Chipmunk — Striped Spermophile — Line-tailed or
Rock Spermophile.

CHAPTER XXVI

Tue Beaver’s Story . : : ; ‘5 : 3 A . 3865

CHAPTER XXVII
“Bears anp Possums”? : : j 3 : : 5 . 93876
Mammy Bun’s Story.

CHAPTER XXVIII

From Morretown ro Barvitye . 3 Fi : i 5 . 3887

Comnion Mole — Star-nosed Mole — Short-tailed Shrew —
Least Shrew — Hoary Bat — Little Red Bat — Brown Bat
— Little Brown Bat — House or Snouty Bat.

CHAPTER XXIX

A Four-roorep Dance i : : : 5 ‘ 3 . 403

LADDER FOR CLIMBING THE NORTH AMERICAN
MAMMAL TREE 5 : ; : , : : . 415

INDEX : 2 : 5 5 ; 2 5 . . 481



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

[The artist has furnished his own incidents for many of these
illustrations, and the author wishes to express her thanks for the
use of the same in the stories.]

PAGE
Tun AMERICAN DEER. : : f 2 . Frontispiece
Tom, JERRY, AND CoMET . 3 : : . 5 5 5 6
VERTEBRATE BRANCHES OF THE ANIMAL TREE F ; tel
THe Woopcnuck ‘ : . : : 5 : : . 44
Front Paw anp Tain or Musxrat . z a * : . Ag
Tue Lumper Camp. fi : : e 5 ; * Nese,
Tue CoLt“tarED Preccary . A 3 5 5; i : pero 0)
Wuitt-FooTen Mouse : < eee 6 : : ees OI)
Nortu AMERICAN MaMmMAL TREE § ; : 3 123,98
Tue Bison . ; A : , : fe A . 3 . 118
Woop Hare ‘ z j 3 3 z ‘ : ; . 140
Marsu Hare : : 3 : 5 : 2 s : . 146
Jack Rabssir z ‘ F 4 ‘ : : 3 : . 148
Varying Hare . ‘ ‘ : 4 : 5 5 » 1b1

Pika, Lirrire Curer, or Wuistirinc Hare. ; « 154
A Rep Fox, Hunrine . 5 Fi é : a 3 - 158

CanapA PorcurinE . 5 i 3 : 3 5 3 . 162
Common Sxunx . : : - . 3 : ; - 176
OrrrER AND FisHer . : a : 5 5 : - . 178
‘Tarrre Stripep Skunk. ; A 5 E 3 § . 180
WeEAsEL orn Ermine . : : : : eaters . 183
Tue Minx . y y 5 2 ; ; Bs . i . 185
Pinr Marten anp Rep Squrrret . s i 3 E . 186
xiii



Xlv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

WOLVERINE . : ‘ ‘ 2 i : , 4 Zi Bi

Turn Raccoon

Tue Arctic Fox

Timber Wouter

Civer Car

Tur OcEror : : e ‘

Hzaps or House Car, Wirpcat, ann Cayapa Lynx

Tue Puma uuntinc Ev

GrizzLty Bear anp Bicnorn Sueep .

Moentain Goats

Drama or THE Prarns z ‘ : f . ‘ a

Tur Bapcrer

Woopranp Caripou

Musk Ox

Porar Bear anp SEAL

ATLANTIC WaALrus

Sea Bear or Fur Sear

Harzor Sran :

Heaps oF ANTELOPE oR Pronenory, Mountain Goat, Bic-
HORN, AND Musk Ox

Hzaps or Woopranp Carisou, Moos, anp Evx

Nez’ Bia Moose.

Tore Manater

Tue Serra WuHare

Finpack WuHaty

Tue PorpoiseE . s é : . :

Dorruins - : : : . : : .

Meapow Mouser . _ : 5 : A 3 :

Tur Muskrar. : : : ; Yi .

Corron Rar ? ° P . ‘ . ‘ :

Marsu Rar. 3 . i y : ;

Woon Rar . : A : ‘ ‘

PoucHep or Mote Goruer 5 A . : 6 :

Gray Pocket Goruur : ‘ i : ° : ‘





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

KancGaroo Rar
Pockrr Mousr
Jumping Mousr .
Fryine Squirre_s
Gray SQuirreL

Tur Cnipmunk
Srrirpep SpERMOPHILE
Rock SpermMoruiLe
Beavers ar Worx
Brack Bear

Tue Opossum

Lirrte Brown Bar
Common More
Srar-nosep Monn
SHort-TaAILED SHREW .

Least Surew

xV

PAGE
345
347
348
352
358
360
362
364
366
379
383
389
390
391
394
395



FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

IN THE PASTURE






wT was circus day down at East Village.
Not the common circus, with a Lion,
Elephant, a cage or two of Monkeys,
a fat clown turning somersaults, and
a beautiful lady floating through
paper hoops, but a real American
circus — the Wild West Show,
with its scouts, frontiersmen, Bron-
cos, bucking Ponies, Indians,
~ and Buffaloes.
Of course the House People at Orchard Farm made
‘a holiday and went down to see the show, giving many
different reasons for so doing. Dr. Hunter and Mr.
Blake said it was their duty as patriotic Americans
to encourage native institutions, and Mrs. Blake said
that she must surely go to see that the young people
did not eat too many peanuts and popcorn balls. The
young people thought that going to the circus was a
must be, unless one was ill, or had done something very,
very wrong, that merited the severest sort of punish-
ment. Mammy Bun, too, who had been groaning
B res fil:





2 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

about pains in her bones for fully a week, took out
her best black bonnet trimmed with a big red rose, —
headgear that she only wore on great occasions, —
saying : —

“ Pears to me nuffin eber does ma reumatiz de heap
o’ good like hearin’ a real circus ban’ a playin’. Land
alibe, honies! I feel so spry alreddy seems like I’se
could do a caike walk dis yer minit.”

* Co * * Co

It was October. Everything looked cheerful at the
farm. The maples were dressed in dazzling red and
yellow ; heaps of red and yellow apples lay undér the
orchard trees, and the house and barns wore a glisten-
ing new coat of yellow paint, with white trimmings
and green blinds.

A deeper yellow shone from the fields where jolly
pumpkins seemed to play hide-and-seek behind the
corn stacks, which the children called wigwams when
they played Indian. Everything looked as thrifty as
if the outdoor season was beginning instead of nearly
at an end; and well it might, for it had been many
years since the old farm held such a family. There
would be no closed blinds, leaf-choked paths, or snow-
drifts left to bury the porch, this winter.

“Yes, the Chimney Swift was right,” said the
Meadowlark in the old field, to the Song Sparrow who
was singing cheerfully in a barberry bush. “ We shall
be better off than before these House People came ;
they have already begun to scatter food in the barn-
yard, though there are enough gleanings about to last
us citizens until snow comes. ‘The village boys never
think of coming up here now to shoot, as they used



IN THE PASTURE 3

to every season when the wind began to blow cold” ;
and the Meadowlark flew to the top rail of the fence,
boldly showing his yellow breast, and giving a note or
two to tell how trustful he was.

“Where have you been all summer?” asked Comet,
the young trotter, of the big brown farm horses, who
had come to drink at the spring in the pasture below
the barns. “It is so long since I have seen you I was.
afraid that you had been sold.”

“Oh no, youngster!” replied Tom. “Jerry and I
have only been summering up at the wood lots at the
far end of the farm. We had our shoes off all the
time, and could amuse ourselves as we liked. We
never saw a harness or wagon; all the work we did
was to roll in the grass or wade in the river to keep
the flies off. The grazing up there was simply deli-
cious, you know, —all sorts of relishing little bits of
herbs mixed in with the grass.

“Now that we have had our rest, it is our turn to
work, and gray Bess and Billy have gone to the pad-
dock, and we have come to take their places. ‘There is
plenty to do on this farm in fall and winter, though
it is very lonely. I can remember, when I was a four-
year-old, that House People lived in the big barn with
all the windows, and they used to ride over the snow
in the low wagon without wheels, and we all had fine
times together.”

“There are fine times here now,” said Comet, shak-
ing his mane importantly; “but of course you do not
know about them, because you have been away. House
People are living here again. We all have great fun
and the best of eating, with more picnics than plough-



4 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

ing for the horses. Children play about the farm, who
feed me with bunches of pink clover and little lumps
of nice-tasting stuff they call sugar. I mistrusted it
at first, it looked so like the hard pebbles in the brook,
but it chewed up all right when I nibbled some.”

“ You don’t look as if you had been having half enough
to eat, in spite of the good times,” said Tom, pityingly.
“Only look at your ribs. I can count every one of
them. If you were harnessed to a plough, you would
come apart at the very first pull. How could you
drag a load of hay? As for working in the thresh-
ing-machine, those little feet of yours would catch
between the slats. What use are thin horses, any-
way?” concluded Tom, rather rudely, not realizing
that his remarks were impolite, while Jerry looked
proudly along his fat sides and pawed the ground with
a hoof nearly as large as a dinner plate.

Comet was going to answer angrily and say some-
thing very saucy about clumsy work horses, but he
stopped himself in time, being every inch a thorough-
bred; for good breeding shows in the manners of
“animals as well as in House People.

“No,” he answered after a moment, “I can’t plough,
nor drag a load, nor work the threshing-machine ; but
horses are made for different kinds of work. You do
not think a cow useless because she gives milk instead
of doing any sort of pulling, do you? Now I can drag
the little wagon over to the railway station — where
the great iron horse drags the string of covered wagons
along the ground on the queer shiny fence rails —in
half the time it takes you to go round the ten-acre
lot. When I hear that horse coming, breathing hard



IN THE PASTURE 5

and roaring, I prick up my ears, and you can hardly
see my feet when they touch the road, for I do not
want that great roaring horse to get there before I do.
So the master is pleased, and always takes me. How
would you like to go fast like that?” said Comet,
smiling behind a bunch of grass.

“T couldn’t go fast if I wanted to,” said Tom, hon-
estly. “I tried it once, when a plough-chain fell and
banged my heels. They called it running away, I
believe. My! how warm I was. Everything looked
red as the sun in August, and a warm rain storm
rolled off my coat on to the grass. That is what it
seemed to me, but the farmer said, ‘Tom is too fat and
soft. See how he sweats!’ and they skimped my
dinner for a month.”

‘Well, then, to continue,” said Comet. “We ani-
mals haven’t been shut up all summer except in
stormy weather; the bars have been down between all
the best pastures. Even Sausage, the sow, and her
nine little pigs, have been out walking every day, and
her sty has had fresh bedding in it the same as if they
were Cow or Horse People.

“We had so much freedom that I thought at first
that there would be a great many fights, but we have
all behaved beautifully. Even Nanny Baa, the stub-
born old sheep, and Corney, the mischievous goat, have
not butted any one or fought each other.

“We've had a chance to hear about the world and
the other animals in it too, for a circus has been camp-
' ing a few fields further down.”

“T don’t like a circus,” interrupted Jerry, decidedly.
“There are always a lot of bad-smelling, foreign beasts



6 FOUR-FOOTED. AMERICANS

in cages with a circus, that a respectable farm four-
foot should not encourage. Then there is a terrible
noise, — worse than milk-pans falling off the fence, —
that they call a band; it makes me forget. myself and
dodge and dance all over the road. . Yes, indeed, I
well remember the first circus I ever heard. It came
here when we were five-year-olds. .‘T’om and I upset a
load of cabbages, and they rolled all the way down
Long Hill into the brook.”

“There were no foreign wild beasts in thés circus,”
said Comet, proud of his knowledge. “I put my head
through the fence bars and had a fine chance to talk
to some of the horses. There were several kinds of
Horse Brothers there that I had never seen before ;
different even from the long-eared. Donkey and Mule
Brothers.” Here Comet stopped, took a bite of grass
and a drink of water, waiting to see if Tom and Jerry
were interested.

They were, and as Comet looked up he saw that
some of the other animals were coming down to drink,
— Daisy, the finest cow in the herd, and Nanny Baa,
sauntering all alone, the other sheep not having yet
missed her, while Corney, the goat, whose whole name
was Capricornus, danced about on a rock, charging at
an imaginary enemy in the sky.

“ What other horses did you see?” asked Tom and
Jerry together, as the others came up.

“There were small horses, homely and thin, with
straight necks and rolling eyes. Some of these were
brown, and some all mixed brown and white. ‘They
ran up and down the field, clearing the old division
fence at a jump. These were called Indian Ponies,









Tom, JERRY, AND CoMET.



IN THE PASTURE 7

and men they called Indians, with small eyes and dark
rusty faces, rode on them for exercise. Beside these
there were some others, called Burros, with longish
ears, who did not seem to know how to either trot or
run, and some of the small horses kept jerking and
humping up their backs, so that the men could not
ride them.

“Who told you all these names?” asked Tom,
suspiciously.

“There was.an old horse who did not work in the
circus, but only helped draw wagons, who stayed by
the fence and talked to me. He had seen a great deal
of life in his day, and what do you think he said about
those strange horses? That they were not born and
raised on nice farms like you and me; that they came
from the west country where they run wild until they
are old enough to work, and they live in great flocks as
the Crows do hereabouts. Every horse has a mark on
his side, put there by the man who owns him. When
they are young they have fine sport, but when it is
time for them to work, men ride after them on swift
horses and catch them by throwing a rope loop over
their heads, and sometimes this hurts them very much,
and they are also sorry to leave their friends.

“ Out in the west country where these horses lived,
the plains are full of fourfoots, —not Horse and Cow
People, — but real wild fourfoots, strange as any of the
Elephants or Lions. There are more kinds of them
than you could ever dream of, even if you ate a whole
bushel of oats for supper.

“The Horse said that they belong to older American
families than any of us farm animals, and that once



8 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

these four-footed Americans and the Red Indian
Brothers, who lived in tents, owned all the country,
and there were no real House People or farm fourfoots
here at all.”

“That must have been a long time ago,” said Jerry.
“T remember my grandmother, and she never said any-
thing about wild people, and I never knew about any
other animals but ourselves.”

“Who am J, pray?” squealed a Squirrel, scamper-
ing along the fence. ‘“ How ignorant you are not to
know that I belong to a very old family.” :

“ You don’t count,” neighed Jerry. ‘I never thought
you were an animal.”

“Not an animal, hey? I will show you what a sharp-
toothed animal I am, some fine day, and nibble up your
dinner when you are asleep,” and the Squirrel jumped
over Jerry’s back, and ran up a tree.

“My friend told me,” continued Comet, “ that some
of those wild fourfoots are working for their living in
this very circus. They are quite rare now, though
they used to be as plentiful in the west pastures as
ants in a hill. He showed me some of these beasts
this very morning when they were being led down to
the village.”

“ What did they look like?”

“Something like bulls, with low backs and great
heavy heads, all bushy with thick brown wool. My
friend said they are called Bison by the Wise Men; but
in the circus and out where they used to live, every one
calls them Buffaloes.”

“T wonder if they are related to me?” said Daisy,
who had joined the group.



IN THE PASTURE 9

“They are not as handsome as you, though they
might belong to your family,” said Comet, politely.

“Perhaps I may have some wild cousins,” said
Sausage, rooting up the turf. “I wonder what they
eat?”

“J should like to go and meet my wild relations, if
I have any,” said Corney. ‘I wonder if they could
beat me at butting and sliding down hill?”

“Humph, it is very strange about all these wild
things,” said Jerry. “I— My, they are making that
bang noise again, down at the village!”

“That is the band. I think the circus is over,” said’
Comet.

“Which Horse Brother dragged the people down
there, and who went?” asked Daisy, who was always
inquisitive.

“They all went, and they walked with their own
feet, because the Doctor knows that we do not like
smells and noises,” said Comet. “They are coming
back up the hill now. Nat is following ’way behind,
carrying something. Ugh! It is a big snake, and he
has it by the tail. I hate snakes; they look up so
suddenly out of the grass when one is feeding, and
they always seem to be by the nicest bunch of clover.”

“Perhaps the people will stop here to rest, and we
may hear something about our wild brothers,” said
Daisy.

“J think Dodo has sugar for me,” said Comet to Tom
and Jerry. “I will drop a piece, and you can pick it
up, and see how you like it.”

“Comet is quite a gentleman, if his ribs do show,”
muttered Tom to his companion, looking pleased, while



10 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the other animals lingered about the spring, waiting for
the House People.

‘Here are the horses that I haven’t seen before from
the grass farm; and Comet, too, and Daisy!” cried
Dodo, climbing over the fence. “Please stop a bit,
Uncle Roy, and let me give them some of my popcorn
balls ; I’m sure they will like them, and Corney simply
loves peanuts.”

“What did I tell you?” whispered Comet to Tom,
as Dodo chirped for him to come to her.



II

THE ANIMAL TREE





S OME up on the fence too, please,
uncle,” coaxed Dodo, and Dr.
Hunter climbed over the
pasture bars, seating him-
self on the fence in answer to
her request to ‘stop a bit while
she fed the animals.” He mo-
tioned to Rap, who was rather
tired with his walk, to come
beside him, while Nat and Dodo divided the contents
of their pockets into little heaps.

“Give the popcorn to Daisy and the horses,” said
Dodo. “The peanuts are for Corney; we can toss
them up, and see him hop and scramble to catch them.
It’s lots of fun. Sausage can have all the mixed
crumbs, ’cause she likes grubby things. Please, Nat,
won't you bury your snake, or hang it up, or some-
thing? Whichever way I look, it seems to be too near.”

“Tll hang it up on the tree, because I’m going to
put it in a glass jar to keep. Daddy has gone back
to the village to buy me some alcohol to pour on it.”

“Ugh! what do you want it for? If I were you,
I’d rather have the money the alcohol costs to buy

a new butterfly net.”
11



12 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Uncle Roy says it is as fine a rattlesnake as he
ever saw. ‘That is why he bought it of the man from
the mountain, who killed it. There aren’t any here-
abouts now. biters; but. I want it for my collection. I haven't
many reptiles, you know; only a garter snake, two
lizards, and a frog—whoa! Tom, eat fair; your
mouth is twice as big as Comet’s.”’

“How queer Daisy’s tongue feels—it tickles my
hand,” said Dodo. “She licks everything into her
mouth, but the. horses take food in their lips. Uncle
Roy, please come down here and see how queerly
Daisy eats, and oh, my! she hasn’t any top front
teeth, either. Is she very old? Do look; her jaws
wiggle as if she was chewing gum!”

“No, little girl; none of the Cow Family have any
front upper teeth. A well-behaved cow sticks out
her tongue with a sidewise motion to guide the grass
into her mouth, while in the Horse Family the habit
is to seize it with the lips, and then nip it between
the teeth.”

“Yes, but, uncle!” cried Nat, jumping hastily over
the fence to dodge Corney, who was tired of eating
peanuts one by one, and, giving a sudden butt, had
seized bag and all; “ Uncle Roy, cows are ever so fond
of chewing. They eat all the morning, and then they
go under the trees and chew, chew, chew, all the after-
noon ; but horses gobble their food once for all.”

“Tm very glad you have noticed this, Nat. The
cow is built upon a different plan from the horse.
The horse has a complete set of upper and under
teeth, and a single stomach — something like our own

2)



THE ANIMAL TREE 13

—to receive the food. The cow has four stomachs.
When she eats, the food goes into the first stomach,
where it stays a while to grow soft. After Daisy has
filled this first stomach, she goes to rest for a while,
brings up the softened food into her mouth, and chews
itagain. This softened food is called the ‘cud.’ ”

“Oh, now I know what Rod meant,” cried Dodo,
clapping her hands, “when he said the cows were
chewing their ‘cud.’ They were lying under the trees,
and didn’t seem to have anything near them to eat.
I thought cud must be moss or something. Do any
other of our animals beside cows have several stom-
achs and chew cud?”

“ Yes, all the animals that belong to the Meat Fam-
ily: Sheep and Goats, and, among their wild Ameri-
can brothers, the Deer and the very Buffalo that you
saw at the show this afternoon.”

“Were those strange beasts any relations of our
farm animals?” asked the children in one breath.

“Were our farm animals once wild like the Buf-
faloes, and did they live far out West? Who first
caught them and made them tame?” gabbled Dodo,
only stopping when her breath failed.

“Our farm animals were never, in the true sense,
natives of this country. In the far back days, before
the pale-faced voyagers came to these shores, the Red
Brothers had no horses to carry them, nor cows to give
them milk. They followed the war-path and game-
trail on foot, and their clothing and tent homes were
made of the skins of the beasts they took with bow,
arrow, and spear. Time was when they had not even
spears and arrows.



14 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“When the pale-faced settlers came to America they
brought the useful animals from their old homes with
them: pigs, sheep, horses, goats, cows, dogs, cats,
etc., —so though these have lived here as the people
have, long enough to be citizens, they are not native
or indigenous Americans any more than we ourselves.
That distinction belongs to the Indian, Peccary, Buffalo,
Musk Ox, Mountain Goat, Bighorn, Wolf, and Wild-
cat, who are the wild cousins of House People and
their farm fourfoots. The horse alone has no living
wild cousin here, though there were horses in America
ages ago.”

“Then those horses that the Indians rode at the
show, who hopped around so, weren’t really wild at
all,” said Nat, with a look of great disappointment.
“They seemed really, truly wild, and how the Indians
stuck on and dodged and fired their guns!”

“They are wild in the sense that they were born on
the open prairie and lived in vast herds, but they are
the great-grandchildren of tame horses. In the south-
west, ag well as in South America, vast herds of these
horses, descended from those brought in by the Span-
ish, roamed at large. From time to time the Indians
dashed into the troops and lassoed those that they de-
sired and rode them as we saw the Indians do this °
afternoon, but they are not true four-footed Americans
like that little Chipmunk over there, who is stealing a
few peanuts that Corney overlooked, or like the sly,
fat Woodchucks that we are trying to trap in the
orchard.” ;

“Please, Uncle Roy, can Dodo and I put halters on
Tom and Jerry and see if we can ride them round the



THE ANIMAL TREE 15

field without any saddles?” said Nat, looking fearlessly
up at the big horses, whose mouths barely touched the
top of his head.

“You can try, if you like,” laughed the Doctor, “but
Vm afraid it will be too hard travelling for Dodo. No,
you will risk a bumping? Very well, then, but tell
Rod to bring blankets and surcingles.”

In a few minutes Rod came, strapped a folded
blanket on each horse, and gave Nat Jerry’s halter, but
insisted upon keeping hold of Tom.

“ Now, if I only had something to shoot with, we
could play circus. Hoo-o0-ooh!” cried Nat, trying to
imitate an Indian cry, at which sound Jerry galloped
very quietly down the pasture, switching his tail. But
to Nat it seemed as if he was seated on an earthquake,
and he clutched Jerry’s mane, whereupon the horse
gave a little kick of surprise and cantered heavily back
to the spring.

“TY think T-o-m is falling to pieces,” chattered Dodo,
as-Rod ran him round the pasture. “He — is—so—
fat, too, my legs can’t bend down; —I— guess Ill
stop, please,” and Rod swung her down to the wall
beside her uncle.

“ A circus isn’t as easy as it looks,” said Nat, wiping
his face, and Rap laughed heartily and pounded his
crutch on the fence.

“Farm horses are not saddle horses,’
himself.

“Tm all mixed up about animals,” said Dodo in a
few minutes when she had caught her breath. “ Our
farm animals aren’t real Americans, yet Daisy is a
kind of cousin of the wild Buffalo, because she has no

>

said Comet to



16 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

upper front teeth and chews a cud. Birds seem so
much easier to understand. Birds are animals with a
backbone, a beak for a mouth, and two legs. They
wear feathers and lay eggs. But these others are
different in their mouths and stomachs and feet, and
some have horns and some don’t. Some have little
tails like Corney, and some long hairy tails like the
horses, and oh, Uncle Roy, that snake there is all tail !

“ Olive says bugs, and beetles, and flies, are animals,
too, and, beetles are crusty, and caterpillars are squashy,
and flies are buzzy, and I’m sure I never can tell who
is who. Birds look something alike, even when they
are as different as a Hummingbird and a Duck; but I
can’t understand how all the other animals are re-
lated.”

“ Not so fast, dearie,” said the Doctor, laughing at her
inquiries until the tears ran down his cheeks. “The
differences and the relationships of these animals are
no harder to remember than they are among the birds.
You know that with them their beaks and feet were
arranged to suit their needs. Have you forgotten how
we classified the birds, and the little table of the Animal
Kingdom that you wrote?”

“Yes,” said Nat, hesitating; “that is, I did know,
but I’ve forgotten most of it.”

“TI remember,” said Rap, “that you said classifying
was to put the animals together that were the nearest
alike, and the two great divisions of the Animal King-
dom were animals without backbones and animals with
them.”

“Olive says my sponge is an animal,” said Dodo,
doubtfully. “Surely it can’t have any backbone, for



THE ANIMAL TREE 17

if it did it would scratch my face; but then it was full
of prickles when it was new, perhaps its backbone was
crumpled up!”

“T must try to make this Animal Kingdom and its
chief divisions more clear to you,” said the Doctor,
pausing a minute as he looked across the pasture. “Do
you see that great chestnut tree yonder, with the thick
trunk and wide-spreading branches ?”

. “Yes, indeed,” said Rap, “and it bears the fattest,
sweetest nuts of any tree hereabouts; but it takes a
very hard frost to open them.”

“JT remember how good the nuts used to be, but now
I want you all to notice the way in which the tree
grows. Above ground there is a thick straight part
which is called the trunk; then this soon divides
into large branches. A little further up these thick
branches separate into smaller branches yet, until they
end in little slender twigs.

“The Animal Kingdom is like this tree in the way
in which the different members all are developed side
by side, interlacing and depending upon each other. It
is difficult to tell some of the lowest branches of the
animal tree from plants: as none of these animals of

_the first branches have any backbones, they are called
Invertebrates, and their inside parts are held together
in a little tube.”

“Are birds on one of the high branches?” asked
Dodo.

“Yes, one of the very highest, next to the great
branch, where man himself sits, surrounded by all his
faithful four-footed friends, just as he is when he walks
about every day.”

Cc



18 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Do House People and fourfoots belong on the same
great branch?” said Rap, looking puzzled. “ What is
it called, please?”

“Tt ig the Mammal branch, the highest of all, and it
has so many little branchlets and twigs that it is large
enough to be a tree all by itself.”

“Exactly how are the other Mammals like us, and
what does Mammal mean? Do they all have warm red
blood like ours?” asked Dodo, who was celebrated for
cutting her fingers.

“ They all have warm red blood, but so have birds ;
there are other differences that you will learn later.
The one thing that makes them Mammals is that they
suckle their young with milk.”

“M— mammals; m—milk,” sane Dodo. “Why,
that is as easy to remember as ‘ Billy Button bought a
buttered biscuit’! Please tell us the names of some
nearby Mammals, Uncle Roy.”

“ All the farm and house fourfoots are Mammals ;.
also the wild Deer, Wolves, Foxes, Rats, Mice, Squir-
rels, Moles, Skunks, Weasels, and Woodchucks, beside
many others you do not know even by name.”

“So all those nuisance animals are Mammals too,”.
said Dodo, meditatively.

“Nuisance animals! Which are those?” asked
Rap.

“The naughty, bothersome ones that eat things and
bite holes in the house, and dig up the orchard, and
smell, oh, so bad! Why, Rap, don’t you remember
the evening we thought there was a black and white
rooster by the orchard wall, and Quick and I tried to
catch it, and it turned out to be a Skunk? Then my



THE ANIMAL TREE 19

clothes had to be boiled so hard they were no more use,
and Quick tried to get away from himself for almost
two weeks.”

“Oh, yes, Ido. Mammals must have a great many
shapes, Doctor,” continued Rap, thoughtfully. “How
are they made into families?— the same way as
birds?” ae

“In very much the same way. To-night, after sup-
per, I will draw you a picture of a part of this wonder-
ful animal tree, and tell you the names of some of its
branches, and perhaps you will remember a few of them.
I do not wish to bother you with long words, but there
are a few that you must learn.

“The history of this animal tree is the most inter-
esting story in the world, and the Wise Men call it
Zodlogy, after two Greek words that mean the
‘history of animal life.’ ”

“Then that is the reason why an out-door menag-
erie is called a Zo-o-logical Garden,” said Nat, stum-
bling a trifle over the word. ‘Daddy was reading to
mother about such a beautiful garden for wild animals
that is going to be made near New York, — the very
biggest in the world,—so that every one in America
can see how the animals live. Perhaps we can go
there some day and see all the Mammals.”

“Daisy gives milk, so I am very sure I know one
Mammal anyway,” said Dodo, who was growing a little
tired. “Oh! oh!” she cried, suddenly jumping off
the fence. “The sun is going down pop. I never
noticed it, and Rod said I might help milk to-night.
He’s taking the cows in now. Won't you come and
see me do it, Uncle Roy?”



20 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“You help milk?” laughed Nat. “Who taught
you how?”

“Rod; D’ve had four lessons, and J can milk almost
a quart. Then my hands grow all weak and shaky,
and Rod says it’s enough for once, both for me and for
the cow. Daisy is the only one that will let me.”

“Poor, patient Daisy,” laughed the Doctor. “To
be sure we will come and see this famous milkmaid.”

Dodo led the way to the cow barn, where each cow
had a clean stall marked with her name. ‘Then she
.tied a queer sort of apron round her waist, made, like
Rod’s, out of a meal sack, hunted for a small stool, algo
like Rod’s, and prepared in a very businesslike man-
ner to wash off Daisy’s bag with a sponge and some
clean water.

“Bravo! Bravo!” cried the Doctor. “My little
farmer has already learned that everything about milk,
from the animal to the pans, should be very clean.”

“ Zig-zig-zig-zig,” said the milk, spattering on the
bottom of the pail. In a few minutes the spattering
stopped.

“Now it’s beginning to purr like a cat,” explained
Dodo. “It does that when the milk begins to fill up a
little.”

Dodo kept bravely at it until her fingers, now red
and tired, had coaxed about a quart from Daisy.

“That will go for to-night,” she said, though I’m
sure I milked more last time. I’m dreadfully thirsty ;
suppose we drink this now, Uncle Roy. There’s a
glass by the well, Nat,’—and the milk rapidly
disappeared.

“M— mammals; m—=milk,” sang Dodo, skipping



THE ANIMAL TREE 21

ahead toward the house, as the short twilight hurried
after the sun.

“J wish the days were longer,” sighed Rap, turning
to go home.

“ But evening with a wood fire in the wonder room
is lovely,” sang Dodo, “and to-night uncle he, will
draw a tree,””—she sang; then stopped and laughed
at her rhyme.

“Uncle Roy,” she whispered, “it’s been such a
happy day, can we have Rap to help finish off by
toasting crackers in the wonder room, and see you
draw the animal tree? Yes? Wl give you a bear’s
hug!”

“TY reckon there will be a frost to-night,” said Rod,
passing on his way to the house with the milk-pail.

“Frost!” shouted Nat, dancing round in glee.
“ Frost — chestnuts, Rap,—and to-morrow will be
Saturday !”

“How do you like this?” said Comet, looking up
from his oats over to Tom and Jerry, as the stable
door closed with a click. “ Box stalls and two bundles
of clean straw apiece, and warm bran mash for you
beside. Did you ever have anything as nice as this
where you were this summer ?”

“J think the House People here understand a
horse’s feelings,” answered Jerry, plunging his nose
into his supper.



It
WAFFLES AND A WALK

AMMY BUN cooked a delicious
supper for the children that
night, for the circus had put
her in extra good humor.

As it was the first of the
really cool evenings, she sur-
prised them with hot cocoa
in the place of their usual
glasses of milk, and there was
: cream toast, and cold chicken
and tongue sliced daintily together.

The children had famous appetites, and Mr. Blake
said he expected by spring they would all be as fat as
Sausage herself.

“Not if you carry out all the plans I have for mak-
ing you work and keeping you out-of-doors,” said the
Doctor.

“What? What are we going to do? Is there a sur-
prise?” asked Dodo eagerly, reluctantly setting down
her teacup. ‘School takes so much time and the rest
of it is nearly all dark. Oh! I smell waffles!”

“ What is nearly all dark,—the school, or the time,
or the waffles ?” asked the Doctor, as soon as the laugh,
caused by Dodo’s mixed-up sentences, had stopped.

22





WAFFLES AND A WALK 23

“J mean that night comes nowadays very soon after
we come home from school. Why are the days so short
in winter, Uncle Roy, just when we need the sun to
warm us, and so long and hot in summer when we
want to be cool?”

“ Why, it’s the other way round,” said Rap; “it is
because the sun stays up so long in spring and sum-
mer that the days are warm, and because it comes so
late, and hurries to bed, that the days are cold.”

“But why does the sun stay longer some times than
others? Why need the days ever be so very short?”

“Your supper would grow cold if I stopped to
explain,” said the Doctor. “Some day we must make
ourselves into a class in astronomy and learn how
the sun, moon, and stars all go bowling about in
the sky, and how the old earth looked when she was
young.”

“There is the moon now. Oh, how fat it is to-
night,” said Dodo, looking toward a window where the
curtains had not been drawn.

“The hunter’s moon,” said Mr. Blake, “and many a
good time I’ve had by the light of it.”

“Why is it called hunter’s moon, daddy,” asked
Dodo, “and what did you do with the light of it?”

“It is the moon that comes in October when all the
game birds and wild food and fur beasts are through
raising their families, and it is fair for House People
who need fur or food to go and hunt them.”

“Did you ever need food and fur, daddy?” per-
sisted Dodo.

“Yes, sometimes I really did; and should have
starved except for my gun and what it brought me;



24 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

and sometimes perhaps I thought I did,” said Mr. Blake,
looking at the Doctor, who was shaking with laughter.

“Did you ever shoot anything just to see if you
could hit it?” asked Nat.

“Yes; I’m afraid I did often, before I had travelled
over the wild west country and learned for myself that
shooting food and fur beasts to ‘see what you can hit,’
is making this wonderful land of ours as bare of four-
footed things as it will be of birds.”

“Say, Mis’ Cherry, can de young uns hab a spoon 0’
jam ‘long o’ dere waffles?” asked Mammy Bun in what
was meant to be a whisper, popping her head in at the
door.

“Tm afraid not, to-night, mammy,” said Mrs. Blake,
whose girlish name of Cherry, mammy still used.
“We should have the children dreaming of Buffaloes
and Indians and rolling out of bed. Waffles are quite
enough.”

“But Mammy Bun’s waffles are such well-behaved
things that they never hurt anybody,” said Olive.

“Yes,” echoed Dodo, “mammy says it’s all in the
beating up; if you beat waffles ever so hard when
yow’re making them, theyll never talk back after you
eat them. I know something that does talk back,
though — it’s turnips if you eat them raw like apples,
and chew rather quick and then drink water. Oh, it
was dreadful !”

“So, missy has been having indigestion, has she?”
laughed the Doctor.

“Yes; if that name means that inside your chest is

too big for your skin. What makes indigestion, Uncle
Roy?”



WAFFLES AND A WALK 25

“Indigestion comes when the food you eat is not of
the right kind or quality for your stomach mill to turn’
into good flesh and blood. Then it stays in the mill,
swelling up, growing stale and sour, choking up the
little wheels, and souring the wheel grease that helps
them move, causing pain and sickness, until it is turned
out in some way. That is the reason why we should
be careful what we put into the mill.

“To make sure that mammy’s waffles do not grumble,
suppose we all take a little walk down the road before
we go into the wonder room to draw the animal tree.
“ Come, Cherry,” said the Doctor, drawing Mrs. Blake’s
hand through his arm, “you, too. I’m not going to
have you stay in the house all the time. We need you,
and you need the fresh air to give you back the red
cheeks that gave you your pet name. Olive, dear,
please get your aunt’s warm wrap — never mind gloves ;
here is a coat-pocket for each hand,” and the proces-
sion stepped out into the bright moon path.

“There will be no frost until this wind dies down,”
said Mr. Blake.

“What nice clean shadows the trees make,” said
Olive, after they had walked in silence down a lane that
led from the turnpike toward the pastures and spring.

“Hush ! what was that?”

“A bird, maybe, that was sleepy and fell off its
pexch.”’

“No, a Flying Squirrel,” whispered the Doctor.
“There it goes!’’ and on looking up they saw a dark
object, a little larger than a Chipmunk, half spring,
half drop from a birch tree on one side of the lane to
a maple on the opposite side.



26 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Can Squirrels fly? I thought only birds could do
that,” whispered Dodo, awe-struck.

“Took yonder, but keep very still,” said Mr. Blake,
holding back some branches that hid the view of the
spring.

“Tt is a little dog drinking,” said Nat. “What a
bushy tail he has. See, he is going over toward the
barns ; perhaps he is a friend of Quick, or Mr. Wolf.”

“No, it is a Fox, and he is going to see where the
chickens live.”

“A Fox!’ screamed Dodo, forgetting the need for
silence. “A real wild animal! Oh, uncle, do let us
catch it |”

“J very much wish you would,” said the Doctor,
as the Fox raised one paw, sniffed the air, and disap-
peared like magic between some low bushes. -

“He is the most cunning of our. beasts, and if the
wind had been the other way, he would not have given
us-even this peep at him.”

“ What difference does the wind make?” asked Nat.
“Ts he afraid of it?”

“JT know,” said Rap; “for before my leg was hurt
I went often with the miller and his dog to hunt Foxes
that stole his turkeys. Little wild beasts look for
food mostly at night, or late in the afternoon, or early
in the morning, when it isn’t so easy to see, so they use
their smeller to tell them a great many things that
they can’t see with their eyes. They can smell so well
that if the wind was blowing from us to them they
would know we are here and would run away.”

“That is right, my lad,” said the Doctor. “The
wild beasts have a much keener sense of smell and

?



WAFFLES AND A WALK 27

hearing than we House People, and you will do well
when you wish to watch even a Squirrel to keep from
stepping on a dry leaf and to see which way the wind
blows.”

“Only think, we’ve seen a real wild animal,” chuckled
Dodo to Nat.

“Tye seen a Coon and a Muskrat and a Mink,” said
Rap, “ besides Foxes and Squirrels.”

“T know what Mink is,” said Dodo; “it’s nice
brown fur, and I have some of it on my winter coat.

“Uncle Roy is going to take us to the old log camp in
the Owl woods some day, and there are fur beasts up
around there, he says.”

“ Daddy has been all about the wild west country on
business, and he has seen dreadful fierce, wild animals,
and he is going to tell us about them by and by. You
know daddy goes round to find out about the country .
and look for mines that are hidden in the ground,”
explained Nat to Rap, “and that’s why we haven’t seen
much of him for along time. You see mines are often
in very savage places, and now daddy is staying here
this winter to write down all he has seen and draw
plans for people to work by in the spring.”

“Oh, then your father is a miner,” said Rap ; “I’ve
read about them.”

“No, a miner is the man that digs with a pick and
shovel; daddy is the one who digs with his brain and
tells the miner how to work so that the earth won’t
fall in on him, and how to cut away the rock and get
to the treasure. Daddy is what they call a Mining
Engineer!” and Nat stopped suddenly, as if the two
big words were too much for him.



28 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Some day I suppose you will go with him and see
all these things. It zs nice to have two legs,” said
Rap, half sadly, looking at his crutch.

“Never mind; we will be partners. JZ will go out
and hunt, and yow shall write the book about it the way
uncle does, for I don’t like to write.”

“T do,” said Rap, cheering up; “that will be splen-
did.”

“Don’t try to walk through the fence,” said Olive.

Then the children found that they had been so busy
talking that they did not realize they were walking
back toward the farm, until they had bumped into the
front fence instead of opening the gate.

The log fire in the wonder room was not a bit too
warm, and as they gathered around it Mr. Wolf and
Quick came in from the kitchen licking their lips, as if
they had been so busy with supper that they had not -
missed their friends.

Wolf settled himself at Mrs. Blake’s feet with all the
dignity of a St. Bernard, but Quick kept prancing and
springing from one to another with Fox-Terrier ner-
vousness.

“In the spring when we began to learn about birds,
I told you a few facts about their bones and feathers,
the way in which they were made and for what they
were useful,” said Dr. Roy, sitting at his desk and tip-
ping back his chair. “We found the bird was a good
American citizen, and I think you feel now as if you
really had a bowing acquaintance with some of these
feathered folk.”

“Yes,” said Dodo, “I forget some things you said
about them for a while, and then I remember again.



WAFFLES AND A WALK 29

We saw a Screech Owl in the woods yesterday, and I
remembered its name right off, and that it was one of
the good Owls that mustn’t be shot.”

“Good girl, that encourages your old uncle to tell
you more stories this winter about some of the other
creatures that are branches of the wonderful animal
tree.”

Nat and Rap brightened up, and Olive said she
could not imagine anything pleasanter for winter even-
ings.

“But we have to do our lessons in the evenings,”
said Nat, dolefully.

“Uncle Roy will manage it somehow,” said Dodo,
shaking her head confidently; “there is a surprise
somewhere, I know. Ive been expecting it.” At this
Mr. and Mrs. Blake and the Doctor smiled, but said
nothing.

“Uncle Roy,” persisted Dodo, after a pause, “ won’t
you do as you did with the birds, and tell us about
the wild American animals instead of about menagerie
beasts, and then make us a book about them? There
must be as many as fifty kinds of usual animals in
America, counting all those in the west country. T’m
so tired of menagerie beasts —

“¢T, is for Lion who roars in his rage,
T is for Tiger who snarls in his cage,’

that was on my picture blocks when I was a little child.
I had picture books of Cockatoos and other strange
birds, too, but they never seemed to mean anything
until you told us about our American birds.”

“You are right, Dodo,” said the Doctor, “and you



30 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

have given me some new ideas for my surprise. Yes,
there is a surprise hiding somewhere near! We are
to have a winter camp here at the farm, and the
stories told at the campfire shall all be about four-
footed Americans, with a few about some no-footed
and wing-handed ones thrown in.”



IV

CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE




“SSPLENDID!” cried Nat and Rap to-
gether, as soon as they realized what
Dr. Roy said. “ When shall we have
the stories?”

“What isa campfire? Is it made
of logs or coal?” asked Dodo.

“Where are you going to have
the camp? Here in the wonder
room?” asked Olive, who :cwas as
much surprised as her cousins.

“What are no-footed Americans, fishes?” persisted
Dodo.

“Wishes have no feet, and yet these no-footed beasts
are not fishes. The Americans you shall hear about
will all be our blood brothers, the Mammals — the
highest branch of the animal tree, the one that I
said has so many smaller branches that it seems almost
like a whole tree by itself.”

“M—mammals; m—milk,” said Dodo, proud at
not having forgotten. “But, Uncle Roy, we can’t
see all these M— mammals outdoors, as we did the
birds, and there aren’t any here in your wonder room.
How can we tell how they look?”

“You will probably see some of the smaller ones

31



32 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

this winter, just as you saw the Fox to-night. I
have the skins of others packed away in chests; and
some you must learn to know by pictures, until you
have a chance to see them in the Zoo or in a Museum.

“No more questions to-night. You will hear more
about the surprise to-morrow. Now I must try to
tell you how to climb the animal tree, so that you may
step easily from branch to branch and have a general
understanding of its groups and families.”

“This will be harder than learning about bones
and feathers that built the bird.”

“Yes and no! When you began to learn the
geography of our country, what was the first map
you saw, Nat? A map of one state, with all the
mountains, rivers, cities, and towns, large and small?”

*“ Ah, no, uncle; a plain, easy map of the whole of
North America, with only the very big chief moun-
tains, rivers, and land divisions put down. It took
us a long time only to learn the names of the states
and how they were bounded; then by and by we
took them in groups, until at this school we are hav-
ing each state by itself.”

“Precisely. Now, in drawing this animal tree, I
will not put down all small branches and twigs, but
merely the chief branches, so that you may have what
is called a ‘general idea’ of the whole. Then from
time to time you can study by itself any branch that
particularly interests you.

“Now watch,” said the Doctor, drawing rapidly on
a large sheet of cardboard. “Your old uncle is no
draughtsman, but this will do for a beginning, and I
will copy it neatly by and by, so that we can hang



CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE 83

it on the wall of our camp. This animal tree has a
straight trunk, and first come eight branches.”

«Ah! Ah!” cried Dodo. “Mother! Daddy !
Come and look! Uncle is making each branch end
in an animal, so we can see with one peep where
they belong, and the little first animal that belongs to
the trunk hasn’t any more shape than an ink blot !

‘What is that queer little spot, uncle? Has it
a name? Ah! now you are writing the name on
each branch,” chattered Dodo.

After everybody had looked at the sketch of the
animal tree, the Doctor hung it up on the door, and
said he would try to answer a few of their questions
about it.

“These,” said the Doctor, pointing to the lower
branches of the tree that he had drawn, “are the
animals which have no backbones, — Invertebrates, the
Wise Men call them,—and though I do not want
to trouble you with long names, you must try to
remember this one, because it is important and you
will meet it often in reading.

“With these branches begin the lowest forms of
animal life. This little thing on the trunk that Dodo
called an ink blot is the very first form of animal life,
it is called a Protozodén, and it is really so ermal that
you could not, see it without a microscope.”

“That is a. pretty big name for next-to-nothing,
said Rap.

“Yes; but the name, like many of those the Wise
Men give, explains the meaning. It comes from the
Greek words protos (first) and zodn (animal), so among

ourselves we will call the trunk of the tree the first
D



34 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

animal, as it is the first step from the vegetable to
the animal kingdom.”

“Tf it is so small and has so little body, how can
you tell it isn’t a vegetable?” asked Olive.

“Tt is very difficult indeed to distinguish between
the lower forms of animal and vegetable life, and we
must leave the reason why to the Wise Men; for it
puzzles them very often, and I could not explain it
without using long words.”

“Why, Uncle Roy,” said Dodo, “I know a real
simple reason, —animals can move and plants can’t!”

“Wrong, missy; many of the lower animals cannot
move. The coral, for instance, and the oysters, are as
much fixtures as the geraniums in their pots over by
the window.

“But to return to our animal tree. Besides having
no backbones, these lower animals have no_ hearts,
lungs, or brains; they are not built around a bony
skeleton, as birds are or we ourselves. Their vital
parts are held in a single tube. These animals are
of various shapes and live in many ways and _ places,
—on the earth, in the water, and in mud. Among
the lower branches of the animal tree, you will find
things that are familiar to you, though you probably
never have thought what they were, whether animals
or vegetables.

“To repeat all the names, even of the animals that
belong on each branch, would confuse and tire you
sadly, so I will only tell you of some of the principal
kinds that you are most likely to see, to act as steps, so
to speak, by which you may climb to the branch where
our four-footed Americans live.



CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE 385

“On the next branch to the trunk, or First Animal,
belong the Sponges; they are plant-like water animals
that cannot move. Then the Jelly Fishes and Sea
Anemones, which are masses of clear, jelly-like stuff
floating in the sea, and many of these are beautifully
colored.”

“T saw some Jelly Fish when we were at the shore this
summer,” said Dodo. “I walked on some, and though
they felt so slimy they sort of made my feet tingle.”

“Olive,” said the Doctor, “suppose you take out the
blackboard and write the names of these lower branches
who have no backbones.”

THE TRUNK AND SOME OF THE LOWER BRANCHES
OF THE ANIMAL TREE

Protozoa or The trunk. The lowest form of animal life,
First Animals body; asingle cell. Most of them too small
to be seen without microscope.

1. Sponges .... Plant-like water animals that cannot move.

2. Jelly Fishes . . Round masses of clear, jelly-like stuff floating in
the sea. Sea Anemones, etc.

3. Corals ..... The white, lace-like specimens that you have
seen in cabinets, or the polished pink sprays
that are made into ornaments or carved into
beads. You may have thought these some
sort of stones, but corals are tiny, soft-bodied
animals living in cases made of lime. Many
of these cases built up close together form the
beautiful shapes that you know.

4. Star Fishes'. . The five-pointed prickly animals found on sea
beaches. Sea Urchins, etc. Crinoids, etc.
5. Worms..... Long squirming animals, of both land and

water; also living as parasites upon the in-
sides of other animals.



36 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

6. Mollusks. .. . Shell Fish, such as Oysters, Clams and Mussels,
Snails, Slugs, Cuttle Fish, etc.
7. Crustaceans .. Animals covered with a hard shell, having

many legs and a pair of feelers, or antenna,
breathing through gills the air that is dis-
solved in the water. Lobsters, Crabs, etc.,

are Crustaceans.
8. Spiders and (Called Arachnide, from Arachue, the Spinner,
Scorpions ... because they spin webs.) Are a sort of
cousin to Crabs, but live on the earth instead

of in the water.

“The top branches of this group contain the Insects,
with many legs, their bodies being divided into three
parts. Insects go through many changes in the course
of development. Take the butterfly as an example.
First an egg is laid by a fully grown butterfly ; second,
a caterpillar is hatched from the egg; third, the cater-
pillar spins itself into a chrysalis, or cocoon, out of
which comes the winged butterfly. Ants, mosquitoes,
flies, and beetles are all insects.

‘Among the next circle of branches we find the ani-
mals having backbones, the Vertebrates. I think you
will feel more at home with them, and we are more
nearly concerned with them now, as our mammals be-
long in this order, although there are many things you
must some day learn of the many backboneless twigs,
especially about the insects with their wonderful wings
and stings.”

“T suppose my Rattlesnake is a rather low-down Ver-
tebrate, Uncle Roy,” said Nat.

‘*No, my boy, there are two grades below him and
two above. See,”—and the Doctor drew a branch
with five divisions.





SIVWIAVIN

SALVYUGSLYSA



VERTEBRATE BRANCHES OF THE ANIMAL TREE.

37



388 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

THE VERTEBRATE BRANCHES OF THE ANIMAL
TREE
ANIMALS HAVING BACKBONES

Animals with bony skeletons; never having more than two
pairs of limbs. These animals inhabit both land and water, and’
may either swim, fly, crawl, or walk.

Fishes .... Cold-blooded animals that live in water; usually
covered with scales. They breathe through gills,
and in their fins we see the very beginnings of
limbs.

Frogs, etc. . . (Amphibians.) Going through several transforma-
tions, from egg to perfect animal, but having legs
when fully grown. The stepping-stones between
fishes and reptiles.

Reptiles . . . Cold-blooded, egg-laying animals, either with a shell
or scaly covering, living on land or in the water;
some kinds doing both. They have simple, three-
chambered hearts. Alligators, Turtles, and Snakes
are Reptiles.

Birds ..... Warm-blooded, air-breathing animals. They are
covered with feathers, have four-chambered hearts,
and the young are hatched from eggs.

Mammals .. The highest order of animals. Warm-blooded, air-
breathing, having a four-chambered heart and
double circulation. The young are born alive and
nourished by their mother’s milk. Mammals are
all more or less covered with hair. The Whale,
Seal, Cat, Cow, Dog, Rabbit, Mouse, Bat, Monkey,
and Man are Mammals.

“The Mammal branch is so large and important and
has so many small branches and twigs of its own that
by and by I shall make you a tree of it by itself.”

‘Are you going to draw the Mammal tree to-night?”
asked Dodo, anxiously. “Because I think my head is
as full of thinking as it will hold.”



CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE 39

“No, missy, not another word to-night; it is half-
past eight, and your mother has been making ‘time-to-
go-to-bed’ signs at me for half an hour.”

“But, mother,” pleaded Dodo, “though my head is
full, my stomach feels real hollow, and we were going
to toast crackers, you know.”

“Very well! Nat, rake open the hot ashes and see
if you can find another pair of tongs. Two crackers
and a glass of milk make a very comfortable night-
cap; for if you go to bed with an empty stomach, you
will probably wake up with an empty head,” said the
Doctor, rubbing his hands together. ‘Am I invited to
this feast?”

“Of course; you and mother and daddy. Olive
belongs with us children. It wouldn’t be a real feast
without you all,” said Dodo, a look of perfect content
resting on her round face.

“Here are three pairs of tongs. Nat, you toast for
mamma, and Rap for uncle, and I'll toast for papa and
Olive; then afterwards we can toast for each other.
It’s lots more fun doing it for somebody else, and then
having somebody do it for you.”

In a moment the three children were crouching in
front of the fire, holding the crackers by the rims with
old-fashioned tongs, over the bed of glowing hickory
fragments.

“The crackers that fall into the fire belong to the
dogs,” said Dodo, consolingly, to Rap, who had just
dropped his first one. “They don’t mind a few
ashes.”

“Here is mammy with the big pitcher,” said the
Doctor. ‘Now all stand in a row and drink a health,



a) FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

in milk, to home, and the blood-brothers whose
acquaintance we are to make—the Four-looted
Americans.”

“Ts Rap going to stay here all night?” asked Nat,
as they put down their glasses.

“No; his mother would worry. Your father and I
will walk home with him; we have some things to tallk
over.”

“Ts it anything to do with the surprise?” asked
Dodo.

“Miss Inquisitive, if you poke your precious nose
so far into things, some day it may be shut in the crack
of a door,” laughed her father.

“Ah! the wind has fallen and the frost has come.
I’m glad Rod covered those pumpkins,” said the
Doctor, who was already out on the porch.

“Then we can go nutting to-morrow,” said Nat,
capering. “Come up early, Rap.”

“We shall go nutting to-morrow, but Rap need not
come up ; we will call for him,” said the Doctor.

“But the chestnuts are all up this way,” persisted
Dodo. :

“I did not say we were going chestnutting,” replied
the Doctor, closing the door so suddenly, that if Dodo’s
nose had been anything longer than a pug it might
really have been squeezed in the crack.

“MM —mammals; m—milk,”’ she half sang, half
whispered, as she stumbled sleepily up to bed, hanging
on her mother’s arm.



Vv

AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY

yy TEN Nat awoke the next
morning, he lay quite still
for a moment, rubbing his
eyes and wondering what
it was that he was trying
to remember.

He did not seem to be in
any more of a hurry to get
up than the sun, who was
only beginning to peep

through the most southerly corner of the orchard trees,
instead of being up above them at this hour, as had
been his habit all summer.

Nat finally opened his eyes and looked toward the
window, still half dreaming about Wild West Shows,
animal trees, and four-footed Americans, wondering
why the light was so speckled. Then as he saw the
frost crystals that covered the panes with their beauti-
ful fern traceries, it all came back like a flash, and he
jumped out, shouting, ‘ There’s been a hard frost, and
we are to go nutting to-day, and hear about the
surprise |”

At the same moment Dodo’s sturdy fist pounded on
the door. Bang, bang, bang! ‘“ Aren’t you up yet,
41





42 ' FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Nattie? I am, and all dressed.” Bang. “My boots
laced to the very top, and my teeth cleaned with
powder.” Bang, bang, bang! Lacing her boots and
cleaning her teeth were usually two weak spots in
Dodo’s toilet, and the fact that she had done both so
early in the morning made Nat feel sure that some-
thing unusual was afoot.

“Yes, I’m up,” said Nat, “and I’ll be ready in a
minute.”

“Father says, put on your thick very old clothes,
and the old boots with the scraped skin.”

“Where are we going? Was there a big frost ?”
spluttered Nat, struggling with his sponge full of water.

“Uncle Roy said he would tell when we are all
dressed. I can’t seem to make Olive hurry one bit,
and breakfast will be at seven, and it’s a quarter to,
now. Only look out, and you'll see what kind of a
frost there was,’ —and Nat could hear the squeak and
flop that she made as she slid down the bannisters and
landed on the rug at the foot of the stairs.

He wiped off the frost with his towel and looked
out. Near the house everything was glittering with
diamonds, for Jack Frost had only fingered the nearby
things, but down in the low pasture by the spring the
blackened ferns showed where he had walked with his
heaviest boots. There was quite a commotion and
bustle over by the barns. The long market wagon
with all three seats screwed in place was pulled out of
its shed, and Rod was putting bundles of straw in the
bottom. Mysterious baskets stood about, and in one
Nat thought he saw a tea-kettle. Who was that man
in a queer furry-looking cap, thick short coat, and leg-





AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 43

gins buttoned up to his knees? Nat looked again and
then exclaimed to himself, “ Why, it’s daddy, and the
other humpy-looking man is uncle!” Then he hurried
on with dressing as the only means of solving the
mystery.

This morning there was a roaring fire in the Franklin
stove in the dining-room. ‘This stove, which is a sort
of open fireplace on legs that stands out a little way
from the chimney, throws more heat into the room
than a hearth fire.

“Now,” said the Doctor, coming in with his arm
around Olive, who met him in the hall, “hold your ears
wide open and stand away from the table so that you
will not break the china.

“We are going to the far-away hickory woods, where
we expected to go on Dodo’s birthday to look for owls !
Stop a moment! that is not all. Instead of taking
sandwiches and such things for lunch we are going to
take pots and pans and food and play camp-out and
cook our dinner and supper in the woods, and come
home by moonlight !”

“That will be fine,” said Olive. “I half expected
this last night.”

“Jolly!” cried Nat. .

“ But,” said practical Miss Dodo, “if we are to cook,
Mammy Bun will have to go, and being out after dark
will make her grumble about her bones.”

“Tam the c-oo-k who is going with you to-day,” said
Mr. Blake, coming in; “and a very good cook, too,
I can tell you.”

“Why, daddy,” exclaimed both children, “can you
cook, and out in the woods, without any stove, too?”



44 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Indeed I can, and many’s the day that your Uncle
Roy and I have not only had to cook for ourselves, but
catch or shoot our own provisions, and as for stoves —
we often hadn’t even a bough wind-break over us, and
slept on the ground in our blankets.”

“On the ground? And wasn’t it wet, and didn’t
things bite you? Ah, what is that? Come, look out
here, Uncle Roy. Wolf and Quick have caught some
kind of a wild beast. It’s too small for a Fox. What
is it?”

“One of the big Woodchucks who would not go
in the trap we set in the rocky pasture, and who is
rather late in holing up. ‘They generally go to sleep
for the winter before hard frost.”

“Why don’t they freeze?” said Dodo. “You told
us once that it was very extra dangerous to go to sleep
out doors in cold weather, — that we would freeze in a
twinkling.”

“Ts that beast one of the four-footed Americans you
are going to tell us about?” asked Nat. “What queer
long teeth he has: two upper and two under ones, with
straight edges, and no little pointed ones like our eye-
teeth. Do the four-footed Americans belong to guilds
the same as the birds do, Uncle Roy ?”

“Yes, my boy; and those four powerful teeth show
to what guild the Woodchuck belongs, —the greatest
guild among the Mammals, — the Gnawers.

“Mother is coming,” said Dodo, going to the stairs
to meet her, as Mammy Bun came in the opposite door
with the coffee-pot. ‘Now everything is started,
*cause nothing really begins right end up until mother
comes ! ”









THE WOODCHUCK.





Se

AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY AGB

The Doctor would not let the children hurry their
breakfast, and Mr. Blake said, “Eat all you can now,
for you may not like my cooking.”

« Are you not going to take some cake or bread, or
at least cold chicken?” asked Mrs. Blake.

“No, dear; not even bread. Ginger cookies are the
only cooked food allowed. I want to give the children
a nibble at the way people live who explore, or hunt,
or for any other reason take to a wild life. Don’t
worry; we shall neither starve nor be out quite all
night, though it may be late before we return.”

Tom and Jerry were harnessed to the farm wagon,
so Comet was left home by himself. “You see this
wagon is only suitable for stowt horses,” said ‘Tom, with
a wink to his mate, as they drove round to the house.

“Are you sure you have everything?” asked Mrs.
Blake, anxiously.

“T will give you a list of our belongings: a tea-
kettle, a coffee-pot, a frying-pan, and a small tin kettle,
six tin plates, cups, knives and forks, salt, pepper,
sugar, coffee, flour, part of a ham, a dozen eggs, a small
bag of potatoes, a quart of beans, a ball of stout cord,
my shot-gun, a small axe, a shovel, and plenty of
matches.”

“’Pears like you uns was calkerlatin’ to plant a gar-
din, wif beans and p’taters and a shovel,” chuckled
Mammy Bun, who was never far away when a picnic
was about to start. “For de law’s sakes, Massa Doctor,
do fetch along a jar o’ sas,—all dem vittles am chokin’
dry!”



e
“Mr. Blake is the cook, and you know, mammy, cooks
don’t like to be interfered with.”



46 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“No mo’ do they,” she chuckled.

They stopped at Rap’s house and found him waiting,
with a feed-bag, all ready for the nuts he expected to
get.

“ Which way are the hickory woods?” asked Olive ;
“toward the shore or inland?”

“Tnland and almost twenty miles due north of here.
There was a logging camp there years ago. I am sure
that you have never been in that direction.” -

“Ts there any river in the woods?” asked Rap.
“Perhaps we may see some wild ducks.”

“There is a strong, swift river beyond where we are
going, though I am not sure that we shall get so far to-
day, but there is a small river and pond near the hick-
ory woods, where you may see ducks. It is by the big
river that the lumber camp is, where Olaf expects to
stop for a few months this winter.”

Some of the trees that were almost covered the day
before had dropped their leaves entirely after the hard
frost, and the Red Squirrels were chattering and running
along the stone fences. One little fellow was carrying
a nut in each cheek, and looked very comical, as if he
either had the mumps or a toothache.

“JT never noticed before how many Squirrels there
are about here. I suppose because the leaves hid them.
Are they Mammals, Uncle Roy, and what guild do they
belong to?” asked Dodo.

“Yes, they are Mammals, and they belong to the
same guild as the Woodchuck, — the Gnawers. Watch
that little fellow as he sits up and turns the nut about
with his paws, which he uses quite as we do our



AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 47

hands. See how quickly he gnaws through the hard
shell.”

“So he does,” cried Nat.

“Chipmunks gnawed up a lot of our seckle pears
this year before they were ripe,” said Rap. “ They
seemed to want the seeds, for they left the fruity part
chipped up all over the grass under the tree.”

“That is one of their habits; in fact, the bad habit
of the whole guild, that they destroy much more than
they need for food.”

‘Most of the little beasts hereabouts belong to the
Gnawers, don’t they, Doctor!” asked Rap. “Squirrels,
Chipmunks, Muskrats, Rats, Mice, Woodchucks, Rab-
bits, and all such things ?”

“ Yes, all those belong to the Gnawers, and some of
them we call vermin, or, as Dodo says, ‘ Nuisance Ani-
mals,’ who do more harm than good. Yet many of
them are wonderfully intelligent, and it seems hard
sometimes to say that we should kill even one of these
little mischief-makers.

“The great balance wheel of Nature is so carefully
made and well planned by its Maker that we must
always touch it reverently.”

“What do you mean by balance wheel, Uncle Roy?”
asked Nat.

“This, my lad. In this world of ours nothing, from
the least grain of sand to the strongest animal, was
made for itself alone. Each thing depends upon some
other thing, which is equally dependent in its own turn.
So we may compare this plan to a wheel which, though
it is made of many different parts, — hub, spokes, rim,
and tire, — would not be a useful, perfect wheel if even



48 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

a single spoke were missing, so much does the strength
of the whole depend on even the least part. We may
think that this animal or that is of no use, until we
find by experience that it filled its place as a small but
important spoke in this life-wheel.”

“ But, father,” said Olive, “it is surely necessary for
us to kill Rats and Mice and other nuisance animals?”

“Certainly, we must kill them now because the
balance wheel has been so disturbed that these animals
have multiplied out of their due proportion and we have
made ourselves responsible for their increase. This is
a penalty man has to pay in many ways for eating of
the fruit of the tree of knowledge. He has to labor to
accomplish many things that Heart of Nature intended
doing for him.”

“Then maybe if people hadn’t shot so many Owls
and good Cannibal Birds, it would have helped keep
down the nuisance animals,” ventured Dodo. ‘Oh,
uncle, what are those funny little haystacks down in
the water in the marsh meadow?”

“Muskrat huts. Stop a minute, Olive, and let us
look at them,” said the Doctor, shading his eyes with
his hands. “The animals who make their homes in
those haystacks, as Dodo calls them, are very curious
as well as both mischievous and useful. They look
like something between the Woodchuck the dogs
brought in this morning and a great Rat. They are
a little under a foot long, and they can swim as fast
as a Duck. Their front toes have long claws for
scratching, and their back toes webs for swimming:
They live in the banks of rivers and ponds in summer,
and retire into these huts, made of rushes and old weeds,



AN AUTUMN WOLIDAY 49

before winter. They will suck eggs and steal poultry
like common Rats. They have a stiff, hairy-looking
coat, but underneath it is soft, beautiful fur. Why,
that old cap your father is wearing is Muskrat fur —
where did you get it, Blake?”

“Out West, with many other such things to keep out
cold. But this is only the common uncolored skin ;





Front Paw anp Tain oF Muskrat.

the furriers dye it a soft brown, selling it for French
seal,—and a very pretty fur it is, too, for caps and
mittens.”

“There seem to be a good many wild animals about
here, even though it’s a pretty tame place —I mean a
civilized place,” said Nat, correcting himself. “I never
thought that we should find fur beasts so near home.
I'd like to see into one of those Muskrat houses, uncle.”

‘And so you shall, as soon as it is cold enough for
the water that surrounds it to be frozen so that we can
walk tothem. The story of that animal and his cousin,
the Beaver, is enough to fill a book all by itself.”’

E



50 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

After they had jogged along a fairly level road for
a couple of hours, the children asking questions and
begging to get out at intervals, to pick up some par-
ticularly nice apple that had fallen outside a fence and
been passed by in the general harvest, they turned into
a lane road with turf between the wheel tracks. The
ground now began to rise in a zig-zag fashion between
a wall of hemlock and pine trees, under which were
mats of ground pine, partridge berry, and wintergreen.

Whirr-whirr, and a pair of large brownish birds flew
up from the roadside and disappeared in some bushes.

“What were those birds as big as chickens?”
screamed Dodo. “Oh, why didn’t some one catch
them? They went right by your nose, Olive !”

“J think partly because I was as much surprised as
they were,” laughed Olive.

“As fine a pair of Ruffed Grouse as one could wish
for dinner,” said Mr. Blake.

“ Ah, papa, you wouldn’t eat them?” wailed Dodo.

“Why not, girlie? They are game birds made for
food; their nesting is over, and this is the season that
the Wise Men say we may take them by fair hunting.”

“What is fair hunting? I don’t think any hunting
is fair.”

“Using no trap or snare, but following the game
afoot, if it be birds with gun and dog, killing no more
than you need. If it is a Deer, Elk, Moose, or Ante-
lope, using your own -perseverance and rifle without a
dog, and never taking a doe or fawn unless absolute
starvation stares you in the face.”

“But if you are trying to kill nuisance animals?”
asked Rap.



EE

AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 61

“Then use gun, trap, snare, poison, or any other
means you have; but never put a nuisance animal to
ee leave even a rat to die miserably in a
trap.”

“J guess I'll let you do my hunting for me, daddy,”
said Dodo, duly impressed. “1d rather not kill any-
thing myself.”

“And J had much rather you would not,” said Mr.
Blake, putting his arm around her. “ Keep your little
heart tender. There is greater need for such things
than for game and guns in this world nowadays, little
daughter. I would not now willingly kill a big game
animal myself and see the light fade from its bright
eyes and the last flutter of its breast.”

“Tt wouldn’t be any harm if we learned how to shoot,
would it, daddy?” asked Nat. “’Way back in the sum-
mer Uncle Roy said perhaps you would teach me some
time, and Rap, too,” for the boys had long since become
inseparable.

“Certainly, you shall learn this very fall. Every
man should know how to shoot and handle a gun prop-
erly, if need requires. Shooting game fairly is a manly
art, and it is also a manly art to know when and what
not to shoot.”

“See the river,” said Dodo. “You called it little,
but it is much bigger and swifter than our river. Oh,
what a queer bridge, and all the evergreen trees are on
the rocks on one side, and great tall barky trees with
no leaves on the other.”

“This is the beginning of the hickory wood, where
we are going. It looks to me as if some one had been
making improvement here, since my day,” said the





52 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Doctor. ‘Though the biggest trees are gone, the dead
ones seem to have been taken away from year to year,
and the young growth encouraged.”

“Stop a minute, Olive; your father, Nat, and I will
walk this last mile; the road is too steep and rough
for a full load.”

“Ts the far west country wilder than this?” asked
Dodo, who of course wished to walk with the others,
holding tight to her uncle’s hand. “TI think it’s lonely
enough for Tigers here, if it was only warm enough.”

“Bless my heart, this is not wild! You have a road
to walk on; you know where you came from and where
you are going. To call a country really wild it must
have no roads, but only gaps or trails between the trees,
and often not even these, but you must cut a path for
yourself. You will more frequently know where you
wish to go than where you are going; and you are
never sure when, if ever, you will get back to the place
from which you started.”

“ What is that ahead? Smoke coming from the hill-
side. It must be from the charcoal-burner’s hut that
Olaf spoke of last summer. I supposed that was the
‘other side of the mountain, but I see the wood here is
about right for making charcoal.”

The Doctor and Dodo had fallen behind Mr. Blake
and Nat. When they overtook them they found that
the lane ended in some high hickory woods, and Mr.
Blake suggested they couldn’t find a better place to
halt and make their play camp.

While they were discussing where it would be°best
to tie the horses, a tall, thin, but wiry man, came noise-
lessly from among the trees and stood looking at the



AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 538

party. He had a long, straight nose like a. Fox, and
deep-set eyes ; his face was as brown as his beard, and
his clothes were very much like some of those worn by
the scouts in the Wild West Show, his shoes being
without seams, like moccasins.

In spite of his strange face and dress there was noth-
ing forbidding about him, and he had a pleasant smile
as he stepped noiselessly up.

“A woodsman, I know,” said Mr. Blake to himself,
scarcely looking at the man’s face, but judging by his
soft tread.

The man stood still a second, looking as if he saw
some familiar object, but from a great distance, and
then exclaimed, “I want to know!”

The Doctor and Mr. Blake both started forward, and
the strange man grasped each by the hand.

“Nez Long! Is it possible?” said the Doctor, clap-
ping him on the back with his free hand, while the
children stood looking on in amazement. Olive, how-
ever, knew who he was as soon as she heard the name,
and explained to the others, while the three men con-
tinued to talk eagerly.

Nez was a man from northern Maine whom her father

‘and uncle had known out West. He had been a trapper,

hunter, and cowboy, all by turns, and the head of a lum-
ber camp in Canada. The French Canadians called
him’ Nez Long, which means “long-nose” in their lan-
guage. He had once saved Mr. Blake’s life, when he
was almost crushed by a falling tree and in danger of
being torn by a bear, but how he came in the hickory
wood she of course did not know.

“Yes, I’m the charcoal-burner, I reckon, now, and



54 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

canoe-maker, too, and do a bit o’ huntin’ and trappin’
raound about, and raise some truck t’other side o’ the
woods, and get out railroad ties. Ive a camp 0’? my
own inside the first belt, and a wife, and she isn’t a
squaw neither, and two young uns. You see I’ve got
some property at last, Doc, in spite of being a sort of
wild Injun myself. We live in a log house, though ;
we'd choke in any other kind,—imy woman an’ me’s
agreed on that. She was ’YToinette Pardeau — old
Dominique’s daughter. You'll remember him; he was
your guide the day you got that thunderin’ big Bear.
All these your young uns, Jake?”

“What a queer man,” said Dodo. “And not very
polite. He calls Uncle Roy, Doe, and daddy, Jake. I
don’t think he is nice.” ;

“You must remember,” said Olive, “that he has
been with them in wild places and they have shared
danger, and worked and hunted together as if they
were brothers, and when men do this, the Mister drops
away from their names, and they feel to each other
as you and Nat and Rap do.”

“Of course they must,” said Dodo, repentantly, “and
he picked the tree off daddy ;” so, without hesitating,
she walked up to him, holding out her hand, and saying
solemnly, “ Good morning, Mr. Long Nose, I’m glad to
meet you and thank you very much for taking the tree
off daddy’s leg.”

“TI want to know!” stuttered Nez, more surprised
than if a Grizzly Bear had spoken to him.

livery one laughed then, and it did not take long to
explain why they were there, and how they were going
to cook dinner camp-fashion ; and Nat feeling the sud-



AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 55

den confidence in Nez that young people and dogs have
in those who really love them, said, “I’m going to
learn to shoot this winter and hear all about the wild
American animals, and sometimes you will let us come
to see you, won’t you, and you'll tell us stories?”

“Oh, do,” echoed Dodo, looking up at him with a
smile that generally had yes, as its reward, “and per-
haps you'll tell us just one story for dessert to-day.”

“Sure enough I will,” he answered; “and I'll set
you a camp and a fire all slick and ready while you’re
a-gettin’ your nuts. Then you can come over yonder,”
and without more ado he disappeared in the trees.

“Where are the nuts?” asked Dodo, looking up to
the sky.

“On the ground partly and in the trees mostly,”
said Olive. “If these trees in front of us had a good
shaking, we could pick up enough hickories to last all
winter.”

The horses were unharnessed, tethered to stumps
and blanketed; for in spite of the bright sun the air
was keen, and the wind had suddenly sprung up, scat-
tering the leaves and sending down quite a hailstorm
of nuts.

When Mr. Blake and the Doctor, climbing some of
the smaller trees, aided the wind in its work, the nuts
gave the gatherers such a pelting that they had to stop
until the squall was over.

“Tt’s almost too easy to be fun,” said Nat, as they
tied up the mouth of Rap’s bag, which was already
filed. “I think I’d rather hunt for things a little
longer.”

“Good boy,” said his father ; “that is the spirit that



56 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

makes a real sportsman, —the watching and waiting
and finding, not simply the greedy getting that makes
the selfish sort of man I call a Hunting Wolf.”

“You had better make the most of this easy nutting,
though,” said the Doctor, “for when it comes to pick-
ing up chestnuts, you will have to look and poke about
between the leaves and stones, I can tell you.”

“J wonder what Mr. Long Nose is doing, and how
he is going to fix our camp for us,” said Dodo, empty-
ing her little basket into the big one for the third time.
“J think we have enough now.”

“J thought there was some other reason for your
hurry beside the filling of the bags. I never knew
before that children could have too many nuts. But
dom’t call your friend Long Nose, Dodo; he has a real
name, though it was never used among his camp-mates.”

“What shall I call him then — Mr. Long?”

“No; simply Nez, pronounced as it is spelled; he
will understand it better, for if you called him Mister,
he would be put out, perhaps.”

“Oh, what a big Squirrel!” called Nat. “Twice as
large as those about the farm, and all one color, like a
Maltese cat, only a little browner. There is another,
and another yet, chasing about like anything! See,
Uncle Roy; up there!”

“Gray Squirrels, and fine ones, too. These are
exactly the sort of. woods that suit them; plenty of
hickories and beech trees, and water not far away.”

“How many kinds of American Squirrels are there ?”
asked Dodo, “and is the lining of mother’s coat made
of the fur of this gray kind?”

“There are sixty or seventy kinds in North



AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 57

America, but the Red, Gray, the big Fox Squirrel, and
the little Chipmunk, or Ground Squirrel, are the ones
most likely to interest you. The lining of your
mother’s coat is probably made of the skins of a
Russian Squirrel. Strange as it may seem, the skins
of our species are too thin and tender to let them go
in the list of valuable fur-bearing animals.”

“IT suppose they are like the Moleskin that Rod
gave me to make a muff for my doll. It cracked like
a piece of paper, and wouldn’t stay sewed well, and
it had a very queer smell that took a day to wash off
my hands. Why do some animals have such strange
smells, Uncle Roy ?”

“For two reasons. There are protective smells and
signal smells. ‘The Skunk’s odor belongs to this first
sort, and he uses his evil odor as a weapon of defence
and seems to thoroughly understand its power, for very
few of the large beasts of prey ever care to get within
range of it.

“The signal smells are as important to the Four-
footed People as speech is to House People. In fact,
the power of scent largely takes the place of speech
with them. What they lack in tongue is made up by
a wonderful keenness of ear and nose.

“A Fox goes through a lane and can tell by the
smell whether it is a dog who has been there before
him or a brother Fox. .The dog in his turn who fol-
lows knows by the scent where the Fox has gone and
can find him unless he crosses water.”

“Why can’t he follow him across water? Does it
wash away the smell?” asked Nat.

“Exactly, but —”



58 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“What is that terrible noise,” cried Olive, starting,
and they all listened, somewhat startled, while Dodo
crept close between her father and uncle, saying, “ It
must be a very wild sick cow that is hurt.”

“Tf we were in a swamp a couple of hundred miles
further north, instead of here in a hickory wood, I
should say it was either a cow Moose or else some one
imitating one,” said Mr. Blake.

“Why, it’s Nez, of course,” said Dr. Roy. “He used
to be one of the best Moose callers along the border.
He is ready for us to come up, and has taken that way
to call us, though we are not Moose.”

“Let’s go quick and see,” said Dodo, recovering her
courage, and hurrying the party along. ‘“ What are
Moose, and what do people call them for?” :

“Moose are the largest of our Deer. The cry we
have just heard is the cow Moose’s call to her mate.
Men who hunt the Moose imitate this call, and, the
bull (which is the name given male Moose and Elk)
comes hurrying up to meet, not his mate, but a bullet.”

“Do you call that fair hunting, daddy?” asked
Nat.

“No, I do not; unless the hunter is hungry and can-
not get food in any other way, it seems to me little bet-
ter than setting a trap. A sportsman should show his
skill in finding the Moose, not calling him by a trick.”

“ Yes,” said Nat, “I understand that. It’s the same
as if when we play hide-and-seek I wanted Dodo, and
instead of hunting for her I cried or did something to
make her come out, and then cried ‘I spy.’”

“ Look, father! Look there!” said Olive. ‘It’s
like the old days in Canada.”



AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 59

Ags they left the narrow footpath where they had
been walking in Indian file they stepped into an open
space from which all the trees had been cut, as well as
the underbrush. At the further side, with its back
against the hill toward the north, was a log-cabin with
small windows in the front and sides. A little way from
it was a sort of long shed, roofed with hemlock boughs,
under which was a grindstone, some tools, ete. In the
centre of the open square the earth was black, and there
were many ashes, as if a fire had often burned there.

At one side Nez himself was at work, axe in hand,
before a sort of tent made of two upright poles, and
a crosspiece against which he was laying hemlock
boughs. Not far from this two logs about five feet
long were placed side by side on the ground. The
upper side was shaved off; at one end they were about
four inches apart and at the other eight. Between this
was a line of glowing charcoal, kept from burning the
logs by the earth which was heaped against them. At
either end there was an upright stake, and a bar was.
laid between these so that it came about a foot and a
half above the fire. -



VI
OUT-DOOR COOKERY

{ETCH yer blankets. Thar’s
Yo syer lean-to and thar’s yer
stove,” said Nez, pointing to
the slanting hemlock roof
and the line of glowing
coals. “Now git out yer
kit and yer grub, and let’s
see what sort of a feed we
can cook up.”

“The woman and the
young uns are gone over the mountain to Chestnut
Ridge tradin’, but they’ll be home b’fore night. I’d be
pleased to have yer eat in the cabin b’yon’ there, but
yer seemed to want to play campin’.”

~The three children looked on in open-eyed wonder,
but Olive, who had some experience in woodcraft, be-
gan sorting and arranging the things that Mr. Blake,
the Doctor, and Nez brought up from the wagon.

First she put the food and cooking utensils on
planks near the fire, and then- spread the wagon
cushions at the back of the brush lean-to, and laid
some extra horse blankets upon them.

“YT wonder why uncle brought six blankets when
there are only two horses,” said Nat.

60





OUT-DOOR COOKERY 61

“We'll see before we get home,” said Dodo; “we
always do.”

Next Olive filled the tea-kettle from a pail of water
Nez brought from a spring on the hill above the cabin,
and hung it on the crossbar over the fire.

“JT know what that stick is for, anyway,” said Nat.

“ |’ve fixed sticks like that to hold a kettle, and I’ve
roasted chestnuts and potatoes in hot ashes,” said Rap ;
“put I can’t think what those two logs are for, and
why ee are fixed wider apart at one end than at
the other.”

“That is easily explained,” said Mr. Blake, begin-
ning to untie his packages of groceries. ‘You see
the bottom of the coffee-pot is smaller than the tin
kettle, and the frying-pan is larger than either. Now,
if we set the coffee-pot on the narrow end, it fits nicely,
but the kettle would not get enough heat, so that
stands where the logs are wider apart, and the frying-
pan further along; and if we wanted to cook some-
thing in a wire broiler, it could go at the very end.
Isn’t this log stove a great invention?”

“Y-e-s,” said thé children; “but what are you go-
ing to cook?”

“Roast the potatoes in the ashes, boil the coffee,
fry the ham and eggs in this pan, tie strings to the
stems of these apples and hang them on the rod by
the tea-kettle.

“We will begin with the. potatoes and apples,” said
Mr. Blake, “for they take the longest to cook. How
is it for game about here, Nez? I brought my gun,
thinking I might get a few Quail; but it’s taken us
so long to come up that there is not time.”



62 . FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Quail and Grouse, plenty, and some Woodcock,
if you know where to go. The woman is takin’ a
bunch now to trade over the mountain, and Stubble,
my dog, has gone with her, or I’d send him out with
you. Here’s a pair o’ Grouse that have hung since

_day before yesterday; they’ll roast first-rate, if youll
have ’em.”

Nez went to the shed and brought back a pair of
Partridges, or Ruffed Grouse, as they should be called,
both males, with ruffs of lustrous green feathers.

“ How pretty !” said Dodo, stroking them; “would
it be any harm for me to wear those wings in my hat
after we have eaten the birds?”

“Ts is no harm to use the wings of food birds for
ornament; the only danger is that people, who do
not care or know the difference, or understand about
Citizen Bird, may wear the wings of Song Birds by
mistake.”

“ How can we roast them without an oven?” asked
Rap, as they watched Nez pulling off the wing and
tail feathers, but not otherwise plucking the Grouse.
“Hang them with a string over the fire?”

“Tn the ashes along o’ the potatoes,’ rephed Nez,
at the same time going near the spring and bringing a
spadeful of pliable, clayey earth, which, by wetting, he
kneaded into two sheets a little thicker than pie crust.

“What can he be doing?” whispered Dodo to
Olive ; “do you suppose he really eats mud pies?”

“No, dear; of course not. Watch!”

Nez laid a bird in the centre of each sheet of
clay dough, after wetting its feathers, which he
wrapped all around it as if it were an apple in a



OUT-DOOR COOKERY 63

little dumpling. Then he dug out a small oven-
like hole under the broadest part of the fire, into
which he put the Grouse, covered them with ashes,
and raked the live coals back over the spot.

“Won't they be all burned and dirty?” whispered
Dodo to Olive.

“ Wait and see,” was her answer.

While the dinner was cooking, Nez led the party,
all except the cook, about his clearing, as he called it.

At first the cabin seemed very dark, but they soon
saw that it had two rooms separated by a great chim-
ney piled up of broad rough stones. One room was
the kitchen and living room, and the other the bed-
room. This had berths nailed to the wall, not unlike
those in a ship or sleeping car. The bedding con-
sisted of coarse gray blankets, spread over fresh hem-
lock boughs and straw.

The fireplace was open and wide, and on the living-
room side some long logs were piled one on top of the
other, with smaller sticks and kindlings in front.

“We keep er sort uv campfire in here cold nights,
yer see, Doctor. When once you've been uster sleepin’
by a fire, you miss it dredful. I’ve got a stove in
here,” he said, pointing to the kitchen; “but in warm
weather we cook outside on the logs. When you’ve
spent twenty or thirty years sleepin’ mostly under
the sky, any kind uv a roof seems crampy, so in sum-
mer season I lie out yet.”

“Did you ever sleep all night outdoors, like daddy
and uncle, with no tent or anything?” asked Dodo,
in an awe-struck tone, leaving the boys, who were look-
ing at the strange assortment of things that hung from



64 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the rafters of the cabin, stood in corners, or were stuck
in the little cracks between the logs. — Fishing-poles,
a Winchester rifle, a double-barrel shot-gun, bunches
of herbs, the furry skins of several kinds of small
beasts, a Fox tail fastened to a stick for a duster, and
many other fascinating objects.

“Sleep out all night, missy?” said Nez in astonish-
ment; “why, o’ course, that wuz always the kind of
campin’ I did when I wuz trappin’.”

“Why didn’t wild beasts eat you, and why didn’t
you get all damp and mouldy?” persisted Dodo.

“Mostly on account of the dry air in those places,
and campfires, I reckon, and sleepin’ with one eye
open,” said Nez, laughing. “Here comes Renny, he
wants his supper, I guess.”

“Why, it’s a Fox! Won’t he bite? I thought
Foxes were wild beasts,” said Nat, as a young Fox,
looking something like a small collie dog, trotted up
to the cabin, sniffing about and eyeing the strangers
suspiciously.

“That Fox won’t bite, he’s a pet of the young uns.
His mother was killed for chicken stealin’, I reckon,
along.in May; and Stubble nosed out the hole on the
other side of the mountain, and I found two pups in
it. One died, and we raised this. We’ve got a
young Coon, too, somewhere about.”

“He is just as pretty as a dog. Will he never run
away and try to find his mother?” asked Rap. “I
had a tame Coon once, and it stayed round all right,
but along in the second spring it ran away.”

“T reckon the Fox will too, when he gits old enough
to take a mate and set up house for himself. They all



OUT-DOOR COOKERY 65

do, —birds and beasts and folks too, — everybody likes
to have a place of his own. Don’t he, Doctor? Here
I was a-roamin’ all over creation, no idea uv stayin’
put anywhere, and here I am settled down and. what
they call civilized.”

The Doctor laughed and walked off with Nez to see
his charcoal pit and bit of cleared land, where he
raised potatoes and beans, while the children still
looked wonderingly about the cabin.

“I wonder why the leaves are swept away so clean
all about here?” said Dodo. “It looks so much pret-
tier to have leaves and pine needles on the ground.”

“On account of fire,’ said Olive. ‘When you
camp out, you have to be very careful about fire, espe-
cially in places where there are many evergreen trees.
Nez cooks out of doors and works often under that
shed, and has a log fire to warm him; and if the
ground were covered with dry leaves, the fire might
spread all through the woods.”

“J’m so very hungry,” said Dodo, presently; ‘ suppose

we go over and see how daddy is getting along with
his cooking.”
_ “There must be Coons living around here,” said Rap,
looking eagerly into some old trees. “I see lots of
likely holes, and there’s a splendid lot of brush down
hill there for Rabbits. Say, Nat, I wonder when we
learn to shoot if Nez wouldn’t let us come here and get
something to eat and then cook it? It would be great
sport!”

“We can ask him, anyhow. There, daddy is beckon-.
ing to us, and I smell ham. C-o-m-i-n-g, c-o-m-i-n-g,”
Nat shouted.

F



66 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Tt’s all ready,” said Dodo, who had gone ahead,
“only Uncle Roy and Nez have wandered away, and
daddy says we must not dig out the roast birds until
they come back. Can’t you moo-oo to call them,
daddy, the same way that Nez did?”

“T can try, girlie. Nat, go over to the cabin and
see if you can find a great cone-shaped thing made of
bark.” :

Nat soon returned breathless, but with the desired
article.. “It was hanging by the chimney on an old
pair of some kind of queer flat spiked Deer horns.”

“ Antlers, Nat; we don’t call those things horns when
they belong to Deer. They must be the antlers of Nez’
famous Moose. You must ask him to tell you about it
some day. Let me have the horn.”

“Tt’s like a little megaphone, you know,” said Nat ;
“the thing they called out the programme with at the
circus, only that was tin and this is old dry bark.”

“So it is, and that, ike many other things, had its
beginning in some simple invention of a woodsman.
Let me have it — Moo-00-00-0! Wher! Moo-o0-00-0 !”

“Oh, what a queer foggy noise!” cried Dodo, stop-
ping up her ears.

“T’m afraid, Uncle Jack,” said Olive, “if I were a
Moose I should run away from a mate with such a
voice.”

“May I try ?” said Rap.

“Certainly. I never was a good Moose caller, it
always gave me a sore throat.”

Rap took the cone and called gently at first, raising
the horn and then lowering it to the ground, making a
very good imitation of Nez’ call.



OUT-DOOR COOKERY 67

“ Bravo!” cried Mr. Blake; “some one must have
taught you that, my boy.”

“Tye seen the lumbermen do it over at the far
mountain.”

“ Are there Moose anywhere near here?” asked Olive.

*“ Oh, no; but the men had worked in North Maine
and Canada, and they used to sit round the fire and tell
boast stories of what they had done, and showed how
they called Moose.”

“ Boast stories, what are those?” asked Olive.

“Stories about animals they had hunted so long ago
that every time they told about the beast it got bigger
and bigger, until it wouldn’t have known itself.”

Mr. Blake laughed heartily at Rap’s description, as if
he thoroughly appreciated his meaning.

“When we sit by the campfire thinking of past days
that have pleased us, we often see them through the
firelight as we do things in dreams, which are part
imagination and part memory. Alwaysremember, boys,
that the adventures we have under the open sky and
the friends we make around the campfires and in the
silence of strange places—open prairie or trackless
wood—are different from the doings and acquaintances
of every day, and the account of them must always seem
unreal to those who have not been there.”

“You called fust rate the second time,” said Nez to
Mr. Blake, returning from showing his farm, as he
called it. “It was a little onsertin at fust—”

“Praise Rap; the call I gave was called a ‘foggy
noise’ by Dodo.”

“Was that you, little chap? .Want to know! Was
you raised in the North Woods?”



68 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“No, but I’ve always wanted to live in the woods
the way you do; but you see woods are too far away
from people for mother to get any washing to do.”

“Never you mind,” said Nez, “after the first snow
you come up and stop with me a spell, and I'll show you
how to git some Rabbits and a Grouse or two for your
mammy, when Ive got my Muskrat and Mink traps
set. There’s no big game hereabouts, at least none
bigger than a Fox or a Porkipine, a Coon or maybe a
couple o’ Wild Cats strayin’ about. But you can see
how the night comes in the woods, and I'd learn you
the tracks of some o’ the fur beasts. If we get good
deep snow down along the river medders, I'll show you
how to walk on snow-shoes, too; maybe it'll come in
handy some day.”

“T couldn’t learn that on account of my leg, but Nat
could, and he’d love it,” said Rap, cheerfully.

“Dinner, dinner,” called the Doctor, ‘and stories
afterward. Dodo is very anxious to see you open the
mud pies, Nez.”

‘“¢Come and sit on the cushions under this nice wind
break,” said Olive, going to the lean-to that Nez had
made-of the hemlock boughs. ‘“ Here are your plates
and cups, — you be waiter, Nat, and take them to Uncle
Jack.”

“What do you call your camp, Nez?” asked Mr.
Blake.

“Settledown,”’ said Nez, laughing, “’cause we’ve set-
tled here nigh two years.”

“ Bill of Fare for Dinner at Camp Settledown, served
by Chef Jacque,” called Mr. Blake. “Ham and eggs,
potatoes in jackets, frying-pan bread, roast Grouse with



OUT-DOOR COOKERY 69

clay pastry. Dessert — roast apples on strings, ginger
cookies, and””—as Nez came from the cabin with a jar
— “wild plum jam, and coffee with condensed cream! ”

The first course was eaten with much relish, and then
they gathered around the fire to see Nez uncover his
famous pies. The first one being opened disclosed a
mass of blackened feathers.

“T knew it wouldn’t be any good,” whispered Dodo
to Nat.

“You know too soon then,” he replied, as Nez with
a skilful pull took feathers, skin, and all from the bird,
showing its smoking, nicely cooked body all ready to
be eaten.

“Oh!” said the children, as they cut it, or, J should
say more truthfully, pulled it apart.

“It’s terribly good with a little salt on it,” said
Dodo; “here’s a dear little wish-bone for you, Olive,
and both top legs.” And for the next half hour the
conversation was nearly extinguished by the food.

“Please, are you going to tell us a story now?”
asked Dodo of Nez, as he began collecting the tin
plates, cups, pots, and pans.

“Wash up yer kit first, then campfire and cae
You see, missy, in the woods it don’t do to let yer
vittles cool on the dishes; it’s too hard to clean ’em.
Got a kittle? Yes?” and he filled the largest tin with
water, which he set on the fire to heat for dish-washing.

“Any dish-rag?” and Nez carefully put the good
scraps in a pail to feed to Stubble when he should
return, wiped each article out with a handful of leaves
which he carefully burned as soon as soiled, — then the
dish-washing was an easy matter.



70 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“You see,” he explained, “if you are camping in any
one place for a spell, it gets dreadful mussy if you don’t
keep cleaned up, and then you may want yer duds in
ahurry. Always keep yer kit ready, whether it’s guns,
or harness, or kittles; that’s camp law.”.

So the children strayed about for an hour or so until
Nez and their father had finished their work and smoked
their after-dinner pipes.

“Now we'll have a campfire, though it’s the wrong
time o’ day,” continued Nez, piling some logs from his
shed against a couple of charred tree trunks that stood
side by side about four feet apart; he put sticks and
kindling in front of the logs, arranging the heap so that
the wind blew from the front to the back.

“Why don’t you put the sticks in a stack, like corn
stalks?” asked Nat. “That is the way we do when
Uncle Roy lets us make bonfires in the gravel-bank lot;
it burns up as quick as a flash, only it eats a great lot
of wood.”

“That’s the reason we don’t do it,” said Nez, “just
*cause it does burn up quick and eat the wood so fast
and then slumps out. This isn’t the real time o’ day
that in natur’ a woodsman or a plainsman would stop
to build a campfire, but it’ll do to show you by.”

-“ When do people generally build them?” asked
Rap.

“Along about dark,” said Nez, “after supper, when
the day’s work is done, if it’s a cattle round-up, or a
huntin’ or a lumber camp. In the north and northwest
country the air is dry and fine enough in the daytime,
but as soon as the sun goes down—down goes the
weather, too. If you go to sleep with no fire, or let



OUT-DOOR COOKERY val

your fire go out, youll get up with stumblin’ feet and
hands all thumbs in the morning. That’s why we pile
the logs this way, so that the fire gets a good hold and
creeps up slowly, and lasts long.

“Then you'll lie under yer bush shanty, or lean-to, or
canyas, or whatever kind of a shelter you have, or stretch
out on the ground in yer blanket, and yer so glad of rest
that yer wouldn’t change with any one in a castle.
Some one throws on the logs, and the camp settles down
for the night to smoke and talk and then sleep. Wolves
may bark in the distance, and Wildcats yowl and
sneeze ; as long as the fire blazes theyll keep away.”

“Please tell us about all the sorts of tents you’ve
slept in,” said Olive.

“And about the wild beasts that sneezed at you,”
added Nat, as they all watched the fire dreamily in the
comfortable silence brought by a day in the open air
and a good meal.

“My furst reglar campin’ was in a lumber camp in
Canada, the Saskatchewan country they call it. All
day long we were out in the woods cutting trees, trim-
ming them down and branding the logs to be hauled
over the snow in the winter to the river, so that the
spring freshets would wash them down. I don’t think
I ever struck a camp that had more game, big and little,
come about it. Maybe it was ’cause I was young then,
and everything seemed wonderful.

“The camp was clear out in the wilderness, in a sort
of holler between a marshy place all brushed over and
a woody hill; it was just half dugout, half log-cabin,
like my own yonder. In fact, I made this as like as I
could to the remembrance of that one. Only, like most



72 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

camps thereabouts, it had a pair uv Moose horns over
the door to bring good huntin’.

“Tt was the furst winter that I was there I learned
from the Indians and half-breeds how to read signs; to
know by the footprints jest what animal had been that
way, and by the way young twigs were nibbled and
torn whether it was a Moose, —if it was a bull with
antlers or the smaller cow without them. Then I
learnt the footmarks of all the fur beasts, and their
toothmarks on the bark, and when there were scratches
on the trees I knew how big a B’ar had sharpened his
claws there, and how tall he was.”

“Oh, unele, don’t you remember how you said the
Wise Men ...1de animals into classes by looking at their
feet and teeth, but I didn’t know people could tell them
only by their footprints.

“ Please, Nez, can you tell by smell where all the dif-
ferent animals are, as uncle says they can tell about
each other?” asked Nat.

“Not quite,” said Nez, laughing, “though there are
a few I can nose out besides Skunks. I did some tall
huntin’ and trappin’ then for a season or two, before
the game got too skary, and folks came that killed
just for getting the antlers of the bulls and leavin’ the
meat to rot,—folks that took a fawn or doe just the
same as a buck. Hunting Wolves, I call them, for
a Wolf is a wasteful beast in his killin’.”

“That’s what daddy calls such people, too. Tell us
the names of some of the beasus you saw,” coaxed Nat.

“Tt would be easier to name those I didn’t,” said Nez,
hesitating ; “but of a moonlight night after an early
snow, when all of the outfit but me was away, I’ve











WoLr.

THE LumMBper CAMP.

SKUNKS. CANADA LYNX. -





OUT-DOOR COOKERY 73

seen a Moose come from the windward side of the
cabin, while a. Fox sulked in the shade of some firs
watching the Skunks fighting over the scrap-pail, and
a Lynx crouched, grinning, on a log, taking it all in.
Meanwhile white northern Hares and Ermines nosed
about dreadful careless, not knowing when they might
make food for Owls, and Meadow Mice squealed among
the logs and left their little tracks like birds’ claws in
the snow. When they think there’s nobody round,
beasts have their playtime, just like folks.”

“Oh!” sighed Rap and Nat in chorus, “all those
beasts you saw are four-footed Americans ; if we could
only live in a camp and see them.”

“It was a nice place to see the animals, but pshaw,
some folks would find the camp smoky in winter and
full o’ black flies in summer. Don’t I remember the
time I shot my big Moose? Tl tell you that story
some day, and about another time out in Montana how
your dad was huntin’ for Sheep and met a Grizzly B’ar.
That is, if he don’t.”

“And did you ever see a great white Polar Bear,
or find Seals swimming on the ice?” asked Dodo.

“No, I never was so far north. There is a friend of
mine, a Finlander, who follows the sea, who has been as
fur north as most men go and get back again, and he
knows those beasts and their ways. He’s comin’ to
stop with me a spell this snowfall, and he’s been fishin’
and keepin’ a light down on the shore two summers.
I thought maybe you’d met him, his name is —”

“Olaf!” cried the children and Olive in chorus.

“Want to know!” said Nez, looking pleased, and
puffing vigorously at his pipe.



74 FOUR: FOOTED AMERICANS

“Oh, uncle! Oh, daddy!” cried Nat and Dodo,
rolling off the blankets in their excitement. ‘Nez
knows Olaf and he’s coming here! Don’t you see how
much we could learn about the fourfoots if we could
only live up here in a log house?”

“Doubtless you could, and you would perhaps enjoy
it vastly for a while, but how about school? You must
begin by being fitted for your lives as House People;
few of us can live the wild life, except now and then
for pleasure and as a rest from too much tameness.
Don’t look so blue, Nat. Dodo, cheer up, even if you
may not live in a log house you are not going to be
shut up in a prison this winter. Listen, and I will
tell you the whole of the surprise that you partly
learned yesterday.”

Four heads crowded together, and eight wide-open
eyes gazed at Dr. Roy, for Olive was as much in the
dark as the others.

“Must we guess?” asked Dodo, clapping her hands.

“You may all try, if you like, but I do not think you
can possibly guess the whole of the secret.”

“We are coming up here on Saturdays to learn to
shoot and hear Nez tell stories,” ventured Nat.

“No,” said Olive, “it can’t be that, because it would
be too far and too cold in winter. Perhaps you will
ask Nez to come down some time and tell us stories,”
said Olive.

“It takes too long to guess,” cried Dodo, wriggling
about in her impatience, “ please tell us now !”

“Very well; the surprise has three parts to it. Sit
still, Dodo, and remember that you are not to jump up
and down or hug me until I have quite finished.



OUT-DOOR. COOKERY 75

“You all remember the old summer kitchen at the
farm that is filled with boxes, tools, and rubbish, —
the long, low room back of the dairy, with the brick
floor and wide fireplace?”

“Oh, yes,” said Nat, “I’ve looked in there trying to
find Bats that P’ve seen go through a place where the
glass was broken, but it was stuffed so full of every-
thing that I couldn’t get in at the door.”

“ Now,” continued the Doctor, “this very day Rod
is clearing out all the rubbish, and I am going to let
you fit up that old room like a log-cabin camp. The
fireplace is large enough to hold a fine campfire. This
ispart first.

“Part second. —Every Saturday afternoon that it
is pleasant your father or I will teach you to shoot at
a target.

“Part third.— When it is dark you shall go into
‘camp’ and cook your own supper, after the same fash-
ion as you have seen the dinner cooked to-day, then
after supper we will have stories about the four-footed
Americans. Nez has promised to tell some of them,
and Olaf others. Rap can tell what he knows of the
nearby beasts, while your father and I will fill in the
chinks.”

“How did you ever think of anything so lovely?”
exclaimed Olive.

“T can hug you now,” said Dodo, immediately doing
it vigorously.

“ Hurrah! Moo-o0-0!” was Nat’s response, trying
to blow a joyful blast on the Moose horn, and failing
utterly, while Rap sat in silence, but with a beaming
face.



76 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Let’s go home and begin right away,” said Dodo.

“Tt is high time to go home,” said Mr. Blake, jump-
ing up. ‘“ Who would think it was nearly five o’clock?
The sun sets in a hurry these days, and we shall have
to ask the moon to escort us, I think. Cold ham and
cookies must do for supper.”

“Somebody is coming,” said Rap, pointing to the
path that wound around the steep, wooded crest, where
his quick ears detected a rustling in the dead leaves.
At the same time a ginger-colored setter dog came in
sight, followed by two sturdy little boys, who, on see-
ing strangers, dodged into the cabin lke frightened
Rabbits.

“That’s Toinette and the young uns,” said Nez.
Then added by way of apology, “The young uns don’t
see many folk and they are skary. Here, Toinette,”
speaking to a rather pretty, dark-haired, black-eyed
young woman, who came up carrying a basket on her
head, “make you acquainted with some old tent mates
0’ mine.”

The woman gravely held out her hand to each with
a pretty gesture of welcome that said more than words.

“She’s half French, you see,” explained Nez, “and
she isn’t much on talkin’ American.”

But the moment Mr. Blake spoke to her in the soft
slurring French of the Canadian woods, she answered
readily, and her face was wreathed with smiles.

“You must bring your wife and children down to
visit us, Nez,” said the Doctor; “it will do them good
to see other young folks.”

“T reckon it would. The boys go to school now,
over the mountain; book learnin’ is some good even to



OUT-DOOR COOKERY 77

woodsmen, I say, and by the time they’ve grown up
there won't be much of a livin’ left in the woods,
anyhow.”

“But it’s more than five miles over to the Ridge
school by the road.”

“Yes, but that’s nothin’ fine days, and when snow
comes I calkerlate ter put on snow-shoes and ride ’em,
one on each shoulder, across country; they don’t weigh
much compared to cainp kits and Deer I’ve carried.”

“Dodo, how would you like to go ten miles a day
through the woods to school?” asked her father, for
Dodo sometimes grumbled at walking the smooth mile
that lay between the farm and schoolhouse.

“At first, for about a week, it would be fun, and
then perfectly dreadful,” she answered promptly.

They left Nez’ camp reluctantly, and returned to
where they had left the wagon and horses, who greeted
them with neighs of pleasure. Tom had walked so
many times around the tree to which he was tethered
that he was wound up tight to the trunk, while Jerry
had nibbled his rope. loose and was having a fine time
rolling on the ground, though his thick coat, long mane,
and tail were knotted with burrs which would give Rod
a good hour’s work to comb out.

“ Never mind,” he neighed, as the Doctor said “Look
at what a ee Jerry is in,” —“Tve had my fun to-day
as well as you.’

The sun disappeared exactly at the moment that the
wagon turned into the lane again, and every one waved
good-by to Nez, who watched them out of sight.

“T know what all the extra blankets and things were
put in for,” said Dodo, as her father made her sit on a



78 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

blanket which he folded over her knees and drew about
her shoulders like a shawl, so that only her head peeped
out, while the others arranged theirs to match. “ It’s
like being ina bag. How nice and warm it feels,” she
said, nestling down. “I didn’t know just one blanket
could be so comfortable.”

“Just one skin robe or wool blanket is all that the
Indian hunter, or plainsman, has to stand between him
and the bitter cold night,” said the Doctor; “so that
many people who are living the out-door life continu-
ally, have their blankets sewed into this shape and
lined with fur, and they are called sleeping bags.”

“That is what: Dodo’s blanket will be long before we
get home,” said Olive, as Dodo nodded and swayed on
the seat.

“No, I’m going to stay awake so as to see every-
thing,” said she, suddenly stiffening up and opening
her eyes very wide.

“Look at the mist coming up out of the river and
lowlands,” said Rap ; “it’s just as if they had gone to
sleep and it was their breath.”

“We shall save three miles by following the river
lane,” said the Doctor to Mr. Blake, who was driving.

By this time the light that guided them came from
the great full hunter’s moon, and all that was left of
daylight was a few dull red shadows in the west.

“There are lots of little beasts out to-night,” said
Rap, his eyes being almost as keen in the darkness as a
cat’s. “Ob, Doctor, do you hear that barking down
the river bank? I’m as sure as anything that it’s a
dog that has treed a Coon, for the noise keeps coming
from the same place. Can’t we stop and see?”



OUT-DOOR COOKERY 79

Mr. Blake drew in the horses, and they all listened

for several minutes. ‘The barking turned to a yelp
and then a baying, and almost at the same time a good-
sized beast, bigger than the largest Angora cat, with
a full tail, sprang from the bushes into the road,
-stopped to listen, and then scenting the horses con-
tinued on its way through the bushes and disappeared
among the rocks, while the barking dog seemed to be
taking a zig-zag course in the opposite direction.

«“ We have seen the Coon without leaving the wagon,”
said Mr. Blake, whipping up again. “He evidently
sprang from the tree across one of the brooks that feed
the river, and the dog has lost the scent.”

“Jt is a very queer animal,” said Olive. ‘“ Father,
did you notice when it sat up to listen it looked like
a little Bear, in spite of its long tail?”

“That is not strange, considering that it is a cousin
of Bears,” said the Doctor.

“ Coons are real clever,” said Rap. “ The one I had
could do ever so many tricks, and used its paws as if
they were hands.”

“ What are Coons good for — to eat or wear?” asked
Dodo.

“Both,” said the Doctor. ‘Their fur is soft and
prettily brindled, and if they are young, the flesh is
not unlike Rabbit.”

“Mammy Bun says they used to have Coons down
where she lived, but their fur wasn’t good for much.”

“The fur of an animal living in the South is never
as good as the fur of the same species living in the
North.”

“Why is that ?” asked Nat.



80 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Because fur is given animals to protect them from
the cold; the summer coat of a fur beast is thin, as
you see the summer coat of a horse is short, com-
pared to the thick coat that grows out at the first cold
weather. (Look at Tom and Jerry and see how woolly
they are now.) As it is never very cold in the South,
the fur animals do not need such thick, soft coats as
they do here, while in Canada and northward, where the
winter is far longer and colder than with us, the fur
is heavier yet.”

“There is a word I’ve heard hunters use for the fur
of animals, the same as plumage means the feathers of
birds, only I’ve forgotten it,” said Rap.

“Pelage, is it not? It comes from peau (pelt),
which means furry skin; a skin used for the leather
instead of fur is called a hide.”

Two men stepped across the road, with what looked
like Rabbits and Grouse hanging over their shoulders,
but slunk into the shadow of some bushes when they
saw the wagon.

“Pot hunters, I know,” said Mr. Blake, “snaring
and trapping, as usual.”

“ How do you know they trapped the birds, daddy?”
said Nat.

“Because they had no guns and hid when they saw
us. If you watch wood life much, my boy, you will soon
learn to see the reason why for things, and it is very
often the reason that helps you to see the thing itself.”

“ Hoo-hoo-hoooo!” came a cry from over a very
dark bit of road through which they were going.

“Nat, there is one of your friends,—the Great
Horned Owl,” said the Doctor.



Full Text



The Baldwin Library

University
RMB vit
Florida


FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS






ge 306

— See pa

EER.

ERICAN D.

THE Am
FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

AND THEIR KIN

BY

MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT

EDITED BY

FRANK M. CHAPMAN

ILLUSTRATED BY

ERNEST SETON THOMPSON

Nefy Bork
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Lr.
1898

All rights reserved
Coryriaut, 1898,
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.

Norwood WPress
J.S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
GL

To
WILLIAM T. HORNADAY
DIRECTOR OF THE NEW YORK ZOOLOGICAL PARK
This Book ts Dedtcater
BY THE AUTHOR

IN RECOGNITION OF HIS EFFORTS TO PRESERVE THE
LIVING AMERICAN MAMMALS WHERE THEY
MAY BE KNOWN TO THE CHILDREN
OF FUTURE GENERATIONS
SCENE:

OrcuHarpD FARM AND Twenty MILES AROUND.

TIME:

FALi unTIL SPRING.

CHARACTERS :

Dr. Roy Hunter, a naturalist.

Oxive, the Doctor’s daughter.

Nar and Dopo, the Doctor’s nephew and niece.
Mr. and Mrs. Biaxe, the parents of Nat and Dodo.
Rav, a lame country boy.

Mammy Bon, an old colored nurse and cook.
Ron, the farmer.

Ovar, a sailor and fisherman.

Nez Lone, a charcoal burner and woodsman.
Tornetter, Nez’ wife.

Quick, a fox terrier.

Mr. Wo tr, a St. Bernard dog.

ExrLanation. — Dr. Hunter, after travelling for many
years, returned to his old home at Orchard Farm, with his
daughter Olive, aged seventeen, and Mammy Bun. He
invited Nat and Dodo, who had always lived in the city, to
spend the summer with him, so that they might learn about
outdoor things, and told them the story of the birds.

Mr. and Mrs. Blake came for the children in the autumn,
and they expected to return to the city to school; but Dr.
Hunter, who was always making delightful surprises, arranged
for the whole family to spend the winter at the Farm. What
they did, and how they became acquainted with the Four-
FOOTED AmeERIcANS, is told in this story. 5

vii







TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

PAGE

In TuE PASTURE . : : ‘ ‘ : ‘ : ‘ ‘ 1
CHAPTER II

Tor AnrmwMAL TREE. : i : : 4 : poll
CHAPTER III

WAFFLES AND A WALK. : : : i 3 : sae
CHAPTER IV

CuimBING THE ANIMAL TREE. 23 ; 5 : 6 eanoll
CHAPTER V

Aw AutumMN Honipay ‘ : : 5 A ; Boe 4

Woodchucks, Muskrats, etc.

CHAPTER VI

Our-poor CookERY . : : ; : 5 ; 9 . 60
CHAPTER VII

Camp SATURDAY . : : : Z z ; : : Memes?)
CHAPTER VIII

EExpianation Nicutr . : : i : : : : me 04

The Brotherhood of Beasts.

CHAPTER IX

An INVITATION . ; % : 5 . : : é ~ldd

ix
x TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER X
Monarcus IN EXILe
The American Bison.
CHAPTER XI

Rappir Tracks

Wood Hare — Varying Hare —Jack Rabbit — Marsh Hare
— Pika, Little Chief, or Whistling Hare.

CHAPTER XII
Tur Winter Woops .
Trails and Trapping.
CHAPTER XII

Nez Lone’s MENAGERIE

The Little Fur-bearers — Otter — Skunk — Little sintped
Skunk — Weasel — Sable — Fisher — Wolverine — Mink
— Raccoon, etc.

CHAPTER XIV

Foxes AND SNOW-SHOES
Red Fox — Gray Fox — Arctic Fox.

CHAPTER XV
Wotr !
The Timber Wolf, and the Ce or Prairie Wolf.

CHAPTER XVI
- Cousins or Cats. 5 : 5 : : ;
Puma— Ocelot — Wildcat, also the Civet Cat, which is no
Cat at all.
CHAPTER XVII

Turer Harpy MountTaInrErs

The Grizzly Bear— Big Horn See Boy Mountain
Goat.

PAGE

115

137

194

212

223

238
TABLE OF CONTENTS Xl

CHAPTER XVIII
PAGE
On THE PLAINS . : : a - 5 . 254

The Pronghorn or Antelope — Prairie Dog— Corot and
Badger.

CHAPTER XIX

Unper THE Potar STAR
The Woodland Caribou — Musk Ox — Polar Bear.

bo
=I
oO

CHAPTER XX

A Spausxin Jacket at Home . : : 5 : . 282

The Walrus — Sea Lion — Sea Bear or Fur Seal and the
Harbor Seal.

CHAPTER XXI

Horns, Prones, AnD ANTLERS . : ‘ 5 5 . 298

Elk — American Deer — Growth and Difference between
Horns and Antlers explained.

CHAPTER XXII
Nez’ Bre Moose : ; 5 : Picts ‘ : . 809

CHAPTER XXIII

Fisn or Fiesu. : z ; : : : : ; . 3820

Manatee — Sperm Whale — Bowhead Whale — Finback
Whale — Porpoise — Dolphin.

CHAPTER XXIV

Rats anp Mice . : § . 83l
Muskrat — White Lemming — Set seea Mouse — Cot-
ton Rat— Wood or Pack Rat— Marsh Rat — Pouched
Gopher — Gray Pocket Gopher — Kangaroo Rat — Pocket
Mouse — Jumping Mouse.
Kell TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER XXV
PAGE
MiscuHier Makers : ; A Zs : j | ; . 849

Red Squirrel — Flying Squirrel — Gray Squirrel — Fox Squir-
rel — Chipmunk — Striped Spermophile — Line-tailed or
Rock Spermophile.

CHAPTER XXVI

Tue Beaver’s Story . : : ; ‘5 : 3 A . 3865

CHAPTER XXVII
“Bears anp Possums”? : : j 3 : : 5 . 93876
Mammy Bun’s Story.

CHAPTER XXVIII

From Morretown ro Barvitye . 3 Fi : i 5 . 3887

Comnion Mole — Star-nosed Mole — Short-tailed Shrew —
Least Shrew — Hoary Bat — Little Red Bat — Brown Bat
— Little Brown Bat — House or Snouty Bat.

CHAPTER XXIX

A Four-roorep Dance i : : : 5 ‘ 3 . 403

LADDER FOR CLIMBING THE NORTH AMERICAN
MAMMAL TREE 5 : ; : , : : . 415

INDEX : 2 : 5 5 ; 2 5 . . 481
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

[The artist has furnished his own incidents for many of these
illustrations, and the author wishes to express her thanks for the
use of the same in the stories.]

PAGE
Tun AMERICAN DEER. : : f 2 . Frontispiece
Tom, JERRY, AND CoMET . 3 : : . 5 5 5 6
VERTEBRATE BRANCHES OF THE ANIMAL TREE F ; tel
THe Woopcnuck ‘ : . : : 5 : : . 44
Front Paw anp Tain or Musxrat . z a * : . Ag
Tue Lumper Camp. fi : : e 5 ; * Nese,
Tue CoLt“tarED Preccary . A 3 5 5; i : pero 0)
Wuitt-FooTen Mouse : < eee 6 : : ees OI)
Nortu AMERICAN MaMmMAL TREE § ; : 3 123,98
Tue Bison . ; A : , : fe A . 3 . 118
Woop Hare ‘ z j 3 3 z ‘ : ; . 140
Marsu Hare : : 3 : 5 : 2 s : . 146
Jack Rabssir z ‘ F 4 ‘ : : 3 : . 148
Varying Hare . ‘ ‘ : 4 : 5 5 » 1b1

Pika, Lirrire Curer, or Wuistirinc Hare. ; « 154
A Rep Fox, Hunrine . 5 Fi é : a 3 - 158

CanapA PorcurinE . 5 i 3 : 3 5 3 . 162
Common Sxunx . : : - . 3 : ; - 176
OrrrER AND FisHer . : a : 5 5 : - . 178
‘Tarrre Stripep Skunk. ; A 5 E 3 § . 180
WeEAsEL orn Ermine . : : : : eaters . 183
Tue Minx . y y 5 2 ; ; Bs . i . 185
Pinr Marten anp Rep Squrrret . s i 3 E . 186
xiii
Xlv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

WOLVERINE . : ‘ ‘ 2 i : , 4 Zi Bi

Turn Raccoon

Tue Arctic Fox

Timber Wouter

Civer Car

Tur OcEror : : e ‘

Hzaps or House Car, Wirpcat, ann Cayapa Lynx

Tue Puma uuntinc Ev

GrizzLty Bear anp Bicnorn Sueep .

Moentain Goats

Drama or THE Prarns z ‘ : f . ‘ a

Tur Bapcrer

Woopranp Caripou

Musk Ox

Porar Bear anp SEAL

ATLANTIC WaALrus

Sea Bear or Fur Sear

Harzor Sran :

Heaps oF ANTELOPE oR Pronenory, Mountain Goat, Bic-
HORN, AND Musk Ox

Hzaps or Woopranp Carisou, Moos, anp Evx

Nez’ Bia Moose.

Tore Manater

Tue Serra WuHare

Finpack WuHaty

Tue PorpoiseE . s é : . :

Dorruins - : : : . : : .

Meapow Mouser . _ : 5 : A 3 :

Tur Muskrar. : : : ; Yi .

Corron Rar ? ° P . ‘ . ‘ :

Marsu Rar. 3 . i y : ;

Woon Rar . : A : ‘ ‘

PoucHep or Mote Goruer 5 A . : 6 :

Gray Pocket Goruur : ‘ i : ° : ‘


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

KancGaroo Rar
Pockrr Mousr
Jumping Mousr .
Fryine Squirre_s
Gray SQuirreL

Tur Cnipmunk
Srrirpep SpERMOPHILE
Rock SpermMoruiLe
Beavers ar Worx
Brack Bear

Tue Opossum

Lirrte Brown Bar
Common More
Srar-nosep Monn
SHort-TaAILED SHREW .

Least Surew

xV

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395
FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

IN THE PASTURE






wT was circus day down at East Village.
Not the common circus, with a Lion,
Elephant, a cage or two of Monkeys,
a fat clown turning somersaults, and
a beautiful lady floating through
paper hoops, but a real American
circus — the Wild West Show,
with its scouts, frontiersmen, Bron-
cos, bucking Ponies, Indians,
~ and Buffaloes.
Of course the House People at Orchard Farm made
‘a holiday and went down to see the show, giving many
different reasons for so doing. Dr. Hunter and Mr.
Blake said it was their duty as patriotic Americans
to encourage native institutions, and Mrs. Blake said
that she must surely go to see that the young people
did not eat too many peanuts and popcorn balls. The
young people thought that going to the circus was a
must be, unless one was ill, or had done something very,
very wrong, that merited the severest sort of punish-
ment. Mammy Bun, too, who had been groaning
B res fil:


2 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

about pains in her bones for fully a week, took out
her best black bonnet trimmed with a big red rose, —
headgear that she only wore on great occasions, —
saying : —

“ Pears to me nuffin eber does ma reumatiz de heap
o’ good like hearin’ a real circus ban’ a playin’. Land
alibe, honies! I feel so spry alreddy seems like I’se
could do a caike walk dis yer minit.”

* Co * * Co

It was October. Everything looked cheerful at the
farm. The maples were dressed in dazzling red and
yellow ; heaps of red and yellow apples lay undér the
orchard trees, and the house and barns wore a glisten-
ing new coat of yellow paint, with white trimmings
and green blinds.

A deeper yellow shone from the fields where jolly
pumpkins seemed to play hide-and-seek behind the
corn stacks, which the children called wigwams when
they played Indian. Everything looked as thrifty as
if the outdoor season was beginning instead of nearly
at an end; and well it might, for it had been many
years since the old farm held such a family. There
would be no closed blinds, leaf-choked paths, or snow-
drifts left to bury the porch, this winter.

“Yes, the Chimney Swift was right,” said the
Meadowlark in the old field, to the Song Sparrow who
was singing cheerfully in a barberry bush. “ We shall
be better off than before these House People came ;
they have already begun to scatter food in the barn-
yard, though there are enough gleanings about to last
us citizens until snow comes. ‘The village boys never
think of coming up here now to shoot, as they used
IN THE PASTURE 3

to every season when the wind began to blow cold” ;
and the Meadowlark flew to the top rail of the fence,
boldly showing his yellow breast, and giving a note or
two to tell how trustful he was.

“Where have you been all summer?” asked Comet,
the young trotter, of the big brown farm horses, who
had come to drink at the spring in the pasture below
the barns. “It is so long since I have seen you I was.
afraid that you had been sold.”

“Oh no, youngster!” replied Tom. “Jerry and I
have only been summering up at the wood lots at the
far end of the farm. We had our shoes off all the
time, and could amuse ourselves as we liked. We
never saw a harness or wagon; all the work we did
was to roll in the grass or wade in the river to keep
the flies off. The grazing up there was simply deli-
cious, you know, —all sorts of relishing little bits of
herbs mixed in with the grass.

“Now that we have had our rest, it is our turn to
work, and gray Bess and Billy have gone to the pad-
dock, and we have come to take their places. ‘There is
plenty to do on this farm in fall and winter, though
it is very lonely. I can remember, when I was a four-
year-old, that House People lived in the big barn with
all the windows, and they used to ride over the snow
in the low wagon without wheels, and we all had fine
times together.”

“There are fine times here now,” said Comet, shak-
ing his mane importantly; “but of course you do not
know about them, because you have been away. House
People are living here again. We all have great fun
and the best of eating, with more picnics than plough-
4 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

ing for the horses. Children play about the farm, who
feed me with bunches of pink clover and little lumps
of nice-tasting stuff they call sugar. I mistrusted it
at first, it looked so like the hard pebbles in the brook,
but it chewed up all right when I nibbled some.”

“ You don’t look as if you had been having half enough
to eat, in spite of the good times,” said Tom, pityingly.
“Only look at your ribs. I can count every one of
them. If you were harnessed to a plough, you would
come apart at the very first pull. How could you
drag a load of hay? As for working in the thresh-
ing-machine, those little feet of yours would catch
between the slats. What use are thin horses, any-
way?” concluded Tom, rather rudely, not realizing
that his remarks were impolite, while Jerry looked
proudly along his fat sides and pawed the ground with
a hoof nearly as large as a dinner plate.

Comet was going to answer angrily and say some-
thing very saucy about clumsy work horses, but he
stopped himself in time, being every inch a thorough-
bred; for good breeding shows in the manners of
“animals as well as in House People.

“No,” he answered after a moment, “I can’t plough,
nor drag a load, nor work the threshing-machine ; but
horses are made for different kinds of work. You do
not think a cow useless because she gives milk instead
of doing any sort of pulling, do you? Now I can drag
the little wagon over to the railway station — where
the great iron horse drags the string of covered wagons
along the ground on the queer shiny fence rails —in
half the time it takes you to go round the ten-acre
lot. When I hear that horse coming, breathing hard
IN THE PASTURE 5

and roaring, I prick up my ears, and you can hardly
see my feet when they touch the road, for I do not
want that great roaring horse to get there before I do.
So the master is pleased, and always takes me. How
would you like to go fast like that?” said Comet,
smiling behind a bunch of grass.

“T couldn’t go fast if I wanted to,” said Tom, hon-
estly. “I tried it once, when a plough-chain fell and
banged my heels. They called it running away, I
believe. My! how warm I was. Everything looked
red as the sun in August, and a warm rain storm
rolled off my coat on to the grass. That is what it
seemed to me, but the farmer said, ‘Tom is too fat and
soft. See how he sweats!’ and they skimped my
dinner for a month.”

‘Well, then, to continue,” said Comet. “We ani-
mals haven’t been shut up all summer except in
stormy weather; the bars have been down between all
the best pastures. Even Sausage, the sow, and her
nine little pigs, have been out walking every day, and
her sty has had fresh bedding in it the same as if they
were Cow or Horse People.

“We had so much freedom that I thought at first
that there would be a great many fights, but we have
all behaved beautifully. Even Nanny Baa, the stub-
born old sheep, and Corney, the mischievous goat, have
not butted any one or fought each other.

“We've had a chance to hear about the world and
the other animals in it too, for a circus has been camp-
' ing a few fields further down.”

“T don’t like a circus,” interrupted Jerry, decidedly.
“There are always a lot of bad-smelling, foreign beasts
6 FOUR-FOOTED. AMERICANS

in cages with a circus, that a respectable farm four-
foot should not encourage. Then there is a terrible
noise, — worse than milk-pans falling off the fence, —
that they call a band; it makes me forget. myself and
dodge and dance all over the road. . Yes, indeed, I
well remember the first circus I ever heard. It came
here when we were five-year-olds. .‘T’om and I upset a
load of cabbages, and they rolled all the way down
Long Hill into the brook.”

“There were no foreign wild beasts in thés circus,”
said Comet, proud of his knowledge. “I put my head
through the fence bars and had a fine chance to talk
to some of the horses. There were several kinds of
Horse Brothers there that I had never seen before ;
different even from the long-eared. Donkey and Mule
Brothers.” Here Comet stopped, took a bite of grass
and a drink of water, waiting to see if Tom and Jerry
were interested.

They were, and as Comet looked up he saw that
some of the other animals were coming down to drink,
— Daisy, the finest cow in the herd, and Nanny Baa,
sauntering all alone, the other sheep not having yet
missed her, while Corney, the goat, whose whole name
was Capricornus, danced about on a rock, charging at
an imaginary enemy in the sky.

“ What other horses did you see?” asked Tom and
Jerry together, as the others came up.

“There were small horses, homely and thin, with
straight necks and rolling eyes. Some of these were
brown, and some all mixed brown and white. ‘They
ran up and down the field, clearing the old division
fence at a jump. These were called Indian Ponies,






Tom, JERRY, AND CoMET.
IN THE PASTURE 7

and men they called Indians, with small eyes and dark
rusty faces, rode on them for exercise. Beside these
there were some others, called Burros, with longish
ears, who did not seem to know how to either trot or
run, and some of the small horses kept jerking and
humping up their backs, so that the men could not
ride them.

“Who told you all these names?” asked Tom,
suspiciously.

“There was.an old horse who did not work in the
circus, but only helped draw wagons, who stayed by
the fence and talked to me. He had seen a great deal
of life in his day, and what do you think he said about
those strange horses? That they were not born and
raised on nice farms like you and me; that they came
from the west country where they run wild until they
are old enough to work, and they live in great flocks as
the Crows do hereabouts. Every horse has a mark on
his side, put there by the man who owns him. When
they are young they have fine sport, but when it is
time for them to work, men ride after them on swift
horses and catch them by throwing a rope loop over
their heads, and sometimes this hurts them very much,
and they are also sorry to leave their friends.

“ Out in the west country where these horses lived,
the plains are full of fourfoots, —not Horse and Cow
People, — but real wild fourfoots, strange as any of the
Elephants or Lions. There are more kinds of them
than you could ever dream of, even if you ate a whole
bushel of oats for supper.

“The Horse said that they belong to older American
families than any of us farm animals, and that once
8 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

these four-footed Americans and the Red Indian
Brothers, who lived in tents, owned all the country,
and there were no real House People or farm fourfoots
here at all.”

“That must have been a long time ago,” said Jerry.
“T remember my grandmother, and she never said any-
thing about wild people, and I never knew about any
other animals but ourselves.”

“Who am J, pray?” squealed a Squirrel, scamper-
ing along the fence. ‘“ How ignorant you are not to
know that I belong to a very old family.” :

“ You don’t count,” neighed Jerry. ‘I never thought
you were an animal.”

“Not an animal, hey? I will show you what a sharp-
toothed animal I am, some fine day, and nibble up your
dinner when you are asleep,” and the Squirrel jumped
over Jerry’s back, and ran up a tree.

“My friend told me,” continued Comet, “ that some
of those wild fourfoots are working for their living in
this very circus. They are quite rare now, though
they used to be as plentiful in the west pastures as
ants in a hill. He showed me some of these beasts
this very morning when they were being led down to
the village.”

“ What did they look like?”

“Something like bulls, with low backs and great
heavy heads, all bushy with thick brown wool. My
friend said they are called Bison by the Wise Men; but
in the circus and out where they used to live, every one
calls them Buffaloes.”

“T wonder if they are related to me?” said Daisy,
who had joined the group.
IN THE PASTURE 9

“They are not as handsome as you, though they
might belong to your family,” said Comet, politely.

“Perhaps I may have some wild cousins,” said
Sausage, rooting up the turf. “I wonder what they
eat?”

“J should like to go and meet my wild relations, if
I have any,” said Corney. ‘I wonder if they could
beat me at butting and sliding down hill?”

“Humph, it is very strange about all these wild
things,” said Jerry. “I— My, they are making that
bang noise again, down at the village!”

“That is the band. I think the circus is over,” said’
Comet.

“Which Horse Brother dragged the people down
there, and who went?” asked Daisy, who was always
inquisitive.

“They all went, and they walked with their own
feet, because the Doctor knows that we do not like
smells and noises,” said Comet. “They are coming
back up the hill now. Nat is following ’way behind,
carrying something. Ugh! It is a big snake, and he
has it by the tail. I hate snakes; they look up so
suddenly out of the grass when one is feeding, and
they always seem to be by the nicest bunch of clover.”

“Perhaps the people will stop here to rest, and we
may hear something about our wild brothers,” said
Daisy.

“J think Dodo has sugar for me,” said Comet to Tom
and Jerry. “I will drop a piece, and you can pick it
up, and see how you like it.”

“Comet is quite a gentleman, if his ribs do show,”
muttered Tom to his companion, looking pleased, while
10 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the other animals lingered about the spring, waiting for
the House People.

‘Here are the horses that I haven’t seen before from
the grass farm; and Comet, too, and Daisy!” cried
Dodo, climbing over the fence. “Please stop a bit,
Uncle Roy, and let me give them some of my popcorn
balls ; I’m sure they will like them, and Corney simply
loves peanuts.”

“What did I tell you?” whispered Comet to Tom,
as Dodo chirped for him to come to her.
II

THE ANIMAL TREE





S OME up on the fence too, please,
uncle,” coaxed Dodo, and Dr.
Hunter climbed over the
pasture bars, seating him-
self on the fence in answer to
her request to ‘stop a bit while
she fed the animals.” He mo-
tioned to Rap, who was rather
tired with his walk, to come
beside him, while Nat and Dodo divided the contents
of their pockets into little heaps.

“Give the popcorn to Daisy and the horses,” said
Dodo. “The peanuts are for Corney; we can toss
them up, and see him hop and scramble to catch them.
It’s lots of fun. Sausage can have all the mixed
crumbs, ’cause she likes grubby things. Please, Nat,
won't you bury your snake, or hang it up, or some-
thing? Whichever way I look, it seems to be too near.”

“Tll hang it up on the tree, because I’m going to
put it in a glass jar to keep. Daddy has gone back
to the village to buy me some alcohol to pour on it.”

“Ugh! what do you want it for? If I were you,
I’d rather have the money the alcohol costs to buy

a new butterfly net.”
11
12 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Uncle Roy says it is as fine a rattlesnake as he
ever saw. ‘That is why he bought it of the man from
the mountain, who killed it. There aren’t any here-
abouts now. biters; but. I want it for my collection. I haven't
many reptiles, you know; only a garter snake, two
lizards, and a frog—whoa! Tom, eat fair; your
mouth is twice as big as Comet’s.”’

“How queer Daisy’s tongue feels—it tickles my
hand,” said Dodo. “She licks everything into her
mouth, but the. horses take food in their lips. Uncle
Roy, please come down here and see how queerly
Daisy eats, and oh, my! she hasn’t any top front
teeth, either. Is she very old? Do look; her jaws
wiggle as if she was chewing gum!”

“No, little girl; none of the Cow Family have any
front upper teeth. A well-behaved cow sticks out
her tongue with a sidewise motion to guide the grass
into her mouth, while in the Horse Family the habit
is to seize it with the lips, and then nip it between
the teeth.”

“Yes, but, uncle!” cried Nat, jumping hastily over
the fence to dodge Corney, who was tired of eating
peanuts one by one, and, giving a sudden butt, had
seized bag and all; “ Uncle Roy, cows are ever so fond
of chewing. They eat all the morning, and then they
go under the trees and chew, chew, chew, all the after-
noon ; but horses gobble their food once for all.”

“Tm very glad you have noticed this, Nat. The
cow is built upon a different plan from the horse.
The horse has a complete set of upper and under
teeth, and a single stomach — something like our own

2)
THE ANIMAL TREE 13

—to receive the food. The cow has four stomachs.
When she eats, the food goes into the first stomach,
where it stays a while to grow soft. After Daisy has
filled this first stomach, she goes to rest for a while,
brings up the softened food into her mouth, and chews
itagain. This softened food is called the ‘cud.’ ”

“Oh, now I know what Rod meant,” cried Dodo,
clapping her hands, “when he said the cows were
chewing their ‘cud.’ They were lying under the trees,
and didn’t seem to have anything near them to eat.
I thought cud must be moss or something. Do any
other of our animals beside cows have several stom-
achs and chew cud?”

“ Yes, all the animals that belong to the Meat Fam-
ily: Sheep and Goats, and, among their wild Ameri-
can brothers, the Deer and the very Buffalo that you
saw at the show this afternoon.”

“Were those strange beasts any relations of our
farm animals?” asked the children in one breath.

“Were our farm animals once wild like the Buf-
faloes, and did they live far out West? Who first
caught them and made them tame?” gabbled Dodo,
only stopping when her breath failed.

“Our farm animals were never, in the true sense,
natives of this country. In the far back days, before
the pale-faced voyagers came to these shores, the Red
Brothers had no horses to carry them, nor cows to give
them milk. They followed the war-path and game-
trail on foot, and their clothing and tent homes were
made of the skins of the beasts they took with bow,
arrow, and spear. Time was when they had not even
spears and arrows.
14 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“When the pale-faced settlers came to America they
brought the useful animals from their old homes with
them: pigs, sheep, horses, goats, cows, dogs, cats,
etc., —so though these have lived here as the people
have, long enough to be citizens, they are not native
or indigenous Americans any more than we ourselves.
That distinction belongs to the Indian, Peccary, Buffalo,
Musk Ox, Mountain Goat, Bighorn, Wolf, and Wild-
cat, who are the wild cousins of House People and
their farm fourfoots. The horse alone has no living
wild cousin here, though there were horses in America
ages ago.”

“Then those horses that the Indians rode at the
show, who hopped around so, weren’t really wild at
all,” said Nat, with a look of great disappointment.
“They seemed really, truly wild, and how the Indians
stuck on and dodged and fired their guns!”

“They are wild in the sense that they were born on
the open prairie and lived in vast herds, but they are
the great-grandchildren of tame horses. In the south-
west, ag well as in South America, vast herds of these
horses, descended from those brought in by the Span-
ish, roamed at large. From time to time the Indians
dashed into the troops and lassoed those that they de-
sired and rode them as we saw the Indians do this °
afternoon, but they are not true four-footed Americans
like that little Chipmunk over there, who is stealing a
few peanuts that Corney overlooked, or like the sly,
fat Woodchucks that we are trying to trap in the
orchard.” ;

“Please, Uncle Roy, can Dodo and I put halters on
Tom and Jerry and see if we can ride them round the
THE ANIMAL TREE 15

field without any saddles?” said Nat, looking fearlessly
up at the big horses, whose mouths barely touched the
top of his head.

“You can try, if you like,” laughed the Doctor, “but
Vm afraid it will be too hard travelling for Dodo. No,
you will risk a bumping? Very well, then, but tell
Rod to bring blankets and surcingles.”

In a few minutes Rod came, strapped a folded
blanket on each horse, and gave Nat Jerry’s halter, but
insisted upon keeping hold of Tom.

“ Now, if I only had something to shoot with, we
could play circus. Hoo-o0-ooh!” cried Nat, trying to
imitate an Indian cry, at which sound Jerry galloped
very quietly down the pasture, switching his tail. But
to Nat it seemed as if he was seated on an earthquake,
and he clutched Jerry’s mane, whereupon the horse
gave a little kick of surprise and cantered heavily back
to the spring.

“TY think T-o-m is falling to pieces,” chattered Dodo,
as-Rod ran him round the pasture. “He — is—so—
fat, too, my legs can’t bend down; —I— guess Ill
stop, please,” and Rod swung her down to the wall
beside her uncle.

“ A circus isn’t as easy as it looks,” said Nat, wiping
his face, and Rap laughed heartily and pounded his
crutch on the fence.

“Farm horses are not saddle horses,’
himself.

“Tm all mixed up about animals,” said Dodo in a
few minutes when she had caught her breath. “ Our
farm animals aren’t real Americans, yet Daisy is a
kind of cousin of the wild Buffalo, because she has no

>

said Comet to
16 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

upper front teeth and chews a cud. Birds seem so
much easier to understand. Birds are animals with a
backbone, a beak for a mouth, and two legs. They
wear feathers and lay eggs. But these others are
different in their mouths and stomachs and feet, and
some have horns and some don’t. Some have little
tails like Corney, and some long hairy tails like the
horses, and oh, Uncle Roy, that snake there is all tail !

“ Olive says bugs, and beetles, and flies, are animals,
too, and, beetles are crusty, and caterpillars are squashy,
and flies are buzzy, and I’m sure I never can tell who
is who. Birds look something alike, even when they
are as different as a Hummingbird and a Duck; but I
can’t understand how all the other animals are re-
lated.”

“ Not so fast, dearie,” said the Doctor, laughing at her
inquiries until the tears ran down his cheeks. “The
differences and the relationships of these animals are
no harder to remember than they are among the birds.
You know that with them their beaks and feet were
arranged to suit their needs. Have you forgotten how
we classified the birds, and the little table of the Animal
Kingdom that you wrote?”

“Yes,” said Nat, hesitating; “that is, I did know,
but I’ve forgotten most of it.”

“TI remember,” said Rap, “that you said classifying
was to put the animals together that were the nearest
alike, and the two great divisions of the Animal King-
dom were animals without backbones and animals with
them.”

“Olive says my sponge is an animal,” said Dodo,
doubtfully. “Surely it can’t have any backbone, for
THE ANIMAL TREE 17

if it did it would scratch my face; but then it was full
of prickles when it was new, perhaps its backbone was
crumpled up!”

“T must try to make this Animal Kingdom and its
chief divisions more clear to you,” said the Doctor,
pausing a minute as he looked across the pasture. “Do
you see that great chestnut tree yonder, with the thick
trunk and wide-spreading branches ?”

. “Yes, indeed,” said Rap, “and it bears the fattest,
sweetest nuts of any tree hereabouts; but it takes a
very hard frost to open them.”

“JT remember how good the nuts used to be, but now
I want you all to notice the way in which the tree
grows. Above ground there is a thick straight part
which is called the trunk; then this soon divides
into large branches. A little further up these thick
branches separate into smaller branches yet, until they
end in little slender twigs.

“The Animal Kingdom is like this tree in the way
in which the different members all are developed side
by side, interlacing and depending upon each other. It
is difficult to tell some of the lowest branches of the
animal tree from plants: as none of these animals of

_the first branches have any backbones, they are called
Invertebrates, and their inside parts are held together
in a little tube.”

“Are birds on one of the high branches?” asked
Dodo.

“Yes, one of the very highest, next to the great
branch, where man himself sits, surrounded by all his
faithful four-footed friends, just as he is when he walks
about every day.”

Cc
18 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Do House People and fourfoots belong on the same
great branch?” said Rap, looking puzzled. “ What is
it called, please?”

“Tt ig the Mammal branch, the highest of all, and it
has so many little branchlets and twigs that it is large
enough to be a tree all by itself.”

“Exactly how are the other Mammals like us, and
what does Mammal mean? Do they all have warm red
blood like ours?” asked Dodo, who was celebrated for
cutting her fingers.

“ They all have warm red blood, but so have birds ;
there are other differences that you will learn later.
The one thing that makes them Mammals is that they
suckle their young with milk.”

“M— mammals; m—milk,” sane Dodo. “Why,
that is as easy to remember as ‘ Billy Button bought a
buttered biscuit’! Please tell us the names of some
nearby Mammals, Uncle Roy.”

“ All the farm and house fourfoots are Mammals ;.
also the wild Deer, Wolves, Foxes, Rats, Mice, Squir-
rels, Moles, Skunks, Weasels, and Woodchucks, beside
many others you do not know even by name.”

“So all those nuisance animals are Mammals too,”.
said Dodo, meditatively.

“Nuisance animals! Which are those?” asked
Rap.

“The naughty, bothersome ones that eat things and
bite holes in the house, and dig up the orchard, and
smell, oh, so bad! Why, Rap, don’t you remember
the evening we thought there was a black and white
rooster by the orchard wall, and Quick and I tried to
catch it, and it turned out to be a Skunk? Then my
THE ANIMAL TREE 19

clothes had to be boiled so hard they were no more use,
and Quick tried to get away from himself for almost
two weeks.”

“Oh, yes, Ido. Mammals must have a great many
shapes, Doctor,” continued Rap, thoughtfully. “How
are they made into families?— the same way as
birds?” ae

“In very much the same way. To-night, after sup-
per, I will draw you a picture of a part of this wonder-
ful animal tree, and tell you the names of some of its
branches, and perhaps you will remember a few of them.
I do not wish to bother you with long words, but there
are a few that you must learn.

“The history of this animal tree is the most inter-
esting story in the world, and the Wise Men call it
Zodlogy, after two Greek words that mean the
‘history of animal life.’ ”

“Then that is the reason why an out-door menag-
erie is called a Zo-o-logical Garden,” said Nat, stum-
bling a trifle over the word. ‘Daddy was reading to
mother about such a beautiful garden for wild animals
that is going to be made near New York, — the very
biggest in the world,—so that every one in America
can see how the animals live. Perhaps we can go
there some day and see all the Mammals.”

“Daisy gives milk, so I am very sure I know one
Mammal anyway,” said Dodo, who was growing a little
tired. “Oh! oh!” she cried, suddenly jumping off
the fence. “The sun is going down pop. I never
noticed it, and Rod said I might help milk to-night.
He’s taking the cows in now. Won't you come and
see me do it, Uncle Roy?”
20 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“You help milk?” laughed Nat. “Who taught
you how?”

“Rod; D’ve had four lessons, and J can milk almost
a quart. Then my hands grow all weak and shaky,
and Rod says it’s enough for once, both for me and for
the cow. Daisy is the only one that will let me.”

“Poor, patient Daisy,” laughed the Doctor. “To
be sure we will come and see this famous milkmaid.”

Dodo led the way to the cow barn, where each cow
had a clean stall marked with her name. ‘Then she
.tied a queer sort of apron round her waist, made, like
Rod’s, out of a meal sack, hunted for a small stool, algo
like Rod’s, and prepared in a very businesslike man-
ner to wash off Daisy’s bag with a sponge and some
clean water.

“Bravo! Bravo!” cried the Doctor. “My little
farmer has already learned that everything about milk,
from the animal to the pans, should be very clean.”

“ Zig-zig-zig-zig,” said the milk, spattering on the
bottom of the pail. In a few minutes the spattering
stopped.

“Now it’s beginning to purr like a cat,” explained
Dodo. “It does that when the milk begins to fill up a
little.”

Dodo kept bravely at it until her fingers, now red
and tired, had coaxed about a quart from Daisy.

“That will go for to-night,” she said, though I’m
sure I milked more last time. I’m dreadfully thirsty ;
suppose we drink this now, Uncle Roy. There’s a
glass by the well, Nat,’—and the milk rapidly
disappeared.

“M— mammals; m—=milk,” sang Dodo, skipping
THE ANIMAL TREE 21

ahead toward the house, as the short twilight hurried
after the sun.

“J wish the days were longer,” sighed Rap, turning
to go home.

“ But evening with a wood fire in the wonder room
is lovely,” sang Dodo, “and to-night uncle he, will
draw a tree,””—she sang; then stopped and laughed
at her rhyme.

“Uncle Roy,” she whispered, “it’s been such a
happy day, can we have Rap to help finish off by
toasting crackers in the wonder room, and see you
draw the animal tree? Yes? Wl give you a bear’s
hug!”

“TY reckon there will be a frost to-night,” said Rod,
passing on his way to the house with the milk-pail.

“Frost!” shouted Nat, dancing round in glee.
“ Frost — chestnuts, Rap,—and to-morrow will be
Saturday !”

“How do you like this?” said Comet, looking up
from his oats over to Tom and Jerry, as the stable
door closed with a click. “ Box stalls and two bundles
of clean straw apiece, and warm bran mash for you
beside. Did you ever have anything as nice as this
where you were this summer ?”

“J think the House People here understand a
horse’s feelings,” answered Jerry, plunging his nose
into his supper.
It
WAFFLES AND A WALK

AMMY BUN cooked a delicious
supper for the children that
night, for the circus had put
her in extra good humor.

As it was the first of the
really cool evenings, she sur-
prised them with hot cocoa
in the place of their usual
glasses of milk, and there was
: cream toast, and cold chicken
and tongue sliced daintily together.

The children had famous appetites, and Mr. Blake
said he expected by spring they would all be as fat as
Sausage herself.

“Not if you carry out all the plans I have for mak-
ing you work and keeping you out-of-doors,” said the
Doctor.

“What? What are we going to do? Is there a sur-
prise?” asked Dodo eagerly, reluctantly setting down
her teacup. ‘School takes so much time and the rest
of it is nearly all dark. Oh! I smell waffles!”

“ What is nearly all dark,—the school, or the time,
or the waffles ?” asked the Doctor, as soon as the laugh,
caused by Dodo’s mixed-up sentences, had stopped.

22


WAFFLES AND A WALK 23

“J mean that night comes nowadays very soon after
we come home from school. Why are the days so short
in winter, Uncle Roy, just when we need the sun to
warm us, and so long and hot in summer when we
want to be cool?”

“ Why, it’s the other way round,” said Rap; “it is
because the sun stays up so long in spring and sum-
mer that the days are warm, and because it comes so
late, and hurries to bed, that the days are cold.”

“But why does the sun stay longer some times than
others? Why need the days ever be so very short?”

“Your supper would grow cold if I stopped to
explain,” said the Doctor. “Some day we must make
ourselves into a class in astronomy and learn how
the sun, moon, and stars all go bowling about in
the sky, and how the old earth looked when she was
young.”

“There is the moon now. Oh, how fat it is to-
night,” said Dodo, looking toward a window where the
curtains had not been drawn.

“The hunter’s moon,” said Mr. Blake, “and many a
good time I’ve had by the light of it.”

“Why is it called hunter’s moon, daddy,” asked
Dodo, “and what did you do with the light of it?”

“It is the moon that comes in October when all the
game birds and wild food and fur beasts are through
raising their families, and it is fair for House People
who need fur or food to go and hunt them.”

“Did you ever need food and fur, daddy?” per-
sisted Dodo.

“Yes, sometimes I really did; and should have
starved except for my gun and what it brought me;
24 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

and sometimes perhaps I thought I did,” said Mr. Blake,
looking at the Doctor, who was shaking with laughter.

“Did you ever shoot anything just to see if you
could hit it?” asked Nat.

“Yes; I’m afraid I did often, before I had travelled
over the wild west country and learned for myself that
shooting food and fur beasts to ‘see what you can hit,’
is making this wonderful land of ours as bare of four-
footed things as it will be of birds.”

“Say, Mis’ Cherry, can de young uns hab a spoon 0’
jam ‘long o’ dere waffles?” asked Mammy Bun in what
was meant to be a whisper, popping her head in at the
door.

“Tm afraid not, to-night, mammy,” said Mrs. Blake,
whose girlish name of Cherry, mammy still used.
“We should have the children dreaming of Buffaloes
and Indians and rolling out of bed. Waffles are quite
enough.”

“But Mammy Bun’s waffles are such well-behaved
things that they never hurt anybody,” said Olive.

“Yes,” echoed Dodo, “mammy says it’s all in the
beating up; if you beat waffles ever so hard when
yow’re making them, theyll never talk back after you
eat them. I know something that does talk back,
though — it’s turnips if you eat them raw like apples,
and chew rather quick and then drink water. Oh, it
was dreadful !”

“So, missy has been having indigestion, has she?”
laughed the Doctor.

“Yes; if that name means that inside your chest is

too big for your skin. What makes indigestion, Uncle
Roy?”
WAFFLES AND A WALK 25

“Indigestion comes when the food you eat is not of
the right kind or quality for your stomach mill to turn’
into good flesh and blood. Then it stays in the mill,
swelling up, growing stale and sour, choking up the
little wheels, and souring the wheel grease that helps
them move, causing pain and sickness, until it is turned
out in some way. That is the reason why we should
be careful what we put into the mill.

“To make sure that mammy’s waffles do not grumble,
suppose we all take a little walk down the road before
we go into the wonder room to draw the animal tree.
“ Come, Cherry,” said the Doctor, drawing Mrs. Blake’s
hand through his arm, “you, too. I’m not going to
have you stay in the house all the time. We need you,
and you need the fresh air to give you back the red
cheeks that gave you your pet name. Olive, dear,
please get your aunt’s warm wrap — never mind gloves ;
here is a coat-pocket for each hand,” and the proces-
sion stepped out into the bright moon path.

“There will be no frost until this wind dies down,”
said Mr. Blake.

“What nice clean shadows the trees make,” said
Olive, after they had walked in silence down a lane that
led from the turnpike toward the pastures and spring.

“Hush ! what was that?”

“A bird, maybe, that was sleepy and fell off its
pexch.”’

“No, a Flying Squirrel,” whispered the Doctor.
“There it goes!’’ and on looking up they saw a dark
object, a little larger than a Chipmunk, half spring,
half drop from a birch tree on one side of the lane to
a maple on the opposite side.
26 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Can Squirrels fly? I thought only birds could do
that,” whispered Dodo, awe-struck.

“Took yonder, but keep very still,” said Mr. Blake,
holding back some branches that hid the view of the
spring.

“Tt is a little dog drinking,” said Nat. “What a
bushy tail he has. See, he is going over toward the
barns ; perhaps he is a friend of Quick, or Mr. Wolf.”

“No, it is a Fox, and he is going to see where the
chickens live.”

“A Fox!’ screamed Dodo, forgetting the need for
silence. “A real wild animal! Oh, uncle, do let us
catch it |”

“J very much wish you would,” said the Doctor,
as the Fox raised one paw, sniffed the air, and disap-
peared like magic between some low bushes. -

“He is the most cunning of our. beasts, and if the
wind had been the other way, he would not have given
us-even this peep at him.”

“ What difference does the wind make?” asked Nat.
“Ts he afraid of it?”

“JT know,” said Rap; “for before my leg was hurt
I went often with the miller and his dog to hunt Foxes
that stole his turkeys. Little wild beasts look for
food mostly at night, or late in the afternoon, or early
in the morning, when it isn’t so easy to see, so they use
their smeller to tell them a great many things that
they can’t see with their eyes. They can smell so well
that if the wind was blowing from us to them they
would know we are here and would run away.”

“That is right, my lad,” said the Doctor. “The
wild beasts have a much keener sense of smell and

?
WAFFLES AND A WALK 27

hearing than we House People, and you will do well
when you wish to watch even a Squirrel to keep from
stepping on a dry leaf and to see which way the wind
blows.”

“Only think, we’ve seen a real wild animal,” chuckled
Dodo to Nat.

“Tye seen a Coon and a Muskrat and a Mink,” said
Rap, “ besides Foxes and Squirrels.”

“T know what Mink is,” said Dodo; “it’s nice
brown fur, and I have some of it on my winter coat.

“Uncle Roy is going to take us to the old log camp in
the Owl woods some day, and there are fur beasts up
around there, he says.”

“ Daddy has been all about the wild west country on
business, and he has seen dreadful fierce, wild animals,
and he is going to tell us about them by and by. You
know daddy goes round to find out about the country .
and look for mines that are hidden in the ground,”
explained Nat to Rap, “and that’s why we haven’t seen
much of him for along time. You see mines are often
in very savage places, and now daddy is staying here
this winter to write down all he has seen and draw
plans for people to work by in the spring.”

“Oh, then your father is a miner,” said Rap ; “I’ve
read about them.”

“No, a miner is the man that digs with a pick and
shovel; daddy is the one who digs with his brain and
tells the miner how to work so that the earth won’t
fall in on him, and how to cut away the rock and get
to the treasure. Daddy is what they call a Mining
Engineer!” and Nat stopped suddenly, as if the two
big words were too much for him.
28 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Some day I suppose you will go with him and see
all these things. It zs nice to have two legs,” said
Rap, half sadly, looking at his crutch.

“Never mind; we will be partners. JZ will go out
and hunt, and yow shall write the book about it the way
uncle does, for I don’t like to write.”

“T do,” said Rap, cheering up; “that will be splen-
did.”

“Don’t try to walk through the fence,” said Olive.

Then the children found that they had been so busy
talking that they did not realize they were walking
back toward the farm, until they had bumped into the
front fence instead of opening the gate.

The log fire in the wonder room was not a bit too
warm, and as they gathered around it Mr. Wolf and
Quick came in from the kitchen licking their lips, as if
they had been so busy with supper that they had not -
missed their friends.

Wolf settled himself at Mrs. Blake’s feet with all the
dignity of a St. Bernard, but Quick kept prancing and
springing from one to another with Fox-Terrier ner-
vousness.

“In the spring when we began to learn about birds,
I told you a few facts about their bones and feathers,
the way in which they were made and for what they
were useful,” said Dr. Roy, sitting at his desk and tip-
ping back his chair. “We found the bird was a good
American citizen, and I think you feel now as if you
really had a bowing acquaintance with some of these
feathered folk.”

“Yes,” said Dodo, “I forget some things you said
about them for a while, and then I remember again.
WAFFLES AND A WALK 29

We saw a Screech Owl in the woods yesterday, and I
remembered its name right off, and that it was one of
the good Owls that mustn’t be shot.”

“Good girl, that encourages your old uncle to tell
you more stories this winter about some of the other
creatures that are branches of the wonderful animal
tree.”

Nat and Rap brightened up, and Olive said she
could not imagine anything pleasanter for winter even-
ings.

“But we have to do our lessons in the evenings,”
said Nat, dolefully.

“Uncle Roy will manage it somehow,” said Dodo,
shaking her head confidently; “there is a surprise
somewhere, I know. Ive been expecting it.” At this
Mr. and Mrs. Blake and the Doctor smiled, but said
nothing.

“Uncle Roy,” persisted Dodo, after a pause, “ won’t
you do as you did with the birds, and tell us about
the wild American animals instead of about menagerie
beasts, and then make us a book about them? There
must be as many as fifty kinds of usual animals in
America, counting all those in the west country. T’m
so tired of menagerie beasts —

“¢T, is for Lion who roars in his rage,
T is for Tiger who snarls in his cage,’

that was on my picture blocks when I was a little child.
I had picture books of Cockatoos and other strange
birds, too, but they never seemed to mean anything
until you told us about our American birds.”

“You are right, Dodo,” said the Doctor, “and you
30 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

have given me some new ideas for my surprise. Yes,
there is a surprise hiding somewhere near! We are
to have a winter camp here at the farm, and the
stories told at the campfire shall all be about four-
footed Americans, with a few about some no-footed
and wing-handed ones thrown in.”
IV

CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE




“SSPLENDID!” cried Nat and Rap to-
gether, as soon as they realized what
Dr. Roy said. “ When shall we have
the stories?”

“What isa campfire? Is it made
of logs or coal?” asked Dodo.

“Where are you going to have
the camp? Here in the wonder
room?” asked Olive, who :cwas as
much surprised as her cousins.

“What are no-footed Americans, fishes?” persisted
Dodo.

“Wishes have no feet, and yet these no-footed beasts
are not fishes. The Americans you shall hear about
will all be our blood brothers, the Mammals — the
highest branch of the animal tree, the one that I
said has so many smaller branches that it seems almost
like a whole tree by itself.”

“M—mammals; m—milk,” said Dodo, proud at
not having forgotten. “But, Uncle Roy, we can’t
see all these M— mammals outdoors, as we did the
birds, and there aren’t any here in your wonder room.
How can we tell how they look?”

“You will probably see some of the smaller ones

31
32 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

this winter, just as you saw the Fox to-night. I
have the skins of others packed away in chests; and
some you must learn to know by pictures, until you
have a chance to see them in the Zoo or in a Museum.

“No more questions to-night. You will hear more
about the surprise to-morrow. Now I must try to
tell you how to climb the animal tree, so that you may
step easily from branch to branch and have a general
understanding of its groups and families.”

“This will be harder than learning about bones
and feathers that built the bird.”

“Yes and no! When you began to learn the
geography of our country, what was the first map
you saw, Nat? A map of one state, with all the
mountains, rivers, cities, and towns, large and small?”

*“ Ah, no, uncle; a plain, easy map of the whole of
North America, with only the very big chief moun-
tains, rivers, and land divisions put down. It took
us a long time only to learn the names of the states
and how they were bounded; then by and by we
took them in groups, until at this school we are hav-
ing each state by itself.”

“Precisely. Now, in drawing this animal tree, I
will not put down all small branches and twigs, but
merely the chief branches, so that you may have what
is called a ‘general idea’ of the whole. Then from
time to time you can study by itself any branch that
particularly interests you.

“Now watch,” said the Doctor, drawing rapidly on
a large sheet of cardboard. “Your old uncle is no
draughtsman, but this will do for a beginning, and I
will copy it neatly by and by, so that we can hang
CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE 83

it on the wall of our camp. This animal tree has a
straight trunk, and first come eight branches.”

«Ah! Ah!” cried Dodo. “Mother! Daddy !
Come and look! Uncle is making each branch end
in an animal, so we can see with one peep where
they belong, and the little first animal that belongs to
the trunk hasn’t any more shape than an ink blot !

‘What is that queer little spot, uncle? Has it
a name? Ah! now you are writing the name on
each branch,” chattered Dodo.

After everybody had looked at the sketch of the
animal tree, the Doctor hung it up on the door, and
said he would try to answer a few of their questions
about it.

“These,” said the Doctor, pointing to the lower
branches of the tree that he had drawn, “are the
animals which have no backbones, — Invertebrates, the
Wise Men call them,—and though I do not want
to trouble you with long names, you must try to
remember this one, because it is important and you
will meet it often in reading.

“With these branches begin the lowest forms of
animal life. This little thing on the trunk that Dodo
called an ink blot is the very first form of animal life,
it is called a Protozodén, and it is really so ermal that
you could not, see it without a microscope.”

“That is a. pretty big name for next-to-nothing,
said Rap.

“Yes; but the name, like many of those the Wise
Men give, explains the meaning. It comes from the
Greek words protos (first) and zodn (animal), so among

ourselves we will call the trunk of the tree the first
D
34 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

animal, as it is the first step from the vegetable to
the animal kingdom.”

“Tf it is so small and has so little body, how can
you tell it isn’t a vegetable?” asked Olive.

“Tt is very difficult indeed to distinguish between
the lower forms of animal and vegetable life, and we
must leave the reason why to the Wise Men; for it
puzzles them very often, and I could not explain it
without using long words.”

“Why, Uncle Roy,” said Dodo, “I know a real
simple reason, —animals can move and plants can’t!”

“Wrong, missy; many of the lower animals cannot
move. The coral, for instance, and the oysters, are as
much fixtures as the geraniums in their pots over by
the window.

“But to return to our animal tree. Besides having
no backbones, these lower animals have no_ hearts,
lungs, or brains; they are not built around a bony
skeleton, as birds are or we ourselves. Their vital
parts are held in a single tube. These animals are
of various shapes and live in many ways and _ places,
—on the earth, in the water, and in mud. Among
the lower branches of the animal tree, you will find
things that are familiar to you, though you probably
never have thought what they were, whether animals
or vegetables.

“To repeat all the names, even of the animals that
belong on each branch, would confuse and tire you
sadly, so I will only tell you of some of the principal
kinds that you are most likely to see, to act as steps, so
to speak, by which you may climb to the branch where
our four-footed Americans live.
CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE 385

“On the next branch to the trunk, or First Animal,
belong the Sponges; they are plant-like water animals
that cannot move. Then the Jelly Fishes and Sea
Anemones, which are masses of clear, jelly-like stuff
floating in the sea, and many of these are beautifully
colored.”

“T saw some Jelly Fish when we were at the shore this
summer,” said Dodo. “I walked on some, and though
they felt so slimy they sort of made my feet tingle.”

“Olive,” said the Doctor, “suppose you take out the
blackboard and write the names of these lower branches
who have no backbones.”

THE TRUNK AND SOME OF THE LOWER BRANCHES
OF THE ANIMAL TREE

Protozoa or The trunk. The lowest form of animal life,
First Animals body; asingle cell. Most of them too small
to be seen without microscope.

1. Sponges .... Plant-like water animals that cannot move.

2. Jelly Fishes . . Round masses of clear, jelly-like stuff floating in
the sea. Sea Anemones, etc.

3. Corals ..... The white, lace-like specimens that you have
seen in cabinets, or the polished pink sprays
that are made into ornaments or carved into
beads. You may have thought these some
sort of stones, but corals are tiny, soft-bodied
animals living in cases made of lime. Many
of these cases built up close together form the
beautiful shapes that you know.

4. Star Fishes'. . The five-pointed prickly animals found on sea
beaches. Sea Urchins, etc. Crinoids, etc.
5. Worms..... Long squirming animals, of both land and

water; also living as parasites upon the in-
sides of other animals.
36 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

6. Mollusks. .. . Shell Fish, such as Oysters, Clams and Mussels,
Snails, Slugs, Cuttle Fish, etc.
7. Crustaceans .. Animals covered with a hard shell, having

many legs and a pair of feelers, or antenna,
breathing through gills the air that is dis-
solved in the water. Lobsters, Crabs, etc.,

are Crustaceans.
8. Spiders and (Called Arachnide, from Arachue, the Spinner,
Scorpions ... because they spin webs.) Are a sort of
cousin to Crabs, but live on the earth instead

of in the water.

“The top branches of this group contain the Insects,
with many legs, their bodies being divided into three
parts. Insects go through many changes in the course
of development. Take the butterfly as an example.
First an egg is laid by a fully grown butterfly ; second,
a caterpillar is hatched from the egg; third, the cater-
pillar spins itself into a chrysalis, or cocoon, out of
which comes the winged butterfly. Ants, mosquitoes,
flies, and beetles are all insects.

‘Among the next circle of branches we find the ani-
mals having backbones, the Vertebrates. I think you
will feel more at home with them, and we are more
nearly concerned with them now, as our mammals be-
long in this order, although there are many things you
must some day learn of the many backboneless twigs,
especially about the insects with their wonderful wings
and stings.”

“T suppose my Rattlesnake is a rather low-down Ver-
tebrate, Uncle Roy,” said Nat.

‘*No, my boy, there are two grades below him and
two above. See,”—and the Doctor drew a branch
with five divisions.


SIVWIAVIN

SALVYUGSLYSA



VERTEBRATE BRANCHES OF THE ANIMAL TREE.

37
388 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

THE VERTEBRATE BRANCHES OF THE ANIMAL
TREE
ANIMALS HAVING BACKBONES

Animals with bony skeletons; never having more than two
pairs of limbs. These animals inhabit both land and water, and’
may either swim, fly, crawl, or walk.

Fishes .... Cold-blooded animals that live in water; usually
covered with scales. They breathe through gills,
and in their fins we see the very beginnings of
limbs.

Frogs, etc. . . (Amphibians.) Going through several transforma-
tions, from egg to perfect animal, but having legs
when fully grown. The stepping-stones between
fishes and reptiles.

Reptiles . . . Cold-blooded, egg-laying animals, either with a shell
or scaly covering, living on land or in the water;
some kinds doing both. They have simple, three-
chambered hearts. Alligators, Turtles, and Snakes
are Reptiles.

Birds ..... Warm-blooded, air-breathing animals. They are
covered with feathers, have four-chambered hearts,
and the young are hatched from eggs.

Mammals .. The highest order of animals. Warm-blooded, air-
breathing, having a four-chambered heart and
double circulation. The young are born alive and
nourished by their mother’s milk. Mammals are
all more or less covered with hair. The Whale,
Seal, Cat, Cow, Dog, Rabbit, Mouse, Bat, Monkey,
and Man are Mammals.

“The Mammal branch is so large and important and
has so many small branches and twigs of its own that
by and by I shall make you a tree of it by itself.”

‘Are you going to draw the Mammal tree to-night?”
asked Dodo, anxiously. “Because I think my head is
as full of thinking as it will hold.”
CLIMBING THE ANIMAL TREE 39

“No, missy, not another word to-night; it is half-
past eight, and your mother has been making ‘time-to-
go-to-bed’ signs at me for half an hour.”

“But, mother,” pleaded Dodo, “though my head is
full, my stomach feels real hollow, and we were going
to toast crackers, you know.”

“Very well! Nat, rake open the hot ashes and see
if you can find another pair of tongs. Two crackers
and a glass of milk make a very comfortable night-
cap; for if you go to bed with an empty stomach, you
will probably wake up with an empty head,” said the
Doctor, rubbing his hands together. ‘Am I invited to
this feast?”

“Of course; you and mother and daddy. Olive
belongs with us children. It wouldn’t be a real feast
without you all,” said Dodo, a look of perfect content
resting on her round face.

“Here are three pairs of tongs. Nat, you toast for
mamma, and Rap for uncle, and I'll toast for papa and
Olive; then afterwards we can toast for each other.
It’s lots more fun doing it for somebody else, and then
having somebody do it for you.”

In a moment the three children were crouching in
front of the fire, holding the crackers by the rims with
old-fashioned tongs, over the bed of glowing hickory
fragments.

“The crackers that fall into the fire belong to the
dogs,” said Dodo, consolingly, to Rap, who had just
dropped his first one. “They don’t mind a few
ashes.”

“Here is mammy with the big pitcher,” said the
Doctor. ‘Now all stand in a row and drink a health,
a) FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

in milk, to home, and the blood-brothers whose
acquaintance we are to make—the Four-looted
Americans.”

“Ts Rap going to stay here all night?” asked Nat,
as they put down their glasses.

“No; his mother would worry. Your father and I
will walk home with him; we have some things to tallk
over.”

“Ts it anything to do with the surprise?” asked
Dodo.

“Miss Inquisitive, if you poke your precious nose
so far into things, some day it may be shut in the crack
of a door,” laughed her father.

“Ah! the wind has fallen and the frost has come.
I’m glad Rod covered those pumpkins,” said the
Doctor, who was already out on the porch.

“Then we can go nutting to-morrow,” said Nat,
capering. “Come up early, Rap.”

“We shall go nutting to-morrow, but Rap need not
come up ; we will call for him,” said the Doctor.

“But the chestnuts are all up this way,” persisted
Dodo. :

“I did not say we were going chestnutting,” replied
the Doctor, closing the door so suddenly, that if Dodo’s
nose had been anything longer than a pug it might
really have been squeezed in the crack.

“MM —mammals; m—milk,”’ she half sang, half
whispered, as she stumbled sleepily up to bed, hanging
on her mother’s arm.
Vv

AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY

yy TEN Nat awoke the next
morning, he lay quite still
for a moment, rubbing his
eyes and wondering what
it was that he was trying
to remember.

He did not seem to be in
any more of a hurry to get
up than the sun, who was
only beginning to peep

through the most southerly corner of the orchard trees,
instead of being up above them at this hour, as had
been his habit all summer.

Nat finally opened his eyes and looked toward the
window, still half dreaming about Wild West Shows,
animal trees, and four-footed Americans, wondering
why the light was so speckled. Then as he saw the
frost crystals that covered the panes with their beauti-
ful fern traceries, it all came back like a flash, and he
jumped out, shouting, ‘ There’s been a hard frost, and
we are to go nutting to-day, and hear about the
surprise |”

At the same moment Dodo’s sturdy fist pounded on
the door. Bang, bang, bang! ‘“ Aren’t you up yet,
41


42 ' FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Nattie? I am, and all dressed.” Bang. “My boots
laced to the very top, and my teeth cleaned with
powder.” Bang, bang, bang! Lacing her boots and
cleaning her teeth were usually two weak spots in
Dodo’s toilet, and the fact that she had done both so
early in the morning made Nat feel sure that some-
thing unusual was afoot.

“Yes, I’m up,” said Nat, “and I’ll be ready in a
minute.”

“Father says, put on your thick very old clothes,
and the old boots with the scraped skin.”

“Where are we going? Was there a big frost ?”
spluttered Nat, struggling with his sponge full of water.

“Uncle Roy said he would tell when we are all
dressed. I can’t seem to make Olive hurry one bit,
and breakfast will be at seven, and it’s a quarter to,
now. Only look out, and you'll see what kind of a
frost there was,’ —and Nat could hear the squeak and
flop that she made as she slid down the bannisters and
landed on the rug at the foot of the stairs.

He wiped off the frost with his towel and looked
out. Near the house everything was glittering with
diamonds, for Jack Frost had only fingered the nearby
things, but down in the low pasture by the spring the
blackened ferns showed where he had walked with his
heaviest boots. There was quite a commotion and
bustle over by the barns. The long market wagon
with all three seats screwed in place was pulled out of
its shed, and Rod was putting bundles of straw in the
bottom. Mysterious baskets stood about, and in one
Nat thought he saw a tea-kettle. Who was that man
in a queer furry-looking cap, thick short coat, and leg-


AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 43

gins buttoned up to his knees? Nat looked again and
then exclaimed to himself, “ Why, it’s daddy, and the
other humpy-looking man is uncle!” Then he hurried
on with dressing as the only means of solving the
mystery.

This morning there was a roaring fire in the Franklin
stove in the dining-room. ‘This stove, which is a sort
of open fireplace on legs that stands out a little way
from the chimney, throws more heat into the room
than a hearth fire.

“Now,” said the Doctor, coming in with his arm
around Olive, who met him in the hall, “hold your ears
wide open and stand away from the table so that you
will not break the china.

“We are going to the far-away hickory woods, where
we expected to go on Dodo’s birthday to look for owls !
Stop a moment! that is not all. Instead of taking
sandwiches and such things for lunch we are going to
take pots and pans and food and play camp-out and
cook our dinner and supper in the woods, and come
home by moonlight !”

“That will be fine,” said Olive. “I half expected
this last night.”

“Jolly!” cried Nat. .

“ But,” said practical Miss Dodo, “if we are to cook,
Mammy Bun will have to go, and being out after dark
will make her grumble about her bones.”

“Tam the c-oo-k who is going with you to-day,” said
Mr. Blake, coming in; “and a very good cook, too,
I can tell you.”

“Why, daddy,” exclaimed both children, “can you
cook, and out in the woods, without any stove, too?”
44 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Indeed I can, and many’s the day that your Uncle
Roy and I have not only had to cook for ourselves, but
catch or shoot our own provisions, and as for stoves —
we often hadn’t even a bough wind-break over us, and
slept on the ground in our blankets.”

“On the ground? And wasn’t it wet, and didn’t
things bite you? Ah, what is that? Come, look out
here, Uncle Roy. Wolf and Quick have caught some
kind of a wild beast. It’s too small for a Fox. What
is it?”

“One of the big Woodchucks who would not go
in the trap we set in the rocky pasture, and who is
rather late in holing up. ‘They generally go to sleep
for the winter before hard frost.”

“Why don’t they freeze?” said Dodo. “You told
us once that it was very extra dangerous to go to sleep
out doors in cold weather, — that we would freeze in a
twinkling.”

“Ts that beast one of the four-footed Americans you
are going to tell us about?” asked Nat. “What queer
long teeth he has: two upper and two under ones, with
straight edges, and no little pointed ones like our eye-
teeth. Do the four-footed Americans belong to guilds
the same as the birds do, Uncle Roy ?”

“Yes, my boy; and those four powerful teeth show
to what guild the Woodchuck belongs, —the greatest
guild among the Mammals, — the Gnawers.

“Mother is coming,” said Dodo, going to the stairs
to meet her, as Mammy Bun came in the opposite door
with the coffee-pot. ‘Now everything is started,
*cause nothing really begins right end up until mother
comes ! ”






THE WOODCHUCK.


Se

AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY AGB

The Doctor would not let the children hurry their
breakfast, and Mr. Blake said, “Eat all you can now,
for you may not like my cooking.”

« Are you not going to take some cake or bread, or
at least cold chicken?” asked Mrs. Blake.

“No, dear; not even bread. Ginger cookies are the
only cooked food allowed. I want to give the children
a nibble at the way people live who explore, or hunt,
or for any other reason take to a wild life. Don’t
worry; we shall neither starve nor be out quite all
night, though it may be late before we return.”

Tom and Jerry were harnessed to the farm wagon,
so Comet was left home by himself. “You see this
wagon is only suitable for stowt horses,” said ‘Tom, with
a wink to his mate, as they drove round to the house.

“Are you sure you have everything?” asked Mrs.
Blake, anxiously.

“T will give you a list of our belongings: a tea-
kettle, a coffee-pot, a frying-pan, and a small tin kettle,
six tin plates, cups, knives and forks, salt, pepper,
sugar, coffee, flour, part of a ham, a dozen eggs, a small
bag of potatoes, a quart of beans, a ball of stout cord,
my shot-gun, a small axe, a shovel, and plenty of
matches.”

“’Pears like you uns was calkerlatin’ to plant a gar-
din, wif beans and p’taters and a shovel,” chuckled
Mammy Bun, who was never far away when a picnic
was about to start. “For de law’s sakes, Massa Doctor,
do fetch along a jar o’ sas,—all dem vittles am chokin’
dry!”



e
“Mr. Blake is the cook, and you know, mammy, cooks
don’t like to be interfered with.”
46 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“No mo’ do they,” she chuckled.

They stopped at Rap’s house and found him waiting,
with a feed-bag, all ready for the nuts he expected to
get.

“ Which way are the hickory woods?” asked Olive ;
“toward the shore or inland?”

“Tnland and almost twenty miles due north of here.
There was a logging camp there years ago. I am sure
that you have never been in that direction.” -

“Ts there any river in the woods?” asked Rap.
“Perhaps we may see some wild ducks.”

“There is a strong, swift river beyond where we are
going, though I am not sure that we shall get so far to-
day, but there is a small river and pond near the hick-
ory woods, where you may see ducks. It is by the big
river that the lumber camp is, where Olaf expects to
stop for a few months this winter.”

Some of the trees that were almost covered the day
before had dropped their leaves entirely after the hard
frost, and the Red Squirrels were chattering and running
along the stone fences. One little fellow was carrying
a nut in each cheek, and looked very comical, as if he
either had the mumps or a toothache.

“JT never noticed before how many Squirrels there
are about here. I suppose because the leaves hid them.
Are they Mammals, Uncle Roy, and what guild do they
belong to?” asked Dodo.

“Yes, they are Mammals, and they belong to the
same guild as the Woodchuck, — the Gnawers. Watch
that little fellow as he sits up and turns the nut about
with his paws, which he uses quite as we do our
AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 47

hands. See how quickly he gnaws through the hard
shell.”

“So he does,” cried Nat.

“Chipmunks gnawed up a lot of our seckle pears
this year before they were ripe,” said Rap. “ They
seemed to want the seeds, for they left the fruity part
chipped up all over the grass under the tree.”

“That is one of their habits; in fact, the bad habit
of the whole guild, that they destroy much more than
they need for food.”

‘Most of the little beasts hereabouts belong to the
Gnawers, don’t they, Doctor!” asked Rap. “Squirrels,
Chipmunks, Muskrats, Rats, Mice, Woodchucks, Rab-
bits, and all such things ?”

“ Yes, all those belong to the Gnawers, and some of
them we call vermin, or, as Dodo says, ‘ Nuisance Ani-
mals,’ who do more harm than good. Yet many of
them are wonderfully intelligent, and it seems hard
sometimes to say that we should kill even one of these
little mischief-makers.

“The great balance wheel of Nature is so carefully
made and well planned by its Maker that we must
always touch it reverently.”

“What do you mean by balance wheel, Uncle Roy?”
asked Nat.

“This, my lad. In this world of ours nothing, from
the least grain of sand to the strongest animal, was
made for itself alone. Each thing depends upon some
other thing, which is equally dependent in its own turn.
So we may compare this plan to a wheel which, though
it is made of many different parts, — hub, spokes, rim,
and tire, — would not be a useful, perfect wheel if even
48 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

a single spoke were missing, so much does the strength
of the whole depend on even the least part. We may
think that this animal or that is of no use, until we
find by experience that it filled its place as a small but
important spoke in this life-wheel.”

“ But, father,” said Olive, “it is surely necessary for
us to kill Rats and Mice and other nuisance animals?”

“Certainly, we must kill them now because the
balance wheel has been so disturbed that these animals
have multiplied out of their due proportion and we have
made ourselves responsible for their increase. This is
a penalty man has to pay in many ways for eating of
the fruit of the tree of knowledge. He has to labor to
accomplish many things that Heart of Nature intended
doing for him.”

“Then maybe if people hadn’t shot so many Owls
and good Cannibal Birds, it would have helped keep
down the nuisance animals,” ventured Dodo. ‘Oh,
uncle, what are those funny little haystacks down in
the water in the marsh meadow?”

“Muskrat huts. Stop a minute, Olive, and let us
look at them,” said the Doctor, shading his eyes with
his hands. “The animals who make their homes in
those haystacks, as Dodo calls them, are very curious
as well as both mischievous and useful. They look
like something between the Woodchuck the dogs
brought in this morning and a great Rat. They are
a little under a foot long, and they can swim as fast
as a Duck. Their front toes have long claws for
scratching, and their back toes webs for swimming:
They live in the banks of rivers and ponds in summer,
and retire into these huts, made of rushes and old weeds,
AN AUTUMN WOLIDAY 49

before winter. They will suck eggs and steal poultry
like common Rats. They have a stiff, hairy-looking
coat, but underneath it is soft, beautiful fur. Why,
that old cap your father is wearing is Muskrat fur —
where did you get it, Blake?”

“Out West, with many other such things to keep out
cold. But this is only the common uncolored skin ;





Front Paw anp Tain oF Muskrat.

the furriers dye it a soft brown, selling it for French
seal,—and a very pretty fur it is, too, for caps and
mittens.”

“There seem to be a good many wild animals about
here, even though it’s a pretty tame place —I mean a
civilized place,” said Nat, correcting himself. “I never
thought that we should find fur beasts so near home.
I'd like to see into one of those Muskrat houses, uncle.”

‘And so you shall, as soon as it is cold enough for
the water that surrounds it to be frozen so that we can
walk tothem. The story of that animal and his cousin,
the Beaver, is enough to fill a book all by itself.”’

E
50 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

After they had jogged along a fairly level road for
a couple of hours, the children asking questions and
begging to get out at intervals, to pick up some par-
ticularly nice apple that had fallen outside a fence and
been passed by in the general harvest, they turned into
a lane road with turf between the wheel tracks. The
ground now began to rise in a zig-zag fashion between
a wall of hemlock and pine trees, under which were
mats of ground pine, partridge berry, and wintergreen.

Whirr-whirr, and a pair of large brownish birds flew
up from the roadside and disappeared in some bushes.

“What were those birds as big as chickens?”
screamed Dodo. “Oh, why didn’t some one catch
them? They went right by your nose, Olive !”

“J think partly because I was as much surprised as
they were,” laughed Olive.

“As fine a pair of Ruffed Grouse as one could wish
for dinner,” said Mr. Blake.

“ Ah, papa, you wouldn’t eat them?” wailed Dodo.

“Why not, girlie? They are game birds made for
food; their nesting is over, and this is the season that
the Wise Men say we may take them by fair hunting.”

“What is fair hunting? I don’t think any hunting
is fair.”

“Using no trap or snare, but following the game
afoot, if it be birds with gun and dog, killing no more
than you need. If it is a Deer, Elk, Moose, or Ante-
lope, using your own -perseverance and rifle without a
dog, and never taking a doe or fawn unless absolute
starvation stares you in the face.”

“But if you are trying to kill nuisance animals?”
asked Rap.
EE

AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 61

“Then use gun, trap, snare, poison, or any other
means you have; but never put a nuisance animal to
ee leave even a rat to die miserably in a
trap.”

“J guess I'll let you do my hunting for me, daddy,”
said Dodo, duly impressed. “1d rather not kill any-
thing myself.”

“And J had much rather you would not,” said Mr.
Blake, putting his arm around her. “ Keep your little
heart tender. There is greater need for such things
than for game and guns in this world nowadays, little
daughter. I would not now willingly kill a big game
animal myself and see the light fade from its bright
eyes and the last flutter of its breast.”

“Tt wouldn’t be any harm if we learned how to shoot,
would it, daddy?” asked Nat. “’Way back in the sum-
mer Uncle Roy said perhaps you would teach me some
time, and Rap, too,” for the boys had long since become
inseparable.

“Certainly, you shall learn this very fall. Every
man should know how to shoot and handle a gun prop-
erly, if need requires. Shooting game fairly is a manly
art, and it is also a manly art to know when and what
not to shoot.”

“See the river,” said Dodo. “You called it little,
but it is much bigger and swifter than our river. Oh,
what a queer bridge, and all the evergreen trees are on
the rocks on one side, and great tall barky trees with
no leaves on the other.”

“This is the beginning of the hickory wood, where
we are going. It looks to me as if some one had been
making improvement here, since my day,” said the


52 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Doctor. ‘Though the biggest trees are gone, the dead
ones seem to have been taken away from year to year,
and the young growth encouraged.”

“Stop a minute, Olive; your father, Nat, and I will
walk this last mile; the road is too steep and rough
for a full load.”

“Ts the far west country wilder than this?” asked
Dodo, who of course wished to walk with the others,
holding tight to her uncle’s hand. “TI think it’s lonely
enough for Tigers here, if it was only warm enough.”

“Bless my heart, this is not wild! You have a road
to walk on; you know where you came from and where
you are going. To call a country really wild it must
have no roads, but only gaps or trails between the trees,
and often not even these, but you must cut a path for
yourself. You will more frequently know where you
wish to go than where you are going; and you are
never sure when, if ever, you will get back to the place
from which you started.”

“ What is that ahead? Smoke coming from the hill-
side. It must be from the charcoal-burner’s hut that
Olaf spoke of last summer. I supposed that was the
‘other side of the mountain, but I see the wood here is
about right for making charcoal.”

The Doctor and Dodo had fallen behind Mr. Blake
and Nat. When they overtook them they found that
the lane ended in some high hickory woods, and Mr.
Blake suggested they couldn’t find a better place to
halt and make their play camp.

While they were discussing where it would be°best
to tie the horses, a tall, thin, but wiry man, came noise-
lessly from among the trees and stood looking at the
AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 538

party. He had a long, straight nose like a. Fox, and
deep-set eyes ; his face was as brown as his beard, and
his clothes were very much like some of those worn by
the scouts in the Wild West Show, his shoes being
without seams, like moccasins.

In spite of his strange face and dress there was noth-
ing forbidding about him, and he had a pleasant smile
as he stepped noiselessly up.

“A woodsman, I know,” said Mr. Blake to himself,
scarcely looking at the man’s face, but judging by his
soft tread.

The man stood still a second, looking as if he saw
some familiar object, but from a great distance, and
then exclaimed, “I want to know!”

The Doctor and Mr. Blake both started forward, and
the strange man grasped each by the hand.

“Nez Long! Is it possible?” said the Doctor, clap-
ping him on the back with his free hand, while the
children stood looking on in amazement. Olive, how-
ever, knew who he was as soon as she heard the name,
and explained to the others, while the three men con-
tinued to talk eagerly.

Nez was a man from northern Maine whom her father

‘and uncle had known out West. He had been a trapper,

hunter, and cowboy, all by turns, and the head of a lum-
ber camp in Canada. The French Canadians called
him’ Nez Long, which means “long-nose” in their lan-
guage. He had once saved Mr. Blake’s life, when he
was almost crushed by a falling tree and in danger of
being torn by a bear, but how he came in the hickory
wood she of course did not know.

“Yes, I’m the charcoal-burner, I reckon, now, and
54 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

canoe-maker, too, and do a bit o’ huntin’ and trappin’
raound about, and raise some truck t’other side o’ the
woods, and get out railroad ties. Ive a camp 0’? my
own inside the first belt, and a wife, and she isn’t a
squaw neither, and two young uns. You see I’ve got
some property at last, Doc, in spite of being a sort of
wild Injun myself. We live in a log house, though ;
we'd choke in any other kind,—imy woman an’ me’s
agreed on that. She was ’YToinette Pardeau — old
Dominique’s daughter. You'll remember him; he was
your guide the day you got that thunderin’ big Bear.
All these your young uns, Jake?”

“What a queer man,” said Dodo. “And not very
polite. He calls Uncle Roy, Doe, and daddy, Jake. I
don’t think he is nice.” ;

“You must remember,” said Olive, “that he has
been with them in wild places and they have shared
danger, and worked and hunted together as if they
were brothers, and when men do this, the Mister drops
away from their names, and they feel to each other
as you and Nat and Rap do.”

“Of course they must,” said Dodo, repentantly, “and
he picked the tree off daddy ;” so, without hesitating,
she walked up to him, holding out her hand, and saying
solemnly, “ Good morning, Mr. Long Nose, I’m glad to
meet you and thank you very much for taking the tree
off daddy’s leg.”

“TI want to know!” stuttered Nez, more surprised
than if a Grizzly Bear had spoken to him.

livery one laughed then, and it did not take long to
explain why they were there, and how they were going
to cook dinner camp-fashion ; and Nat feeling the sud-
AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 55

den confidence in Nez that young people and dogs have
in those who really love them, said, “I’m going to
learn to shoot this winter and hear all about the wild
American animals, and sometimes you will let us come
to see you, won’t you, and you'll tell us stories?”

“Oh, do,” echoed Dodo, looking up at him with a
smile that generally had yes, as its reward, “and per-
haps you'll tell us just one story for dessert to-day.”

“Sure enough I will,” he answered; “and I'll set
you a camp and a fire all slick and ready while you’re
a-gettin’ your nuts. Then you can come over yonder,”
and without more ado he disappeared in the trees.

“Where are the nuts?” asked Dodo, looking up to
the sky.

“On the ground partly and in the trees mostly,”
said Olive. “If these trees in front of us had a good
shaking, we could pick up enough hickories to last all
winter.”

The horses were unharnessed, tethered to stumps
and blanketed; for in spite of the bright sun the air
was keen, and the wind had suddenly sprung up, scat-
tering the leaves and sending down quite a hailstorm
of nuts.

When Mr. Blake and the Doctor, climbing some of
the smaller trees, aided the wind in its work, the nuts
gave the gatherers such a pelting that they had to stop
until the squall was over.

“Tt’s almost too easy to be fun,” said Nat, as they
tied up the mouth of Rap’s bag, which was already
filed. “I think I’d rather hunt for things a little
longer.”

“Good boy,” said his father ; “that is the spirit that
56 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

makes a real sportsman, —the watching and waiting
and finding, not simply the greedy getting that makes
the selfish sort of man I call a Hunting Wolf.”

“You had better make the most of this easy nutting,
though,” said the Doctor, “for when it comes to pick-
ing up chestnuts, you will have to look and poke about
between the leaves and stones, I can tell you.”

“J wonder what Mr. Long Nose is doing, and how
he is going to fix our camp for us,” said Dodo, empty-
ing her little basket into the big one for the third time.
“J think we have enough now.”

“J thought there was some other reason for your
hurry beside the filling of the bags. I never knew
before that children could have too many nuts. But
dom’t call your friend Long Nose, Dodo; he has a real
name, though it was never used among his camp-mates.”

“What shall I call him then — Mr. Long?”

“No; simply Nez, pronounced as it is spelled; he
will understand it better, for if you called him Mister,
he would be put out, perhaps.”

“Oh, what a big Squirrel!” called Nat. “Twice as
large as those about the farm, and all one color, like a
Maltese cat, only a little browner. There is another,
and another yet, chasing about like anything! See,
Uncle Roy; up there!”

“Gray Squirrels, and fine ones, too. These are
exactly the sort of. woods that suit them; plenty of
hickories and beech trees, and water not far away.”

“How many kinds of American Squirrels are there ?”
asked Dodo, “and is the lining of mother’s coat made
of the fur of this gray kind?”

“There are sixty or seventy kinds in North
AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 57

America, but the Red, Gray, the big Fox Squirrel, and
the little Chipmunk, or Ground Squirrel, are the ones
most likely to interest you. The lining of your
mother’s coat is probably made of the skins of a
Russian Squirrel. Strange as it may seem, the skins
of our species are too thin and tender to let them go
in the list of valuable fur-bearing animals.”

“IT suppose they are like the Moleskin that Rod
gave me to make a muff for my doll. It cracked like
a piece of paper, and wouldn’t stay sewed well, and
it had a very queer smell that took a day to wash off
my hands. Why do some animals have such strange
smells, Uncle Roy ?”

“For two reasons. There are protective smells and
signal smells. ‘The Skunk’s odor belongs to this first
sort, and he uses his evil odor as a weapon of defence
and seems to thoroughly understand its power, for very
few of the large beasts of prey ever care to get within
range of it.

“The signal smells are as important to the Four-
footed People as speech is to House People. In fact,
the power of scent largely takes the place of speech
with them. What they lack in tongue is made up by
a wonderful keenness of ear and nose.

“A Fox goes through a lane and can tell by the
smell whether it is a dog who has been there before
him or a brother Fox. .The dog in his turn who fol-
lows knows by the scent where the Fox has gone and
can find him unless he crosses water.”

“Why can’t he follow him across water? Does it
wash away the smell?” asked Nat.

“Exactly, but —”
58 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“What is that terrible noise,” cried Olive, starting,
and they all listened, somewhat startled, while Dodo
crept close between her father and uncle, saying, “ It
must be a very wild sick cow that is hurt.”

“Tf we were in a swamp a couple of hundred miles
further north, instead of here in a hickory wood, I
should say it was either a cow Moose or else some one
imitating one,” said Mr. Blake.

“Why, it’s Nez, of course,” said Dr. Roy. “He used
to be one of the best Moose callers along the border.
He is ready for us to come up, and has taken that way
to call us, though we are not Moose.”

“Let’s go quick and see,” said Dodo, recovering her
courage, and hurrying the party along. ‘“ What are
Moose, and what do people call them for?” :

“Moose are the largest of our Deer. The cry we
have just heard is the cow Moose’s call to her mate.
Men who hunt the Moose imitate this call, and, the
bull (which is the name given male Moose and Elk)
comes hurrying up to meet, not his mate, but a bullet.”

“Do you call that fair hunting, daddy?” asked
Nat.

“No, I do not; unless the hunter is hungry and can-
not get food in any other way, it seems to me little bet-
ter than setting a trap. A sportsman should show his
skill in finding the Moose, not calling him by a trick.”

“ Yes,” said Nat, “I understand that. It’s the same
as if when we play hide-and-seek I wanted Dodo, and
instead of hunting for her I cried or did something to
make her come out, and then cried ‘I spy.’”

“ Look, father! Look there!” said Olive. ‘It’s
like the old days in Canada.”
AN AUTUMN HOLIDAY 59

Ags they left the narrow footpath where they had
been walking in Indian file they stepped into an open
space from which all the trees had been cut, as well as
the underbrush. At the further side, with its back
against the hill toward the north, was a log-cabin with
small windows in the front and sides. A little way from
it was a sort of long shed, roofed with hemlock boughs,
under which was a grindstone, some tools, ete. In the
centre of the open square the earth was black, and there
were many ashes, as if a fire had often burned there.

At one side Nez himself was at work, axe in hand,
before a sort of tent made of two upright poles, and
a crosspiece against which he was laying hemlock
boughs. Not far from this two logs about five feet
long were placed side by side on the ground. The
upper side was shaved off; at one end they were about
four inches apart and at the other eight. Between this
was a line of glowing charcoal, kept from burning the
logs by the earth which was heaped against them. At
either end there was an upright stake, and a bar was.
laid between these so that it came about a foot and a
half above the fire. -
VI
OUT-DOOR COOKERY

{ETCH yer blankets. Thar’s
Yo syer lean-to and thar’s yer
stove,” said Nez, pointing to
the slanting hemlock roof
and the line of glowing
coals. “Now git out yer
kit and yer grub, and let’s
see what sort of a feed we
can cook up.”

“The woman and the
young uns are gone over the mountain to Chestnut
Ridge tradin’, but they’ll be home b’fore night. I’d be
pleased to have yer eat in the cabin b’yon’ there, but
yer seemed to want to play campin’.”

~The three children looked on in open-eyed wonder,
but Olive, who had some experience in woodcraft, be-
gan sorting and arranging the things that Mr. Blake,
the Doctor, and Nez brought up from the wagon.

First she put the food and cooking utensils on
planks near the fire, and then- spread the wagon
cushions at the back of the brush lean-to, and laid
some extra horse blankets upon them.

“YT wonder why uncle brought six blankets when
there are only two horses,” said Nat.

60


OUT-DOOR COOKERY 61

“We'll see before we get home,” said Dodo; “we
always do.”

Next Olive filled the tea-kettle from a pail of water
Nez brought from a spring on the hill above the cabin,
and hung it on the crossbar over the fire.

“JT know what that stick is for, anyway,” said Nat.

“ |’ve fixed sticks like that to hold a kettle, and I’ve
roasted chestnuts and potatoes in hot ashes,” said Rap ;
“put I can’t think what those two logs are for, and
why ee are fixed wider apart at one end than at
the other.”

“That is easily explained,” said Mr. Blake, begin-
ning to untie his packages of groceries. ‘You see
the bottom of the coffee-pot is smaller than the tin
kettle, and the frying-pan is larger than either. Now,
if we set the coffee-pot on the narrow end, it fits nicely,
but the kettle would not get enough heat, so that
stands where the logs are wider apart, and the frying-
pan further along; and if we wanted to cook some-
thing in a wire broiler, it could go at the very end.
Isn’t this log stove a great invention?”

“Y-e-s,” said thé children; “but what are you go-
ing to cook?”

“Roast the potatoes in the ashes, boil the coffee,
fry the ham and eggs in this pan, tie strings to the
stems of these apples and hang them on the rod by
the tea-kettle.

“We will begin with the. potatoes and apples,” said
Mr. Blake, “for they take the longest to cook. How
is it for game about here, Nez? I brought my gun,
thinking I might get a few Quail; but it’s taken us
so long to come up that there is not time.”
62 . FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Quail and Grouse, plenty, and some Woodcock,
if you know where to go. The woman is takin’ a
bunch now to trade over the mountain, and Stubble,
my dog, has gone with her, or I’d send him out with
you. Here’s a pair o’ Grouse that have hung since

_day before yesterday; they’ll roast first-rate, if youll
have ’em.”

Nez went to the shed and brought back a pair of
Partridges, or Ruffed Grouse, as they should be called,
both males, with ruffs of lustrous green feathers.

“ How pretty !” said Dodo, stroking them; “would
it be any harm for me to wear those wings in my hat
after we have eaten the birds?”

“Ts is no harm to use the wings of food birds for
ornament; the only danger is that people, who do
not care or know the difference, or understand about
Citizen Bird, may wear the wings of Song Birds by
mistake.”

“ How can we roast them without an oven?” asked
Rap, as they watched Nez pulling off the wing and
tail feathers, but not otherwise plucking the Grouse.
“Hang them with a string over the fire?”

“Tn the ashes along o’ the potatoes,’ rephed Nez,
at the same time going near the spring and bringing a
spadeful of pliable, clayey earth, which, by wetting, he
kneaded into two sheets a little thicker than pie crust.

“What can he be doing?” whispered Dodo to
Olive ; “do you suppose he really eats mud pies?”

“No, dear; of course not. Watch!”

Nez laid a bird in the centre of each sheet of
clay dough, after wetting its feathers, which he
wrapped all around it as if it were an apple in a
OUT-DOOR COOKERY 63

little dumpling. Then he dug out a small oven-
like hole under the broadest part of the fire, into
which he put the Grouse, covered them with ashes,
and raked the live coals back over the spot.

“Won't they be all burned and dirty?” whispered
Dodo to Olive.

“ Wait and see,” was her answer.

While the dinner was cooking, Nez led the party,
all except the cook, about his clearing, as he called it.

At first the cabin seemed very dark, but they soon
saw that it had two rooms separated by a great chim-
ney piled up of broad rough stones. One room was
the kitchen and living room, and the other the bed-
room. This had berths nailed to the wall, not unlike
those in a ship or sleeping car. The bedding con-
sisted of coarse gray blankets, spread over fresh hem-
lock boughs and straw.

The fireplace was open and wide, and on the living-
room side some long logs were piled one on top of the
other, with smaller sticks and kindlings in front.

“We keep er sort uv campfire in here cold nights,
yer see, Doctor. When once you've been uster sleepin’
by a fire, you miss it dredful. I’ve got a stove in
here,” he said, pointing to the kitchen; “but in warm
weather we cook outside on the logs. When you’ve
spent twenty or thirty years sleepin’ mostly under
the sky, any kind uv a roof seems crampy, so in sum-
mer season I lie out yet.”

“Did you ever sleep all night outdoors, like daddy
and uncle, with no tent or anything?” asked Dodo,
in an awe-struck tone, leaving the boys, who were look-
ing at the strange assortment of things that hung from
64 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the rafters of the cabin, stood in corners, or were stuck
in the little cracks between the logs. — Fishing-poles,
a Winchester rifle, a double-barrel shot-gun, bunches
of herbs, the furry skins of several kinds of small
beasts, a Fox tail fastened to a stick for a duster, and
many other fascinating objects.

“Sleep out all night, missy?” said Nez in astonish-
ment; “why, o’ course, that wuz always the kind of
campin’ I did when I wuz trappin’.”

“Why didn’t wild beasts eat you, and why didn’t
you get all damp and mouldy?” persisted Dodo.

“Mostly on account of the dry air in those places,
and campfires, I reckon, and sleepin’ with one eye
open,” said Nez, laughing. “Here comes Renny, he
wants his supper, I guess.”

“Why, it’s a Fox! Won’t he bite? I thought
Foxes were wild beasts,” said Nat, as a young Fox,
looking something like a small collie dog, trotted up
to the cabin, sniffing about and eyeing the strangers
suspiciously.

“That Fox won’t bite, he’s a pet of the young uns.
His mother was killed for chicken stealin’, I reckon,
along.in May; and Stubble nosed out the hole on the
other side of the mountain, and I found two pups in
it. One died, and we raised this. We’ve got a
young Coon, too, somewhere about.”

“He is just as pretty as a dog. Will he never run
away and try to find his mother?” asked Rap. “I
had a tame Coon once, and it stayed round all right,
but along in the second spring it ran away.”

“T reckon the Fox will too, when he gits old enough
to take a mate and set up house for himself. They all
OUT-DOOR COOKERY 65

do, —birds and beasts and folks too, — everybody likes
to have a place of his own. Don’t he, Doctor? Here
I was a-roamin’ all over creation, no idea uv stayin’
put anywhere, and here I am settled down and. what
they call civilized.”

The Doctor laughed and walked off with Nez to see
his charcoal pit and bit of cleared land, where he
raised potatoes and beans, while the children still
looked wonderingly about the cabin.

“I wonder why the leaves are swept away so clean
all about here?” said Dodo. “It looks so much pret-
tier to have leaves and pine needles on the ground.”

“On account of fire,’ said Olive. ‘When you
camp out, you have to be very careful about fire, espe-
cially in places where there are many evergreen trees.
Nez cooks out of doors and works often under that
shed, and has a log fire to warm him; and if the
ground were covered with dry leaves, the fire might
spread all through the woods.”

“J’m so very hungry,” said Dodo, presently; ‘ suppose

we go over and see how daddy is getting along with
his cooking.”
_ “There must be Coons living around here,” said Rap,
looking eagerly into some old trees. “I see lots of
likely holes, and there’s a splendid lot of brush down
hill there for Rabbits. Say, Nat, I wonder when we
learn to shoot if Nez wouldn’t let us come here and get
something to eat and then cook it? It would be great
sport!”

“We can ask him, anyhow. There, daddy is beckon-.
ing to us, and I smell ham. C-o-m-i-n-g, c-o-m-i-n-g,”
Nat shouted.

F
66 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Tt’s all ready,” said Dodo, who had gone ahead,
“only Uncle Roy and Nez have wandered away, and
daddy says we must not dig out the roast birds until
they come back. Can’t you moo-oo to call them,
daddy, the same way that Nez did?”

“T can try, girlie. Nat, go over to the cabin and
see if you can find a great cone-shaped thing made of
bark.” :

Nat soon returned breathless, but with the desired
article.. “It was hanging by the chimney on an old
pair of some kind of queer flat spiked Deer horns.”

“ Antlers, Nat; we don’t call those things horns when
they belong to Deer. They must be the antlers of Nez’
famous Moose. You must ask him to tell you about it
some day. Let me have the horn.”

“Tt’s like a little megaphone, you know,” said Nat ;
“the thing they called out the programme with at the
circus, only that was tin and this is old dry bark.”

“So it is, and that, ike many other things, had its
beginning in some simple invention of a woodsman.
Let me have it — Moo-00-00-0! Wher! Moo-o0-00-0 !”

“Oh, what a queer foggy noise!” cried Dodo, stop-
ping up her ears.

“T’m afraid, Uncle Jack,” said Olive, “if I were a
Moose I should run away from a mate with such a
voice.”

“May I try ?” said Rap.

“Certainly. I never was a good Moose caller, it
always gave me a sore throat.”

Rap took the cone and called gently at first, raising
the horn and then lowering it to the ground, making a
very good imitation of Nez’ call.
OUT-DOOR COOKERY 67

“ Bravo!” cried Mr. Blake; “some one must have
taught you that, my boy.”

“Tye seen the lumbermen do it over at the far
mountain.”

“ Are there Moose anywhere near here?” asked Olive.

*“ Oh, no; but the men had worked in North Maine
and Canada, and they used to sit round the fire and tell
boast stories of what they had done, and showed how
they called Moose.”

“ Boast stories, what are those?” asked Olive.

“Stories about animals they had hunted so long ago
that every time they told about the beast it got bigger
and bigger, until it wouldn’t have known itself.”

Mr. Blake laughed heartily at Rap’s description, as if
he thoroughly appreciated his meaning.

“When we sit by the campfire thinking of past days
that have pleased us, we often see them through the
firelight as we do things in dreams, which are part
imagination and part memory. Alwaysremember, boys,
that the adventures we have under the open sky and
the friends we make around the campfires and in the
silence of strange places—open prairie or trackless
wood—are different from the doings and acquaintances
of every day, and the account of them must always seem
unreal to those who have not been there.”

“You called fust rate the second time,” said Nez to
Mr. Blake, returning from showing his farm, as he
called it. “It was a little onsertin at fust—”

“Praise Rap; the call I gave was called a ‘foggy
noise’ by Dodo.”

“Was that you, little chap? .Want to know! Was
you raised in the North Woods?”
68 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“No, but I’ve always wanted to live in the woods
the way you do; but you see woods are too far away
from people for mother to get any washing to do.”

“Never you mind,” said Nez, “after the first snow
you come up and stop with me a spell, and I'll show you
how to git some Rabbits and a Grouse or two for your
mammy, when Ive got my Muskrat and Mink traps
set. There’s no big game hereabouts, at least none
bigger than a Fox or a Porkipine, a Coon or maybe a
couple o’ Wild Cats strayin’ about. But you can see
how the night comes in the woods, and I'd learn you
the tracks of some o’ the fur beasts. If we get good
deep snow down along the river medders, I'll show you
how to walk on snow-shoes, too; maybe it'll come in
handy some day.”

“T couldn’t learn that on account of my leg, but Nat
could, and he’d love it,” said Rap, cheerfully.

“Dinner, dinner,” called the Doctor, ‘and stories
afterward. Dodo is very anxious to see you open the
mud pies, Nez.”

‘“¢Come and sit on the cushions under this nice wind
break,” said Olive, going to the lean-to that Nez had
made-of the hemlock boughs. ‘“ Here are your plates
and cups, — you be waiter, Nat, and take them to Uncle
Jack.”

“What do you call your camp, Nez?” asked Mr.
Blake.

“Settledown,”’ said Nez, laughing, “’cause we’ve set-
tled here nigh two years.”

“ Bill of Fare for Dinner at Camp Settledown, served
by Chef Jacque,” called Mr. Blake. “Ham and eggs,
potatoes in jackets, frying-pan bread, roast Grouse with
OUT-DOOR COOKERY 69

clay pastry. Dessert — roast apples on strings, ginger
cookies, and””—as Nez came from the cabin with a jar
— “wild plum jam, and coffee with condensed cream! ”

The first course was eaten with much relish, and then
they gathered around the fire to see Nez uncover his
famous pies. The first one being opened disclosed a
mass of blackened feathers.

“T knew it wouldn’t be any good,” whispered Dodo
to Nat.

“You know too soon then,” he replied, as Nez with
a skilful pull took feathers, skin, and all from the bird,
showing its smoking, nicely cooked body all ready to
be eaten.

“Oh!” said the children, as they cut it, or, J should
say more truthfully, pulled it apart.

“It’s terribly good with a little salt on it,” said
Dodo; “here’s a dear little wish-bone for you, Olive,
and both top legs.” And for the next half hour the
conversation was nearly extinguished by the food.

“Please, are you going to tell us a story now?”
asked Dodo of Nez, as he began collecting the tin
plates, cups, pots, and pans.

“Wash up yer kit first, then campfire and cae
You see, missy, in the woods it don’t do to let yer
vittles cool on the dishes; it’s too hard to clean ’em.
Got a kittle? Yes?” and he filled the largest tin with
water, which he set on the fire to heat for dish-washing.

“Any dish-rag?” and Nez carefully put the good
scraps in a pail to feed to Stubble when he should
return, wiped each article out with a handful of leaves
which he carefully burned as soon as soiled, — then the
dish-washing was an easy matter.
70 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“You see,” he explained, “if you are camping in any
one place for a spell, it gets dreadful mussy if you don’t
keep cleaned up, and then you may want yer duds in
ahurry. Always keep yer kit ready, whether it’s guns,
or harness, or kittles; that’s camp law.”.

So the children strayed about for an hour or so until
Nez and their father had finished their work and smoked
their after-dinner pipes.

“Now we'll have a campfire, though it’s the wrong
time o’ day,” continued Nez, piling some logs from his
shed against a couple of charred tree trunks that stood
side by side about four feet apart; he put sticks and
kindling in front of the logs, arranging the heap so that
the wind blew from the front to the back.

“Why don’t you put the sticks in a stack, like corn
stalks?” asked Nat. “That is the way we do when
Uncle Roy lets us make bonfires in the gravel-bank lot;
it burns up as quick as a flash, only it eats a great lot
of wood.”

“That’s the reason we don’t do it,” said Nez, “just
*cause it does burn up quick and eat the wood so fast
and then slumps out. This isn’t the real time o’ day
that in natur’ a woodsman or a plainsman would stop
to build a campfire, but it’ll do to show you by.”

-“ When do people generally build them?” asked
Rap.

“Along about dark,” said Nez, “after supper, when
the day’s work is done, if it’s a cattle round-up, or a
huntin’ or a lumber camp. In the north and northwest
country the air is dry and fine enough in the daytime,
but as soon as the sun goes down—down goes the
weather, too. If you go to sleep with no fire, or let
OUT-DOOR COOKERY val

your fire go out, youll get up with stumblin’ feet and
hands all thumbs in the morning. That’s why we pile
the logs this way, so that the fire gets a good hold and
creeps up slowly, and lasts long.

“Then you'll lie under yer bush shanty, or lean-to, or
canyas, or whatever kind of a shelter you have, or stretch
out on the ground in yer blanket, and yer so glad of rest
that yer wouldn’t change with any one in a castle.
Some one throws on the logs, and the camp settles down
for the night to smoke and talk and then sleep. Wolves
may bark in the distance, and Wildcats yowl and
sneeze ; as long as the fire blazes theyll keep away.”

“Please tell us about all the sorts of tents you’ve
slept in,” said Olive.

“And about the wild beasts that sneezed at you,”
added Nat, as they all watched the fire dreamily in the
comfortable silence brought by a day in the open air
and a good meal.

“My furst reglar campin’ was in a lumber camp in
Canada, the Saskatchewan country they call it. All
day long we were out in the woods cutting trees, trim-
ming them down and branding the logs to be hauled
over the snow in the winter to the river, so that the
spring freshets would wash them down. I don’t think
I ever struck a camp that had more game, big and little,
come about it. Maybe it was ’cause I was young then,
and everything seemed wonderful.

“The camp was clear out in the wilderness, in a sort
of holler between a marshy place all brushed over and
a woody hill; it was just half dugout, half log-cabin,
like my own yonder. In fact, I made this as like as I
could to the remembrance of that one. Only, like most
72 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

camps thereabouts, it had a pair uv Moose horns over
the door to bring good huntin’.

“Tt was the furst winter that I was there I learned
from the Indians and half-breeds how to read signs; to
know by the footprints jest what animal had been that
way, and by the way young twigs were nibbled and
torn whether it was a Moose, —if it was a bull with
antlers or the smaller cow without them. Then I
learnt the footmarks of all the fur beasts, and their
toothmarks on the bark, and when there were scratches
on the trees I knew how big a B’ar had sharpened his
claws there, and how tall he was.”

“Oh, unele, don’t you remember how you said the
Wise Men ...1de animals into classes by looking at their
feet and teeth, but I didn’t know people could tell them
only by their footprints.

“ Please, Nez, can you tell by smell where all the dif-
ferent animals are, as uncle says they can tell about
each other?” asked Nat.

“Not quite,” said Nez, laughing, “though there are
a few I can nose out besides Skunks. I did some tall
huntin’ and trappin’ then for a season or two, before
the game got too skary, and folks came that killed
just for getting the antlers of the bulls and leavin’ the
meat to rot,—folks that took a fawn or doe just the
same as a buck. Hunting Wolves, I call them, for
a Wolf is a wasteful beast in his killin’.”

“That’s what daddy calls such people, too. Tell us
the names of some of the beasus you saw,” coaxed Nat.

“Tt would be easier to name those I didn’t,” said Nez,
hesitating ; “but of a moonlight night after an early
snow, when all of the outfit but me was away, I’ve








WoLr.

THE LumMBper CAMP.

SKUNKS. CANADA LYNX. -


OUT-DOOR COOKERY 73

seen a Moose come from the windward side of the
cabin, while a. Fox sulked in the shade of some firs
watching the Skunks fighting over the scrap-pail, and
a Lynx crouched, grinning, on a log, taking it all in.
Meanwhile white northern Hares and Ermines nosed
about dreadful careless, not knowing when they might
make food for Owls, and Meadow Mice squealed among
the logs and left their little tracks like birds’ claws in
the snow. When they think there’s nobody round,
beasts have their playtime, just like folks.”

“Oh!” sighed Rap and Nat in chorus, “all those
beasts you saw are four-footed Americans ; if we could
only live in a camp and see them.”

“It was a nice place to see the animals, but pshaw,
some folks would find the camp smoky in winter and
full o’ black flies in summer. Don’t I remember the
time I shot my big Moose? Tl tell you that story
some day, and about another time out in Montana how
your dad was huntin’ for Sheep and met a Grizzly B’ar.
That is, if he don’t.”

“And did you ever see a great white Polar Bear,
or find Seals swimming on the ice?” asked Dodo.

“No, I never was so far north. There is a friend of
mine, a Finlander, who follows the sea, who has been as
fur north as most men go and get back again, and he
knows those beasts and their ways. He’s comin’ to
stop with me a spell this snowfall, and he’s been fishin’
and keepin’ a light down on the shore two summers.
I thought maybe you’d met him, his name is —”

“Olaf!” cried the children and Olive in chorus.

“Want to know!” said Nez, looking pleased, and
puffing vigorously at his pipe.
74 FOUR: FOOTED AMERICANS

“Oh, uncle! Oh, daddy!” cried Nat and Dodo,
rolling off the blankets in their excitement. ‘Nez
knows Olaf and he’s coming here! Don’t you see how
much we could learn about the fourfoots if we could
only live up here in a log house?”

“Doubtless you could, and you would perhaps enjoy
it vastly for a while, but how about school? You must
begin by being fitted for your lives as House People;
few of us can live the wild life, except now and then
for pleasure and as a rest from too much tameness.
Don’t look so blue, Nat. Dodo, cheer up, even if you
may not live in a log house you are not going to be
shut up in a prison this winter. Listen, and I will
tell you the whole of the surprise that you partly
learned yesterday.”

Four heads crowded together, and eight wide-open
eyes gazed at Dr. Roy, for Olive was as much in the
dark as the others.

“Must we guess?” asked Dodo, clapping her hands.

“You may all try, if you like, but I do not think you
can possibly guess the whole of the secret.”

“We are coming up here on Saturdays to learn to
shoot and hear Nez tell stories,” ventured Nat.

“No,” said Olive, “it can’t be that, because it would
be too far and too cold in winter. Perhaps you will
ask Nez to come down some time and tell us stories,”
said Olive.

“It takes too long to guess,” cried Dodo, wriggling
about in her impatience, “ please tell us now !”

“Very well; the surprise has three parts to it. Sit
still, Dodo, and remember that you are not to jump up
and down or hug me until I have quite finished.
OUT-DOOR. COOKERY 75

“You all remember the old summer kitchen at the
farm that is filled with boxes, tools, and rubbish, —
the long, low room back of the dairy, with the brick
floor and wide fireplace?”

“Oh, yes,” said Nat, “I’ve looked in there trying to
find Bats that P’ve seen go through a place where the
glass was broken, but it was stuffed so full of every-
thing that I couldn’t get in at the door.”

“ Now,” continued the Doctor, “this very day Rod
is clearing out all the rubbish, and I am going to let
you fit up that old room like a log-cabin camp. The
fireplace is large enough to hold a fine campfire. This
ispart first.

“Part second. —Every Saturday afternoon that it
is pleasant your father or I will teach you to shoot at
a target.

“Part third.— When it is dark you shall go into
‘camp’ and cook your own supper, after the same fash-
ion as you have seen the dinner cooked to-day, then
after supper we will have stories about the four-footed
Americans. Nez has promised to tell some of them,
and Olaf others. Rap can tell what he knows of the
nearby beasts, while your father and I will fill in the
chinks.”

“How did you ever think of anything so lovely?”
exclaimed Olive.

“T can hug you now,” said Dodo, immediately doing
it vigorously.

“ Hurrah! Moo-o0-0!” was Nat’s response, trying
to blow a joyful blast on the Moose horn, and failing
utterly, while Rap sat in silence, but with a beaming
face.
76 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Let’s go home and begin right away,” said Dodo.

“Tt is high time to go home,” said Mr. Blake, jump-
ing up. ‘“ Who would think it was nearly five o’clock?
The sun sets in a hurry these days, and we shall have
to ask the moon to escort us, I think. Cold ham and
cookies must do for supper.”

“Somebody is coming,” said Rap, pointing to the
path that wound around the steep, wooded crest, where
his quick ears detected a rustling in the dead leaves.
At the same time a ginger-colored setter dog came in
sight, followed by two sturdy little boys, who, on see-
ing strangers, dodged into the cabin lke frightened
Rabbits.

“That’s Toinette and the young uns,” said Nez.
Then added by way of apology, “The young uns don’t
see many folk and they are skary. Here, Toinette,”
speaking to a rather pretty, dark-haired, black-eyed
young woman, who came up carrying a basket on her
head, “make you acquainted with some old tent mates
0’ mine.”

The woman gravely held out her hand to each with
a pretty gesture of welcome that said more than words.

“She’s half French, you see,” explained Nez, “and
she isn’t much on talkin’ American.”

But the moment Mr. Blake spoke to her in the soft
slurring French of the Canadian woods, she answered
readily, and her face was wreathed with smiles.

“You must bring your wife and children down to
visit us, Nez,” said the Doctor; “it will do them good
to see other young folks.”

“T reckon it would. The boys go to school now,
over the mountain; book learnin’ is some good even to
OUT-DOOR COOKERY 77

woodsmen, I say, and by the time they’ve grown up
there won't be much of a livin’ left in the woods,
anyhow.”

“But it’s more than five miles over to the Ridge
school by the road.”

“Yes, but that’s nothin’ fine days, and when snow
comes I calkerlate ter put on snow-shoes and ride ’em,
one on each shoulder, across country; they don’t weigh
much compared to cainp kits and Deer I’ve carried.”

“Dodo, how would you like to go ten miles a day
through the woods to school?” asked her father, for
Dodo sometimes grumbled at walking the smooth mile
that lay between the farm and schoolhouse.

“At first, for about a week, it would be fun, and
then perfectly dreadful,” she answered promptly.

They left Nez’ camp reluctantly, and returned to
where they had left the wagon and horses, who greeted
them with neighs of pleasure. Tom had walked so
many times around the tree to which he was tethered
that he was wound up tight to the trunk, while Jerry
had nibbled his rope. loose and was having a fine time
rolling on the ground, though his thick coat, long mane,
and tail were knotted with burrs which would give Rod
a good hour’s work to comb out.

“ Never mind,” he neighed, as the Doctor said “Look
at what a ee Jerry is in,” —“Tve had my fun to-day
as well as you.’

The sun disappeared exactly at the moment that the
wagon turned into the lane again, and every one waved
good-by to Nez, who watched them out of sight.

“T know what all the extra blankets and things were
put in for,” said Dodo, as her father made her sit on a
78 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

blanket which he folded over her knees and drew about
her shoulders like a shawl, so that only her head peeped
out, while the others arranged theirs to match. “ It’s
like being ina bag. How nice and warm it feels,” she
said, nestling down. “I didn’t know just one blanket
could be so comfortable.”

“Just one skin robe or wool blanket is all that the
Indian hunter, or plainsman, has to stand between him
and the bitter cold night,” said the Doctor; “so that
many people who are living the out-door life continu-
ally, have their blankets sewed into this shape and
lined with fur, and they are called sleeping bags.”

“That is what: Dodo’s blanket will be long before we
get home,” said Olive, as Dodo nodded and swayed on
the seat.

“No, I’m going to stay awake so as to see every-
thing,” said she, suddenly stiffening up and opening
her eyes very wide.

“Look at the mist coming up out of the river and
lowlands,” said Rap ; “it’s just as if they had gone to
sleep and it was their breath.”

“We shall save three miles by following the river
lane,” said the Doctor to Mr. Blake, who was driving.

By this time the light that guided them came from
the great full hunter’s moon, and all that was left of
daylight was a few dull red shadows in the west.

“There are lots of little beasts out to-night,” said
Rap, his eyes being almost as keen in the darkness as a
cat’s. “Ob, Doctor, do you hear that barking down
the river bank? I’m as sure as anything that it’s a
dog that has treed a Coon, for the noise keeps coming
from the same place. Can’t we stop and see?”
OUT-DOOR COOKERY 79

Mr. Blake drew in the horses, and they all listened

for several minutes. ‘The barking turned to a yelp
and then a baying, and almost at the same time a good-
sized beast, bigger than the largest Angora cat, with
a full tail, sprang from the bushes into the road,
-stopped to listen, and then scenting the horses con-
tinued on its way through the bushes and disappeared
among the rocks, while the barking dog seemed to be
taking a zig-zag course in the opposite direction.

«“ We have seen the Coon without leaving the wagon,”
said Mr. Blake, whipping up again. “He evidently
sprang from the tree across one of the brooks that feed
the river, and the dog has lost the scent.”

“Jt is a very queer animal,” said Olive. ‘“ Father,
did you notice when it sat up to listen it looked like
a little Bear, in spite of its long tail?”

“That is not strange, considering that it is a cousin
of Bears,” said the Doctor.

“ Coons are real clever,” said Rap. “ The one I had
could do ever so many tricks, and used its paws as if
they were hands.”

“ What are Coons good for — to eat or wear?” asked
Dodo.

“Both,” said the Doctor. ‘Their fur is soft and
prettily brindled, and if they are young, the flesh is
not unlike Rabbit.”

“Mammy Bun says they used to have Coons down
where she lived, but their fur wasn’t good for much.”

“The fur of an animal living in the South is never
as good as the fur of the same species living in the
North.”

“Why is that ?” asked Nat.
80 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Because fur is given animals to protect them from
the cold; the summer coat of a fur beast is thin, as
you see the summer coat of a horse is short, com-
pared to the thick coat that grows out at the first cold
weather. (Look at Tom and Jerry and see how woolly
they are now.) As it is never very cold in the South,
the fur animals do not need such thick, soft coats as
they do here, while in Canada and northward, where the
winter is far longer and colder than with us, the fur
is heavier yet.”

“There is a word I’ve heard hunters use for the fur
of animals, the same as plumage means the feathers of
birds, only I’ve forgotten it,” said Rap.

“Pelage, is it not? It comes from peau (pelt),
which means furry skin; a skin used for the leather
instead of fur is called a hide.”

Two men stepped across the road, with what looked
like Rabbits and Grouse hanging over their shoulders,
but slunk into the shadow of some bushes when they
saw the wagon.

“Pot hunters, I know,” said Mr. Blake, “snaring
and trapping, as usual.”

“ How do you know they trapped the birds, daddy?”
said Nat.

“Because they had no guns and hid when they saw
us. If you watch wood life much, my boy, you will soon
learn to see the reason why for things, and it is very
often the reason that helps you to see the thing itself.”

“ Hoo-hoo-hoooo!” came a cry from over a very
dark bit of road through which they were going.

“Nat, there is one of your friends,—the Great
Horned Owl,” said the Doctor.
OUT-DOOR. COOKERY 81

“What is that—a Skunk?” asked Olive, as some-
thing black and white ran across the road. “It is
striped so that it hardly shows in the moonlight.”

“Yes; a Skunk, or rather what Tommy Anne calls
a ‘Scent Cat.’ There is a great deal of argument as
to whether its black and white coat protects it or not.”

“JT should say that it certainly did protect it on
moonlight nights, but not on very dark nights,” said
Mr. Blake.

“J shouldn’t think that would count; on dark nights
you couldn’t see it at all—only smell it,” said Dodo,
and then every one laughed at her matter-of-fact way
of looking at things.

Between talking and listening to the strange sounds
of night, it seemed but a short drive home. They
left Rap at his gate, and soon the lamp on the porch
at the farm was making their eyes blink, and when the
children were unwrapped from their blankets, Dodo
was really asleep in her bag.

“JT might as well be sleepy now as not,” she mur-
mured, as her father lifted her down, ‘because we
can’t begin to fix our camp until next Saturday, can
we?”

“Neigh, n-e-i-g-h!” snorted Tom and Jerry, know-
ing their supper was waiting for them at the barn,
but Dodo was so sleepy that she thought they were
answering her.

G
VII
CAMP SATURDAY

ERHAPS you expect that the chil-
dren immediately began to tease the
Doctor about their indoor camp ;
but more than a week passed, after
their visit to Nez, before they had
time even to think about their

uncle’s promise. The next Sat-
urday they went chestnutting, and
PE ey, so it was the first part of November
when a cold, cloudy day drove the
children indoors and made them knock on the door of
the wonder room in quest of their uncle, much as they
had done six months before, when they were disputing
as to whether or not a bird was an animal.

“We've been trying to get into the old kitchen,
but the door is locked, and there are great tight shut-
ters at all the windows,” said Dodo, before she had
fairly crossed the threshold.

“Which means, I suppose,” said the Doctor, “that
you are ready to make camp and wish me to help you.
I had been wondering how long it would be before
you asked me to keep my promise. Go and find
Olive, while I get the key.”

This old summer kitchen was joined on one side
82





CAMP SATURDAY : 83

to the main house by a covered passageway, and was
quite like a separate building. When the Doctor
unlocked the door, the hght was so dim that all the
children could see was the outline of an enormous
chimney, that seemed to be quite in the centre of the
room. In aimoment, however, Rod came in and threw
open the shutters. ;

“Why, father,” said Olive, “I never saw such a
chimney anywhere before. How did it come here?
Was it put up first and then the room built around it?”

Indeed, the chimney was almost as large as a small
room; the open fireplace on one side would allow half
a dozen people to sit around the fire, while on the oppo-
site part there was a little iron door.

“What is this?” asked Dodo, promptly opening it.

“That was the brick oven where the pies and bread
used to be baked in the olden time.”

“ But it has a stone floor and is so far from the fire I
should think it would have taken most forever for the
heat to have gone through ; and it’s very big.”

“The heat didn’t come from the fireplace,” said
Olive. =*People used to fill the oven with wood, a
great many hours before they wanted to bake, and then
when the stones were very hot they would sweep out
all the cinders and ashes and pop in the bread and
things. The oven was made large so that they might
save trouble by baking a quantity of food at once.”

“Why, then, in those old times living was something
like camping out, wasn’t it, Uncle Roy?” said Nat.

“Very much, but it made the people quick-witted,
hardy, and self-reliant, ready for any emergency that
might happen, just as the wild out-door life does.”
84 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Oh, look at the floor!” exclaimed Dodo; “it’s
made of bricks set in a wiggly pattern, with sand in
the cracks; and the beams show overhead, and there’s
no plaster on the walls.”

“JT think we could make a really wild-looking place
of this, if we only had some skins, and antlers, and
guns, and such things,” said Olive, walking about the
room quite as much excited as her little cousins.

Rod had taken all the rubbish away and made the
room clean, but the Doctor wished the young people to
have the pleasure of fitting it up themselves.

“Come up in the attic and out in the lumber room in
the barn, and I think we shall find what we need; mean-
while Rod will start a fire.”’

In half an hour or so the procession returned, every
one carrying something, while Mr. Blake and the
Doctor brought in an old-fashioned settle—a sort of
table with a top that tips back and a box underneath,
making a very comfortable seat. This they placed in
the middle of the room facing the fire, and then went
back for two long benches, such as were once used in
country schools.

“May we have one chair with a back for mother to
use when she comes?” asked Dodo, who had been
told that in a real camp there was little or no furni-
ture.

“Aren’t there to be any bunks?” pleaded Nat.
“Rap and I thought we should like to try sleeping out
here some time.”

“Not so fast,” said the Doctor. “Here, Olive, I will
drive some nails in the chimney cracks and you can
hang up the pots and pans and tin cups, for you will
CAMP SATURDAY 85

use the same kit that we took to the woods. Now for
the skins,’ and the Doctor began to unroll several
bundles that smelt of camphor, which had filled the
biggest cedar chest in the attic.

“ Beast skins!” said Nat, “all kinds, shaggy, and
bushy, and hairy. Oh, do tell us what they belong to,
uncle?”

“Not now; we will hang them up around our camp,
and you shall learn about each in turn, for though some
are but fragments, every one has a story.”

“Do those horns that papa is bringing belong with
the skins?” asked Dodo, as Mr. Blake brought in a
pair of smooth, curved horns, like those of some enor-
mous bull, and also a pair of branching antlers that
ended in little twig-like points.

“The smooth horns belong with this shaggy skin,”
said the Doctor. ‘Iwill fasten them up over the fire- |
place. Have you ever seen a beast with such a coat
and horns?”

“They might belong to a big wild cow,” said Nat.

“T know,” said Dodo. “Oh, Nat, why didn’t you
guess the Wild West Show and the Buffaloes?”

“Here are a lot of little skins, like Squirrels’ with-
out much tail, and one like a big, striped pussy cat.
Oh, how can we wait to hear about them all! TI shall
keep wondering and guessing. It’s worse than the
puzzles in St. Nicholas. What a glorious fire, too, —
as big as the one Nez made in the wood; and there is
a hook that swings out to hold the kettle, so when we
want to cook, we only have to fix two logs to hold the
pots the same as Nez did. But there are not enough
ashes to bury potatoes.”
86 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“We can save the ashes,” said Olive, “until we
have a great heap of them.”

“So we can, and these benches go into the chimney
on each side, so we can sit in there if it grows cold, or
if we need to watch the cooking.”

“Now some hooks and nails in that corner for your
mop, dish-rags, and dish-pan, and you are ready for
housekeeping,” said the Doctor.

“All except the broom,” said Olive. ‘Nez had
fresh hemlock twigs tied to a stick; but the hemlocks
are too’scarce here to be used in that way.”

“T will tell Rod to tie you a birch broom. That is
what Grandma Hunter always used on this sanded
brick floor. If there is anything else wanting, you
can look for it yourselves.”

- Long before they had finished admiring their camp
the dinner bell rang, and they hurried to tidy them-
selves, wondering how the morning had galloped away.
Nat, who could hardly finish his pudding before going
back to camp, came running in, his eyes ablaze with
_ questions.

“Daddy! daddy! Rod has taken your gun rack
from the back entry into camp, and there is a little
rifle in it that I’ve never seen before; and when
I asked him what it was for, he said, ‘For you and
Rap to hunt big game with.’ I told him that there
wast any big game near here, and he said: ‘Yes,
there’s a Deer down between the birches in the long
pasture. I saw it there just now.’ Won’t you please
come and see, quick, before it gets away; though I
don’t think it would be nice to shoot it, for it’s com-
pany, and there’s only one, and we can’t even pretend
CAMP SATURDAY 87

that we need it for food. Please hurry, or it may run
away.”

“J don’t think it will go, and I am quite willing
that you should shoot it,” said the Doctor.

Olive looked at her father in surprise, but his face
told nothing. Dodo suspected something, and vent-
ured, “I think it must be a tame Deer you have
brought to teach us with.”

“No, it can’t be,” said Nat. “Uncle would never
be so cruel as to shut up a tame Deer to be shot.”

“ Don’t you think we had better go and see, instead
of talking?” said Mr. Blake. “There goes Rod down »
the hill now. Who knows but what he will get the
first shot.”

“T see it!” cried Nat; “a real big Deer with curly
horns, I mean antlers, and a skin about the color of a
donkey’s. See, Olive, it stands between the birches
right against the side hill.”

“Oh, it’s moving,” wailed Dodo.

“Tt has gone. Rod has frightened it,” shouted Nat.

“Yes, it has disappeared, surely,” said the Doctor.
“Weaight go and see what Rod has to say for him-
self.”

“Tt is behind the trees, I can see its legs,” said
Olive, as they reached the pasture. “It’s backing in
between the trees again. Why, father, it’s a big
target shaped like a Deer!”

So it was. The animal was first sawed out of wood,
then fastened together with movable legs, after the
fashion of a jumping Jack. Then it was padded a —
little and covered with stout sail-cloth, which was
painted so that at a short distance it really looked

’
88 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

like the animal itself. The cleverest thing about it
was the way in which it hung by cords, from a pole
fastened between the trees, in such a way that it could
be pulled to and fro, so that the marksman could have
the excitement of shooting at a moving object.

“Who made it?” asked Dodo, after they had
recovered from their surprise. “It looks very like
one of the animals in my Noah’s Ark, only bigger.”

“T did,” said Mr. Blake; “and it is the common
American Deer, though I suspected your uncle would
ask if it was a Rhinoceros.”

“Oh, no, daddy; it isn’t as queer as that,” said
Nat, wondering why his uncle laughed so. “It will
be bully —no, I mean jolly —to shoot at; and when
we've plunked it all to pieces, perhaps you would
make us a Bear or a Wild Cat, so that we can tell
where to shoot each one. Please, could I have the
little gun and try now?”

“Yes; Rod will bring it. There, isn’t it a beauty ?
A Ballard repeater! See how the lock drops, and
you put in the cartridges so. Stop! that will never
do; you were pointing the barrel almost at Dodo.
The first thing you must remember about a gun is
never to point it at any one, even if you are sure it is
not loaded ; and the second thing is always to drop the
lock and make sure it is empty before you put it away.

“Now watch me put in the cartridges. So, now
close the lock and pull the trigger back half-way,
put the butt against your right shoulder, so, bring
that little pinhole sight, on your gun barrel, in a
straight line between your eye and the Deer back of
its shoulder. Now, hold fast and pull the trigger.”
CAMP SATURDAY 89

Bang! Dodo screamed and put her fingers in her
ears. Nat looked eagerly, fully expecting to have
blown the Deer to bits, but he had not touched it.

“You shut your eyes tight and fired almost straight
up into the sky,” laughed Olive, who was quite a clever
shot herself.

“JT don’t like a gun,” said Dodo. “Is there any
kind of anything that I could shoot at an animal
target, that wouldn’t make such a noise?”

“A good bow and some arrows are what you need,
missy,” said her father; “and T’ll make you a beauti-
ful, fat pig for a target. Come up to the barn and
Tl do it now.”

In a few minutes Mr. Blake had filled a feed bag
hard with cut hay, tied up one of the lower corners
to make a curly tail, made ears of corn husks, a face
of a huge beet, and legs of corn-cobs.

“Now, Dodo, T’ll put this in a nice place against
the stone fence, where it can’t fall over if it gets
tired of standing, and you may shoot to your heart’s
content. You can play that it is a Peccary, —the wild
American cousin of Sausage and all other farm pigs.”

“ Are there any about here?”

' “Oh, no; fortunately for us, they live now in small
herds down on the southeast plains of Texas and west-
ward along the Mexican border, for they are ugly,
savage, slab-sided little wild pigs, with a light collar
around the neck like a rope mark, sly, keen eyes, and
a pair of small tusks sharp enough to cut a man’s leg
in the thickest part, or rip the throat of any poor dog
who is forced to hunt them. Once they were plenti-
ful enough to be of value for their hides and bristles,
90 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

and hunting them is still considered good sport by
some people.

“The Peccary looks innocent enough as it walks
along on the points of its hoofs, or wallows in the
shady marshes of the river bottoms, its mouth gaping
in a foolish fashion; but if it sees you— watch out.
If your gun misses, you had better run, even if you
have to take to a cactus patch, for, appropriately
enough, prickles and Peccaries grow in the same places,
and they are both painful things to encounter.”

Dodo was delighted to think her target was a wild
cousin of Sausage’s, and flew into the house to tell her
mother and promise her the first shot at the Peccary,
as soon as she should have her bow and arrows. Then
she flew out again to coax her father to make her a good
tight bow, which he soon did out of a hickory sapling
and some of his pet fish-line. Nat, who meanwhile dis-
appeared, soon returned with Rap, and everything had
to be shown and explained once more.

Rap handled the rifle very carefully, as one having
had experience, and then took up the other small gun
which Nat had overlooked.

“How is it different from the other?” asked Nat.

“Tt has two barrels instead of one,” said Rap, ‘and
the cartridges hold a lot of shot instead of bullets. It
is for shooting little things.”

“Why is a lot of shot. better than a good bullet?”
asked Nat.

“Shot spreads out, and is more likely to hit a small
object than a bullet that only strikes in one place.
If we ever go up to see Nez and hunt Rabbits, this is
the gun we shall need,” said the Doctor.










THE COLLARED PECCARY.
CAMP SATURDAY 91

After they had. practised awhile, Rap had succeeded
in hitting the Deer twice, but it now began to rain in
earnest, and they returned to the camp.

“Hush!” said Dodo, as they were coming through
the corner door toward the fireplace. “See, we have
company ! Look at that Mouse-sitting by the edge of
the hearth; it’s as friendly as anything, and it isn’t a
common mouse-trap Mouse, either. Look what big







WHITE-FOOTED OR DEER MovusE.

eyes it has, and a lovely brown back, and its feet are
white, like clean stockings.”

The Mouse sat up and began to clean its paws and
wash its face daintily, while the children watched it and
Olive tiptoed out to call her father.

“It is a White-footed or Deer Mouse,” said. the Doc-
tor, “so called because it has a tawny back. Dodo is
right, it is not a ‘common mouse-trap Mouse,’ though
in some places it does often live in our houses. It also
92 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

makes its nests under tree roots and sometimes in old
birds’ nests. I will set a trap for it, and then we can
look at it closely.”

“Yes, uncle, but please not a choke trap; it’s too
pretty. We could look at it ever so much better if we
caught it in one of those little house-traps, with a wheel
for it to run around in—that they sell at the store. I
can shake enough money out of my bank to buy one,
because I haven’t shaken it for nearly two months.”

“No need of that; there are some old traps up garret
that Rod may clean for you, and a Squirrel cage too, I
think. Iam willing for you to have a few such winter
pets here in camp, if you care for them properly. It is
no harm to keep a Squirrel or a Coon as a well-fed
captive in the hungry winter season, if you let them
go again before they pine for freedom. Remember,
this camp is to be the place for your treasures, summer
and winter.

“There is plenty of room in those empty dresser
shelves for all the sticks and stones and empty nests
you find, that would only be in the way and make a
litter in the house.”

“Mousey has gone down between the bricks!” ex-
claimed Dodo. “Is the Deer Mouse a four-footed
American, Uncle Roy?”

“Yes, a true native, but the common, brown House
Mouse and Rat are the. children of foreign parents,
who sneaked over here like stowaways, in bales of mer-
chandise, and have now spread from the seaports, like
tramps, all over the land.

_ “By the way, young folks, what shall we call our
camp? It should certainly have a name. You shall
CAMP SATURDAY 93

have first choice, Olive, as Dodo named the wonder
room.”

“We might call it after some animal that lives around
here,” suggested Nat, as Olive hesitated.

“ Woodchuck or Fox or Skunk aren’t nice names,”
said Dodo, “though we might call it after the Squirrels.”

“What is the very wisest, cleverest fourfoot in our
America?” asked Nat.

“The Beaver,” said the Doctor; “he thinks, plans,
and works, and his house is quite worthy of the skill of
a two-handed engineer.”

“Then Beaver would be a good name for the camp,
only there are none hereabout.”

“Jt would be if it was a go-to-school, working, wood-
cutter’s camp,” said Mr. Blake; “but it is too solemn
a name for a jolly holiday affair like this.”

“TI have it,” said Olive, the idea coming to her as
Mr. Blake spoke; “call it Camp Saturday!”

A clapping of hands followed, that made the room
echo and the little Deer Mouse shiver in his hole.

“Let’s begin now! We've had our shooting — now
let us cook supper and tell stories!” cried Dodo,
eagerly.

“ Not to-day,” said the Doctor; “your mother has
still some preparations to make ; but instead of waiting
for the first snow, as I once said, we will have a big
game hunt a week from to-day at two o’clock, and at
six we will have our first supper in Camp Saturday.”
VIII
EXPLANATION NIGHT
The Brotherhood of Beasts

\ Wey N afternoon spent in what they called
\ hunting — shooting at the targets
in the long pasture —had given

them wonderful appetites for
supper, or probably Dodo would
have noticed that she had scorched
the cream toast a little, and that
there were lumps in the cocoa;

but Olive’s omelet, with its

seasoning of herbs, was as
delicious as an omelet can only be when eaten directly
from the fire.

Camp Saturday was fairly opened, the first supper
eaten, the dishes all washed and put away, and the
spider and kettles hung on their nails behind the chim-
ney. The boys did the dish-washing and fed the fire,
as division of labor is one of the first rules of camp
living.

“JT wonder how long it will be before I can hit the
Deer when it is moving?” said Nat, who was looking
into the fire and thinking of the afternoon’s sport.

“Not before spring,” said Dodo, positively ; “for you
94







EXPLANATION NIGHT 95

only hit it once, way back where it didn’t hurt it,
when it stood still,” speaking as if the target was a live
thing; “but I shot my Peccary pretty nearly in the
head.”

This remark made the others laugh, as Dodo had
only succeeded in missing the Peccary’s nose by an inch
or so.

“JT don’t see how you can shoot so well lying on the
ground, Rap,” she continued. “ I should think it would
squeeze you all up; but you hit the Deer twice.”

“TI suppose it’s because I’ve tried before, with a
bigger gun that kicked when it went off, so the little
one seemed very easy, and, even if you have two legs,
you can keep steadier lying down than standing up.”

“Who is going to tell the story to-night — you,
father, or Uncle Jack?” asked Olive, hanging up her
big apron and taking her place in the chimney nook ;
for though the campfire was roaring and glowing, the
far-away parts of the old room were too cold for sitting
still, and the young people wore long coats which Mrs.
Blake had made from rough red and blue blankets —
a cross between toboggan suits and blanket wrappers,
which served not only to keep them very warm, but
prevented the wood sparks from setting fire to their
lighter clothes.

“We shall not have any stories to-night,” said her
father; “this will be Explanation Night —the explana-
tion of the Mammal tree, where we shall find our four-
footed Americans. You must learn and remember
some things about this tree before we begin to climb
it, for when Nez and Olaf tell you stories, they may not
like to be interrupted by too many questions.
96 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Do you remember the two great divisions of the
animal kingdom or tree, as we call it?”

“ Yes,” shouted Rap and Nat, “ trunk and branches.
The first animal was the trunk that separated it from
the vegetable world. Animals without backbones were
the lower branches and animals with backbones the top
branches.”

“And what class of animals live on the highest
branch ?”

“M— mammals, that give m— milk,” said Dodo, so
quickly that the others had no time to answer.

“ Because this top Mammal branch is so large, I told
you that I would make a tree of it all by itself. Here
it is: now you can see how man and his blood brothers
are related.” So saying, the Doctor unrolled a long
sheet of paper and fastened it to a door, where the
firelight shone brightly on it.

“This tree has several more branches when it grows
in warmer countries. You can see where they belong:
two very low down by the trunk, and one up near the
top where the Monkeys live. This winter you must
be content to study the tree as it grows north of the
Gulf of Mexico and the Rio Grande, up to the land of
snow and the northern lights. Nat, go to the wonder
room and bring me the map of North America that
hangs there. We will hang it on one side of the
animal tree.

“You see that the Rio Grande is the river that
bounds the United States on the southwest, and the few
branches that are cut from owr tree belong to the tropi-
cal animals that only stray north of this river by mere
accident.


N. A. INDIAN

PRIMATES

Norts AMERICAN MAMMAL TREE, SHOWING THE CHIEF BRANCHES.

H 97
98 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Of course in climbing this tree we shall only find
the living Mammals, the extinct species belong to an-
other branch of study.”

“What are ’stinct animals?” asked Dodo.

“Gone out ones, I guess,” said Rap, “ because ’stin-
guishing a candle means putting it out.”

“ Make the word extinguish and you will be perfectly
right, my boy,” said the Doctor.

““T suppose the ones that are dead looked like the
live ones, didn’t they?” asked Dodo.

“ By extinct animals the Wise Men mean not merely
those that are dead, but those that lved so long ago
that even their exact pattern has disappeared from the
earth, better designs having replaced them.”

“Then how does anybody know about them?”
asked Rap. “ By reading in books, I suppose.”

“These animals had passed away before there were
any books, and before man, as we know him, was living
on the earth; so all we can know about them must be
learned from the skeletons that are found buried be-
neath the earth, and in the rocks and beds of old-time
clay and silt. The study of these bones is called
Paleontology.”

“How could their bones get into hard rock?” asked
Rap and Nat almost together.

“That question has a very long answer, and belongs
to the story of when the earth was young ; but it will
help you to remember this much : —

“The earth was once a fiery ball of gases like the sun.
The time came when it was needed by the Mind that
plans and sets everything in motion, and He began to
develop it by degrees as He does everything; for in
EXPLANATION NIGHT 99

His realm there is no trickery or magic, nothing with-
out a reason, nothing sudden or unforeseen. So this
growth of our planet from a fiery ball to the earth we
know took millions of what we call years, and, at first,
there was no plant life, but only a molten mass which,
when it cooled, turned to rock, making a crust.

“ After a long time, when the first animals were
needed, they were made to suit the earth as it was then;
but the surface of the earth was constantly changing —
heating and cooling as the top of a cake changes and
cracks in the baking. Land came where water had
been; forests where all was barren; then the animal
life was changed and changed again and adapted, always
growing of a higher kind, until the earth was ready as
a home for man himself, who is the King of Animals,
— living on the top branch of the same animal tree to
be sure, but separated and raised above his blood
brothers by wearing the image of God, which is the
soul.

“The different periods through which the earth and
its vegetable and animal life has passed can be seen
by digging down through the earth’s crust as you
would cut through a layer cake. Some day we will
study about this, but now we must return to Man,
the two-handed, two-legged King, and look at what he
sees from the top of his tree, as he looks down on his
subjects and blood brothers, most of whom have four
legs, though some, as you will see, have none at all.”

“ But; father,” asked Olive, “do you think there will
ever be any higher sort of animal than man?”

“There may be a more perfect race of men than
those we know; for of the living races some are more
100 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

elevated and spiritual than others, and everything in
the great Plan moves upward.”

“You have made a picture of an Indian on the top
branch of our Mammal tree, but eer aren’t so many of
them alive now as of us, are there ?”’ asked Nat.

“No, my boy, I put him there because, speaking cor-
rectly, he is a native American like the fourfoots ; but
a great change is coming over the tree. Some of its
lower branches are dying off, as well as the top branch,
and of these changes and their reasons I hope you will
learn from our campfire stories.”

The children looked at the map for some time, read-
ing the names on the branches, tracing with their fin-
gers the different twigs and the outlines of the animals
in which they ended.

Finally Nat asked, “Is there anything else in which
Mammals are alike except that they have warm red
blood and nurse their young ?”

“Tf you should look at the skeleton of a cat, a bear,
a horse, and a man, you would see that in the skeletons
of all these Mammals the plan is much the same, dif-
ferent parts being developed to suit the way in which
the members of each family move or get their food.

«The Gnawers have strong, square teeth, the diggers
powerful fore paws, the eenners strong, long hind legs,
the Swimmers webbed hind feet and tails like paddles,
and so on, and remember that all Mammals are more or
less covered with hair.”

“Covered with hair? I never thought of that. Is
fur, hair?” asked Rap.

“Fur, hair, and wool are really all the same things,
developed in different ways, though they look unlike.
EXPLANATION NIGHT 101

The hair of a horse is harsh, of a cat soft, of a Musk-
rat the longer hair is stiff and wiry and the under-coat
soft, and what we call furry. You know that the hair
on a baby’s head is soft and downy, and not sharp as it
grows to be later on.

“There are quite a number of other things that the
Mammals have in common with King Man. They have
intelligence, as well as instinct, and they can think and
reason also.”

“T don’t quite understand about instinct and all
that,” said Rap. “I know what thinking is, of course ;
but I thought that only House People could think and
talk.”

“Ah, there is where older heads than yours make a
mistake,” said the Doctor, stooping to pile up the fire
that was settling forward, adding a few pine cones to
make it blaze.

“Animals talk, though not in our words, and they
have also a language of signs and smells that we but
poorly understand, although the savage races and
people who live much outdoors have similar ways, and
can read many things by this sign language that would
puzzle very intelligent House People.

“Let me see if I can explain the difference between
intelligence and instinct. Eating comes by instinct;
a baby eats without thinking, as well as other young
animals. An animal may help itself to the kind of
food that its family is in the habit of eating, and that,
too, is an act of instinct.

“ Now listen, an animal sees a bit of meat hanging in
the air; it is bait tied by a string to a trap set to kill
him. He does not know this by instinct, for this per-
102 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

haps is the first time man and their traps have ever
been near one of his tribe. He takes the meat and is
caught, but succeeds in getting free again. Some ani-
mals are so clever that once having been caught, or
having seen a brother beast caught, they set to work to
think out a way of cutting the string and getting the
meat without being caught in the trap. This shows
reason and intelligence, does it not?”

“Why, of course it does. Please, what fourfoots
are clever enough for that except Foxes? They are
smarter than some people,” said Rap.

“You will learn of these clever ones branch by
branch and twig by twig. J am only trying to tell
you how to start up the tree to-night. One thing more
about intelligence,” said the Doctor. “ You all of you
have dreamed sometimes; can you tell of what dreams
are made?”

No one was in a hurry to answer, and Olive said :
“They are a jumble of something that has happened
and lots of things that never-have, but that seem quite
real.”’

“ Yes, that is a good answer; for dreams are a blend-
ing of memory —the remembrance of something that
has happened — and imagination, which is creating
something.”

“ Making it up, do you mean?” asked Dodo.

“Yes, making up—dinventing; so any one who
dreams must have more or less intelligence, and many
Mammals dream.”

“T know they do!” exclaimed Nat. “Mr. Wolf
dreams and growls away like everything, and the other
night Quick was sleeping by my bed and he gave a lot
EXPLANATION NIGHT 1038

of little sharp barks like those he gives at cats and
Woodchucks, and all the hair over his backbone ruffled
up; but when I looked at him his eyes were shut
tight.”

‘“ Mammals are of a good many sizes, and move about
in a great many different ways,—run and lope and
jump, — but they almost all have four legs, don’t
they?” asked Rap.

“They are of all sizes, from a Mouse of a few inches
to the great Whales that measure seventy or eighty
feet in length, but they are not by any means all pro-
vided with four legs. Mammals are often called
Quadrupeds, or four-footed animals, and the greater
number do have four feet; but one has two feet, while
others like the Whale have no feet.

“The majority of Mammals live on the surface of
the earth, and their limbs are formed for walking.
They never have more than two pairs of legs, and may
lack hind limbs; but you will never see them with hind
legs and no fore limbs.”

“ There are lots of useful Mammals, too, besides all
the little nuisance ones, aren’t there, Uncle Roy?”
asked Dodo.

“Yes, surely; Mammals are the most useful of
all animals. They supply us with meat, milk, hides,
wool, fur, horn, and ivory. The Whale gives oil,
whalebone, and spermaceti; the hoofed Mammals —
horses, oxen, etc.—are draught animals. I want you
to look at your tree and I will show you the ladder I
have made to go with it. You remember the way in
which the Bird Families all walked together in a pro-
cession, each wearing his Latin name, that the Wise
104 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Men gave him, in addition to his English one. This
ladder is arranged so that when you hear a story of an
animal, you can look at it and see in what family he
belongs, in what guild he works, and his place in the
tree. If we ever make our stories into a book we
will put this ladder at the end to help little people who
amight not be able to climb our tree without it.”

«Are those fourfoots all made into families and
guilds? How is it done, by watching their claws and
mouths, what they eat, and the way they work, the
same as with the birds?”

“ Partly,” said the Doctor, laughing, “only it is teeth
and feet with Mammals, instead of bills and claws.

“The Wise Men, by measuring, comparing, and
studying the bones of these Mammals, have divided
them into groups or classes, keeping those the most
like together. This is called classification, and is very
important. If they had not done this, you would never
guess, by looking at pictures or at stuffed animals in a
Museum, that a Whale is one of your blood brothers
and not a great fish; or that the Bat, that you see
flitting about at twilight, is not a bird.”

“T’m sure it takes a lot of believing to know that a
Whale isn’t a fish anyway,” said Nat. “Do Mammals
have tools to work with the same as birds have chisel
and hooked bills and all that?”

“Yes, every Mammal has either a tool or weapon,
and sometimes the same thing answers for both, as you
will see.”

“You need not trouble yourself with learning your
ladder by heart all at once; but when you have heard a
story about an animal, go to the ladder and it will help
EXPLANATION NIGHT 105

you to find on which branch of the tree and to what
euild it belongs.”

“Shall we make tables as we did about the birds?
I love to write them,” said Dodo.

“ Color, size, and all the guilds to which they belong?
I think not,” said the Doctor; “ for you will not be able
to see as many of these fourfoots for yourselves as you
did of the birds, and that is the reason why I have
made the ladder with a step in it for each animal,
plainly marked with its size and color.”

“Couldn’t we write down the names of the guilds,
then?” coaxed Dodo.

“Certainly ; if you like, you can end the evening by
writing a list of the guilds and groups to which our
four-footed, no-footed, and wing-handed Americans
belong.”

“How many Mammals shall we learn about— one
hundred, like the Birds?”

“Seventy-five ; I think that will cover all the most
interesting, and I have in my portfolio the pictures of
about that number to show you.

“We may divide our Mammals into eight chief
euilds, though the larger ones have several societies
or branches, and I will give you the name of an animal
belonging to each guild to help you remember.”

J. Pouch Wearers..... The females of this guild carry their
young in a pocket. (The Opossum

belongs here.)

Il. SeaCows ....... Clumsy water animals, who feed upon
water plants, helping themselves with
their flipper-like fore legs. Hind legs
wanting. (Manatee.)
106 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

TS ROMerSs ec seee terete eo Salt-water Mammals, whose fore limbs
ave hidden in skin mittens. They roll
through the water and are helpless on
land. (Whale.)

IV. Hoof Wearers..... Swift-anoving Mammals, with toes com-
pacted into small feet, called hoofs,
and having their horns in pairs.

(a) Rooters. With two upper tusks like a Pig. (Peccary.)

(b) Solid-horned Cud-chewers. Ward, branching, bony horns
like a Deer. (Moose.)

(¢) Hollow-horned Cud-chewers. Hollow, curved horns like a
Cow. (Buftalo.)

V. Gnawers ........ The largest guild among fourfoots.
Animals with four sharp, front-cut-
ting teeth. All eat vegetable food,
though some prefer animal. All the
nuisance animals are Gnawers.

(a) Shadow-tailed Gnawers. Waving upright, plumy_ tails.
(Gray Squirrel.)

(b) Burrowing Gnawers. Those who make their homes under
ground. (Woodchuek.)

(c) Swimming Gnawers. Those who spend part of their time
in the water and usually live near it. (Muskrat.)

(d) Long-eared, Short-tailed Gnawers. Waving Rabbit-like
ears. (Wood Hare.)

VI. Flesh Eaters ..... Mammals with four, long-pointed dog-
like teeth for tearing meat.

(a) Claw-handed Flesh Eaters. ‘Toes ending in movable claws
like the house cats. ( Wildcat.)

(b) Dog-nosed Flesh Eaters. With pointed muzzles and bark-
ing calls. (Fox.)

(c) The Greedy Growlers. Beasts who eat both meat, fruit,
and vegetables. (Bear.)

(d) Liltle Fur Bearers. Who all yield fur of more or less
value. (Mink.)

(e) Water People. Great Mammals with flipper-like limbs,
living chiefly in the water. (Seal.)

VII. Bug Biters...... Burrowers, who kill harmful insects.
( Moles.)


EXPLANATION NIGHT 107

VII. Winged Hunters . . Mammals who have membranes between
the fingers of their hands or fore limbs
that form wings. (Bats.)

“These guilds will perhaps be harder for you to
remember in the beginning than the Bird Guilds, for
there are more of them, and they have longer names;
but if you look at the tree and pictures, and try to
remember one animal that belongs to each guild, all the
rest will follow.”

“Unele,” said Nat, “do our Mammals make long
spring and fall journeys as the birds do, and can we
divide them into citizens, and summer citizens, and
visitors ?”

“Oh, yes! and do they pay taxes and work for their
living like Citizen Bird?” asked Dodo.

“Nat, your question is easier to answer than Dodo’s.
Mammals do not travel as birds do, and few, if any,
have a regular time for moving except to shift their
feeding grounds for various reasons. Of course, if
parts of the country are settled by House People, and
woods are cut down and wild pasture ploughed up, or
waterways drained, the animals who have lived there
will move on to new homes; but this is not a regular
migration.

“Then, again, grass-eating animals, who spend the
summer in the mountains, come down into sheltered
valleys for the winter, and so on; but in spite of this we
cannot call our Mammals travellers. It is difficult to
say which of them are useful citizens, some undoubt-
edly are, and pay taxes by killing nuisance animals, and
yielding fur or food, but in a very different way from
Citizen Bird, who works with us to raise the crops.
108 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“They were undoubtedly, in the true sense, all once
useful citizens of the Republic of Nature, when every
spoke was in place in the great balance-wheel, and
man had only the things that were created for his
use, had not invented anything for himself, and was
called uncivilized ; but all that was long ago. This
is changed now, and you will find, when you hear
the stories, that guns have driven away animals that
arrows could not kill, and some beasts, missing their
natural food, have taken to eating things that were not
intended for them, and have become beasts of prey and
nuisance animals.

“One thing I want you to remember. The skins of
these Mammals were the very first prizes that America
offered to the white people when they came here — the
first wealth of the land. The trappers were of an
earlier tribe than the miners. The pelts of the fur
beasts brought money while the treasures of gold,
silver, copper, and coal were still hidden deep under
ground. But man, by killing these Mammals waste-
fully and even during their breeding seasons, has made
them now exceedingly rare. One by one they are
growing fewer and shyer, and the animals that came
over seas, as we did, in the long ago, are filling their
places as far as they are able. The long-horned cattle
feed on the prairies in place of the Bison, just as our
houses stand on the ground once occupied by the red-
man’s wigwam.”

“But it is better to have House People and cows
in America than savages and Bison, isn’t it?” asked
Olive, who saw that the children looked puzzled.

“Yes, it means progress, and one of Heart of Nat-
EXPLANATION NIGHT 109

ure’s laws is that nothing shall stand still. When a
tree can no longer grow, it must decay and turn into
earth, that some other tree may grow in its place; but
we should never have killed the wild men and beasts
as we did, merely to show our superior strength and for
the greed of killing. It is only about four hundred
years since white men set foot on this soil, and yet it
seems as if in a hundred more there may be no more
real two or four-footed Americans left.”

“There is the Deer Mouse again,” whispered Dodo,
who was growing tired, pointing to the hearth corner.
The Mouse gathered up some crumbs and licked up a
few drops of water that had fallen on the stones, then
whisked away again.

“ He likes supper before he goes to bed. Please can
we roast some chestnuts, Uncle Roy ?”

Eyery one laughed; no more reasons why were asked,
and Explanation Night ended merrily to the sound of
chestnuts snapping vigorously in a wire corn-popper
that the children took turns in shaking over the hot
coals.

43
IX

AN INVITATION

ne camp hail ek away, ihe
children had another treat in the
shape of a pair of holidays, —

Thanksgiving and the day after.

For as the day of Saint Turkey

always comes on Thursday,

teachers and children agree that

it is not worth while to lLght

school fires on Friday, only to
put them out again the next day.

“We can begin the stories and have the campfire
every night and shoot every afternoon. It’s begun to
snow already, and perhaps Nez will come down and
show us how to make snow-shoes,” chattered Dodo,
happily, on Monday, as she looked out of the window
in the wonder room, into the sky at dusk, and saw the
mysterious flakes of the first snow-storm fluttering
down.

“Yes, it will be jolly!” said Nat, looking up from
the book he was studying; “but I want to do some
real shooting, too. Rod says there’s lots of Rabbit
signs over along the edge of the wood lot, where he
was hauling logs yesterday, and he found three forms
110


AN INVITATION 111i

beside. Then there are fresh scratches on the big
chestnut tree up by the hole where the branch broke,
and on the earth by the little rock caves, and Rod says
that means Coons. Do you think that Quick would
make a good Coon dog, daddy? He has an everlasting
bark, and that’s what Rod says you need in a Coon
dog.”

Nat came and stood with his back to the fire, spread-
ing his hands between imaginary coat tails, speaking
so earnestly and wearing such a sportsman-like air,
that his father and uncle laughed outright.

“What kind of forms did Rod find in the pasture,
and what have they to do with Rabbits?” asked Dodo,
looking puzzled. “I thought forms were the other
names for the moulds Mammy Bun puts the jelly and
blanc-mange in to harden, so when it’s stiff and turns
out it is in a pretty shape instead of looking mussy
and wobbling all over the dish.”

“You are right there,” said her father; “but a Rab-
bit’s form is quite different. It is its favorite bed, —
the hollow made by it when it les down in the grass,
or.among leaves and litter, —which after being used a
few times takes the form of the Rabbit’s body.”

“Oh, I understand that,” said Dodo, eagerly; “it’sa
Rabbit mould, only instead of the mould making the
Rabbit the way it does with jelly, the jelly—no, I
mean the Rabbit—makes the mould. But please, uncle,
don’t let the boys shoot the little nearby animals on
the farm, because J want to make friends with them,
and’ Rabbits are as funny and cunning as kittens, so ’m
sure they can’t do any harm.”

When the laughter had subsided, Dr. Roy took a
112 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

letter from a strange, dirty envelope he had been hold-
ing in his hand, and spread it on the desk before him.

“Here is something that will interest you, Nat, and
provide you with real shooting without disturbing
Dodo’s ‘home Rabbits.’ In fact, that sheet of paper
contains the most tempting invitation ve had for a
year. Come here and read it to us, Olive.”

Olive looked puzzled at first, as, sitting on the arm
of her father’s chair, she read : —

FRIEND DR. HUNTER: toinette thinks to have a party for three
days to begin on thrsday olaf and part of his outfit is coming over
she would think it prowd if you would come to it also friend
Jack blake and his boy and the other boy with the one leg which
will find coons first rait also fox trails and rabbits which are to
many as well as skunks she will make the best cookin of the french
which she is half you know you need not answer only come

Nez-$54

“ What does that mean?” asked Olive, after she had
spelled out this remarkable letter, which had neither
commas, periods, nor capitals, pointing to three marks
like little zig-zags of lightning after his name.

“Why, that’s Nez’ blaze!” said Mr. Blake, looking
at the letter attentively. ‘Don’t you remember, Roy,
the mark he put upon his logs so that he would know
them among those of other choppers, and the sign he
cut on trees when we hewed a path so that we should
know the trail for our own? I suppose Nez has never
written such a long letter as this before, and he adds
his blaze marks to assure us that he wrote it himself
and means all he says.”

“T call that a fine letter,” said Nat, beaming with
satisfaction. ‘Three days in the woods, hooray! It
AN INVITATION 113

isn’t late, may I run down and tell Rap? I suppose,
of course, we will go,” he added anxiously.

“There is nothing about girls: in the letter,” said
Dodo, “and it will be a dreadfully unthankful Thanks-
giving Day with only mother and Olive and me at
home, and Mammy Bun may say it is wasteful to kill
Mr. Gobble only for ws, and he is so fat I don’t think
he will live till Christmas. You will all be so tired
when you get home Saturday, and proud with going
hunting, that you won’t care to cook supper and tell
stories in our camp.”

Here Dodo’s voice broke into a wail, and in spite of
brave blinking, a large round tear perched itself on her
nose in a position where it commanded attention.

“Oh, Dodo,” said her uncle, taking her on his knee,
“it is a very poor sportsman that cries not only before
he is hurt, but before the gun that might possibly hurt
him is even loaded. Cheer up, did you ever know any
one at the farm to make a good time for themselves by
hurting somebody else?”

“No-oo, but I shouldn’t want to be piggy and keep
yow all at home, either,’ murmured Dodo, with her
face hidden under her uncle’s coat-collar. ,

“There is a useful word in our language that isa
very good plaster to cure the ills of reasonable people
who wish to do different things, it is compromise. Do
you know what that means?”

“No-oo,” quavered Dodo.

“Hach agree and do a part of what they want,” said
Olive.

“Oh, I know now,” said Nat; “it’s what Rod calls
‘split-the-difference.’ ”

I
114 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Tixactly, and we will ‘split the difference’ by staying
at home with the ladies on Thursday and having Mr.
‘Gobble for dinner and our story in the evening. Then
Friday we will start for Nez’ camp, going by rail to
Chestnut Ridge Station, and driving over from there,
so as to lose as little time as possible on the way.”

Dodo’s face came from under the coat-collar, and her
arms tightened around Dr. Roy’s neck so suddenly that
he coughed.

“ Wait a minute, that is not all. I think we must
have a party ourselves before long and invite all the
camp people to come down here. What do you say to
a Christmas party, sister Cherry, with a tree and songs
and Santa Claus? Will it be too much trouble? No?
Then talk it over with Olive and Dodo while we are
away, and decide what you want to do and how to do
it, and you may put your hand in my pocket for a real
Christmas at Camp Saturday.”

“My pockets have something in them, too,” said Mr.
Blake.

“Our bank is choking,” chimed in Nat and Dodo.
x
MONARCHS IN EXILE

EFORE dusk, on Thanksgiving Day,
dinner was over, and the family
had all gathered in Camp Satur-
day. Mr. Gobble, with his chest-
nut stuffing, proved so tempt-
ing that two small people even
begged for a third piece, and
every one agreed to have only
a light supper before bedtime,
and tell stories first.

“Ts Turkey a real American, or did he come over
with House People?” asked Dodo. “TI suppose he did,
because he’s a farm bird and very cranky to raise, Rod
says.”

“Turkey is not only a true American, and the
emblem of Thanksgiving Day, but our native wild
Turkey is the great-grandfather of all the other Tur-
keys that live everywhere on farms.”

The camp was quite in order now, for Dr. Roy had
sent to various places for chests of odds and ends that
had been stored away and almost forgotten. The.
board floor was nearly covered by the furry pelts of
various beasts, while others were fastened against the
walls, where some fine Deer’s heads spread their
115



116 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

pronged and forked antlers, and seemed to wink their
glass eyes as the fire flickered, casting startling
shadows.

“ Let’s make mother a throne by the fire,” said Nat,
drawing out the settle.

“This old woolly cow skin will mostly cover it,”
said Dodo, tugging at a bundle that lay partly un-
folded in the corner.

“Gently, gently,” called the Doctor, coming to her
aid. “That ‘old cow skin’ is something that belongs
to the past which I could hardly replace. It once
belonged to a Buffalo —that one whose head is over
the window. Nat, take the other corner and we will
spread the skin carefully.”

“Tt’s a pretty big skin—bigger than any of the
beasts we saw at the circus; but I didn’t know that
Buffaloes were rare,” said Nat. “I thought the wild
West was full of them, and all the Indians did when
they wanted meat or a coat was to go out and kill
one.”

“So they did once, my boy, and not so very long
ago.”

“There is a picture of some in your animal port-
folio,” said Dodo, “and in it there are lots and lots of
Buffaloes all over everywhere, more than all the cows
in the pasture down at the milk farm.”

“What shall you tell us about to-night, father?”
asked Olive, coming in, followed by the dogs. “ How
will you manage about the stories ; take the animals by
families as you did the birds? ”

“No, I have another plan. In this portfolio are
portraits of our most famous American Mammals,
MONARCHS IN EXILE 117

from ‘big game,’ as it is called, down to the smallest
nuisance animal. You shall all take turns in choos-
ing the picture you like, and then I will tell you its
story, or, if I do not know it myself, you shall hear Nez,
Unele Jack, or Olaf for a change. Then when each
story is finished, you must find the animal on the ladder,
and see to what family and guild he belongs. Is ita
bargain. ?

“ Dodo may choose to-night, as she is the youngest.
I will turn the pictures, for the portfolio is heavy.”

“Did you draw all these pictures?” Dodo asked, as
she took her place by her uncle, hardly knowing what
to choose from among so many.

«No, indeed, the man who drew these knew the beast
brotherhood as well as we know each other. In fact,
they are so true that I think Heart of Nature must have
stood beside him and touched his brush and pencil.”

“There is a Gray Squirrel in here,” chattered Dodo,
“that looks so funny and real, just like the one in our
hickory, that I knew it right away. All these animals
seem to be doing something, too, not sitting round
looking uncomfortable, waiting to have their pictures
taken like some beasts in my reader. I can’t choose,
uncle; I like them all. Here are three cats’ heads
with no bodies ; they must have as nice a story as the
Cheshire Cat. I think Vl] shut my eyes and take the
first I touch,” she said finally, and her choice fell on
the Buffalo, or Bison as the Wise Men call it.

“You could not have chosen better, for from this
story you will learn why I value that ‘old cow skin’
so much. I think, if we name our stories, they will
seem more interesting. Let us call this one ‘ Monarchs
118 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

in Exile,” said the Doctor, as he fastened the picture
with thumb pins beside the map on the wall, “and I
will tell you why the Buffalo was a king, where his
kingdom was, and how he comes now to be exiled.”

“My!” said Dodo, studying the picture, “he looks
like a great, wild, hump-backed bull gone to fur.
Doesn’t the Buffalo belong to the cow family ?”

Nat laughed, but the Doctor said: “Both the im-
ported race of cows and this wild American belong to
the Bovide, which we may call the meat family for
short, because all the members of it are good for food.
The members of this meat family have their toes
arranged in cloven hoofs, and wear pairs of hollow
horns which, when once grown, last for life. They all
chew the cud and are therefore vegetable eaters. You
can easily remember that all of the meat family belong
to the guild of Hoofed, Hollow-horned Cud-chewers.”

“ Are not the horns of all animals hollow, and don’t
they last for life, unless something breaks them?”
asked Rap.

“No, the meat family have hollow, curving, rather
smooth horns, that begin to sprout when the animal is
a few months old, and continue growing until the
wearer is fully grown. In the Deer family of ecud-
chewers these horns, or antlers as they are then called,
are of solid bone, pronged, tined, or spreading. They
are shed and grown anew every year, and the reason for
this is very interesting —horns, prongs, and antlers
being a whole story by itself. Now let me return to
our Buffalo. First look at the head and hide, then at
the complete animal in the picture. Can you imagine
a more powerful or fierce beast ?”


Bic A AO OT rs sly

fig: a






MONARCHS IN EXILE 119

“No,” said Nat and Dodo, promptly; but Rap hesi-
tated a little and answered shyly : —

“Tle must be very big and strong, yet somehow he
looks rather stupid, too, as if he wasn’t thinking about
much of anything. But then,” he added, as if fearing
to be unjust, “perhaps it is the glass eyes that make
the head look so sleepy.”

“You are perfectly right, Rap; stupidity was the
chief fault, or rather misfortune, of the Buffalo. The
foremost Buffalo in the picture is an old male; these
males were often six feet high at the shoulder, and
measured ten feet from the tip of the nose to the root
of the tail, eight feet around the body just behind the
fore legs, and weighed from fifteen to seventeen hundred
pounds. Those we saw at the circus were born in
captivity, and were much smaller. The ponderous
head is shaggy, with a tufted crown between the curved
horns that match the hoofs in blackness. “The nose
and lips are bare, but the chin is bearded. The shoul-
ders and fore legs down to the knees are covered, as
you see, with thick woolly hair, while the hair on the
back parts of the body is shorter and more wavy.
The hair varies in color and length on the different

“parts of the animal, ranging from yellowish brown to
nearly black, and being from four to ten inches in
length. Under the long hair and wool isa thick under-
fur, which grows on the approach of cold weather and
is shed, or moulted, again before summer.”

“Oh, what a mess the poor thing must get into when
he moults,” said Dodo, stroking the Buffalo robe.
“He has nobody to comb him, and I should think he
would all stick together and tangle. How does he
120 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

manage, uncle? Does he scrape through the bushes
the way a snake does to pull off its old skin?”

“You have judged rightly; the Buffalo has a hard
time with his coat, and only looks really respectable
a very small part of the year. During four months he
is well dressed, for the other eight he appears in
various. stages of rags and tatters. In October he is
quite a gentleman, wearing a new suit of beautifully
shaded brown and buff which he manages to keep fresh
and bright until after Christmas. Soon after this the
effect of wear and tear, storm and snow, appear in a
general fading. You can easily see, however, that the
Buffalo with his winter coat, added to a thick hide,
could defy the weather even of the most open, wind-
swept country, and must be one of the hardiest of our
fourfoots.

“ All this tells you how the animal looked. Next
you must know why he was king of American four-
foots: it was because of his usefulness to the two-
footed Americans—the Indians who lived with him
in wood, plain, and prairie, but chiefly in the open
plains. In the long ago every part of the Buffalo was
of service to the wild people who had never seen
a white face, a horse, or a gun. In fact, it is strange
that this shaggy brown monster of the plain was not
worshipped by the savages as a god; for during the
last three hundred years of their liberty it was the
Buffalo chiefly that made it possible for them to live.
As long as the Indian had the Buffalo to supply his
needs, he was independent and unconquerable.

“In the far back time, of which there is no written
history, man had no other instruments of killing than
MONARCHS IN EXILE 121

did the beast brotherhood, not even the stone axe,
or bow and arrow, being closely akin to the wild
beasts themselves, who were armed only with teeth,
claws, and cunning. Man must have lived origi-
nally on fruits or animals weaker and less sure-footed
than himself. In this struggle for a living the mind
in man began to develop, and he shaped a club or a
stone axe, made traps and then caught animals that
gave him material for better weapons. What animal
could give him more than the Buffalo ?

“The hairy skin made warm robes and other gar-
ments, the hairless hides furnished tent coverings, bags
for carrying food, and, later, when horses came, saddles,
also boats, shields, rawhide ropes, etc. The sinews
made the thread to sew the robes, the lattice for
snow-shoes and strings for bows; from the bones
were fashioned many articles of use and ornament; the
hoofs and horns gave drinking cups and spoons, as well
as the glue with which the Indian fastened his stone
arrow-heads to their wooden shafts. Liven the drop-
pings of the Buffalo, when dried, were precious for fuel.
These parts of the Buffalo would alone have made him
valuable; but we have not mentioned the meat, the
rich, nourishing, wild beef of North America. Think
of the hundreds of pounds of food one beast would
yield !”

“Wasn't it rather tough meat?” asked Nat. “ That
old fellow there on the wall looks as if he would have
needed as much chewing as the gum Rod gave me from
the old cherry tree.”

“The meat of an old Buffalo bull certainly was
tough, as the meat of any other old animal is likely to
122 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

be ; but the beef of the three-year-old, or the cows, is
as delicious as our best roast beef.

“Only a part of the meat was eaten fresh, the rest
was dried in various ways and kept for further use ; for
the whole thought of the savage was given to self-pres-
ervation from two ghosts that crossed his path at every
step, —his human enemies and starvation. Often the
last was the more cruel of the two. So the Buffalo
tongues were smoked and dried, the marrow from the

‘bones packed away in skins, while all the titbits were
pounded fine, mixed with melted fat, and sometimes
berries also, to make a sort of hash more nearly like
sausage-meat than anything else, which was called pem-
mican. When we think of the Buffalo, we must think
of the Indian also, and if the Indian did much at last
to send this beast brother into exile, he also has shared
it with him.”

“Have Indians and Buffaloes always lived in North
America,” asked Olive, “and if they did not, where did
they come from?”

“ Always is a long time, for when the earth was very
young there were no people anywhere. I suppose you
mean were the Indians the first people known to live
here. Yes, and they may have been the very first peo-
ple to live on this soil—a race by themselves. At any
rate one of the first European discoverers to set foot on
the North American continent found the Indian here
and also the Buffalo. Strangely enough the first Buf-
falo described did not appear as a king of the plains,
but a captive ina Menagerie.

“Tt was nearly four hundred years ago, when Monte-
zuma II was Emperor of Aztec Mexico, that a Men-
MONARCHS IN EXILE 123

agerie stood in the square of the Capitol. Among the
other beasts in it was one called by an early writer a
‘Mexican Bull, resembling many animals combined in
one, having a humped back like a Camel, a Lion’s mane,
horns like a Bull, a long tail, and cloven hoofs,’ — this
beast was the American Buffalo.

“ How he came to be there no one knows, for they
were not afterward found to range so far south, but he
was probably captured by some of the Mexicans on
their northward expeditions.

“Between this first Buffalo of the Mexican Men-
agerie and the last (which one of you young people
may live to see) stretches the history of this tribe that
exceeded in numbers any other of the greater beasts of
the earth. It reads like some wild legend or impossi-
ble fairy tale, yet it is all true and took place in the
western half of our own country, and when the west
wind blows fiercely around the farm, it has often swept
over the very plains that were the Buffalo’s kingdom.
Whole books have been written, and yet have not told
half the tale, which is in a way the history of the kill-
ing of all the great American fourfoots as well.

“The Buffalo’s history is in three acts and many
scenes. First, the golden days of peace and plenty,
the rightful killing for food, with laborious hunting, a
fair fight between man and beast. ‘Take what ye need
to eat,’ said Heart of Nature to man and beast alike.

“Then the white and red men joined in the pursuit ;
fleet horses were used in the chase instead of men’s feet,
bullets killing from afar replaced the arrows shot at close
range. Not merely meat to eat or hides for covering,
or reasonable trade, but waste and butchery. Skins
124 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

traded for whiskey, — the skins too of cows and their
young.

“Last of all came the railroads, bringing the white
hunter with his deadly aim into the last retreat of the
herds. These three acts will show you the living, the
hunting, and the butchering of the Buffalo.

“At first the Buffaloes ranged over all parts of North
America where they could find suitable pasture. See,
I have made lines on the map to show you how it was
found in two-thirds of what are now the United States,
living in western prairies, forest-park land, the plains,
and far up on mountain sides, being found in the North-
west up to the land of snow. Buffaloes,.as you know,
are cud-chewers and, of course, grass-eaters, though
when pushed to it they will eat sage brush, and for this
reason they were obliged to move about during the
year more than any other fourfoots, except one kind
of deer; those in the south going north as summer
dried the grass, and the northerly herds leaving their
summer pasture before heavy snow falls. Buffaloes
usually moved several hundred miles south as winter
came on, and in these annual migrations great numbers
lost their lives; for often the vast herds would make
this journey on the full run, —stampeding, it is called.
Pushing blindly along, masses of them fell into quick-
sand and over cliffs, or broke through river and lake
ice.”

“What made them stampede? Was not that very
stupid of them?” said Nat.

“Yes, but like most animals who live in flocks or
herds, and people who live in thick communities, they
were both curious and stupid — what one did they all
MONARCHS IN EXILE 125

did. You know if Nanny Baa starts to run all the
other sheep follow her, —where, it does not matter
to them.”

“Yes, and I’ve noticed that they all try to get
through the same hole in the wall, or pack tight into
some little corner.”

“The grass was best in the valleys along the water-
courses, and you would expect the Buffaloes to stay in
such places; but they were stupid even in their search
for food, and wandered out on the dry plains where the
grass that bore their name was turned to standing hay
by drought and heat.

“The Buffalo had no private life; his time was
spent in a crowd from the time in spring, when as an
awkward calf he found it difficult to keep up with the
herd in its march, until his life was ended either by
rushing with the stampeding herd into an engulting bog,
or, if straggling from the herd, wounded or feeble he
fell a victim to the grim gray Wolves who were as the
Buffaloes’ shadows, following them ceaselessly.

“The fact that the Buffaloes grazed far and wide

made their daily march to the watercourses a ceremony
of great importance, and their kingdom was furrowed
deeply by these trails worn by innumerable feet as
they all followed their leader to the chosen watering-
place.”

“How did they choose their leader?” asked Dodo.

“Why, the strongest bull, of course,” said Nat.

- “No, on the contrary, the leader whom they trusted
was often some wise old cow. When she gave the
signal, the feeding stopped, off they all marched, per-
haps miles across country until water was reached,
126 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

always, in spite of their stupidity, choosing the safest
and most direct route to the desired spot.”

“How did people find that out, by watching them?”
asked Rap.

“Partly, but their paths or trails were cut so deep,
sometimes two feet, in the clayey ground, that they
remain to this day. You see in the picture the Buf-
faloes are coming down a trail, and with them is
another king of the plains, — the sand-colored sluggish
prairie Rattlesnake. Big as the Buffalo is, he does
not care to pull the leaves from a tuft of curly grass if
he sees one of these snakes near it. Nature evidently
whispers to the Buffalo very early in life: ‘The little
horny knobs on your head will surely grow, a lap for
each year: at three you will carry sharp spikes; at ten
polished black curved horns ; at twenty, if you live so
long, gnarled, furrowed stubs, — yet do not be proud,
remember that gray Rattlesnake coiled in the dust
carries in his mouth two fangs as deadly as your fiercest
charge. Be friends; do not dispute, but share your
kingdom with him.’ So they lived together, but the
snake has outlasted his brother king.”

“T shouldn’t think then that plains would be nice
places to stay,” said Dodo.

“They are not,” said Olive, decidedly.

“You are thinking of my story about the time I was
belated, twenty years ago, and had to camp on the
ground instead of coming on to your mother at the
ranch,” said the Doctor, laughing.

“Did snakes chase you?” asked Nat.

‘“No, but the spot where we were obliged to make
camp was full of their holes, and our horses knew it
MONARCHS IN EXILE 127

and were uneasy; yet they were utterly spent, so we had
no choice but to rest and picket them. We stopped up
the snake holes with hot ashes from our fire, which by
the way was made of Buffalo chips or droppings, spread
a hair rope or lariat in a circle inside, while we put our-
selves on rather than in our blankets.”

“ Why did you make a circle with the rope?” asked
Rap.

“ Because one of our party, a scout, said a Rattle-
snake would never cross a hair rope, so we put it there
to please the man.”

“ Did they cross it?” asked all the children together.

“No, we started in the morning on our search for
water before a single evil-eyed snake had wiggled out,
but I thanked the ashes, not the magic rope.”

“Tsn’t the water rather warm and stale in these
water holes? Jt usually is in such places here,” said
Rap, looking at the picture again.

“Of course it is! Dearie me!!” exclaimed the
Doctor. “ You youngsters would not even know it for
water. Wetness is the only thing it has in common
with the poorest puddle on the farm. Much of the
water of prairie and Bad Lands is a cross between
‘green whitewash and pea soup. Sometimes the lime, of
which it is full, shows white and crusty round the pool
edges as early ice does here. But to return to our
Buffalo procession.

“Vf it was a warm day they would often take a roll
in the pools after drinking, and you can imagine what
a spectacle a woolly Buffalo would be after such a bath
in a mud puddle.”

“ How could they like to be so dirty?” said Olive,
128 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

who, in spite of her love of everything wild, was as
dainty as a white kid glove.

“ They had a practical reason: the mud dried into a
crust that kept the insects from driving them wild.
From doing this frequently, and turning round and
round as they wallowed and splashed, many of these
pools were shaped into sort of deep, round bath tubs,
as a potter shapes a clay vessel with his thumb. In
fact, Buffaloes were so fond of rolling to scratch them-
selves, that they also rolled head first in earth and sand,
as well as water, and in time their horns came, in this
way, to be worn and stubby. An English traveller,
early in this century, wrote that in Pennsylvania, before
the Buffaloes had learned to fear people, a man built a
log house near a salt spring where many Buffaloes came
to drink. The Buffaloes evidently thought the house
would make a delightful place to rub and scratch, for
history says they actually rubbed it down !

“Before they learned the dread of House People,
and the necessity of keeping constantly on the watch,
the Buffalo’s life was much like that of the great
herds of domestic cattle that now range the same
prairie pastures. The calves frisked and played, the
herds had their times of rest, of plenty and of scarcity,
though the Buffalo was a difficult animal to starve,
and faced out blizzards before which the domestic
cattle would turn tail and perish. This was one
great reason why he should have been protected,
and this magnificent monarch kept in his kingdom
and developed to suit present need. The Buffalo
was able to withstand all the natural dangers, of cold,
hunger, and prowling Wolves, to which he was exposed,
MONARCHS IN EXILE 129

and still increase and multiply. They made good
fathers, too, taking the young calves under their pro-
tection, sometimes hustling them along through the
Wolf packs with horns lowered and tails raised, keep-
ing the calves well inside the flying wedge. Their vi-
tality was so great that, if in falling over a precipice
after some foolish run, a leg was broken, its owner was
quite able to go about on the other three until it knit
again. ‘This is the first scene,—the golden days of
the Buffaloes, — when they swarmed by hundreds of
thousands like mosquitoes over a marsh. These were
the days when the red men had no weapons sufficient
to kill them.

“ Listen to what came upon the Buffalo in the second
scene, in the days of fair hunting, this time beginning
we do not know when and lasting until threescore
years ago.”

“How many is a score, more than a dozen?” inter-
rupted Dodo.

“A score is twenty.”

“ Are there two kinds of scores?” persisted Dodo,
“for you know, Uncle Roy, a baker’s dozen is thirteen,
and a dozen postage stamps is twelve, and down at the
store they sell sticks of candy by postage-stamp meas-
ure.”

“A score is no more nor less than twenty,” laughed
the Doctor; “but do not lead me away from our second
scene. When the Indian had no weapons, he could
slay only small game, and even when he had only a club
and stone axe to help him the killing of the thick-
skinned, wool-clad Buffalo must have been a difficult
task. Do the best he could, the red man had to work

K
130 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

desperately hard for every pound of flesh or hide he
captured.

“Then the mind of man began to develop and aid
him. The Indian, knowing the Buffalo’s habit of
stampeding from fright, laid stones, sticks, and brush on
either side of some open space to make a sort of drive-
way, wide apart at first, but gradually narrowing until
it ended either in a sort of pen or at the edge of a preci-
pice.

“ After a herd was located, and this in itself was
not always easy, a disturbance was made to start it run-
ning in the right direction. Perhaps a man went out
and waved his arms, retreating down the driveway as
the first of the herd came near to look at him. The
curious animal would quicken his pace, and as soon as
he was fairly started the Indian slipped behind the bar-
ricade and joined with his comrades in shouting to
frighten the herd that were now following their leader
at full gallop.

“On the mad throng rushed, crowding and trampling
each other as the track narrowed, until, when they
arrived in the pen, they were giving each other mortal
wounds, the calves tossed on the horns of the old bulls
and the weaker trampled to death. Then, amid great
personal danger, the Indians rushed in and killed those
not already wounded, with stone axes, or in later days
shot them with their flint arrows. You can see that it
must have taken a strong arm to send a clumsy stone
arrow through the thick Buffalo hide. If the animals
were driven over a cliff and fell crippled at the bottom,
the killing took place there in the same manner as in
the pen. After the slaughter, the men discussed various
MONARCHS IN EXILE 1381

scenes of the affair as if it had been a battle between
tribes, and the women came in, skinned the animals,
cut up the meat, packed it on their wheel-less dog-carts,
and took it to camp.”

“How can there possibly be a cart without wheels ?
It would only be a box that would bump and spill,”
said Dodo, who had kept quiet an unusually long time
for her.

“This Indian cart, as wheel-less as the Eskimo
sledge, is called a travois, and is still in use among the
scattered tribes, except that now it is dragged by
horses. Can you imagine how it was made?”

“Oh, I know what it is; we saw it at the Wild
West Show! Don’t you remember?” shouted Nat.
“The thing like a pair of cross-legged shafts fastened
to the horse’s back, with the big ends trailing on the
ground, and braces across right behind the horse’s
back knees, to keep it together and make a place to
hold things!”

“Yes, that was a travois, and it is possible to drag
it over ground that would quickly break cart wheels.
Some time after, when the civilized races or House
People came to America and settled along the coasts,
the horse found its way among the Indians. He came
with the Spanish through Mexico in the South, and
from the Canadian French in the North. Soon an
Indian’s wealth began to be measured by horses, as
we measure ours by dollars. Indians mounted on
half-breed horses followed the Buffalo over the plains,
with greater success, for, as the old range of these
animals in the East and South was being peopled
and cultivated, the Buffalo crowded westward, as the
132 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Indians themselves were soon to be crowded from
their hunting-grounds. This was the beginning of the
end, though it took many years yet to drive the mon-
arch from his kingdom.

“Act third came, passed rapidly and with it the
Buffalo. Firearms, from musket to pistol, were plen-
tiful, and then followed the deadly, long-range rifle.
Stupid greed fell upon the Indian and white settler
alike. No one listened to the warning cry, ‘Take
what ye need to eat.’ It was not only flesh for food
and hides for covering, but hides for sale, and cow
hides at that, with no respect of season. ‘The Indian
found that much deadly fire-water could be bought for
Buffalo skins, and also that the hides of the females
and calves were the softest and most valuable.

“So then the massacre began; for it was outright
murder to kill the females and young. Whites and
Indians went out to kill, as an army prepared to ma-
neeuvre, surprise, trap, and give no quarter. The Buf-
faloes were chased by men on horseback, who shot with
pistols, as more easily used with one hand, and were
also shot at from ambush with the long-range rifle, so
that the poor bewildered things, often seeing no enemy,
did not know in what direction to escape, and huddled
together helpless. victims. Still they held their own
and increased until the last scene of all took place; and
it seems to me that it was only yesterday.

“A railroad stretched its iron arm across the coun-
try, —it was the Union Pacific. Have you ever seen
the ants rush out of a great hill that has been dis-
turbed? Could you count them?”

“Oh,” said Rap, “I’ve seen them often, and you
MONARCHS IN EXILE 183

could no more count them than you could drops of
water in a hurry.”

“Well, so it was with the Buffaloes; there were
never any large fourfoots on earth to equal them in
numbers, and even in my day we have true records of
a single herd of no less than 4,000,000 head. A friend
of mine once, riding on a train, passed for more than
one hundred miles through a single herd. It was dan-
gerous, I can tell you, for the trains, and they often
had to stop to let the Buffaloes pass by. At this time
the Buffaloes were then in two great herds, the north-
ern and the southern. Then these began to melt away
as great snowballs do in the sun. Railroads meant an
easy way to reach the Buffaloes, an easy way to trans-
port the skins; for it was the skin more than the
meat that was desired. The engine whistle sounded
the exile of this monarch, and for ten years his kingdom,
shrinking and shifting, was a battlefield strewn with
skinned carcasses. Next, the horns were gathered, and
finally the bleached bones themselves were carried
away to be ground into fertilizer, and thus make the
obliteration complete.

“During a few years more there were stragglers here
‘and there, and, in 1890, when I was going westward
from the Black Hills in Wyoming, I shot the beast
whose head and skin we have here now. I said, ‘I
will take this eastward when I have a home again, that
my grandchildren may believe that such beasts lived,
and that their grandfather knew them on their native
plains, for by that time this king will be in exile.’ It
has all happened sooner than I thought.

“ Now a few, a mere handful, twenty-four perhaps in
134 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

all, live wild in the Yellowstone Park. A hundred
more are scattered here and there in kind captivity,
where they may live for some time, but lose their type
and spirits like the captive Indians. Now you may
travel the plains from New Mexico north and see no
other trace of the Buffalo than a weather-beaten skull,
—the perch for a burrowing Owl, or the retreat of the
other king, the Rattlesnake.

“As the Buffalo vanished, the Indian as a freeman
vanished also; his wild beef is gone and he is given
rations in begrudged charity. Once both Buffalo and
Indian might have been developed to useful citizens ;
now, if we succeed in preserving either race, it will be
only as captives. The kingdom of each is destroyed,
and the people of this land are not blameless.”

“It’s a very sad story, and I’m afraid the left-over
Buffaloes won’t like it very well even in the new Zodl-
ogy Garden,” said Dodo, attacking the word bravely,
but missing it. “Any sort of land with a fence
around it must seem crampy for them. I’m very glad,
anyhow, that I saw those at the circus.”

“I’m sorry for the Indians and the Buffaloes both,”
said Rap, solemnly, after a long pause when every one
sat silently looking at the fire; “but I s’pose if white
people wanted the land, it had to be because of what the
first selectman calls ‘ progress’ !”

The elder people laughed heartily at this, and Nat
said, “I don’t see what he has to do with Indians and
Buffaloes; he’s old Mr. Hodder down by the bridge, |
and he’s never been anywhere.”

“Perhaps not,” said Olive, “but I know what Rap
means. This is the way it happened. You know
MONARCHS IN EXILE 1385

Widow Hull that has the little house beyond East
Village by the tollgate ?”

“T do,” said Dodo. “She makes lovely taffy and
jumbles and ginger pop !”

“Well, she won’t any more; they are going to take
away the tollgate and her house, to make the road
wider to run trolley cars on. Mrs. Hull has to move,
and she feels dreadfully, and says she’ll starve. I heard
her talking about it to Mr. Hodder.

“ across lots down to the next corner,’ said he. ‘Yer can
sell yer truck there.’

“*But,’ said Mrs. Hull, ‘the trolley cars go by down-
hill there and nobody’ll stop to buy. They all had to
stop at the tollgate !’

“<«T know that, marm,’ said he, getting cross, ‘ but
it’s progress; progress always hurts somebody, marm.’”

“Won't yer please hand in dis yer tray, Massa
Blake,” said Mammy Bun’s cheery voice at the door.
“JT doan like walkin’ on dem skins and tings, dey
slipped me down yesterday, dey did; good rag carpet
tacked tight am fine “nough for dis ole ’oman. Lan’
sakes, how can dey take pleasure sittin’ in dat barn
room, like dey had no good home all fixed nice,” she
muttered, as the door closed behind her.

The tray held a light supper, because after dinner the
children said they could not possibly eat a real supper ;
but after Dodo and Nat had made three trips to the
kitchen for fresh supplies of toast and biscuits, they
decided that it was never safe to say immediately after
dinner that you would not be hungry for tea.
186 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Poor old Buffalo,” said Dodo, sitting on the settle
by her mother and stroking the wavy hair of the
robe, “you were one of the biggest of our fourfoots,
and now all that is left of you is a skin and a stuffed
face. Please, Uncle Roy, don’t you think the skin
would feel more at home over there on the wall by its
head than in being sat on?”

Amid the general laugh that followed, Nat went to
the window, rubbed the frost from the pane, and looked
out.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, Uncle Roy!” he cried, “the
moon is out, and the snow looks smooth and crisp!
Could anything be jollier for to-morrow? Rod says
we can learn to tell animal tracks quick as anything in
new snow. Suppose I should shoot a Rabbit to bring
home to mother, and we may even see a Coon! Only
I think it will be much harder to hit a real running
Rabbit than our Deer target, even with the little
shot-gun.”
XI
RABBIT TRACKS

Wig OW dark it was the next morning
} when the four boys gathered in the
kitchen for their breakfast at 6.30.
But then you know what is late
in summer is early in winter:
it all depends upon when the
sun chooses to get up and make
day. :

You may also wonder who
the two boys were beside. Nat
-and Rap. If you had been there, you would have seen
that they were the Doctor and Mr. Blake, who were
in as high spirits as the children, and played so many
pranks that Mammy Bun could hardly pour out the
coffee for trying to hide her laughter.

“ Where is the little shot-gun ?” had been Nat’s first
question on coming down. ‘Is it loaded?”

“J think not, but I will look to make sure,” said
Mr. Blake. “Ah, don’t do that,” he added quickly, as
Nat tried to look down the gun barrel. ‘Never do
that. What did I tell you the first day you shot at
the target? Open the gun here at the breech by
pulling down the lever so, always being careful not to
point it at anybody or thing. Never take it for granted

187




188 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

that a gun is not loaded, and never trifle with it under
any circumstances. It depends entirely upon how you
behave toward this httle gun whether your uncle ever
gives it to you for your own or not; but for the present
you must be content never to even handle it except
when one of us is with you.”

“Aren't you going to take any nighties?” asked
Dodo, who had come down dressed in a rather confused
mass of the warmest clothes she could find, half hoping
that, in spite of everything, she might be allowed to go
at the last moment.

“No, missy, the only way we could use nighties at
Nez’ camp would be to put them on over our clothes.
A good blanket apiece will be much more useful.”

“The stage-driver from Chestnut Ridge way allowed,
when he came down last night, they had a big fall er
snow there yesterday, that is, big fer the season,”
said Rod, as he drove up with Tom and Jerry in the
farm wagon, deep with straw to keep feet from chilling.

“Why didn’t you bring the sleigh?” called Olive
from the window, where she stood in the dusk to watch
them off, wrapped in a down quilt.

“ Snow’s too soft; be all cut up down by the daypo.”

“ There’s an old sled in the barn, may I take it with
me? If there’s thick snow at the Ridge, there may be
some at Nez’ camp,” said Nat, eagerly.

“We have as much as we can carry now, my boy,”
said the Doctor, “and you may be very sure if there is
enough snow for coasting, Nez will have some sort of a
contrivance for you to do it with.”

“ Oh, look !” cried Rap, pointing toward the southeast.
The turnpike stretched a pure white pathway between
RABBIT TRACKS 139

the purplish gray arch of bare maple branches, and
where it seemed to touch the sky, the sun was saunter-
ing out from a purple and gold gateway.

“Good morning! Are you all washed and dressed ?”
called Dodo, kissing her hands to the sun in particular
and then stretching out her arms to the beautiful world
in general.

“ Which reminds me, speaking of washing,” said her
father, kissing her and setting her down inside the door,
“that I do not believe you have been on speaking terms
with your own particular cake of soap this morning.”
Dodo laughed and went upstairs “to,” as she said,
“unbuild her clothes and begin all over again.”

“ Let’s run,” said Tom to Jerry, as they turned out of
the gate; “I feel so very fly that I should lke to fly.
Why don’t you laugh? That’s a joke,” he continued,
jogging Jerry with his shoulder and nearly upsetting
him.

“ Better not try it,” said Jerry, settling his gait again,
“or we may be put to haul logs, or in the threshing-
machine, instead of dragging a sleigh, by and by, and
hearing House People tell funny stories.”

“ Look at the tracks all over the snow everywhere,
I didn’t see any yesterday,” said Nat, as they drove
down the turnpike; “some big and some little and
some tiny. What do they all belong to, daddy?”

“Rabbits chiefly,—they are almost all pad-footed
prints. I see one trail that belongs to a Skunk; and
another, those sharp clean jumps by the stone fence,
tells of a Mink; the smallest, like a bird track, prob-
ably belongs to a Meadow Mouse. You did not see
them yesterday because the little beasts seldom come
140 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

out until the second day after a snowstorm. We
haven’t time to stop for you to look for them, but we
shall find plenty more at the mountain.”

“ Rabbits are rather common everywhere in America,
aren’t they?” asked Rap.

“Yes, some member of the family is to be found
everywhere, from the Polar Hare of the Barren Grounds
to the Jack Rabbit of the hot sand-deserts of Texas
and the southern half of the entire West.”

“You call some Rabbits and others Hares. What is
the difference between a Rabbit and a Hare? Don’t
they belong to the same family?” asked Nat.

“Perhaps they work in different guilds,” ventured
Rap.

“No,” said the Doctor, “they all belong to the long-
eared, short-tailed gnawers, with the patent-jumping
hind legs. The difference is, beside size, that little
Hares are born in grassy nests with fur on and their
eyes open; while little Rabbits are naked and blind and
are born in burrows. All our species are Hares. The
Rabbits that House People keep sometimes as pets,
are true Rabbits, children of European parents, and
not American fourfoots, though we still continue to
call our Hares, Rabbits, the same as we call Bisons,
Buffaloes.”

“See, there goes acommon Rabbit now!” cried Rap.
“Tow he bobs along and then stops and sits up; do
stop a second, Rod. He’s looking at something by that
tree and doesn’t hear our wheels, because of the snow !”

“What queer tracks he makes,” said Nat. “I
thought the two big marks were made by his fore
feet ; they look as if he hopped backward, but he


Woop Hare.

(Gray Rabbit.)
RABBIT TRACKS 141

doesn’t. How are these tracks made, uncle, do you
know?”

“Yes, but Iam going to let you and Rap find that
out for yourselves.”

“T know,” said Rap; “he swings his hind feet around
his fore paws. I’ve often watched one do it.”

“There is a Downy Woodpecker tapping on the
tree,” said Mr. Blake. “Now Bunny sees it, and his
nose twitches as if he were saying, ‘Hello! is it only
you making all that noise ?’”’

“JT wonder what makes Rabbits so very scarey,” said
Nat; “they always seem to be afraid of something, and
their ears never stop jerking and twitching.”

“Tt’s because everybody and everything is always
chasing them,” said Rap.

“Precisely! If you could spend a single day inside
one of their leaf-brown skins, you would very soon see
why poor brother Rabbit is so timid. Half of the year
he is hunted by man ; all the year, in wild places, he is
the daily meat of the Fox, Skunk, Mink, Wildcat, and
the larger birds of prey, and when he comes near vil-
ages or farms the house cats and dogs take their turn
at chasing him.”

“'There’s an everlastin’ sight too many on ’em any-
way,” put in Rod; “if they wasn’t kep’ down somehow,
there’d be no use farmin’. If you mean to grow turnips
and mangels nex’ year, Doctor, yer’ll have ter clear
some on ’em out o’ the long wood.”

“JT don’t see why there are any left at all,” said Nat ;
“how is it, uncle?”

“Heart of Nature gives the smaller, feebler animals
many ways of hiding and a great many children, to
142 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

make up for the dangers they run, as we found he did
with the birds. You remember that the Hawks and
Owls, with their strong beaks and claws, who nest in
far-away lonely places, laid fewer eggs than the birds
who were weaker, or more exposed to danger. You
know that the Ruffed Grouse and Bob-white, whose
nests are on the ground, have a great many eggs, and
are protected beside by the likeness in color of their
feathers to the leaves and rocks. Color protection, it
is called.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” said Nat. “Then do the
fourfoots have this color protection too, and do they
moult their fur as birds do feathers and change color?”

“Don’t you remember the Buffalo moulted his hair
every spring, and looked as miserable and ragged as
any old rooster?” said Rap.

“Yes, of course, but he didn’t change color very
much, only sort of faded, and then plenty of birds like
Sparrows and Thrushes don’t change much either.”

“ Several of our fourfoots change color as completely
every year as the Bobolink or Tanager,” said the Doctor.
* co HK aK *

They reached the station not a minute too soon.
After settling themselves in the passenger car, — for
there was only one and one baggage truck, —as the frost
was too thick on the windows for them to look out, they
continued their talk about Rabbits.

“How long must we stay in these cars? They are
dreadfully stuffy,” said Nat, as he took off his cap and
scarf and helped Rap to unwind his.

“Less than an hour,” said the Doctor. “We go
around the hills and the mountain and stop the other
RABBIT TRACKS 143

side, instead of going through and over as we did when
we drove there last month.”

“Wow many children do Rabbits have every year,
daddy, and where do they live, —in holes like Wood-
chucks, or haystack houses like Muskrats?”

“ Our Gray Rabbit, or Wood Hare, as the Wise Men
wish him called, hides in holes or burrows, generally
made by some other animal, sleeps or rests often in a
form made by its body in the grass, and cares for its
young in a ground nest, lined with grasses and its own
soft fur, which hides the little Bunnies from sight.
Three times a year a single pair of Hares may have a
nestful of young to care for, so.you can easily see why
there are plenty of them. But the Wolf, the Bear, and
the Wildcat, who have protecting teeth and claws, do
not have somany young. In fact, the Bear and Wild-
cat have to be content with only three or four.”

“ Are there many other kinds of Rabbits in this coun-
try beside the Wood Hare?” asked Rap.

“Twelve or more, though four or five are all that will
interest you.” —

*- “Do tell us about them now,” begged Nat, “it won't
make it seem so long in getting to Chestnut Ridge, and
these cars are so slow !”

«“<¢Yet the way seemed long before him,
And his heart outran his footsteps!’”

hummed the Doctor.

“What does that mean? It’s poetry,” said Rap,
“but I don’t understand it.”

“Tt means that when you want to get to a place very
much, you wish yourself there so much faster than you
144 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

can possibly travel, that the journey seems about four
times as long as it really is!”

“Tf we hear about Rabbits now, won’t Dodo be dis-
appointed?” asked kind-hearted Rap.

“T have pictures of them in my portfolio, and you
boys must remember and tell her all about them.

“Of these four Rabbits the Wood Hare, the smallest
and prettiest, is something less than a foot and a half
long from the tip of his nose to the root of his cunning
little turned-up white tail.”

“Ts that the way you measure fourfoots, to the be-
ginning of their tails?” asked Rap. “We measure
birds to the end of the tail.” :

“Yes, but a bird’s tail where it joins the body is so
overlaid with feathers that it is difficult to tell where it
begins and the body ends ; with fourfoots it is differ-
ent. If I should tell you, for instance, that a Red Fox
was four feet long, you would think him much longer
than he is, and not understand his size as well as if I
said his body was two and a half and his tail one and a
half feet long.”

“Yes, I see; if the tail was measured in, he would
seem a giant.”

“The Wood Hare has large eyes, long ears, the long
hind legs of the family, also fur snow-shoes on the soles
of his feet.”

“What good are such long back legs?” asked Nat.

“To jump with; every animal family has some par-
ticular way of moving, —locomotion it is called, — and
Hares are leapers, which is told in the Latin name
lepus the Wise Men give them.”

“Does this Hare ever change color and moult?”
RABBIT TRACKS 146

“He keeps very much the same color all the year, —
a grayish brown top coat with bits of yellow and a
whitish vest. As to moulting, all fur-bearing animals
moult spring and fall, and have a long hairy covering
that they wear all the year, and a short soft under-fur
that grows thick to keep them warm in winter and
thins out in spring. Animals from the North need
most protection and have the thickest under-fur, so are
of more value than the same sort of animal who lives
in the South and has little need of under-fur. All the
old hair has its time of breaking and shedding like the
hair of our own heads. ‘This Hare likes to live near
woods where he can find tender shoots to nibble, when
gardens are empty and meadows covered with snow ;
but he spends most of his time in brush lots where
there is thick shelter, and he lives in every state in the
Union that can yield him food.’ Pretty and gentle he
is, yet no one can deny that he is a mischief-maker, and
while he must not be allowed to eat our lettuce, cab-
bages, or field roots, we must also be careful not to
exterminate him.”

*-« What good does he do? Can he earn his living
and pay his taxes?”

“Ves, he does, in a roundabout way, by being food
‘for some other animal, who would eat more valuable
things if it were not for poor little Bunny.

“ Another Hare which might be mistaken for the
Gray Rabbit is his swamp-loving cousin, the Marsh Hare ~
who lives south of North Carolina, taking to the water
like a rat. This Marsh Hare has a large head, short
-ears.and legs, and little or no hair on its soles, so that
its footprints show the mark of the toe-nails. Its coat

L
146 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

is darker in winter than in summer, and is always a
deeper brown than the Wood Hare’s, and its tail is a
mere scrap lined with gray.”

“Why do they have shorter ears and legs than the
Wood Hare, and no fur under their feet?” asked Nat.

“ Mammals, like birds, are all adapted to the places
in which they live. A Hare living in open woods and
fields must have long legs to give him speed to run to
cover and long ears to catch the least sound of danger.
The openings of their ears are sidewise, though they
can move them forward and back when they are listen-
ing. The sense of smell and hearing in the gnawing
fourfoots seems to be chiefly used to tell them where
their enemies are; while the ears and noses of the flesh







MarsH Hare.
RABBIT TRACKS 147

eaters serve to guide them to the animal food they hunt.
The ears of the cannibal beasts open forward, and have
little pockets in their outside edges, like sounding
boards, to catch the sounds coming from behind them.”

“Why, Mr. Wolf and Quick have those things in
their ears. I’ve often wondered whether they were
tears or bites, or made so on purpose,” said Nat.

“To return to our Marsh Hare, who lives in soft
ground, hiding by dense bushes and often hides in the
water itself with his ears flattened back and only his
eyes and nose peeping above it, what use would long
legs be to him? He does not go into farms and gar-
dens for his food, but browses on twigs and marsh roots.
He could not leap about in such places, and hairy soles
would make his feet heavy and soggy when he swims,
and he slinks along close to the ground when on land.
His greatest danger is from great water snakes and
alligators. His nest, made of chewed-up reeds some-
times nicely arched like a Meadowlark’s, is often placed
on so small a hummock that it seems to float like that
of a marsh bird, and the very young Marsh Hares have
fttnny, chubby little heads quite unlike the little Wood
Havre.

“You must go quite across country if you expect to
find the third Hare of the group. If you move west
to Texas in a straight line from the Marsh Hare’s
haunts, you will find the most astonishing member of
the Hare family. Anywhere from Texas to Montana,
or from Missouri to the Pacific, if you see a cloud of
dust following the ground in the open, or a miniature
cyclone part the grass, stop a bit and watch. What
is it going by? A blown-away windmill, a Kangaroo
148 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

turning somersaults, a mechanical flail escaped .from
its inventor? No, only a Jackass Rabbit (called Jack
for short), the largest and best known of this south-
ern group. When Jack pauses, you will find him a
curious combination of Donkey’s ears joined to long
legs by a skinny bit of a body about two feet long,
covered above with light brown hairs tipped and striped
with black, and a black tail three inches long, all this
standing on large pad feet. Jack looks as stupid as
his hoofed namesake, put as he whirls along to spread
ruin to field, garden, and orchard, with his endless
appetite, you cannot but admire the muscle and endur-
ance of this prince of Gnawers. Jack Rabbits swarm
over their range in vast troops. Ten, fifteen, or even
twenty thousand at one time have been surrounded









Ernest Sefonglhaah

JACK RABBIT.
RABBIT TRACKS 149

and driven into pens and slaughtered, very much after
the same fashion that the Indians trapped the Buffa-
loes. Though this sounds cruel, it seems to be neces-
sary, if the great crops, that mean bread to the country,
are to be saved. Now, instead of merely killing the
Rabbits and letting the flesh go to waste, thoughtful
sportsmen have made a plan to send them to nearby
cities to be food for the poor who can buy but little
meat.”

“ Aren’t there any other fourfoots out there to help
keep the Jacks down?” asked Rap.

“Yes, the Coyotes, or Prairie Wolves, used to feed
on them, but people found that these little Wolves
stole young calves and sheep, and they turned about
and killed so many of them that the Jack Rabbits
laughed, shook their ears, and said, ‘We are good
things, let us eat more and raise a great many children,’
and off they whirled again. No other beast can run
like a Jack Rabbit ; the swiftest horse cannot overtake
him in a fair chase, and there is a famous race recorded
between a Jack and a greyhound, where the Hare dis-
tanced his pursuer for two miles and a half and then
hid in a log, leaving the hound quite spent.

“The result of the Jack Rabbits living as they pleased.
and holding high carnival was a series of hunts in
which thousands were killed ; then the Coyotes in that
particular spot, having no Jacks to eat, took calves,
sheep, and poultry boldly, and so trouble for the farmer
and cattle raisers rolls along between the two animals.
What suits the ranchman does not suit the farmer, and
the-end of the war is not yet in sight.”

“Perhaps an earthquake may swallow them all, —
150 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Jacks and Coyotes,” said Nat, cheerfully. “No one
would mind, would they, uncle?”

“Tam quite sure they would not,” said the Doctor,
laughing; “and it would be one less thing for animal
lovers to worry about.”

“We are quite lucky to have such a nice sort of
Rabbit living here, even if it does eat a little more
than we can spare,” said Nat. “But you haven't told
us about the kind that changes his color every year.
What is it called, and does that live in the North or
South ?”

“Tt is named the Varying Hare and lives northward
from the state of New York, up to Canada and the
northwestern parts of British America. In fact, its
haunts in the Northwest touch and overlap those of the
Polar Hare, who lives as far north as man has been,
and is the companion of the Musk Ox and Polar Bear.
Tn that far-away home this Hare always stays the color
of the surrounding snow.

“In size this Varying Hare comes between the Jack
Rabbit and Marsh Hare; it has much of Jack’s length
of limbs, ears, and power of running, though it is,
fortunately, not as destructive. It has furry feet like
our Wood Hare, and the feeding and living habits of
the two are very much alike, except that the Varying
Hare is more rarely seen about in full daylight and
prefers to feed toward evening, or in the night, like so
many of our fourfoots. The change of color is what
calls our attention to it. In summer its general hue
is reddish brown, many of the long hairs having black
tips. Its underparts are white and yellowish and its
little turned-up tail is white and fluffy, so that the
RABBIT TRACKS 161

name Cotton Tail apples to it as well as to our Wood
Hare. ‘This dress is worn from April to November, or
a trifle earlier or later according to location. During
autumn or early winter, in its most northern haunts,
it becomes almost white with the exception of a few
dark hairs that fringe the ears. How is this done?”





VARYING HARE.

“Moulting!” said the boys together. ‘“ Moulting
the dark summer hair, and getting new white hair for
winter.”

“That is the way that I believe the change is made,
but the Wise Men have disagreed about this for some
time. Some of them think that the brown summer fur
grows longer and changes white at the approach of
winter. Others that the new winter coat comes in
152 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

'

brown and then blanches, while others confess that they
have not yet decided.

“You know I told you a few minutes ago that our fur
animals have a soft under-fur beside the long hairs.
Some Wise Men say these, in the Varying Hare, are
quite black in summer, but as soon as very cold weather
touches them they begin to grow white at the tips. As
the cold continues the white spreads down, until in
very cold climates the whole hair grows white, and the
thick under-fur also comes in white. They say that in
spring, when the cold is over, the little white tips break
off the long hairs and the color comes back to the lower
parts until such times as they are pushed out by new
hair; but animals like the Arctic Fox, Polar Hare, and
Bear always stay in the cold and snow and so are always
protected by a white coat.”

“Why do you think this Hare moults and grows new
white fur, uncle?” asked Nat.

“Because I have examined many specimens shot at
different seasons, and I found that the white fur is
much finer and softer than the brown summer coat, —
a fact very easily seen on the nose and ear tips, where
the change begins; in fact, the white winter fur seems
to me to be of an entirely different texture, without
the grain and stiffness of the summer coat. Perhaps
one of you boys will, some day in the future, be
the very one who will settle this matter — who knows?
But whether this Hare changes by moulting or not, in
places where it is not so cold only the tips of the outer
fur are white, and he looks merely snow sprinkled. So
you see varying is a very good name for the Hare, as he
even varies according to the place where he lives.”
RABBIT TRACKS 153

““T suppose there is some reason for that too,” said
Rap.

“ All through with the Rabbits?” asked Mr. Blake,
who had been in the baggage car. “We shall be at
the Ridge in a few minutes, and I think you'll find a
surprise waiting for you. No, I won’t tell; no use in
asking.

“Did the Doctor say anything about the Little Chief
Hare, a sort of a cousin to Cotton Tails, who stands up,
puts his hands in his pockets, and whistles?” asked
Mr. Blake, quickly, to divert the boys’ attention. “Yes,
I’m not joking, for I’ve seen them stand up and heard
them whistle, though I won’t be positive about the
pockets.”

“Do they live near here?” asked Rap.

“No, miles and miles away. The first one I ever
saw was when I was prospecting with our survey in
autumn, along a. cliff beyond the Missouri divide. I
heard a queer little noise, something between a cry, a
squeal, and a whistle, coming from a pile of slide rock.
I waited a minute, and the sound came again and
seemed to either echo or be repeated from several
places. Presently out hopped or rather hobbled, for
they move slowly, a couple of queer little beasts not
eight inches long, with wavy brown and black fur,
small round ears, real Guinea Pig faces, and nothing
but a sort of bump fora tail. I said to myself, ‘You
look something like a Gopher, but you’re not; you
look as if you had tried to be a Guinea Pig, but failed
on account of the climate. Who are you?”

“One of our party told me all its names, — Pika,
Little Chief, or Whistling Hare, and before I left that
154. FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

region I saw a Pika household, inside a little loose
tower of flat slide rock. What do you think, but
the little fellows had a regular hay loft in there where
they had cut stout grass and brought it in bundles in
their mouths, packing it away on the stone shelves as
neat as you please, to have it ready for winter food. I
knew the hillside was full of these little beasts, for.
they kept squealing like a colony of singing mice.”

“Who would think that there is so much difference
between Rabbit cousins,” sighed Rap, as if he was op-
pressed by the amount there was to learn even about
the simplest fourfoots. “ Different lengths of ears and
legs ; even their scraps of tails are different.”

“Speaking of tails,” said the Doctor, “there is a
great deal more meaning in them than people usually
think. When a Hare is running you may have a poor
view of his head, but if you see his tail, it will give you
a clew to his name, for each species wears his in a dif-
ferent way.”

“Chestnut Ridge! Change for Saw Mills and the
Junction!” called a brakeman, throwing open the car
door.

Rap, who had kept his crutch ready during the last
half of the journey, reached the door as soon as Nat.
There was the surprise in front of them. Good sleigh-
ing, a big wood sled piled with blankets to drag them
to Nez’ camp, and Olaf for driver !










Pika, Lirtne CHIEF, OR WHISTLING HARE.
?
XII

THE WINTER WOODS





“ CE LAY! Olaf! How did you know
4 we were coming this way? Nez
wrote, ‘Never mind accepting,
but come,’ and so we did!”
cried Nat, before they had ex-
changed greetings with their
old friend. “ Beside, I thought
you lived too far off, — miles
farther away than Nez.”

“A Fox came to the lumber
camp two nights ago and barked three times,” replied
Olaf, laughing shyly as he glanced at the Doctor.
“The first bark said, ‘Some one thinks of you. The
second bark, ‘Go to the stopping-place of the iron
horse two days hence.’ The third bark said, ‘ You will
find there those you greatly love,’ so here I am.”

«A Fox, how could he know about us; though I’ve
heard they are very wise, and if he did know how could
he tell you?” said Nat, very much puzzled.

“Wood people understand the sign language of the
fourfoots,” replied Olaf, “and to show that what this
Fox said was true, next morning when I drove my team
down to the Saw Mills, there I saw a yellow fire-letter
from the good Doctor, telling me the same thing.”

155
156 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“ What is a fire-letter ?” asked Rap.

“The letter whose words come as lightning sparks,”
said Olaf, who, in trying to puzzle the boys, fell into
the picture language so common in the north countries.

“Oh, a telegram, of course!” cried Rap.

“But the Fox,” persisted Nat. “ I don’t understand
about him.”

“ Hush, do not speak loud or he may hear you, for
it was a very shy Fox that brought me the news, —a
Dream Fox!”

“Oh, how you fooled us!” shouted Nat.

“No, I don’t call it fooling,” said Rap, quite
seriously ; “a Dream Fox may be cousin of a Night-
mare!”

So they started on their sleigh-ride in a very jolly
mood, and in a few minutes left behind the dozen
houses and store that was called Chestnut Ridge, as
they cut down into one of the narrow valley roads
that finally zig-zagged up toward Nez’ camp.

“Tt takes more to make a mountain out in the far
west country than it does here, doesn’t it, daddy?”
asked Nat.

“Yes, I rather think it does; but there is more
comfort and beauty to the square inch in one of our
mountains, even if they do seem only molehills com-
pared to the Rockies.”

“IT see more Rabbit tracks,” said Rap, “and dog
tracks, too, —dogs that have been chasing them, —
over by those rocks !”

“Not dog, but Fox tracks,” said Olaf, “though the
print itself might be of a dog.”

“Then how do you know it isn’t?”
THE WINTER WOODS 157

“J will show you this thing that you may under-
stand a little of the wood language,” said Olaf, pulling
up the horses. ‘“ You need not fear to stick in the
snow; it is even, but not deep,” he said to Rap, helping
him down very gently. “ Keep behind me, so that we
may follow these tracks without trampling them down.
Ave the Fox tracks coming toward us or going away ?”

“ Coming toward us.”

“We will follow them backward to see where they
start.”

So saying they tracked the footprints a couple of
hundred feet around some hazel bushes, then on by a
little knoll until they ended, or rather began, in a low
opening between some rocks and a partly decayed log.
Here the snow was trodden down and mixed with earth
and several red splashes, while foot-prints returned to
the hole from a different direction.

“Dogs do not live in ground burrows or between
rocks ; now you see it isa Fox. Here the Fox went
out hungry, very early this morning, for the prints are
clear. There at the other side he returned with food,
—the blood stains are not more than three hours old.
It was not a bird he brought, but something heavier
that partly dragged on the ground, for there are marks
here and there in the snow. ;

“Turn now and follow the outgoing prints and you
will see what has happened. It is not a long course,
for this Fox found his breakfast quickly, I’m thinking.”

~ They turned about and retraced their steps until at

last Olaf pointed to where Rabbit tracks came from
under some bushes and went in the same direction as
the Fox marks.
158 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“ Here came the Rabbit, but much earlier than the
Fox, for his prints are crusted; now they run to-
gether.”

“Was the Fox chasing the Rabbit? I should think
Bunny could run the fastest,” said Rap.

“No, not chasing, but following him by scent. See!
here the Rabbit has stopped to nibble twigs and buds.
Ah! now we have the battlefield: the Rabbit nestled
in the snow, the Fox came here and crouched, waiting
for Bunny to move before springing. The end was
beyond in the open.”

The boys looked and saw where the snow was beaten
down and covered with little tufts of fur, and from
there were no more Rabbit tracks, only a single trail
leading back toward the den, brightened here and there
by blood marks.

“The Fox family had a good breakfast, anyway,”
said Nat, cheerfully. “How I wish I could have peeped
into their house. Can we?”

“T think we must hurry back ; a ney will be cold,
waiting in the sleigh.”

Soon the road met and followed the river and was
quite shut in on the north by hemlock woods.

“There is a very big mark,—a Woodchuck track,”
said Nat, pointing to a broad trail that came close to
the road and went toward the wood again. “TI didn’t
know they lived in such wild places.”

“Tt can’t be a Woodchuck, they hole up before it
gets as cold as this, you know,” said Rap.

“Hole up; no, I don’t know. Whatdo you mean?”

“Why, they don’t like cold, and go into their holes
and stay there until spring.”









THE WINTER WOODS 159

“Oh, yes, and live on what they have stored up, like
Mice and Squirrels.”

“No,” said the Doctor, “the Woodchuck lives with-
out eating, and sleeps so soundly that he never even
feels hungry ; the Ground Squirrels that go into their
holes for a time take care to fill their cupboards
first.”

“Why don’t the Woodchucks starve before spring,
or else freeze?”

“The fat they have gained in the summer by good
living keeps them from doing either, and this fat serves
them both for food and fire. Then, too, a Woodchuck
is very particular how he puts himself to bed for this
winter nap. He does not spread himself out like a
windmill and kick off the clothes, as some House
Children I know, do, but curls himself up with his
nose under his paws so that even his breath is not
wasted, but warms his feet like a stove.”

“Do any other fourfoots sleep this way ?”

“The long winter sleep? Yes, Bears do in cold
regions, sometimes not coming out until May. Their
little cousins, the Coons, also go in for a while in early
winter before there is a good crust on the snow, also
the Chipmunk, and many others beside.

“Even the animals who live on flesh and hunt all
through the winter are very particular how they go to
sleep in cold weather, usually managing to put their
noses on their legs, so that these parts that are thinnest
and feel cold soonest shall have the warmth of their
breath. The Fox does even more, he spreads his
bushy tail to cover his nose, and as you can imagine
makes a sort of respirator for himself, for by breathing
160 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

through his thick tail he gets no icy air to give him a
sore throat.”

“ TIsn’t it wonderful,” said Rap, as if he could hardly
understand it all. “I know by myself,” he added,
“that you can go longer without being hungry when
you are asleep than when you're awake. Sometimes
I’ve slept twelve hours, but when I’m awake I eat
breakfast, dinner, and tea all in twelve hours.”

“The streams are not frozen yet, even the little ones,”
said Mr. Blake; “it ought to be a good season for the
Si ike, who are great drinkers. Does Nez do much
trapping? Of course now there can be very little to
take hereabouts.”

“ He catches Skunks, Rabbits, Minks, anda few Foxes
and Otters,” said Olaf. “ Up to this week he has done
well on Coons, —his place looks something like a fur-
trading post. Nez is bound to catch something wherever
he camps. There’s a Fox been eating up a lot of fowls

hat belonged to an old woman down in the hollow, and

he has to be caught, or the poor old body will starve.
This Fox is too cute to trap, so Nez planned to watch
for it to-night. He has a » od dog and thought you
might like to go out, for. times’ sake, though a Fox
is small game after Panthers and Grizzlies.”

“Hull moon, too, nothing could be better,” said the
Doctor, adding with a boyish laugh, “it’s a duty to
kill a Fox that steals a poor woman’s poultry, isn’t it,
Jack?”

“Tt’s a poor sportsman who ever lacks an excuse for
fair hunting.” ‘Then the men began discussing Foxes
so earnestly that Nat had to speak twice before he was
heard.

>
THE WINTER WOODS 161

“Tf that wasn’t a Woodchuck trail by the road,
what sort of a broad, low-crawling beast made it ?”

“ A Porcupine, most likely,” said Olaf. “There are-
a few straying about still, though it is rather far south
for them.”

“ Porcupines? I thought they were Menagerie ani-
mals, — very dangerous ones who chase people and
shoot them all full of sharp spikes like arrows, that
grow on their backs! I hope they won’t come after us.
Cactus prickles are awful, when they get in your da,
but Porcupine spikes must be worse.”

“Nez has a Porcupine in a pen up at his camp, so
you can see it. They do not shoot t. ir quills. When
a Poreupine is frightened, he humps his back and draws
his head down between his fore paws like a Turtle try-
ing to get into his shell. Then al’ the quills on his
back stand out like a sort of shield, and if anything
tries to grab or bite the Porcupine, that thing will
surely get its mouth and paws full of spikes that helu
on like fish-hooks. He has an ugly square sort o1 a
tail, too, all covered with quills, that he uses for a club
when he is angry, and a b. w from it drives the barbed
spikes far into the flesh of 1. enemy.”

“Miohty queer things, these Porcupines,” said Mr.
Blake. ‘Sort of living pincushions with the pins put
in point up. I meddled with one when I was a boy,
and I haven’t forgotten it yet, —the pins went in point
first and stuck there heads down ! ”

“What good are they, daddy; do they have fur or
make meat, or eat bad insects, or belong to a guild?”

“They seem to be of no particular use to House
People, though the Indians are fond of their meat and

M
162 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

weave their quills into belts and other ornaments and
use them to trim their robes. In fact, Porcupines,
though gentle and harmless personally, are rather mis-
chievous animals belonging to the Gnawers, and eating
vegetable food. In winter they gnaw the twigs and
bark of trees,
and as they do
not sleep the
winter sleep
they destroy
a great deal
of valuable
wood. People
can tell how
deep the snow
has been by
the naked
bands on the
evergreen
trees where
the Porcupine
has gnawed
away the
bark, for they
are very hun-
ery beasts.”

“ How big are they,” asked Rap, “and do they live in
dens like Foxes or in the earth?”

“They sometimes grow to be twice the size of a
Woodchuck, and they look larger yet when their quills
stick up. They live in dens, in the crevices between
rocks and in tree holes. If you should look in one of





CANADA PORCUPINE.
THE WINTER WOODS 163

these places, you would find it strewn with the quills
that had fallen out from time to time.”

“If something bit them so they lost some quills,
would new quills grow in right away, or would they
have to wait for a regular time?”

“They begin to grow immediately, but it would take
three months before the quills would be ready to shed
again.”

“J should think if they ran through the bushes their
quills would catch in everything and come off, and
then any beast could kill them!”

“ But they seldom run. Did you ever see a Porcu-
pine run, Olaf?” asked Mr. Blake.

“They run, sir; but not so fast that a man may not
overtake them: they are so slow and stupid that it is
wonderful any yet live. Still in the north woods they
increase more and more, while the good Deer and use-
ful fur beasts are seen less and less.”

“Do you remember a toy dog you once had, Nat,
that could be wound up and would walk?”

“Oh, yes; only he didn’t walk well, and after a min-
ute or two he couldn’t go straight,—then he went
very slow and stopped.”

“That is precisely the way a Porcupine moves, but
even up in the pine trees where he spends most of his
time, and is really quite an acrobat in his deliberate
way, he goes from branch to branch in the same slow
manner, as much as to say: ‘Have I not a whole regi-
ment of spearmen on my back to protect me? My time
is my own!’ So he continues to crawl about chiefly
at night, sometimes stopping to croon or sing to him-
self, and is really a very unobjectionable object, unless
164 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

you happen to stumble over one in the dark; and people
who have kept them in cages say they have a great
many interesting ways.”

_“T see smoke; we are nearly at camp,” said the
Doctor; “and quite time, too, both my feet are fast
asleep. What shall you do with the horses, Olaf? It
is rather too chilly to pasture them in the snow.”

“There is an old barn here below, where Nez keeps
his cow and some hay; I’ll put them there until I take
you down again to-morrow.”

Soon they turned in between the trees, the horses
breaking the path. Everywhere about were the foot-
prints of little beasts, and in a few minutes they came
to Nez’ clearing. There was no outside fire, but smoke
and sometimes a few red sparks came from the stone
chimney of the log house.

Nez was busy at his work in the shed, which he had
wholly enclosed with boughs and bark; the boys saw at
once why Olaf said he had a “regular fur shop.” The
place was lined with various kinds of skins, drying
upon all sorts of stretchers, and more were stacked
away under the roof.

“Want to know!” said Nez, heartily, coming to meet
the party, followed by Stubble, the setter, the tame Fox,
who now wore a collar, and the two little boys who had
been told that they must speak up and be polite. They
only succeeded far enough to peep and stare while they
held tight, each to one of their father’s legs, as if they
thought their guests Grizzly Bears or Wildcats. They
wore queer peaked homemade caps of undyed Muskrat
fur, and short, lambskin jackets with the wool inside,
looking very much like a pair of captive brownies.
THE WINTER WOODS 165

Nez could have easily bought woollen caps and coats
for them in the Ridge village, but he loved simple,
wild ways and things, and understood the turning of a
skin directly into a coat better than the indirect way of
first changing it for money and then buying the needed
garment.

“Step right in by the fire,” said Nez, leading the
way to the cabin. Then for the first time the boys
realized that they were quite cold,—the excitement
and novelty of their journey had kept them from feel-
ing it before.

The cabin was very warm, for two fires were burn-
ing in a space that was scarcely more than one large
room divided by the stone chimney. In one fireplace
logs were blazing, in the other stood a small sheet-iron
stove, upon which Toinette was preparing dinner, stir-
ring something with a wooden spoon that yielded a
delicious “ have-some-inore” odor.

“Last winter we had a regular campfire on the
ground in the middle and just a roof draught for the
smoke, but we get too much rain along spring and fall
in these parts for that sort of chimney, though there’s
nothing like a fire where you can sit all the way
around.”

“Vill you now eat sometings, m’sieurs?” said
Toinette, hospitably, making a gesture toward the
plank table, which they then noticed was set with an
idea of festivity. Ground pine hung in festoons about
‘the edge and was arranged in a sort of mat in the
centre, figured with bunches and sprays of red berries.

“Yes, better feed now,” said Nez, “if you want a
little sport this afternoon, ’cause ‘long about dark we
166 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

must get after that Fox. LTve took a day off and Toi-
nette’s brother here is lookin’ after my traps.”

“Tsn’t it a holiday every day up here in the woods?”
asked Nat, as they sat down and Toinette placed before
each a bowl of smoking bean soup with little squares of
fried bread bobbing about in it.

“T reckon not! What made you think that, sonny ?
No holidays in winter for a man who tries to git a
livin’ in the woods now’days. It’s findin’ tracks and
settin’ traps and gittin’ the right bait; then goin’
visitin’ the traps to git yer property before a Fox ora
Weasel helps hisself to it, or it spoils so the pelt is no
good. If it snows hard, yer traps gets buried and
sometimes froze in. ‘Then there’s the beasts to skin
and the skins to cure, and the charcoal pit to mind, and
the woodpile to keep well squared, and the fire to keep
burnin’. No, siree, winter’s a busy time!” |

Rabbit stew followed the soup, then a sort of pud-
ding made of wild apples and barberry jam sweetened
with molasses, which the boys thought delicious.

“TJ cannot understand where you get so many pelts,
Nez,” said Mr. Blake. “I thought this part of the
country was skinned out years ago.”

“Tt was, and there’s nothin’ here for folks who want
to get things by the lot; such kind did what they could
to kill off the beasts. Now, I’ve read the signs here-
abouts, and I say to myself, ‘you may take so many
Coons, and Minks, and Skunks, and Foxes every winter
and not kill them out,’ and when I get jest that many
I stop and let ’em have fair play. I shall stop on
Coons this week, with a hundred good pelts to the
better ; but I’m not done with Foxes yet, there’s too
THE WINTER WOODS 167

many o’ them for the health of the fowls in these
parts.”

“JT shouldn’t want to kill a pretty little beast like
this; he seems quite like a dog,” said Nat, stroking
the pet Fox who was nosing about and begging for
scraps.

He was indeed a beauty, with his fluffy, reddish yel-
low fur, fine dark brush, bright eyes, and intelligent
face. He looked so innocent, too, not as if he could
outwit the cleverest of House People, or behead the
biggest gander in the flock with one bite of his little
white teeth.

“T thought you didn’t like Fox hunting, Uncle Roy,
and thought it cruel, and yet you are going yourself
to-night.”

“The Fox hunting I think cruel is not the necessary
and quick killing of a mischievous animal, but the habit
of keeping Foxes in what you might call a tame state,
encouraging them to breed on your ground, and then
turning out and chasing them with dogs trained for
the purpose, and when the poor Fox has run his best
and is spent (the longer he is kept going the better the
sportsmen like it), the dogs are allowed to tear him to
pieces.

“The fashion of chasing any four-footed animal with
dogs seems to me no sport. Teaching one fourfoot to
tear another to bits is barbarous, according to my way
of thinking. Even hunting the wild Fox with dogs
“seems a waste of time, since, if we really wish to destroy .
the beast, there are quicker ways of doing it without
putting dogs to the pain of such tiresome runs, or the
Fox through an agony of fear, which, to such an intel-
168 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

ligent animal, is worse than even the lingering death
of being torn to bits.”

“ But why does any one like to do so?” asked Rap.

“ The excuse given for it in England is that it is an
historic sport, a settled custom, that it makes use for a
fine race of horses, —hunters as they are called, —and the
exercise makes a strong race of people. We have an
unfortunate habit of importing customs without suffi-
cient reason. It was this spirit of borrowing that gave
us the English Sparrow.”

“Perhaps they will stop it now that there are such
fine bicycles to exercise with. Don’t you think bicycles
would be nice things to make Dodo and me strong and
tender-hearted?” said Nat, so innocently that he was
very much surprised when his father asked if he
thought his stocking would hold anything as large,
and what make he preferred.

“JT wasn’t fishing for one,” he hastened to explain,
“only thinking how good it would be for me,” at which
his father and uncle burst out laughing.

* * * * *

Presently it was agreed that Rap should stay at home
with the little boys and Olaf, who was to finish a sort
of toboggan, made from a long wide board which he
had steamed and rolled up in front for a fender and
fastened with hide thongs. It yet remained to be orna-
mented by a picture of Olaf’s painting.

Mr. Blake was interested in trying on a pair of snow-
shoes, that Nez had made partly for old times’ sake, and
partly in case the snow should be so deep during the
winter that he might need them in visiting his traps.

The Doctor and Nez prepared to give Nat his first
THE WINTER WOODS 169

taste of Rabbit shooting, and soon these three, accom-
panied by Stubble, who was an all-round hunting dog,
started down hill, Nat holding the little shot-gun in
hands that trembled with excitement, being very care-
ful that it was not pointing at any one, even though
it was not yet loaded.

The afternoon wore away. The toboggan was decked
with a picture of a large owl, which the youngest boy,
Dominique, insisted should have a red ribbon painted
about its neck, though his brother Phonse said owls
never wore such things.

Once in a while they heard a shot, but it was very
still otherwise, with no signs of animal life save the
pranks of a pair of half-tame Gray Squirrels who came
and went in their search for hidden food. The moon
shone silver white before the sun had set, and the two
exchanged greetings while they struggled with some
clouds that promised more snow or possibly wind and
rain. Presently by this mixed light they saw Nat com-
ing up the slope empty handed and hurrying ahead of
the others.

“ Didn’t you get anything?” called Rap. “ Didn’t
you shoot a Rabbit? Where is your gun?”

“No, I didn’t; but I nearly got one. It didn’t see
us a bit and was sitting up nibbling and I aimed as nice
as could be, — just as Uncle Roy told me, with the gun
against my shoulder and everything quite right, -— when
the Rabbit turned round and stared at me, and some-
~ how it was so cunning and comfortable and seemed to
trust me, that I didn’t like to kill it. While I was
thinking, it gave a couple of leaps and was gone!
Then I felt dreadfully foolish!”
170 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

‘You need not feel foolish,” said his father. “I
would much rather have you pity the Rabbit than bang
away recklessly, with ‘blood in your eyes,’ as the say-
ing goes. If you sometimes put yourself in the place
of the game you hunt, you will never become a ‘ Hunt-
ing Wolf.’ But what is that animal Nez is bringing ?—
it looks like a Fox, —and where is your gun?”

Nat hesitated and stammered: “lt is a Fox, the bad
Fox that ate the old woman’s chickens, — the one that
you were going to hunt to-night. I shot him, but it
was ‘an accident, and the gun bumped me dreadfully,
and uncle is angry and took it away.”

Then Dr. Hunter and Nez came up, the latter
carrying an unusually large Fox over his shoulder,
which he laid down on the snow, saying, with an air of
satisfaction, — :

“Thar, he’ll give no more trouble with his tricks,
though we are done out of a hunt, unless we go for
Coons. Look at him, old and gray, trap marks on all
four legs, and three toes off one foot; no wonder we
couldn’t snare him.”

‘‘ Nat says that he shot him and that you are vexed.
How did it happen?” asked Mr. Blake of the Doctor,
while Olaf drew near, eying the Fox eagerly.

“Let Nat tell his own story,” said the Doctor.

“Tt happened this way,” began Nat. “I was getting
tired and cold. Stubble didn’t start many Rabbits, so
uncle said for me to wait a little while by a bunch of
hemlocks that kept the wind off, while he and Nez
would go around the hill, and then if they found no
better luck we would go home. Then-—”

“Yes, but what else did I tell you?”
THE WINTER WOODS 171

“You made me take both shells out of the gun, and
told me to put them in my pocket, and —leave—them—
there — until — you—came—back,” said Nat, hesitating
and looking very much as if he wanted to ery, which
however was something he never did.

“Please don’t make me tell any more,” he begged,
but the Doctor motioned for him to go on.

“Then —then I waited and it seemed very long, and
I thought I would practise putting the shells into the
gun and taking them out, to amuse myself. One time,
when I had put them in I looked up, and beyond the
hemlocks, only a little bit away, I saw something come
out between the ground and some rocks. I couldn’t
tell exactly what sort of an animal it was, but I guessed
it was a Rabbit, and I didn’t want to wait until it
looked at me, so I grabbed the gun and shot it off, both
barrels, very quick, and the gun knocked me over.”
Here Nat stopped and drew a long breath, as if he
wanted to make sure he could breathe again.

“Nez and uncle came running back and thought I
was hurt, and that some one had shot me, because I fell
over in the snow. ‘Then they found the Fox not far
from his den, and he was mostly dead.”

“ Why did the gun knock you over?” asked Rap.

“You see I was in such a hurry I couldn’t think, and
put the gun against the front of me where I breathe,
instead of against my shoulder !”

“Oh! ho!” said Mr. Blake, “I begin to see why
your uncle was vexed. But why didn’t the Fox see or
smell you, I wonder? The idea of an old timer like
that escaping traps for a dozen years only to fall a vic-
tim of a small boy’s mistake.”
iD FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“The Fox was windward of Nat, who, as he says,
must have shot in a great hurry!”

“Tt was fine!” shouted Rap. ‘Only think, Nattie,
you’ve shot a very wicked Fox, and you can have the -
skin to make a rug for your mother, and perhaps she
will hang it in Camp Saturday for atrophy! Please,
why was it wrong, Dr. Hunter?”

“For this reason, Rap. I told Nat not to load his
gun; he disobeyed. He shot at something without be-
ing sure what it was; it happened to be a Fox, but it
might have been a dog, or a calf, or a man crawling in
the brush. Every year dreadful accidents happen and
people are killed and maimed for life because sportsmen
become excited and mistake a man for a Deer, a Bear,
or a Fox, and all the excuse they have is that it was a
‘mistake.’ People who can make such mistakes must
not handle guns.”

The boys looked so very sad that Mr. Blake said,
“] think Nat has learned his lesson early and once for
all; fortunately, by accident his accident wasn’t an
accident after all. Did you say your feet are cold?
I think we had better all go into the cabin.”

“They were very cold a while ago, daddy, for my
leggins leaked a little and the snow got in, but now
they feel better, or rather I don’t feel as if I had any
feet. 1 think it would be nice to put them by the
fire.”

“What! no feeling in them?” exclaimed the Doctor.
“Nez, bring me a pan of snow into the cabin, and off
with your leggins, my boy. No, don’t go near the fire,
if you do your feet will swell and you will have chil-
blains every winter for —I don’t know how long.” |
THE WINTER WOODS 173

“Oh, uncle! that will make my feet freeze hard!”
cried Nat, as the Doctor began to rub them vigorously
with handfuls of snow.

“No, it won't,” said Rap, consolingly ; “snow draws
the cold out; the miller used often to rub my cheeks and
ears with snow when I went out with him in winter.”

In a few minutes Nat said the feeling was coming
back, only that it tickled in spots, so his uncle rolled
him in a blanket and dropped him into the bunk filled
with hemlock boughs that was to be his bed later on.
There he lay comfortably watching the people come
to and fro, and the preparations for supper. He was
wondering if his uncle would ever let him have the
gun again, whether the men would go Coon hunting
that evening, or stay at home and tell stories, and then
he fell asleep.

When he awoke he did not know where he was at
first ; then he saw the supper table spread by the fire-
light, and a man, Toinette’s brother, by the open door,
who called to Nez: “ Returned am I in the good time ;
there was much fur in the traps, but the snow comes,
dat vat you call blinds,—ze squall!” He heard the
Doctor say : “ We must make the best of it ; no Coons
to-night. It isa good chance for the boys to hear about
the little fur beasts and see a few of them.” Then
Nat remembered where he was and scrambled up for
supper.
XIII
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE

eAKINNING so many animals about
.\ the camp makes a great many
kinds of queer smells,” whis-
pered Nat to Rap, as they sat
down to their supper of oat- .
meal porridge and coftee, while

Toinette was busy frying
something in a deep pan, which
needed a great deal of turning.

“The smell belongs mostly to
Skunks, for I noticed that Toinette’s brother had four
or five among the other fur beasts he took over to what
Nez calls his ‘Menagerie,’ in the shed, and all those
other animals have smells of their own beside. I won-
der what Toinette is cooking? it looks something like
chicken, but it isn’t quite the right shape.”

“ Maybe it is frogs’ legs; we used to have them often
when we lived in the city.”

Nez soon settled the question by calling, “* Whoever
wants squirrel-leg fry, hand up his dish and get it
right from the pan,” an invitation that was accepted at
once.

“ What becomes of the rest of the Squirrel?” asked
Rap, “is it any good?”




174
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 175

“Ah, oui! it is, mon enfant, for potage,—ze stew
you call him,” said Toinette, putting a fresh supply of
legs into the pan.

“ Delicious !” said the Doctor. “TI have eaten Squir-
rel before, but it never tasted like this.”

“Spiled in the cookin’,” said Nez; “easiest beast
there is to spile, but,” giving a glance full of pride at
Toinette, ‘the woman knows jest how long to stew ’em
first, jest how long to fry, and jest how to season, and
that’s the whole sense of cookin’, I reck’n. Why, along
four years ago up in Canada we was pushed for meat
onct, and Toinette she cooked up a fat young Porkipine
so you couldn’t ha’ told it from young lamb, — yes,
siree ! ”

“Didn’t you have an awful time picking the quills
out? They must be as thick as feathers on a chicken,”
said Nat.

“They only grow quills on their backs,” replied Nez,
“and you can take the whole skin off to onct without
prickin’ a finger, if you slit it and begin underneath.”

“Wasn’t it a great deal of trouble to take off all the
skins of the little fur beasts that are out in your shed ?
Dodo and I skinned two moles a while ago to make a
muff for her doll, but the skins tore even after we had
rubbed alum on them and waited two weeks for them
to dry. Mole skins don’t smell very good either, but
not so bad as Skunks.”

“It’s easy enough to skin fur beasts if you don’t
wait too long, but some things hereabouts, Squirrels for
instance, that have nice-lookin’ fur, are of no account,
because their skins are weak like your mole’s. T'll bring
in a few of to-day’s batch so you can look at ’em.”
176 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Uncle Roy,” asked Nat, as soon as Nez went out,
“why do the fourfoots smell so queerly, when birds do
not?”

“Some birds do,” said Rap. ‘Don’t you remember
the marsh where the Herons live ?”’

“The fourfoots all have odors that vary with each
species. Heart of Nature has a use for them like every-
thing else in his garden. Birds depend upon sight and
do not need the power of scent to guide them like the
fourfoots. These, though they all have voices and can
make sounds of pleasure or of warning, also need a silent
language by which to speak to one another, in order
that they may leave messages where absent friends can
find them in wood and runways, as House People use
written words. It is for this purpose that the power
of secreting these odors has been given the fourfoots.

“This arrangement has given these animals very keen
noses, upon which they depend far more than on their
eyes for recognizing either friends or enemies. It is
this power that enables every animal to tell whether the
beast who has gone over a trail before him is a friend
or a foe, and it also serves as a weapon of defence, for
some of the little Mammals taste so disagreeably that
their cannibal brothers do not care to eat them. You
know that the Skunk is as well able to protect himselt
from his big brothers by his odor as if he had the claws
and paws of a Grizzly Bear.”

“ Talkin’ uv Skunks, here’s a fine one,” said Nez,
coming in with half a dozen little animals in his arms,
and holding the Skunk by the tail at arm’s length.

“What are those others?” asked Rap, recognizing
some unfamiliar animals in the heap.




ComMoN SKUNK.
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 177

“ There’s a Mink, a Weasel, and, as luck turns, an
Otter. We don’t get many of them here, though they
rove about so I’m never surprised to see afew. I’ve
only found one of their coasts by the upper pond.”

“Coasts ! what do you mean?” asked Rap.

“Why, Otters are as fond of sliding down hill as you
are, and mud makes as good a coast for them as snow,
No, I’m not jokin’, am I, Doctor ?”

«What Nez says is perfectly true. Let me show
that Otter to the boys and I will explain.”

Nez picked up an animal that must have weighed
twenty pounds, with handsome rich, shaded brown fur,
and laid it on the floor by the Doctor. It was about
two feet and a half long from its blunt nose to the root
of its stout tapering tail. Its head was catlike, with
small round ears and bristly mustaches, its legs were
short and ended in furry, webbed feet with stout
claws.

“What lovely soft under-fur,” said Rap, parting the
long glossy outer hairs gently with one hand, “ and it’s
all over him, too, even on his tail.”

“This Otter has the most desirable, also the finest,
under-fur of almost any of our fourfoots,” said the Doc-
tor, ‘and like the Beaver and Muskrat he spends a
great deal of his time in and about the water.”

“Does living near the water have anything to do
with making his under-fur so thick?” asked Rap.

“Very probably it does, the soft close fur being made
to protect the body from becoming water soaked ; for
the Seal, who spends the greater part of his life in the
water, has the same wonderful, close under-coat, and the
rare Sea Otter also.”

N
178 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Where do these Otters live, what kind of nests do
they make, and do they belong to a guild?” asked Nat.

“They haunt wooded places near water ; sometimes
a mother Otter makes a home for her two or three
young ina hollow stump, or else in a hole under a bank,
scraping a few leaves together as a bed. It is always
within easy distance of the water, where the fish, upon
which they feed, can be caught, for they belong to the
guild of Flesh Eaters and like variety in their animal
food, sometimes helping themselves to chickens and
small game. They also have hiding-places in river
banks entered by a hole under the water.

“Otters when not busy hunting food are very play-
ful animals, and one of their chief games is what Nez
calls ‘coasting.’ In summer they choose a smooth
bank stretching toward the water and deliberately he







OTTER AND FISHER.
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 179

on their stomachs, spread out their hind legs, give a
push and slide down one after another, plunging into
the water at the end, only to land again at a suita-
ble spot, climb up hill and slide once more. You can
imagine that a slippery mud-covered coast is soon
formed, which is used by the Otter community. When
the snow is deep, they make similar coasts through it
down toward their feeding places, and they may then
be easily tracked when on their excursions about
home. :

“Then they don’t sleep the winter sleep?” said Rap.
‘How do they catch fish when the rivers freeze ?”

“They are on the watch all winter, like the other
members of the family of little fur bearers, or Mustelide,
as the Wise Men call them. They keep their fishing
holes open through the ice, and these holes, as well as
their slides, guide people in trapping them. One of
the most likely places to set a trap is in a slideway, or
fastened securely to a pole under the Otter’s favorite
fishing-hole.

“Why do they catch them with traps, when Nez
says it is so much trouble to bait them? Why isn’t it
easier to shoot them?” asked Nat.

“Jn the first place all these fur fourfoots prowl about
mostly after dark, and are very wild and so keen of
scent that it is difficult to get near them, while at best
a hunter would have to shoot them one by one, and
they might sink under the ice and be lost. If he uses
traps, he can set a dozen or more on a single afternoon
and leave them to do their own work in the night.
There is another reason, too, why it is not best to shoot
them. Can either of syou guess it?”
180 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Rap answered eagerly, “I think I know. It’s be-
cause the shot might make a great many holes in the
skin and spoil it.”

“Yes, that is the reason. Now please show us the
Skunk, Nez, and then he can go out in the shed and
join his fellows; his room will be much better than his
company.”

“J think the smell of it is making my head ache,”
said Nat.

“We will hurry,” said the Doctor, “ for this Common
Skunk is a very disagreeable animal in many ways.
You see, he isa full foot shorter than the Otter, and
though he has a tail as plumy as a fountain, glossy
black fur with white head and back bands, his face
is sly and narrow, wearing a snappish look, and people
say that a bite from his pointed teeth may carry hydro-
phobia with it.

“ He is a bold animal, too, and whether he goes to the
chicken house to choose his supper, or prowls around
the refuse pails outside some camp, he is not inclined
to hurry. Full well he knows the power of the blind-
ing, scalding liquid which is his weapon, and animals,
that could tear him to bits without the least trouble;
pretend not to see him and keep their distance. So
fearless are Skunks that a pair often take up their
abode under a barn or even a piazza, and the little
Skunks play about and are sometimes petted as harm-
less kittens by the children, until one day the illusion
is suddenly broken.”

“JT should think it would be better if they were all
killed out,” said Rap.

“Remember their fur, and that they earn their living

+






LITTLE STRIPED SKUNK.
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 18]

by eating mice and nuisance animals, as well as grass-
hoppers and other insects.”

“JT never heard of Skunk fur when I lived in the
city,” said Nat.

“No, but you have heard of Alaska Sable, which is
the name it uses when it puts away its evil odor and
goes in polite society.”

*“ You called this one the Common Skunk. Are there
any uncommon ones?” asked Rap.

“ There are quite a number of species, but they are
all common somewhere. The oddest of all is the Little
Striped Skunk who lives in the more southern parts of
the country, from Florida across to the Plains. He isa
weasel-shaped little piece of impudence, with a white
spot on his forehead, all the rest of his body and tail
plume being so striped that you can never say if he is
black and white or white and black, or both; he might
be a toy animal made of strips of black and white flan-
nel. Black and white is a rare combination for the coat
of afourfoot. None of our fourfoots are bright-colored,
and there are very few such in any country. Usually
the color of an animal is arranged to blend with his
surroundings and protect him from his enemies. Some-
times, however, Nature wishes to give an animal a strik-
ing coat that will be seen by others and warn them to
keep away from him, and the Skunks wear coats of this
kind. They prowl about chiefly at dusk or after dark.
Have you ever noticed how clearly anything white,
however small, shows at night?”

“Oh, yes, I have often,” said Rap. “In spring when
all the snow has gone, except little bits under the fences,
you can see it ever so far away, and sometimes when
182 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the fine handkerchiefs mother washes blow away down
the field, I can find them in the darkest night.”

“Then you can understand that the Skunk, who. is
sufficiently protected by his evil odor, may wear this
striped flag to warn other animals not to come upon
him too suddenly. Here, Nez, kindly take this fur-
covered sachet away; the boys will not forget how he
looks, I’m sure.”

“Skunks are full of play and tricks, if they do smell
a bit rank,” said Nez, as he returned, followed by Mr.
Blake. “I’ve kept young uns round camps where I’ve
been, and they’re good eatin’, too, if they are killed out-
right and skinned, — no, you needn’t whistle, Mr. Blake,
I’ve often broiled ’em like tender spring chickens. They
are stupid, too, and if you put a trap in the runway
from their holes to the water, they’ll be sure to get into
it, and seein’ one caught doesn’t prevent his neighbor
from walkin’ straight over him into another trap.”

“Do they stay out all winter like the Otters?” asked
Nat.

“ That depends on the place and the weather. About
here they keep lively right along, but further north
they may den up for a bit the coldest part of the sea-
son. But take these other two, the Weasel and Mink,
they are lively most of the time.”

“What an ugly-looking little beast a Weasel is,”
said Nat, taking the slender animal, which was about a
foot long, in his hand. “Rod caught ever so many
around the chicken house last summer, but they were
brown and not a sort of dirty white like this one, and
it has a black tip to its tail. Do they moult out in
autumn, Nez?”
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 1838

“TJ reckon they do, for they get whitish all the same
as the Northern Hare, and when they are real white
folks calls ’em Ermines. When they come from far
north countries, where it is cold enough to make them
a good clear white, they are worth a lot of money for
their fur. But down here they’re no good. This one
strayed into a trap I set for Mink; it’s one of their
bothersome tricks to push themselves into the place of





WEASEL OR ERMINE IN WINTER DRESS.

their betters. See, this fur is a mussy color, and fur-
ther south they don’t change hardly any.”

“Rod says Weasels are very bad things and no better
than rats.”

“They are much worse than rats,” said the Doctor.
“Tn fact, they are the most malicious, blood-thirsty, and
wasteful of all our fourfoots. They are all the time
breaking Heart of Nature’s law, ‘Take what ye need
for food,’ killing merely for the pleasure of it, and

?
184 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

only taking a suck of blood here and a bite of flesh
there.

“The Weasel twists and winds its supple body into
holes where nothing but a snake could follow, now
writhing along as if it had no legs, then stretching its
neck and peering round with the wagging head and
wicked eyes of a Cobra. He devours mice, and sharp-
toothed rats trenible before him. If he could learn to
forsake bird-nesting and chicken-killing and wreak his
love of slaughter on the ‘nuisance animals,’ he might
easily cease being the worst of nuisances himself.”

“This Mink looks a good deal like the Weasel,” said
Rap, “except that it is longer and not half so snaky.
It is a nice brown, too, like mother’s muff that father
brought her from New York long ago when I was a
baby, and that she keeps done up in his silk handker-
chief in a bandbox.”

“Tt doesn’t smell very nicely,” said Nat, “though not
so badly as the Skunk. Is it a fierce, wicked beast,
too?”

“For steady-goin’ mischief the Mink is only about
two steps behind the Weasel,” broke in Nez. “The
Weasel is freaky ; he’ll do a lot of mischief in one
place, and then take himself off for a long spell; but
the Mink noses out a fine hen roost and then settles
down under a shed near by to enjoy himself.”

“Tf it’s in May,” added the Doctor, “half a dozen
little Minks, hairless and blind at first, may be hidden
in the feather-lined nest, and many a choice morsel will
be brought them before they are fully grown in au-
tumn, and leave their mother to start life for them-
selves. Day and night Minks go hunting and fishing
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 185











THE MINK.

too, sometimes catching animals twice their own size ;
now a Muskrat, then a Hare, a Grouse, or a fine Trout,
for the Mink is as much at home in the water as a
Muskrat, swimming and diving easily. “Thus we find
him everywhere, not only in all the temperate parts of
the country, but in all sorts of places, from the banks
of lonely watercourses to a burrow under the cow
barn.”

“Tt seems very queer that mother’s muff once went
sneaking and tramping all over the country,” said
Rap.

“If Dodo knew about Minks, and how savage they
are, I’m sure she would be afraid of her little tippet
with the head and claws. I never thought before how
186 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

all our fur things, caps and mittens and gloves, once
walked about. I wish they could tell us stories about
themselves.”

“JT know a story a sealskin jacket told me once upon
a time,” said Olaf, who had been sitting quietly by the
fire smoking his pipe.

“A real true story, and will you tell it to us some
day?”

“Surely, yes, and some day soon, for it is a winter
story.”

“Come, don’t go floating up the Pacific to the fur
islands after Seals yet awhile,” said the Doctor. “ There
is one more important fur beast, almost as large as the
Otter, but it is not found as far south as here. He
loves the dark pine forests that furnish him good shel-
ter, as well as a playground, for he spends most of his
time in the trees, even making his nest in a tree hole
in preference to the ground.”

‘What is he called?” asked Rap. “Is there a pict-
ure of one at home?”

“Yes, and you will find that he looks something like
a cat, and something like a Fox. In the woods and in
books his name is Pine Marten, or American Sable.
When he is turned into muffs and collars, he has a
grander name yet, — Hudson’s Bay Sable. He has a
very handsome coat, and, like most of his tribe, the fur
is finest at the beginning of winter. He has not only
under-fur, but two kinds of outer as well, and his back
~ is a handsome mellow shade of brown, in contrast to his
dark tail, which is especially valuable.”

“Ts the Pine Marten a chicken thief, too, like the
Weasel and -Mink?” asked Rap.




MARTEN AND RED SQUIRREL.
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 187

“T dare say he would eat chickens if they came in his
way, but he does not care to stay about farms, and
lives on Squirrels, birds, and many of the smaller
nuisance animals, and when driven to it he will eat
even beechnuts.”

“My, though ! if those Martins ain’t got tempers!”
said Nez. ‘And don’t they jest fight fierce when
once they start! I saw one kill a Rabbit; it wasn’t
satisfied with killin’, but went on and tore and clawed
and chawed it all to bits.

“You should see ‘em try to ketch Squirrels,” he con-
tinued. “Martins likes to git up in a tree and drop
down suddent on their prey. That evenin’ a nice, big
Red Squirrel was setting on a pine branch with his
back to the tree, takin’ a nap, though I suspect he was
more awake than he seemed. Along comes the Martin
down from the tree-top, peerin’ this way and _ that,
lookin’ to make an easy drop. There wuz a branch
crosswise above the Squirrel and the Martin he couldn’
manage the jump anyhow. ‘Then he began to spit and
cuss and snarl like mad, but the Squirrel never budged.
He stopped still until the Martin went over to try
another side, then opened his eyes, gave a big jump,
and was off chatterin’ like a watchman’s rattle.

“There’s another Martin I’ve trapped out in the
Northwest, that’s every bit as big as an Otter and
swims and fishes like one, for which reason some folks
calls it a Fisher, and some a Black Cat Martin, though
they are as much gray as black, and their legs and tails
are brown, and they looks something like a little, lanky,
long-tailed Bear. This Fisher will eat any mortal thing,
from one of its own family to a snake or a Porkipine.
188 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

How it manages to kill that I never could see, though
I found quills stuck all over a Fisher inside and out.”

“ People who know, say the Fisher has the knack of
killing the Porcupine by biting him in the stomach,
where he is poorly protected,” said the Doctor. “I
think he is quite clever enough to do this, for he man-
ages to take the bait out of almost any trap, as you and
Olaf must know by experience, and hides his nest high
up in a tree hollow as wisely as an owl.”

“Vor stealin’ bait and traps, or makin’ a general
“rumpus, I recommend the Wolf Martin!” said Nez,
with feeling.

“I suppose you mean the Wolverine, or Glutton,
names he gets for his fierceness and supposed endless
appetite,” said the Doctor.

“That’s he every time,” said Nez, striking his fist
on his knee. “If yer can pack more wickedness and
real thinkin’ mischief into a beast not over three feet
long, with paws and claws like a Bear, and a face like
a Bear, a Fox, and a Wolf all mixed into one, show me
that beast !”

“What kind of fur does he wear?” asked Nat.

“ Brown, of as many different shades as the mottles
on a horse-chestnut,” said the Doctor ; “the under-fur
being short and very soft, and the outer about four
inches long, wiry and shaggy. The soles of his feet
even are so hairy that the footprints look almost like
those of small Bears.” ;

“Why do you call him such a wicked beast, Nez?”
asked Rap.

« Well, I reckon I’ve good reason. In the first place
he kills anything that comes along, from a mouse up
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 189

to a Deer that’s been wounded or gone lame. He gets
most of his game by sneakin’ or droppin’ on it, for he
isn’t a fast runner. But what’s worst about him is,
he’s the biggest meddler on four legs. If a pair of ’em
gits around camp when the men are off, good-by to the
outfit. Fust they'll eat everything they can hold, then
they'll amuse themselves by clawin’ the rest or carryin’









WOLVERINE.

things away and scatterin’ em. As trap spoilers they
beats the record, —deadfalls or spring traps are all
the same, they’ll get the bait without being caught, and
most likely spoil the trap beside.”

“What is a deadfall?” asked Nat.

“A kind of a trap that is often made by digging a
hole and putting bait in and then covering it up with
sticks and logs, so when the beast you want to catch,
smells the bait and hunts for it, he falls into the trap,
190 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

or the log falls and shuts him in; they are used for all
sorts of beasts from Martens to Bears,” said the Doctor.

“Ah, I see!
into you die. Do House People ever fall into these
things?”

“Yes, sometimes, unfortunately, and in his knack at
keeping out of danger this Wolverine shows even more
ingenuity than man himself.”

“You have no Coons now? Tm sorry, I wanted Nat
to see one so he would recognize it if he should come

“across it in the home woods.”

“Nez! uncle! daddy! Look quick, one of the
beasts has come to life and has climbed up that beam
by the chimney,” whispered Nat, suddenly jumping up
and getting behind his father.

“Speaking of Coons, there is one now,” said the
Doctor. “Is that a camp pet or a visitor from the
woods ?”

“He’s a pet,” said Nez. “He belongs to Dom’nik
and the Fox to Phonse; we took him last May from an
old tree over by the pit, when we were cuttin’ poplars
for charcoal. Keep still and maybe he’ll come down
and play with Foxey — he does sometimes.”

The boys watched quietly for a few minutes. At
first the Coon, or Raccoon as he is really named, sat up
with his paws folded like hairy hands and watched
them. He was about two feet and a half high, his
body was covered with wonderfully soft, deep, brindled
Woodchuck-colored fur, and the round tail that hung
nearly a foot below the beam was banded with gray
and black. His bright eyes and pointed face wore an
expression of innocence, and yet of great intelligence

>
NEZ LONG’S MENAGERIE 191

also, that closely resembled the Fox’s who was sitting
under the table looking up at him.

Presently Mr. Coon came deliberately down to the
floor, ambled on all fours to the table with the awkward
gait of his big cousin, the Bear, climbed on top and
began tasting the various scraps of food that remained,
using his fore paws exactly like hands.

The Fox came from under the table and sat up on
the broad bench sniffing anxiously. The Coon paid no
attention to him, but picked up a piece of bread, jumped
off the table, dipped the bread in the water pail, ate it,
took a scrap of meat, washed it also and then gave it to
the Fox, with all the quickness and intelligence of a
monkey, and then began washing more bread for him-
self.

The boys could keep quiet no longer.

“Why does he wash the bread?” asked Nat aloud.

At this the Coon retired to his beam, pushing the
last bit of bread into his mouth with one paw.

“Washing their food is a great habit of Raccoons,”
said Mr. Blake. “T’ve seen hundreds of them down
about the southern lagoons, and they bathe and swim
and paddle about the water, poking under stones for
crayfish, mussels, and little crabs, half the night. In
fact, the last half of the Latin name the Wise Men give
them, lotor, refers to this washing habit of theirs.

“You should see them scampering round by moon-
light, like a parcel of monkeys at play. Down they
come from the high trees where they have their nest
holes, splashing over the lily pads and sliding into the
water. They are fond of everything eatable, from crabs
to sweet corn, and often fall victims to this love of the
192 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

cornfields. An autumn Coon hunt was one of the
events of the year on the old plantations, and it is not
yet out of style.”

“Mammy Bun says Coon hunting is fine sport,” in-
terrupted Nat. ‘She says the men go out with dogs
and axes and chase the Coons, and they generally run
up a tree, and then if the men can’t shake the Coon out
of the tree, they cut it down and let the dogs fight the
Coon and shake it to death. JI think that is a cruel
way to kill such a pretty fourfoot.”

“T quite agree with you,” said the Doctor; “it is
even more unnecessary than allowing the Fox to be
torn to bits after he has run his best; for though the
Coon is very bright in some ways, he can be easily
trapped and the Fox cannot.”

“Every one is sleepy,” said Rap, presently ; “the
Coon has gone to sleep, and the Fox too, all curled up
like a dog, and Olaf will nod himself into the fire in
another minute.”

“JT think you and Nat had better climb into your
bunk in the corner and join them in dreamland,” said
the Doctor. “ You see Toinette and the little boys have
disappeared under their blankets in the other room.”

“The snow has stopped falling and the wind is drift-
ing it around at a great rate,” said Mr. Blake, opening
the door as he spoke, when a great whirl of snowflakes,
like the branch of a fairy tree, slipped past him into the
cabin and turned to drops of water on the boards.
“ Suppose we take a mouthful of air before we turn in.
Nez, we will go with you to put the Fox and the Coon
in their pens, and see if your fur shop is safe.”


frnest

elon Themptt





THE RAccoon.


NEZ LONG'S MENAGERIE 193

“We can’t undress very much,” said Nat, beginning
and ending by taking off his shoes, ‘so it will be real
easy dressing in the morning, and I want to see the
Porcupine that is over in the shed the first thing.
Don’t go to sleep yet, Rap, 1 won’t be a minute.” Rap,
however, was asleep the moment he sank between the
new red blankets, —a present from Mrs. Blake to Toi-
nette, —that covered the armful of hemlock branches
that served as a mattress.

The men came back, went to bed and to sleep, and
soon the wind outside was the only sound, while occa-
sional flashes from the smouldering log fire kept the
cabin cheerfully light.

For some strange reason Nat could not sleep; he
dozed a dozen times; then the wind whistled between
the logs of the cabin and he started up again. Once he
saw a couple of mice chasing each other about the
hearth, then a shadow moved along the roof timbers.
Was it the Coon? No, for both Coon and Fox had
been taken to their sleeping-quarters in the shed.

Nat looked again; the shadow grew deeper, took a
solid form, and dropped to tlie floor. An extra bright
flash from the fire showed him what looked like a
bundle of some white-tipped fur. The mysterious
thing was nothing more nor less than an animal—a
Porcupine! He could see its eyes glitter as it moved
awkwardly across the floor to the very corner where
he was lying.

oO
XIV

FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES




EERING out and very much frightened,
2 at first Nat was going to call, then he
thought that perhaps he might startle
the Porcupine and make him angry,
so he staid quite still waiting to see
what would happen. Everything was
painfully quiet; why did not one of the
others wake up? Even a snore would have
sounded companionable.

The Porcupine ambled toward the bunk, but
oc by one of the posts that supported it and began
to gnaw with his strong, sharp-cutting teeth. Next he
sampled all four legs of the table, then went to the
water pail; he seemed to scent the tracks of the Coon
and Fox and crouched in a heap with his quills bristling
on his back and his tail ready to strike. Finding that
he was not disturbed, he began walking about again,
finally climbing up to a log that ran across the face of
the chimney, quite near the roof.

In spite of feeling a trifle afraid, Nat could not help
noticing how easily the Porcupine climbed and swung
himself about, but when the animal had settled himself
comfortably on the beam, something happened that was »
so strange that Nat first rubbed his eyes to be sure that
104
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 195
he was really awake, and then managed to wake Rap
to share in his astonishment. The Porcupine was
singing !1

“ What is it, and where did it come from?” whispered
Rap, only dimly conscious of where he was.

Nat whispered back all he knew of the matter.

“Tt must be the tame Porcupine from the shed that
crept out when Nez went to put back the Fox and the
Coon,” said Rap, who was quick to draw conclusions,
“go J don’t think he’ll hurt us; but I never knew be-
fore that they could sing like that !”

The Porcupine’s song was indeed very strange. At
first it sounded like a particularly happy tea kettle,
abrim with boiling water; then it began to rise and
fall, having some quite musical notes, finally dying
away, blending with the whistling of the wind.

By this time somebody stirred in the opposite corner.
Nez tumbled up, with the instinct of a woodsman, to
put more wood on the fire, so that Nat ventured to call
his father.

“ A Porcupine! Nonsense! Where?” shouted Mr.
Blake, not over willing to come out of his blankets.

“The stories in your head and the fried Squirrel in
your stomach have made a plan between them to give
you some dreams!”

“Really no, daddy, Rap is awake and has seen it too,
and we've heard it sing. Oh, be careful, it’s coming
down again! ”

Every one was awake now. ‘Toinette and the little
boys peeped in from their part of the cabin, Nez lighted

1The author is indebted to Mr. Abbott H. Thayer and Dr. E. A.
Mearns for information regarding-the habits of Porcupines.
196 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

a lantern, the Doctor began pulling on his boots, while
Olaf took a long pole belonging to an eel spear from
the corner.

“ What are you going to do, kill him?” asked Rap.
“Oh, now he’s up on the table !”

“No, put him in this bag,” said Nez, taking an old
meal sack from under his bunk. ‘The only way to
catch one of these critters alive without wishin’ him
dead is to poke him off somewhere into something.
So” — Serateh, Push, and after a short struggle the dis-
turber, making queer faces all the while, was securely
bagged and the cabin retired to sleep again, while the
Porcupine spent the night under the table, too much
disgusted by the small size of his quarters to give
another concert.

It was still dark the next morning when the boys
smelled coffee boiling. Other things beside the early
hour contributed to the darkness, — the windows were
small and few at best, and the panes were turned into
ground glass by the heavy coating of frost. The pail of
cold water did not make bathing seem attractive to Nat,
who edged away from it, saying that he had not brought
a sponge; but Rap, who was used to rough living, dipped
his face in the water, shook off the big drops, and
polished it with his handkerchief.

“JT don’t believe my hands will be clean for a month,”
said Nat, looking at his red, chapped, grimy paws.

“Jt’s fun camping for a little while, but beds with
sheets are so comfortable, and Rap,— don’t you think
in winter camping is pretty smelly ?”

“Yes, I suppose it is; but then you know real camp-
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 197

ing in wild places is different from playing at it as we
do; those people work all day and are too sleepy at
night to notice smells. Nez is so busy all day long
out in the cold, that when he comes in he’s too sleepy to
bother about little things. Toinette cooks things A 1
anyway. I wonder what we are going to have for
breakfast ? Something that’s fried in a big pan of fat.
Do you suppose it’s doughnuts ?”

“ You supposed right,” said Nat a few minutes later,
as Nez called them to the table, where there was a flat
willow basket piled high with the puffy brown balls.
Here comes ham, too, with funny lumpy sauce poured
over it. I wonder what it is?”

“Sauce of ze chestnut, vary fine, m’sieurs; ze sauce
of my countree. I mak also ze dish of ze countree of
ma ’usband— ze doonut, but zat ting of his countree,
ze pi, I mak not, bah! Shall it kill de red from the
cheek de mes gargons? J name it not wiz ze pate of
ma countree whose top it shall fly away vile you
bite.”

The Doctor laughed heartily at Toinette’s dislike of
pie, saying: “ You are right, Toinette, pie is very poor
food for little boys; but I have hard work to make Nat
think so. Though Ido not believe in doughnuts for
breakfast, yours are so light and free from grease that
you must not expect to have one left.”

“ Ah, you are vary polite to zay it,” replied Toinette,
blushing and pouring a sort of porridge into the bowls
that stood at the children’s places. “ Zis is ze plumb
potage of Féte de Néel, but we did have it on ze féte
day of ma ’usband’s countree —ze T’anksgiving.”

Nat and Rap were soon fishing the big raisins out


198 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

of the hot porridge with their spoons, as eagerly as
Dominique and Phonse.

“Tsn’t it good?” said Rap, as he neared the bottom
of the bowl. “Scrape, scrape, scrape,” said Nat’s
spoon for answer.

The boys were very much disappointed at the con-
dition of the snow that morning. The wind had blown
all night and drifted it so badly that the hills were
quite bare, and coasting was impossible, while some of
the little hollows were full.

“In my day coasting never amounted to anything
before Christmas,” said the Doctor; “these early snow
flurries seldom lie evenly. One thing, Nat, if Nez will
lend you a pair of snow-shoes and show you how to use
them, you can practise nicely down there at the foot of
the slope.”

“T should think I could walk on them without being
taught how,” said Nat. “The snow-shoes Toinette
showed me yesterday looked something like tennis
rackets with toe loops and ankle-ties to keep them on.
Sliding along with them would be just as easy as any-
thing.”

“So you think. If you succeed in walking ten steps
on them to-day, you shall have a pair of your own. We
seldom have snow, down at the farm, deep enough to
make such things necessary, though you might find
them useful in going to school some morning after a
storm before the roads are broken,” said Mr. Blake,
looking at the Doctor with a twinkle in his eye, which
however Nat did not notice.

Soon they went out to the shed to have a more par-
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 199

ticular view of Nez Menagerie, and look at Nat’s Fox,
which was to be skinned for him to take home.

“JT wonder if the tame Fox knows that the old Fox
may be one of his relations, perhaps his grandfather ?”
said: Rap, as the little beauty sniffed about the skin
that Nez was peeling off as neatly as a glove turned
wrong side out.

“J should not be surprised at anything a Fox may
know,” said the Doctor, “for in spite of the fact that
they are continually hunted, they still manage to out-
wit House People, and increase and live even about our
hen houses. This little Fox evidently recognizes one
of his own family. I even fancy I can see a look of
recognition in his eyes as he sniffs.”

“ Which do you think are the very cleverest Ameri-
can fourfoots?” asked Rap.

“The Beaver has a very special sort of intelligence
in the way of building his home, damming up the water
necessary to protect it and in storing up food; but for
pure wit and cunning I think the dog family, or
Canide, must be given first place.”

“The dog family! I didn’t know there were any real
American dogs,” said Nat.

“ Wolves, Foxes, and the Coyote of the plains are
first cousins of the dogs we keep as companions.
Don’t you know that we have called our big dog Mr.
Wolf because he is about the size and the shape,
though not the color, of the Timber Wolf?”

“These Red Foxes look like dear little collie dogs,
except that their tails are rounder,” said Rap.

“You have often watched Mr. Wolf and Quick go
hunting together, starting off as if they had a regular
200 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

plan of campaign, working to and fro on a scent they
have found, galloping, sneaking, and finally stalking
their game?”

“Oh, yes!” cried Nat, “I’ve often seen them, and
then when they come back if it’s a Woodchuck or a
Muskrat or a Skunk they have caught, Mr. Wolf brings
it up to the back door and they both bark and bark
until some one comes and tells them how clever they
are. If their noses are much bitten, as they mostly are
when they’ve caught a Woodchuck, they wait for Olive
to put vaseline on them. Just plain vaseline; they
don’t like the kind with the carbolic smell, that you
put on our hands when they are scratched; it makes
them sneeze and cough and rub their noses in the grass.
I wonder why?”

“ Because the members of the dog family have such
a keen sense of smell that every odor seems many times
more powerful to them than to us. This is the reason
that the Fox can smell the scent of human fingers on
the trap set for him unless it is dipped in water, or
smeared with the blood of a fowl, or some other means
is taken to divert him, and even then he may have sus-
picions.”

“T should think baby Foxes would be very pretty,”
said Rap. ‘ What time of the year are they born? I
mean to look for some next season.”

“They are born hereabout in March or April. In
May, when I was a boy, I used often to see half a dozen
of these bright, sharp-nosed little pups playing about
the entrance to their earth burrow, or creeping along
the rocky ledge or at the base of the hollow tree that
was home tothem. But mamma was always sure to be
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 201

near to warn them of danger, and they obeyed whatever
signal she gave them and disappeared as quickly as the
little grouse hide under the leaves.”

“Are there as many kinds of Foxes as there are
Rabbits, or only one kind?” asked Nat.

“There are about ten different kinds, or species, as
the Wise Men say (I wish you to remember the word).
Some of them are really the same animal, who wears
somewhat different fur, according to the place where
he lives. Take this Fox of Nat’s for example. We
call him the Red Fox, being in Latin Vulpes fulvus.?
You see, he has a coat of rust color and yellow. He
has two half brothers; one called the Cross Fox, not
because he has a bad temper, but because his color is
partly red and yellow and partly ashy brown, which
makes a cross mark on his shoulders. He is also related
to another half brother of our Red Fox, the Black or
Silver Fox, whose coat varies from dark gray to black
with a sprinkling of white-tipped hairs and a white tail
tip. This condition of fur is prized because it is so
very rare, and as much as one or two hundred dollars
has been paid for a single skin. No one but the very
Wise Men can tell these brothers apart half the time,
and even one of the wisest of these calls our common
animal the Red-Cross-Silver-Black Fox.”

“Oh, dear, what a lot to remember, and after all, that
is only one kind, — species, I mean.”

“There are a couple of others, very distinct varieties
that you can easily remember, — the Gray Fox and the
beautiful white Arctic Fox of the Polar regions.

“The Gray is the common Fox of the southern parts

1See plate, page 158.
202 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

of the country from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Its fur
on the back is a ‘ pepper-and-salt’ gray with a red and
white wash on the throat, sides of neck, sides of body
and legs. Its head is broad, and it is neither as graceful
nor as finely furredas the Red Fox. This Gray Fox isa
more snarling, disagreeable beast than his red brother,
but. does not seem to bea blood-thirsty hunter, and kills
merely what he needs for food. Though he is fond of
grouse, chickens, Rabbits, and the eggs and young of
game birds and domestic fowls alike, he also eats
Meadow Mice and several kinds of rats, which habit
should be set down for a good mark beside his name.

“The Gray Fox can climb well, for he has strong
curved nails that stick out beyond the furred toes, so
he often escapes from his enemies by going up trees
that may be quite branchless for twenty or thirty feet.
He also prefers a hollow log or tree to an earth burrow
as a nest for his puppies, which are not as numerous or
as pretty as those of our Red Fox.”

“T can remember about that,” said Nat. “The Gray
Fox belongs to the south ; our Red-Cross-Silver-Black
Fox to the middle and not too far north, and then
there is a white one for the very far north.”

“ Yes, the Arctic Fox, who lives as near to the never-
found North Pole as men have been able to go.

“He is bundled up and dressed in the very best style
for an Arctic explorer, and for this reason he looks
more like a cur dog, and has not the dapper, thorough-
bred appearance of his sleek red cousin. This Arctic
Fox has a bunchy body with short, round, fur-lined
ears, and ruffs of fur which give his face a catlike
expression. Summer and winter his coat is white,


ArcTiIc Fox,
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 208

but by August the under-fur begins to thicken, and
when this Fox wears his heavy winter coat and is all
white, with the exception of his light brown eyes, black
nose, and brown claws, he is indeed a beautiful animal.
The under-fur is soft and thick, even the soles of the
feet being well padded to give their owners a firm foot-
ing in travelling on ice, as well as for warmth. The
tail is short and very bushy, while the longer fur is
thicker on the back than underneath.”

“ What does this Fox eat ’way up there, and does he

-make a home burrow in the snow?” asked Nat. “I
should think he would be awfully wild, and he must
work very hard for a living.”

“There are no hen roosts to rob, but you must not
forget the Arctic breeding birds and the Polar Hares.
Many an anxious day this white Fox must give the
Snowflake in its lowly nest, while the Eider Duck and
Great Snow Goose must think this four-footed snow-
drift a veritable spirit of evil. The little ground-
burrowing Lemming also helps to fill up the chinks in
Mr. Fox’s stomach. Then there are the bits of flesh
and fat that the Polar Bear leaves behind when he has
captured a fat Seal, and fish are to be had for the
catching or often the picking up. In such a place
the Fox does not have to look for a refrigerator in
which to stow away spare scraps for the next meal.
I’ve often wondered how he manages to get his meat
into the over-ripe state that all the dog family consider
so delicious.”

“Please, uncle,” interrupted Nat, “why do dogs like
spoiled meat so much better than fresh? Quick always
rolls and rubs his head on any old fish or dead bird he
204 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

finds, and Olive has to keep: two collars for him ; as she
says, ‘one to wear and one to air.’”

“Tt is an unsettled question why this rolling is done ;
but it isa fact that the dog family, with a few excep-
tions, are as fond of rolling. in carrion as a cat is of
catnip. The Arctic Fox is more clean and particular
than his cousins, perhaps because he has less chance of
having spoiled meat left on his hands, and his odor is
far less disagreeable than that of the Red Fox.

“The Arctic Foxes live in burrows between earth
and rocks,” continued the Doctor, “very much like
their more southern cousins; but instead of being wilder
they are much less sly and suspicious than other Foxes.
It is easy to see the reason of this. They live beyond
the usual reach of civilized man, and the Eskimo who
hunts them seldom uses firearms, so these Foxes stop
to look at pursuers or bark at them from the doors of
their dens very much like half-wild dogs. They fall
into the simplest kinds of traps and count their worst
enemies the Polar Bear and ever-hungry Wolf, who
vie with them in hardiness. Then, too, they enjoy the
safety of color protection, —snow-white fur to blend
with the snow itself.”

“Talking of Foxes,” said Mr. Blake, coming across
the shed where he had been helping Nez fold the Fox
skin, fur in, so that it could be carried back to the farm
to be cured, “do you know how Foxes defend them-
selves when they fight each other ?”

“No,” said Rap, “unless they bite and scratch!”

“They stand at a little distance apart growling and
snapping ; when one springs, the other brings round
his bushy tail to act like a shield to his head and throat,
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 205

so that all that his adversary gets is a mouthful of
fur.”

“Tsn’t that clever! Have you ever seen them do it,
daddy ?” said Nat.

“No, but a friend of mine——the man who made all
the pictures in your uncle’s portfolio and knows so
much of the ways of this family of Wolves and Foxes
that he is called ‘ Wolf’ by his friends— says it is so.”

“ You know,” said the Doctor, “I told you long ago
that every animal has something that serves either as a
tool or a weapon, and if you listen to all there is to
hear about the tails of our fourfoots, you will find that
they are even more useful than ornamental. The big
tail, or brush, of the Fox, as hunters call the prize they
seek, may be a trap to catch burrs and a dead weight
to carry when it is water soaked; but you see it is a
shield both in battle and to keep paws and nose warm
during winter naps.”

“Can Foxes swim?” asked Nat.

“As easily as dogs,” said Mr. Blake. “I know a
story about a very clever Fox, whose fur, one summer,
was full of fleas who bit him so cruelly that he went in
swimming to cool himself. The fleas, not wishing to
be drowned, climbed up on his head, which was the
only dry part of him.

“The Fox felt very comfortable for a while, but
when he went ashore and shook himself dry, the fleas
quickly went back to their old hiding-places. This
bothered the Fox a good deal, and he thought about
the matter for a great many days, when he lay in his
den hiding from the bright light, in which you know
very few of our fourfoots care to be seen.
206 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“¢T have it!’ he said to himself. That night there
was a full moon. The Fox went down to the river
where the light came in beautiful silver stripes between
the trees. He pulled several bunches of old, worn fur
from his tail, and made them into a ball which he held
between his front teeth, so that the fur rested against
the end of his nose, then he walked slowly and care-
fully into the water and began swimming up and down.

“Soon the fleas collected on top of his head, as usual.
Then he let himself sink lower and lower until only the
tip of his nose and the ball of hair remained dry; the
fleas crawled to his very nose tip. When he drew that
under water also, they took refuge in the ball of fur.
Quick as a flash the Fox let go the ball, and, diving,
swam back to shore, where he stood laughing as the ball
became water soaked and the fleas were drowned ! ”

“Oh, daddy, is that a real true story? Did your
Wolf friend tell it to you?”

“JT don’t remember that he did, but until we meet
the clever Fox who drowned the fleas, and hear what
he has to say about it, no one can prove the story
untrue.”

“Jf you reckon on tryin’ these snow-shoes, you had
better come down in the holler before it gits any
softer,” said Nez, bringing out the shoes. This par-
ticular pair was very simple, made of a hickory strip,
bent in an oblong until the ends met. These ends were
fastened firmly together, and bridged in the centre by
a cross-piece. This frame, which really looked some-
thing between a lacrosse bat and a tennis racquet, was
latticed with strips of rawhide cut thinner than shoe
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 207

laces. In front of the cross-bar was a little opening,
to let the toes move when the foot was fastened to the
bar, by slipping through a stirrup-like loop. These
shoes were a trifle less than four feet long, and a foot
and a half across at the broadest part.

“You stick to the regular model, I see,” said the
Doctor.

“Yes, I do; the mighty long ones and the round
ones may have their uses in places and spots, but I
don’t want none of ’em,” said Nez.

On arriving at the hollow, Nez slipped his feet into
the loops, and went across the drift with slow, even
strides, swinging one foot over and past the other, his
hands in his pockets, his body bending slightly for-
ward. The boys were surprised to see that the shoes
sunk several inches into the snow.

“I thought they would help you keep on top,” said
Nat; “I don’t think they are much better than boots.”

“ For a small snow like this, they are not,” said Olaf,
who had come up from the direction of the river.
“But fancy to yourself a’snow eight feet deep or ten,
without a crust to hold you up. How should one walk
on it? At the first step one sinks, at the second one
would fall and smother. With snow-shoes one may go
on, sinking but a little, and if many men walk one after
the other, soon a good trail is made. Beneath this trail
may be the frozen sea or the deep ravine, but the snow-
shoe will not let the wearer sink to it. The snow-shoe
means food and life in the far northlands. There Nat-
ure gives it to the fourfoots themselves — from the fur
foot-pad of the Fox to the widening hoof of the
Caribou.”
208 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Meanwhile Nez walked across several times in the
same tracks, to make an easier path for Nat, who was
impatient to try his. luck.

‘Now be careful,” called Mr. Blake and the Doctor
together, as Nat balanced himself on the shoes, feeling
that his feet were unnaturally far apart. One step,
another, and Nat’s feet had collided, his left shoe step-
ping on the heel of the right, making him nearly turn a
somersault and land head down in the snow, gasping
and struggling.

The party laughed heartily, for Nat had been so very
confident of success.

“Tf that were big snow he were lost!” said Olaf.
“Tf you feel to slip, stoop down, that you do not come
off, so—” and Olaf squatted to show his meaning.
~ Nat was picked up and tried again, but this time he
spread his legs so far apart to keep from interfering
‘that he could not bring them together again, and stood
still laughing, his arms crossed to keep him from sprawl-
ing, as if he were a model for a fancy letter A.

“Never mind,” said the Doctor, “you will learn by
practice if we have much snow this winter, for I am
going to ask Nez and Olaf if, between them, they can-
not rig us up half a dozen pairs of snow-shoes, so that
all the household at the farm can have walks over the
fields when the roads are choked and impassable.”

“ How jolly!” cried Nat, and then stopped as he saw
the wistful look on Rap’s face and remembered that
snow-shoes would be of no use to him.

‘““We must have one of those flat toboggan sleds, too,
unele,” he added quickly, smiling at Rap, “and then we
can take turns in dragging Dodo and mother, for they
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 209

would be sure to be tired, and Rap can ride on it, too,
whenever he wants to come.”

“I’m glad to have you introduced to snow-shoes,”
said Mr. Blake, “because they hold an important part
in the life-history and hunting of some of our biggest
game, as well as furnish the ‘reason why’ some of our
noblest animals, like the Moose, are following the
Buffalo to the Happy Hunting Grounds.”

Olaf, Nez, Toinette’s brother, and the Doctor were
talking earnestly together as Mr. Blake turned toward
them, and the boys heard the words, “ deer,” ‘‘sharp
tracks,” “fine buck,” “last night,” ending with Nez’
usual exclamation of surprise, “ Want to know !”

“Jacque has seen a Deer two miles below here,”
said Olaf, “in a cleared bit in the woods. He saw
him in the snow last night, but was not quite sure
because of the drift. Early to-day he saw the sure
prints, and later the Deer himself Drom with two
does, where the wind had bared the grass.’

“Deer were plenty all along here and over towar d
the farm in my father’s day,” said the Doctor; “it will
be wonderful if they are straying back again from
some overcrowded feeding ground.”

“Perhaps they have run away from a Menagerie,”
suggested Nat.

“T think not,” said the Doctor; “it is evidently a
little family party starting off to explore for itself.
At any rate we will not welcome them with bullets in
the usual fashion, but after making sure of their where-
abouts leave them in peace.”

““Who knows, Nez, but we may be able to turn your
bit of woods here into a place for preserving and pro-

P
210 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

tecting some of our fourfoots, and make you chief
gamekeeper and forester general.”

“Tm willin’, Doc, but I must get a peep at ’em to
make sure,” said Nez, his sporting blood throbbing.

“Yes,” added Olaf, “we will go down this afternoon
to make sure that the Dream Fox has not been showing
his picture book to the good Jacque.”

“Tf you will keep me, I will stay and go with you;
I must,” said Mr. Blake, capering about as gleefully as
Nat or Dodo when they suspected a surprise.

“T shall take the others to the Ridge then and come
back and wait here one, two, three days more then, until
you are ready,” said Olaf, looking pleased.

“Which reminds me that we must be starting home-
ward in less than an hour,” said the Doctor, looking at
his watch.

“Oh, I want to see the Deer too!” cried Nat.

“Sorry to say no to anything so tempting; but I
promised to bring you both safely back to your mothers
to-night. Who knows, however,” said the Doctor,
cheerfully, “but these same Deer may stray over to the
farm woods and make a visit !”

They went back to the cabin. for early dinner and
to say “good-by” to Toinette and the boys and make
them promise to return the visit by coming to the
Christmas party at the farm. They found the boys
waiting with a stout bag between them, in which was
something that moved about a great deal.

“What have you there —the Porcupine?” asked
the Doctor.

“ Billy Coon,” replied Phonse, plucking up courage
to speak.
FOXES AND SNOW-SHOES 211

“They make a gift to you of the Coon to be your
amt, your friend, to take @ la maison, to your ’ouse,”
explained Toinette.

The boys were delighted, of course. “Mammy Bun
will think we have brought her an old friend; but ’m
not sure what your mother and the dogs will say,” said
the Doctor in an undertone.

The journey home passed like a flash, and six o’clock
saw Rap seated by the stove in his mother’s little
kitchen chattering of all the wonders of the trip, end-
ing by telling her that her mink muff had once killed
chickens, while she listened as eagerly as if he had
made a voyage round the world.

Meanwhile the Doctor decided that the Coon was to
go in the barn, and not be introduced to the family
until next day. Dodo was being entertained by Nat,
and was so interested that she almost forgot to eat her
supper, and afterward coaxed her uncle into bringing
the portfolio of pictures into the wonder room, that
she might look at all the Foxes and other little fur
bearers. But when she came to the picture of the Por-
cupine and heard its story, she gave a little shiver and
exclaimed, “I’m glad now I stayed at home, for if I had
seen him in the dark, I should have jumped up and
screamed, and then you wouldn’t have heard him sing,
and most likely he would have stuck me so full of
prickles that I couldn’t sew my Christmas presents !”
XV

WOLF!

“ILL you pease choose one
of the dog family?” asked
Rap the next Saturday, when
it was Nat’s turn to select a
picture for the story.
«“ Yes, I meant to choose this
one—the Wolf,’ said Nat;
“and the picture looks as if
a story really belonged to it.”
«+A Trap’ is printed on
the picture,” said Dodo, “but I don’t see any trap,
unless the Wolf is caught in one and can’t move.”

«Wrong, quite wrong, missy,” said the Doctor, set-
tling himself by the fire, after taking a couple of skins
from those hanging about the walls and spreading them
before him on the floor.

“Listen, and I will tell you the story of the great
Gray Wolf, whose picture you have here, and also
about his little barking brother, the Coyote.”

“It is sure to be a good fierce story,” said Dodo,
“because Wolves gobble people, you know. When
you lived far away, were you good friends with Wolves,
uncle?”

“Our American Wolves are not man-eaters as some
212








IMBER WOLF.

oP




WOLF! 213

of their Old World brothers are thought to be, but say-
ing that I am a friend of Wolves and know all about
them — that is quite a different matter.”

“A Wolf has no friends; he is hated by twofoots
and fourfoots alike. As for knowing all about Wolves
we may know some things and think we know others,
but the comings and goings of a Wolf are as mysterious
as the track of the wind itself. They move from place
to place so suddenly and so swiftly that it would be
easy to believe they flew on the storm, as witches were
said to do on broomsticks.”

*“ Why do you say that some Wolves in other coun-
tries are thought to eat people — don’t you believe they
do?” asked Nat.

“They may sometimes, but it is best not to believe
all that is said about animals; for there are a great
many of what Rap calls ‘ boast stories’ floating around, —
especially about Wolves. The Wolf is one of the easi-
est animals to see doubled and hear quadrupled. One
may believe that a whole pack is outside the tent, bent
on tearing you limb from limb, or swallowing you,
sleeping blanket and all, when it is really only one
mangy starveling, sniffing about for scraps of bacon or
a bit of venison you have cached a little carelessly.”

“Cashed!” said Nat. “I thought cash was money.
How could you make money out of meat, uncle?”

“Cached, with a ce, means hidden. It’s a word that
came from the French, round by way of the Canadian
voyageurs. It is in common use in camp talk ; a cache
is a hiding-place. The Gray Squirrel, instead of cach-
ing his nuts all in one place asa Red Squirrel does, puts
each one in a separate cache.”
214 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Oh, yes, I can understand that,” said Dodo.

“ When the Squirrel goes to find a nut, he plays
cache-ciche then, for that is what French children call
hide-and-seek,” said Olive, laughing.

“ Wolves all over the world bear very much the same
character. The Wolf is an emblem of deceit and cun-
ning. A Wolf, in the legend, ate Red Riding Hood’s
grandmother and tried to trick the child herself. When
it is said of people, ‘They have hard work to keep
the Wolf from the door,’ it means that want, or some
trouble as cruel and cunning as a Wolf, is threatening
them. The Gray Wolf, whose skin (the larger of the
two) lies there on the floor, is, next to the Grizzly Bear,
the most cruel and desperate of our fourfoots. Yet he
is a coward; if he were not he would have given battle
to the death to thousands of the pioneers who, as it was,
struggled inch by inch in face of desperate dangers to
settle this country. Why the Wolf is such a coward
no one knows; but, fortunately, he is, or his race would
not yet have been driven back until even the sight of
a Wolf, except in a part of the West from Texas to
North Dakota, is a great rarity.”

“Tf this old Wolf skin could only tell what it knows,
the story would not be a dull one. Look at it there,
with its long bristling gray and black hair, brindled
with traces of an under-color of yellowish brown at its
base. The under-fur is soft brown, while on the belly
both hair and fur are white. There is a bit of buff also
about its face, ears, and flanks. See its black whiskers,
the slantwise eye holes, pointed ears, and straight, bushy
tail.

“The body and head are both long. This Wolf
WOLF! 215

must have been four feet anda half from nose tip to
root of tail. Ah, yes, you handle the empty skin freely
enough ; but give it life, let the strong white dog teeth
snap in its jaws, the bright eyes gleam, and its long-
drawn howl come from the black lips, and you would
not stay near it long. If it only could speak !” said
the Doctor, pausing and looking at the fire.

“ Wough-ow-ow owou-ough,” sounded a weird voice
outside the door. “ Wough-oble-oble-oble-ough-o-u-
gooow !”

‘“‘ Horrors, what is that?” cried Olive, startled from
her usual calmness.

“It’s Wolves!” screamed Nat and Rap.

‘A whole pack, but they’ve come for bacon scraps,
they don’t want us,” shivered Dodo, trying to seem
brave.

Even the Doctor was a little startled, but the sus-
pense only lasted a moment. It was broken by a ring-
ing laugh which, even before he came in, they all knew
belonged to Mr. Blake.

“Oh, daddy ! daddy!” said Dodo, “I didn’t know!
How can you be such an intimate friend of Wolves
that you could cry their ery, when uncle says they
have no friends?”

“T’m not sure that I am a friend of theirs either,”
said Mr. Blake, throwing himself down on the wolf-
skin rug; “but I’ve been among them where they live,
and have heard their talk, and have seen their work.”
“Tell them your story of this Wolf skin, then,” said
the Doctor; so after thinking for a few moments, Mr.
Blake began : —

“Every one knows the name of Wolf. This animal
216 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

is sometimes called Gray Wolf, and the Wise Men now
say Timber Wolf; but the simple word Wolf stands for
both cruelty and cunning. His family history, from
the time the white men came to settle in this land, is
full of dark deeds and darker punishments. The Ind-
ians repeat many tales about him, and tell how that
long ago the Wolf ate of the meat of knowledge. This
meat was the flesh of the great wide-eared, hornless
Deer who is no longer living, but who was so wise
in his day that he taught the winds how to blow.
Whoever among the fourfoots should take one of these
Deer by fair hunting, and eat its flesh, won great
wisdom for his race, with keen eyes to read hidden sign
languages and a nose to scent every message of the
wind.

“The Bear only licked a bit of this magical meat ;
this brought it cunning and stupidity. The Fox, being
too small to hunt it, nibbled at a piece he did not kill;
this gave him cunning, together with the penalty that
he should be hunted by the beasts of his own tribe.
The Puma seized a piece of flesh another beast had
hidden, and so was given cunning and a sure, swift leap,
but heavy paws that weigh in running. Then a Wolf
slew the last wing-eared Deer of all, not by fair chase,
but by trap and treachery, so that the Deer in dying
branded the Wolf a coward.

“¢ Hunt and be ever hunted,’ he shrieked. ‘Hunt
with hanging head and tail; hunt treacherously with
wile and snare, for you will have great need of cunning.
An enemy comes from far across the seas, who walks
upright as Bears walk, having a moon-white face, in
one hand carrying fire, and in the other the fine white
WOLF! 217.

earth that kills! and he shall likewise devise magic
wands to spring and hold you fast.

“* You will wage war together, this man and you,
but he will conquer. And as a punishment for your
way of killing me, you shall fear to kill him, for your
real name is Coward !’

“So after many years the white men came from over
seas and settled, though at first there were but few,
and the Wolves still roamed at will about the country
—from the land where the snow never melts, down
through the woods and plains to where the Rio Grande
runs slantwise through the country and the prickly
Peccaries and cacti live. The northern Wolves were
large and grizzly; but those in the hot south were
smaller and had thinner fur. Wolves wore handsome
robes in those days, and had as many names as Bobo-
links. They were called White Wolves and Black in
the northwest, Red Wolves in the cactus country, and
Gray Wolves everywhere.

“There were some smaller Wolves, who were less
savage and less swift of foot than their brothers, more
doglike and talkative, who babbled the secrets of the
tribe and liked to hang about the homes of House
People, rather than live in woods or caves. The larger
Wolves disliked them, because they were afraid lest
they should tell tribe secrets; so they turned these
small ones out to be a tribe apart, to feed on meaner
game, and snatch and steal in open places.

“These small Wolves were given charge over sheep,
Jack Rabbits, and such timid things, and men called
them Coyotes (ground burrowers). But the Coyote is

1 Strychnine. '
-218 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

also a cunning huntsman, and lays his own traps and
chases Antelope on the plains; yet to-day there is
hatred between the two tribes, and, if a hungry Timber
Wolf meets his little brother, he will often eat him !

“ Look at that Coyote skin on the settle; you can see
it is of a finer texture than this Gray Wolf robe. It is
softly furred, a dark ripple running from head to tail
and across the brindled shoulders, it has white lips, a
rusty face, and a black tip to the tail, and measures a
full tail length shorter than this Gray Wolf’s pelt.
The Coyote is little more than a vagabond wild dog,
who barks and howls around the edges of settlements,
licking his lips when a lamb bleats or a cock crows.

“When the Buffalo herds blackened the plains, the
Gray Wolves lived by following them, snatching the
calves or killing the wounded and feeble old ones.
Then great bands of . Deer, Elk, Antelope, furnished
them with food at all seasons; for Wolves with their
spreading feet could follow these heavy, sharp-hoofed
beasts over the deep snow, through which they sank,
and, spent and overcome, soon became the Wolves’
prey.

“ As the country was settled, the Wolves crept back ;
for whether the Indian’s tale was true or not, a spell
seemed to prevent their killing men. Gun, trap, and
poison were all turned at the Wolves, who were also
chased with dogs; but still they worked mischief among
horses, flocks, and herds, and still the cry among the
frontiersmen was ‘ Wolf! Wolf! how shall we destroy
him ?’

“Wolves have another fault besides sneak hunting,
they break Nature’s law, ‘Take what ye need to eat,’
WOLF! 219

and kill in times of plenty as if for the niere greed of
killing, snatching a bite here, a fragment there, then
wasting all the rest. They also have one virtue, which
is common enough among the birds, but rare in four-
foots, —they love their mates; and a friend of mine
who knows Wolves as well as we know people, tells a
story of the fiercest, slyest Wolf of all the southwest,
who, in despair at having lost his mate, rushed headlong
into a trap.

“The home life of the Wolf is very short. His house is
only a hole under some roots, or a sheltering cave, which
covers half a dozen little woolly puppies in the late
spring. Then the Wolves are happy, for it is the season
when the Deer are fattening on the young grass and
wear soft new horns. From this time follows six months
of good living, then half a year that is a war with
famine. Wolves do not sleep the lazy winter sleep like
Bears, but hunt in packs, plotting to make a living like
human thieves. If it had not been that long ago they
ate the meat of knowledge, they would be gone and no
one would understand the cry of Wolf! As it is, there
are still many of them in the northwest grazing country,
and they increase here and there mysteriously from
Texas to North Dakota even if men continually hunt
and harry them and Deer are few; for if bread fails
them, they relish cake, by which I mean to say that, if
they can’t find venison, they are quite content with veal
-and mutton.

‘“‘ All fourfoots understand the speech of scent, more
or less, but Wolves certainly are wise with uncommon
wisdom and have a wonderful sign and scent language.
If one of the tribe dies of poison, the others will not eat
220 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

food scraps in that place. Does a Wolf of some other -
tribe run by, driven by fear; he may not be even seen,
but he writes in his track and stopping-places the
message that he wishes other Wolves to know. Every
hair that bristles on a Wolf’s back has its own mean-
ing.

“Now listen to the story of this Wolf, whose skin
is on the floor. He and his mate hunted together,
often dashing at a horse or Deer, tearing its running
sinews from behind, with their sharp teeth, or some-
times picking up a calf that ran beside its mother,
always having good eating. Often they would find
a Deer’s trail, running from its day cover to a spring,
or to its dainty wood pasturage. The Wolves did not
wish to run together openly, for Deer are very swift,
and would lead them a weary race, so they would sniff
the night wind and get before it so that it might not tell
their doings to the Deer. The wind is fickle, an enemy
to all hunters, always carrying along the latest gossip.
Then one wolf would le hidden by the runway, while
his mate would show herself openly, and drive the
Deer, at first gently, then fiercely, until it would run
blindly in a circle (a habit of the family) to its first
cover, past the very spot where the other Wolf lay like
a living trap; one spring brought down the Deer and
then the pair feasted at leisure.”

“Oh, then that is what ‘A Trap’ means on this
picture. The Wolf was a trap for the Deer,” said
Dodo. “But how did the Wolf come to die and be
made into this rug?”

“Bad days came soon after to the pair. The she-
wolf vanished, House People cleared the timber from
WOLF! 221.

that place and shot most of the Deer to feed themselves.
The next winter was bitter cold, and yet the snow was
not deep enough for our Wolf to chase and overcome
what Deer remained. So he prowled too recklessly
about a camp, and one night stepped into a trap that
gripped his leg, that hind leg that you see now wears
no foot. The Wolf struggled in vain to pull himself
away, and then with awful bites gnawed himself free,
leaving his foot fast in the trap.

“Soon he grew hungrier and hungrier; he could find
no food. Then, being desperate, he said, ‘I would even
kill a man!’

“Early the next night he stole down to the camping
place, but he found no one there, and the campfire was
nearly out. Wolves do not like fire — and he thought,
‘Surely this is my chance, perhaps they have left some
food,’ so he stalked in as boldly as his mangled leg al-
lowed. Then he stopped, for he scented man! Soon
he went on again, for stretched in the corner lay a
bundle in a blanket, —a man, but hurt and helpless.

“The signs said, ‘This man went out hunting with
his friends, he lost their track, he fell and broke his leg,
his gun is buried in the snow, he crawled back alone to
shelter.’ Then again the signs whispered to the Wolf
as he hesitated, ‘Kill him! He is yours. He set the
trap that robbed you of your foot.’

“The Wolf growled defiantly and crouched beside the
bundle, waiting until it should give some sign of life to
give the rending bite. The bundle moved and raised
itself, fixing its eyes upon the Wolf, look for look !

“The Wolf glared, but saw in those two human eyes
a light that never is in the eyes of beasts. His breath
» 299, FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

blew coldly back to him, he shivered, for in his heart
he was a coward. He longed to bite, and yet he did
not dare.

“The sleeping fire outside, that marked the camp,
shot out a flaming tongue. The Wolf started, crouched,
fearing to pass it. Then scenting on the wind that
other men were coming, he slunk out and, not stopping
to read the signs, seized a lump of meat, bolted it, and
ran until he reached the wood edge.

“The tramp of many feet bent the ice crust, hurried
words came from the camp, mingled with the cry of
Wolf! and the crash of logs. The fire leaped high.
Fire also burned within the Wolf; then came the end
—the scrap of meat that he had swallowed held the
fine white earth that kills !”

“Ob! I was so afraid the poor man would be eaten,”
said Dodo, with a sigh of satisfaction. ‘* Who was the
man, daddy ? — for there must have really been a man,
or the skin of the Wolf with one foot gone wouldn’t
have been found.”

“Was it yourself ?” asked Olive.

* # * *# *

At that moment a scream from the kitchen turned
their thoughts in another direction, so they hurried out
to find the cause.

It was easily seen. Billy Coon, who had escaped un-
‘noticed from the camp while the Wolf story was in
progress, in attempting to help himself to some bread
dough that was rising by the fire, had fallen into the
soft mass, and at Mammy’s scream climbed to the top
shelf of the dresser, where he sat, streaming dough.
XVI
COUSINS OF CATS

ACCOONS have the reputation of being as
mischievous as monkeys, as well as play-
ful as kittens. Billy Coon did all in his
power to keep up the reputation of his
family, as well as to make life interest-
ing to the children at the farm, often
succeeding only too well, and was
threatened with banishment by Rod, Dr.
Hunter, and Mammy Bun in turn.
Billy was supposed to live at the
stable, except on Saturdays, when he was brought to
camp, “to make it seem more like outdoors,” as Dodo
said. The children watched eagerly to see if he would
go to the hay loft and curl up for the winter sleep,
after the custom of his family. But no, Billy did not
propose to waste his time in this way, and indeed why
should he? Was he not comfortable and well fed?
He had no need to tighten his belt and go to bed to
keep warm. To be sure, he did sleep nearly all day
curled up in the hay rack over Comet’s stall, waking
up before dark each night to devise fresh mischief.

The feed and oats were kept in bins above the stable,
connected by a long, wooden shoot with the stalls be-
low. One night Billy pulled open the little slot over
223










924 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Comet’s manger, and when Rod arrived in the morning
he found the trotter standing in a pond of oats, having
eaten so much that he had to take a dose of medicine
and have his stomach rubbed with a broom handle to
cure his colic. Jor the stomach of a horse is so built
that when colic once gets inside it is very difficult to
get it out again.

Another evening Billy escaped unnoticed, before Rod
closed the barn, and went into the house cellar. There
he feasted and revelled all night, only to frighten
Mammy Bun nearly out of her wits, when she went
down to get the potatoes to bake for breakfast, by am-
bling out at her, dripping with molasses from the jug
which he had overturned. This particular evening he
had engaged in a slight difference of opinion with
Quick over a plate of scraps, and so kept prudently
upon the camp rafters, while Quick and My. Wolf
eyed him in a way that meant trouble for his ring-
tailed Furship.

“Won't you please choose the three Cats with no
bodies?” said Dodo to Olive, whose turn it was to
select the picture for the story.

“T was thinking of choosing the Cats,” replied Olive.
“There are a couple more pictures beside those. Ah,
here they are! The spotted Ocelot, lying in wait in a
tree, and the Puma, hunting Elk.”

“There is another a little further over,” said Rap,
“a lean, weaselly-looking beast with a thick tail. It is
called Civet Cat, though it has a Fox face and a Coon
tail.”

“You may take out the pictures with the others,
COUSINS OF CATS 225

though it is not a Cat at all, but it is a good chance to
tell you why it is not,” said the Doctor.

“This Northern Civet Cat, or Cacomistle (Bush Cat)
as the Wise Men call it, though it belongs in the south-
west part of the country, has more names than there







Evnest Seton Thommison



Crvet Cat.

are days in the week, and all because in appearance

and habits it is a sort of patchwork resembling, from

‘different points of view, Coon, Fox, Cat, and Squirrel.

“Jn killing birds and robbing nests it follows the

House Cat, and like it prowls at night and makes an

amusing pet. Its body, covered with Coon-gray fur,
Q
226 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

is about eighteen inches long and ends in such a thick,
ringed tail, that you say Coon at once, and it does be-
long in the Raccoon family, and is the very least cousin
of the Bear, in spite of its catlike ears, whiskers, and
slender, lithe body. The Civet Cat also makes its home
in hollow branches or stumps like the Coon, and as it
climbs and dodges about, it might easily be taken for a
wide-eared Squirrel, except for its tail. You see, here
is another case where the tail tells!”

After placing the pictures carefully in a row below
the map, animal tree, and ladder for climbing it, the
children came back to the fire, near which, on the set-
tle, Dr. Roy had thrown three skins— plain, spotted,
and streaked.

“How many species of Cats are there in North
America?” asked Olive.

“Nine: five with high shoulders, short fur, and long
tails, ike those of their cousins the Lion, Tiger, and
House Cat, and four of the Lynx variety, with short or
bobtails, long fluffy fur, high back legs, and sharply
pointed ears. All but one of the long-tailed varieties
belong to the southwest, being much more at home in
Central and tropical America than near the United
States border. Beginning with the largest, they are
called the Jaguar, the Puma, the Ocelot, the Yagua-
rundi Cat, and the Eyra Cat, the last two being com-
paratively unknown. The Puma and the Ocelot are
the only ones that concern us. '

“Of the four bobtail Cats, or Lynxes, the Canada
Lynx belongs to the north. The Spotted and Plateau
Lynx belong to the southwest, leaving us in the mid-
dle and southeast states the Bay Lynx, or Wildcat, as
COUSINS OF CATS 227

he is everywhere called. They all have four toes on
the hind feet and five on the front, and their tongues
are covered with backward-pointed prickles.”

“There are long-tailed Wildcats in our woods !
Rod says so, and I saw them, for they come down to
the barnyard to get swill, and they took some of the
squabs from the pigeon house,” said Nat. “ They are
dark brown and black striped, and have fat, bunchy
cheeks, and crawl low down in the grass, as if they tried
to hide.”

“You are both right and wrong,” laughed Doctor Roy.
“These cats are wild in one sense, because they live in
the woods, hunt for a living, and are fierce and shy ; but
they are the children of tame house or barn cats and
no more like the real Lynx rufus, than we should be
like Indians if we went to the woods, dressed in moc-
casins and blankets, and painted our faces.

“Tn speaking of the Rabbits, I think I told you how
much help the length and shape of their tails give in
naming them.”

“Yes, I remember,” said Rap; “the Jack had the
longest tail, and the Wood Hare a turned-up cotton
tail, and the Pika not much of a tail at all.”

“Tt is the same with members of the cat family.
The tail will give you a clew to the family, for as all
these North American Cats are more prone to run away
than to face you, the tail will be more familiar than the
face, so if you see a Wildcat with a bobtail, you will
know. him for the real kind.

“Having chosen three from this group of ten cats,
let us look at them. Two of the three — the Puma and
Wildcat — once ranged over a considerable part of the
» 928 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

United States, touching even the northern border, while
the Ocelot always kept well to the south, having once
been found in Arkansas and Louisiana, but now in
our limits has retreated to or beyond the Rio Grande.
The Ocelot is a spotted beauty, plucky, and a real game
animal, with his skin as vari-colored and bright as a
Leopard’s, one of our few richly colored Mammals.
He is also, as it says on this picture, a ‘spotted disas-
ter’ to birds and smaller beasts who venture in or
under the tree where he chooses a branch for a divan
whereon to take his noontime rest. Mottles of light
and shadow playing upon the tree bark and nestling
in the moving leaves, help hide his ten sharp claws
sheathed between elastic foot-pads. His four cruel
dog teeth, covered by the tightly shut whiskered lips,
tell no tales of the bristle-covered tongue within, that
licks and licks the skin of its prey, until it is filed
away, and the bleeding flesh made ready for the meal.
“When he hunts by stalking, he prefers the dark
hours, his eyes shining like lanterns. In truth, the
Ocelot wears a coat of many colors, in which orange,
brown, and yellow blend and mingle as a groundwork
for tawny, black-edged spots, stripes and streaks which
cover two and a half feet of body and fifteen inches of
tail. In habits, he is more of a tree cat than the others ;
he too, like them, is no carrion eater, only feeding upon
prey that he catches himself. See the crouching figure
with ears well up, back feet braced, and tail lashing.
It is in the exact position of a House Cat watching a
Mouse. In a moment, if the birds pass under the
tree, there will be a spring, a flutter, and a mass of
feathers borne to the ground, and a meal for the Ocelot.










THE OCELOT.
COUSINS OF CATS 229

“Jn spite of its climbing propensi-
ties, the Ocelot is a swift runner, and
leads the dogs, with whom it was for-
merly always hunted, a wild chase,
crossing and doubling among the water- .
ways of its haunts in a manner to throw
the keenest hound off the scent.”

“Now my three grinning
heads,” said Dodo, gazing at her
favorite picture ; ‘are they three
kinds of cats, or a mother, father,
and child? I think they look
like a family.”

“Three different species,” said
Dr. Roy; “and the heads are
drawn in exact proportion, so
that you may judge of their
size. The smallest is the House
Cat, an emigrant like our-
selves. The next in size is
the Wildcat, or Bay Lynx,
and the largest with the hairy
ear tufts is the savage Can-
ada Lynx, called Loup Cervier
by the early travellers.

“You all know the House
Cat and its habits: how it
purrs when it is going to
sleep or feels pleased ; how
it sharpens its claws on -car-
pet or wood, drawing them
in and out at will; how Ganapa Lynx.






- 230 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

rough its tongue is when it licks your finger. You
have seen its eyes shine in the dark, and how the pupil
(the little dark spot in the centre that lets in the
light to make it see) can be made large or small. You
have watched it steal along softly on its hunting trips
as cautiously as a man, and you have seen it give a
mouse or bird the fatal blow with its heavy paw, that
both stuns and holds like a trap. It is a cat’s skill as a
bird hunter that made me banish it years ago from the
farm, for a terrier will keep the rats and mice in order
quite as well.

“You also know, or at least I am sure that Olive
does, how. a cat steals away to find some very private
place for a nest for her little blind kittens, and how
much pride she takes in cuddling them in her arms and
suckling them until they can lap milk or catch mice for
themselves.”

“Indeed I do, for a cat once made a nest on a shelf
in a box where I kept my best hat all trimmed with
ostrich feathers and velvet!” said Olive.

“Our Wildcats seek out the most inaccessible places
in rock ledges and tree hollows as homes for their kit-
tens. When I was a boy I found a Wildcat’s nest in
an old chestnut log, in the wood by the grazing pasture
at the other side of the farm. No, you need not look
worried, Dodo, there are none about now!

“Tt was the early part of May, and a party of us had
gone out to look for arbutus, which made masses of
fragrant pink among the dead leaves. People all about
had been complaining of the Foxes and saying that they
were very bold, visiting some farm every night and yet
leaving no tracks. We lost chickens and ducks, quite
COUSINS OF CATS 231

a good-sized little pig, and finally a pair of tame white,
pink-eyed rabbits that were my special pride.

“In going flower hunting this day I strayed away
from the others to look for the thousand arid one things
that always made the woods a fairy picture book to me.
I should not have been surprised to have found the en-
trance to the palace of the sleeping beauty between the
rocks, but instead of Beauty I found a Beast!”

“Oh, uncle, you are joking; all those were dream sto-
ries that never really happened,” said Dodo, solemnly.

“J said a Beast, not the Beast, and it happened in
this way. I was resting on the edge of a moss-covered
rock under the edge of which lay the trunk of an enor-
mous chestnut that had been blown over and gone mostly
to decay. As I swung my heels down and kicked this
trunk, three little furry heads appeared at the hollow
in the end. I took them for the kittens of some stray
cat, and stooping over tried to catch one, but they gave
a cry in concert, something between a spit and a yowl,
and disappeared in the tree. Then I noticed that the
mossy ground by the stump was dug up and there was
the partly covered remains of one of my rabbits !

“ Before I could think or put two and two together,
I heard the snapping of some twigs behind me on the
rocks, and as I turned a most weird and unpleasant
‘meau-ll-ll’ greeted me, and there stood a Wildcat, ears
back, jaws snarling, its long legs braced for a spring! I

_ did not know that the American members of this family
will not, any more than Wolves, attack man unless
driven to bay, that they never hunt in packs, or that
the cat was fully as much frightened as I was, and that
she had merely returned home in a hurry in answer to
282 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the call of her kittens. I saw only a strange monster
spitting fire, ready to spring at me, and imagined I
heard the cries of a hundred more in the trees. Under
these circunistances it was not strange that I ran back
to my companions, with such a tale of horror that the
whole party hurried home as fast as possible to spread
the news, not daring to look behind them, and spilling
arbutus blossoms like a paper chase trail over three
miles of road.

“Our parents wisely decided that I must have seen
one Wildeat, if not a whole army, and concluding that
the missing poultry could only have been taken by a
beast that climbed, organized a hunting party composed
of six mixed dogs, who understood the Coon trade, five
men and as many rifles, while I was allowed to follow.
The mother Cat was easily treed and quickly shot ow-
ing to her unwillingness to leave the neighborhood of
her log house. I had begged for the kittens to tame
for pets, so they were poked out of the log and put in
a bag.

“All of a sudden, as we turned toward a path to
leave the wood by a different way, our old hound Trum-
peter put his nose to the ground and started off like a
shot, the less well-bred pack following at his heels.

““¢Go home with your bag of kittens,’ said my father,
in a tone that brooked no argument, as he dashed after
the dogs. Though it was a lonely walk, the bag was
heavy, and the kittens clawed and quarrelled, there
was nothing for me to do but go.

“Sundown came, no father; the moon rose, and the
wives of the four other hunters gathered at our house,
and sat solemnly in the sitting-room (now my wonder
COUSINS OF CATS 233

room), where, Dodo, your mother, then a small baby,
was asleep in her cradle. At ten o'clock they went to
their homes, while I peeped at them from the hall
window, and finally went to bed, dreaming of Wolves,
Indians, and Lions.

“ About half-past seven the next morning the party
returned, father carrying Trumpeter over his shoulder,
and our neighbors the pair of Wildcats. They had
followed the trail upon. which our hound had started
nearly all night, in and out of brush, marsh, and wood.
When the male cat was finally brought to bay, Trum-
peter, not distinguishing between this savage beast and
the usual Coon, had attacked him, only to be painfully
wounded, and then a bullet had killed the second of
this pair of robbers.

“T can remember now exactly how the Wildcat
looked, as it lay on the door stone, for they gave the
female to me because I first saw it. It was nearly
three feet long from nose to root of tail, which was,
perhaps, a little over six inches. It had a round head
and large pointed ears, from which the long winter
hairs were not completely shed. Its long body was
covered with brindled, barred, and mottled fur, of light
and dark brown, rusty and gray. Its legs and feet
seemed long and large compared to its lean muscular
body. My father kept the skin of this cat and tanned
it, and, old and worn, there it is now on the settle!”

_ “Only think,” said Nat, as the children began to
handle the pelt and stroke it eagerly, “this old skin
once lived in our woods and frightened Uncle Roy !”

“Did Trumpeter get well, and what became of the
kittens?” asked Dodo.
234 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Trumpeter was bandaged up and cured after a
while, but it was months before he would go near the
cat skin, which lay on the back of the parlor sofa.
The kittens soon grew very sly and vicious, and father
gave them to a travelling showman who came to Hast
Village.”

“ Where do Wildcats live now?” asked Rap.

“ They are scattered quite evenly over the wilder parts
of the middle country from the south up, haunting
places where small Mammals or game birds can be had,
but they are nowhere common enough to cause trouble.”

“Now the nicest cat picture of all,” said Rap, “the
Puma and the Elk. The Puma doesn’t look much like
a Cat—is more like the postmaster’s old lean mastiff.”

“ You make a good comparison there, my boy,” said
the Doctor ; “except that it has shorter legs and larger
feet, and a tuft on the end of its tail, this Puma is very
much the same size and color as that dog.

“ Tmagine an animal like old Max weighing from 150
to 200 pounds, with the spring and strength of a bundle
of steel springs, feet heavy enough to fell a man with a
blow, and armed with the most powerful movable claws.
Having more leaping agility than any American four-
foot, clearing twenty feet easily on a level, and in a
downward leap able to cover sixty feet, and you will
have a picture of the Puma, as the Wise Men prefer to
call him, though he is known in different parts of the
country as Panther, Mountain Lion, and Cougar. The
Puma varies very much in size, those found in the south
being larger than their northerly brothers.”

“Why is that?” asked Rap. ‘Among Wolves the
northerly ones were the biggest.”
COUSINS OF CATS 235

“The dog family likes a cool climate and the cats
prefer a warm one. Even though the Puma is hardy,
and can live in all climates, one of the Wise Men says
that an animal always grows the largest in the climate
that best suits him.

“The Puma sharpens its claws on the bark of trees
or the earth, and purrs when pleased; both these
instincts are found in his tame cousin, the House Cat,
who provokes her owners often by scratching the carpet.
Their fur changes color somewhat according to season,
and the young wear mottled coats at first, like young
Deer.”

“TI suppose he only lives in very far-away wild
places,” said Rap.

“Now his haunts are almost altogether confined to
the rocky and wooded parts of the west and southwest 3
but not so many years ago he ranged within a few
miles of the eastern coast and was plentiful in the
Adirondacks, in places where people now have camps
and cottages.

“The Puma is feared by all other beasts except a
Bear or a Deer with fully grown antlers, for it both at-
tacks the throat and gives killing blows with its heavy
paws. But the Puma keeps to the wildest places and
where it was plentiful the Wildcat was usually rare.”

“Tf they lived in such lonely places, how did they
come to be killed out?” asked Olive.

_ “Because, wherever they were seen, they frightened
people so much that they were killed whenever possible.
Then they had but two, or at most four, little ones in
their rocky lair every other year, and these took two or
three years to become fully grown, so the race increased
236 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

very slowly. The only wonder is that there are so
many left, for they are not long-lived animals, seldom
living more than fifteen years.”

_ “ Didn’t they eat a great many people ?” asked Dodo.

“No, like the Wolves they dread firearms and seldom
or never attack man in spite of all the wonderful stories
you will hear to the contrary. The greatest harm they
did was to kill food animals upon which man depended.
Deer, young Elk, and also calves, they destroyed easily,
as well as sheep and pigs, and they have been known
to capture, kill, and drag away to a private feeding spot
a beast almost twice their own size. The Puma has one
good quality, —it is not a wasteful feeder, never taking
new prey while it has a supply of food on hand.

“Tt is as a hunter that the Puma shows the most in-
telligence. He is a fair hunter, watching signs, wait-
ing until he can get to windward of his prey, then
creeping slowly upon it and preparing for the spring,
as the human hunter stalks and waits for the right
moment to shoot. It is upon his wonderful leap that
the Puma depends for his success; he is too heavy of
paw and too short of breath to be a fast runner. He
may trust to one, two, or three springs to catch up with
his flying prey, then if he does not overtake it he
does not follow it further. It is this lack of speed
which allows dogs and men afoot to drive him to cover,
though of course he has the advantage of being able to
cross chasins on logs and to descend steeps by means of
trees. Young Deer are perhaps the Puma’s favorite
food, though he does not despise any animal food, and
often makes a meal of that four-legged cactus, the
Porcupine. Do you remember how Wolves trapped












PUMA HUNTING ELK.
COUSINS OF CATS 237

the Deer, one chasing it in a circle while the other lay
hidden in the runway to pull it down as it passed ?”

“Yes, yes, we all do!” chorused the children.

“The Puma hunts singly more than in couples, so
instead of driving the Deer or Elk (it never tries a fully
grown Moose) it notes the runway and waits for the Deer
to pass the spot where it is crouching. A successful
spring will land the Puma on the haunches of his vic-
tim, where he fastens his claws until he can give the
killing throat bite. But oftentimes the Deer starts
quickly and the Puma is ‘ too late,’ and the Elk escapes,
like those in the picture.

“Jn snow time alone, the Puma seems to hunt by
chasing as well as by the stalk and leap. He can
spread his broad paws so as to make snow-shoes of them,
keeping on the surface while the small, sharp hoofs of
the Deer cause them to sink. In this again he hunts
like some sportsmen, who take a mean advantage of the
heavy Moose and Elk ploughing wearily through deep
snow, to follow them on snow-shoes without having the.
Puma’s rightful excuse of hunger.”

The children laid the Ocelot, Wildcat, and Puma
skins on the floor, comparing and talking about them,
while Olive went for the crackers to toast.

Finally Dodo folded her arms, looked up with a sigh,
and said solemnly, “ Even if Pumas do not eat people,
I’m very much relieved to know that they have re-
treated a long way inland,” being perfectly unconscious
that she was imitating Dr. Roy’s speech and deliberate
manner, and not understanding why he laughed so
heartily that his “near to” eye-glasses bounced into
the fire.
XVII

THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS

the smoke coming out of
his nose?” said Dodo to
Rap, as he was turning
over the pictures the next
Saturday evening. “I
don’t understand one bit
about the different horns,
—the cow’s that stay on
and the Deer’s horns that fall off.”

“Doctor Roy says we must ask Nez for the story to
that picture. I am looking to see if I can find any
cousins of the farm animals; it seems as if there must
be some. Yes, here are two, —a Sheep with monstrous
horns and a white Goat!”

“Oh, uncle! daddy !” called Dodo, “we have found
wild relations of Nanny Baa and Corney!”

“Yes,” added Rap, “and beside in the Sheep picture
there is Billy Coon’s cousin, a great fat Bear.”

“So you have come to three of our famous ‘big
game’ fourfoots in a bunch,” said Mr. Blake, “and I
suppose you want me to take you hunting to-night.
Very well, we will go, only yon must put on stout

238



=
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 239

clothes, thick, easy shoes, or moccasins, bring a pair of
skees apiece, and be prepared for climbing up hill for
miles and sleeping out doors many nights.”

“ What are skees?” asked Nat.

“They are foot gear; an Old-World invention, half
skate, half snow-shoe, like a pair of small foot-tobog-
gans, that Rocky Mountain hunters use in icy weather.”

“Then these ‘big game’ animals live ’way out west
in the Rocky Mountains! I know those mountains,”
said Dodo; “they hump up all the way from Alaska
down to Mexico. But people need not walk ; couldn’t
they go there by train, daddy ?”

“You can go for a week or more by train. Then at
the end of a week of horseback riding and walking
mixed, you will be lucky if you see the plump, round
body, and the great curved horns that give the name
of Bighorn to this Mountain Sheep, the shyest of all
our fourfoots.

“Some day, if Ido not grow too old and stiff, and
if the wasteful Wolf Hunters have not dragged dyna-
mite guns up the mountains and bombarded them all
out, I hope to take Nat to see this Bighorn and the
Mountain Goat at home. For to-night you must be
content with a story.”

“The big Bear, does he live as far up and away as
the others?”

“ He lives in and also below their ranges, but nowa-
days one must usually look much further for a Grizzly,
such as the one who is peering at the Bighorn in the
picture, than for either the Sheep or Goats. The
Grizzly is a flesh eater, with an enormous appetite for
everything else eatable—from wild berries to honey-
240 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

comb. He is sometimes tempted to come near farms,
camps, and houses, to pick up dainty titbits, while the
Sheep and Goats, being hollow-horned cud-chewers,
belonging to the meat family, like the Bison, are not
often tempted: from their lofty grazing grounds; but
his foot leaves no sound and he comes and goes unseen.

“In the great National Park of the Yellowstone
River, where the Government, by offering protection,
is trying to coax the ‘big game’ to make itself into a
Zodlogical Garden, — there is a hotel where people
may stay who wish to see the wonders of the country
without too much trouble. The waste food and refuse
of this house is carried to a heap not far away.”

“ A swill heap, you mean, don’t you, daddy?” asked

-Dodo. “I shouldn’t think the Government would
allow a swill heap in a Park. Uncle won’t have one
on. the farm; he says ‘they are perfectly barbarous
things, that make pestilence and flies,’ so the pigs have
the clean scraps and everything else is buried!”

“You are right there,” laughed Mr. Blake, “and it
is nothing more nor less than the odor of this swill
heap, attractive at least from their point of view, that
lures the Bears, both Black and Grizzly, from their
rocky dens to come and feast within eye-shot of House.
People.”

“Then I should think the people could shoot them,”
said Nat.

“No guns are allowed in the Park, that is one reason
why the Bears are so fearless.”

“But. I should think the Bears and Panthers and
little nuisance animals would grow to be too many, and
eat up the Deer and other fourfoots.”


GrizzLy BEAR AND BiGHORN SHEEP.
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 241

“They may in‘time, but the idea, I believe, is to trap
the larger beasts if they increase too freely and send
them to Zodlogical Gardens where people may see
them.”

“How long do wild animals live?” asked Dodo.

“That depends upon the species. House Cats and
Dogs, you know, are considered quite old at twelve, and
seldom live longer than fifteen years. Horses will
average twenty-five, while on the other hand Squirrels
and Rabbits are old at seven or eight.”

“ How long do Bears live?”

“Perhaps twenty or twenty-five years, but it is very
difficult to judge about wild animals. It is impossible
to keep track of them out of doors. In confinement
they are seldom perfectly healthy, and so do not live
out their natural lives. In fact, among these flesh-eating
four-foots, every one eats some one else, and it is prob-
able that very few live to die of old age.”

“Do Grizzly Bears and Bighorns and Goats live no-
where but in the Rockies?”

“‘Grizzlies were once found in all the mountains and
foothills of the west from Mexico north to the Barren
Grounds. They did not always stay in the mountains
either, but came across open country, poking their noses
most unpleasantly into the affairs of prairie travellers,
and carrying consternation into the very glare of the
campfire.

“Now ‘old Ephraim,’ as the Grizzly is nicknamed,
has been driven from his more southerly haunts only to
increase and thrive mightily in the cold northwest ter-
ritory, where the largest are found. When a Grizzly
Bear undertakes to grow as large as he can, then take

R
242 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

warning, sheep, range cattle, and huntsmen! Of all
the ferocious, unstopable, persistent, disagreeable beasts
of North America, this Bear is the chief! Compared
to him the Polar Bear is a cat and the Black Bear a
kitten ; small wonder then that the Wise Men named
him ‘horribilis’ /”

“T think you must have met a Grizzly out walking,”
said Dodo, “so you can tell us about him. How big
was he and how did he look?”

“He looked as big asa load of hay ambling along,
but he measured, after our battle was over, about nine
feet from nose to tail, and stood four feet high at the
shoulder. As he could not have changed in size dur-
ing an hour, it proves what I have always said, that
going either hunting or fishing turns human eyes into
magnifying glasses, making them see double at the very
least.

“The rough hairy fur of the Grizzly varies so much
in color that hunters, judging by sight alone, often in-
sist that he is several kinds of bear instead of one.
You all know that you cannot judge by appearances
in studying animals; if you did, you would call the
Whale a big fish, never guessing that it is just as much
a Mammal as a cow.

“The Grizzly’s summer coat is short, brindled brown,
and his winter, long, heavy, and a buffy brown, not griz-
zled gray as some people think. Grizzly, a Wise Man
says, means horrible, and should be spelled g-r-i-s-l-y.
A faded brown will be the color of those you are likely
to see in menageries. This Bear has a heavy head, a

rather wolflike face, with full cheek tufts of fur bush-
ing out well up to the ears, and eyes that express the
'
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 248

deep cunning that looks like stupidity. He walks usu-
ally on all fours, but can also charge standing upright,
looking like some giant or ogre in a fairy tale.

“His broad footprints, for he is a sole walker, also
have something strangely human about them, and hunt-
ers, fancying that they looked like moccasin tracks,
dubbed the Grizzly ‘Moccasin Joe.’ But the likeness
to a foot disappears when you see the long, cruel claws
that end the toes—claws that are both weapons for
tearing and tools for digging roots, hollowing out a
den for the winter sleep, or burying the food he cannot
eat at once.”

“Do big Bears like this have to sleep in winter? I
should think they could keep warm enough to stay
awake with such a thick coat,” said Nat.

“In the cooler parts of the country they ‘den up,’ —
the length of time they stay in varying from a few weeks
to six months, and depending upon the weather. When
a Bear makes up his mind to go to sleep, he is generally
very fat and his fur is atits best. I’m quite sure a thin
Bear would have sense enough not to risk curling up
until he had collected some fat about his bones to feed
his winter life fire.

“Now you must imagine a picture of Moccasin Joe
in addition to the drawing, then take a good look at
the Bighorn and Mountain Goat, for it was in hunting
for one of these two that I met a Grizzly ‘out walk-
ing,’ as Dodo says.

“The Bighorn is a shapely, well-built fourfoot, about
the size of a year-old heifer (or in round numbers three
and a half feet to the shoulder), with all the firm plump-
ness of a sheep, having the poise and swiftness of a
244 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Deer, and wearing such wonderful horns that he would
be a marked animal in any country. So heavy are
these horns that nature does not oblige the female to
carry them, giving her a much smaller pair. It is suf-
ficient for the males, who wage war with each other
and upon beasts of prey, to have such weapons. ‘Then,
too, the small horns of the female tell the hunter who
she is, and if he is a true sportsman he will never shoot
her or her young, unless he is either starving or needs
her. very badly to complete some family group in a
museum.

“The coat of the Bighorn is of a bluish dirt gray, the
rump is whitish, thick and fleecy beneath, thicker on
the neck and shoulders than on the flanks, and thatched
with a brittle, strawlike outer coat. In fact, at a dis-
tance, if he is standing, the whole animal looks white,
but in lying down seems to melt suddenly into his sur-
roundings. He is not only a gamey, alert animal, but
looks it; he has the air of a mountain lover, whose great-
_ est joy is to climb a high peak and turn his straw-colored
eyes toward the view. This habit of course makes him
doubly hard to kill, for the hunter not only has to
climb, but the Sheep can see everything from his rocky
outpost, and the chances are that, unless the sportsman
crawls on the ground for miles from cover to cover,
making himself as flat as a Woodchuck, when he
arrives within shooting distance of where the Sheep
was, he will see it calmly watching him from another
pinnacle a mile further up.”

“TI suppose they can jump just like Panthers and get
over places that people couldn’t cross,” said Rap.

“They are agile and quick runners and can jump
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 245

moderately, but when they wish to go down a steep
place, they set their feet and coast, for the shock of
jumping so far would kill them, even if their bones
were not all broken.

“So hardy is the Bighorn and family that the lambs
born in the early spring go slipping over the ice after
their parents as soon as their legs can bear them, never
dreaming of feeling cold.”

“Tf they are hardy and live so far away, I shouldn’t
think there would be any danger of their dying out,”
said Rap.

“You would not think so, and yet they yield such
delicious mutton that they are persecuted by all the
flesh-eating animals who are able to take them, in addi-
tion to man.

“The Mountain Goat, on the contrary, is said, by
those who know, to be holding his own better. His:
flesh is tough and strong-flavored, and his heavy coat
of thick under-fur and rough white hair, that makes
him look as clumsy as a miniature Bison, is of little
value asa pelt. The Indians, who used to make robes
of it, prefer the woven blankets obtained at the trading
stations, and so leave him comparatively alone in his
dizzy pastures.”

“The Goat doesn’t look as if he would be a good
climber,” said Rap, studying the picture. “He is
short-legged and clumsy and has a humpy neck like
a Bison, and his head pokes so far forward that I
‘shouldn’t think he could see behind him. He looks
as if he would like a nice, comfortable pasture like farm
cattle!”

‘“His looks belie him, sure enough! He is a foot less
246 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

tall than the Bighorn, and his smooth black horns do
not look powerful, but if I could show you one of his
hoofs, you would see how he manages to cling to the
face of almost upright rocks.

“This hoof has a soft clinging cushion in the middle
and an edge sharp as a skate; the foot of one of the
few animals who in bitterest weather declines all shel-
ter, and often lies down in the middle of a frozen pool
in face of cutting wind, acting as if he enjoyed it.”

“Why doesn’t he freeze to the ice and die?” asked
Dodo.

“That is a question I cannot answer. He and his
cousin, the Musk Ox, have the secret of keeping warm
that nature taught their race in the bygone age of ice.
But you can understand how interesting the Bighorn
and Mountain Goat are, and see why, being within a
few hundred miles of their haunts, I determined to find
them, crossing the Bad Lands to the mountains where
I had friends, without desiring to meet the Grizzly,
who introduced himself to me quite unexpectedly.”

“What are Bad Lands?” asked Nat. ‘“ Places full
of robbers ?”

“No; Bad Lands are the parts of the country, beauti-
ful to see from the distance, but where there is so little
moisture that few things better than cacti and such
like plants will thrive. The lime-filled, parti-colored
soil being filled with cracks and cajions, it is a region
good for game but bad for the farmer, bad for the cattle
raiser and very bad for the sportsman who, if overtaken
by darkness, must make his camp where he is, for there
are no tree signs to guide him on his way.”

« Are these Bad Lands all in one place?” asked Nat.


TAIN GOATS.

Moun
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 247

“JT should think, if they are, the Government could put
a fence around them to keep people from straying in.”
“That would be a fine piece of work,” said Mr. Blake,
laughing. “Imagine putting a fence around an irreg-
ular strip, that runs east of the Rockies, making all
sorts of side excursions, from Canada to Mexico, and
containing more than a million square miles! It would
take all the trees in Canada for fence posts, and the
first post would be old and decayed before the last was
putin. But let us return to our story.

“Tt was in early summer, and the party I had joined
was fairly located for making a railway survey across
the Cascade Mountains, not far southeast of Seattle, in
what is now the state of Washington. Look at your
map and you will find that these mountains, named
from the streams of clear, cold water dashing down
their slopes, lie between the Rockies and the Pacific
coast, and are about as far west as any mountains ex-
cept the Olympic group.

“While the camp was waiting for some instruments
that had not arrived, three or four of us determined to
do a little surveying for Sheep and Goats on our own
account. After keeping together for two days and
nights, until we had worked our way well up, we de-
cided to divide, three of the party to continue on
above timber-line after the Goats, while I, accompanied
by Crawling Joe, a typical mountaineer engaged by our
camp as a guide, meat provider, and useful man, was to
go southward along the ledges toward some woodlands
and plateaus where Bighorns were likely to graze.”

“Why was the man called Crawling Joe?” asked
Dodo.
248 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Because of his way of hunting Indian-fashion. No
matter which way the wind blew, when he had once
located an animal, whether it was Bighorn, Moose, or
Elk, he would manage to crawl and tack up against
the wind within shooting distance of it. In doing
this for years he had acquired the cunning of a snake,
and would often appear by the campfire as suddenly
as if he had come through the ground.

“This particular day he insisted that we should
leave the horses behind and go on foot, as the rolling of
stones and other like sounds, made even by the most
sure-footed. horses, might prevent our getting a sight
of our game. I carried nothing but my pet Winchester,
but Joe shouldered a small pack sufficient for a night’s
camping. After climbing pretty steadily for four
hours, we sat down to rest and eat our dinner of cold
food. Finding shelter at the edge of a belt of spruces,
where there was also water, we resolved to camp there
that night and so left the pack in a tree until our re-
turn, out of the reach of inquisitive Bears, if any should
pass that way.

“Our stalk for Bighorns began about one o'clock ;
Joe took the lead, directing me by signs. In an hour
we were well clear of the woods, and skirting a. cliff
full of springs and caverns. Suddenly Joe dropped to
his knees, motioning me to do the same, then raised his
head and gave it an upward jerk. I looked, and: half
a mile away, on a jutting rock that stood clean against
the sky, like a headland against blue sea, was a Bighorn
ram, as immovable as if he were a part of the blue gray
stone itself.
lambs, and another ram, though as they were lying down
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 249

it was doubly easy to mistake them for stones. The
peak where they stood was like an island. ‘The wind
was blowing in our faces, and Joe signalled me to take
the left route while he turned to the right, thus lessen-
ing the chance of the sheep’s escape, at least down the
mountain. Already I tasted the rich roast mutton
with which I had promised to feast the boys of our
camp, who had grown tired of salt meat and venison.

“JT dropped on my hands and knees and began to
crawl in a very poor imitation of Joe, for it seemed to
me that every stone I touched was either sharp as a
knife, or took particular pleasure in rolling down hill.
After a quarter of a mile of this sort of work, the ledge
around which I was passing was high enough to shield
me if I walked upright, and this allowed me to rest my
strained knees and elbows.

“As I paused a moment to look about, a few bones
caught my eye; the meat was picked from them, but
the gristle was quite fresh. ‘Ah, ha,’ thought I, ‘a Bear
must have been enjoying some spring lamb!’ I thought
Bear, and instantly I saw a Bear! Lurching down the
steep and stopping directly in my path was a full-sized
Grizzly, who was evidently as surprised as I, but not
so frightened. ‘The Bear rose on its hind legs, waving
its paws, and looked at me slantwise. I returned the
stare glance for glance, not knowing what else to do,
half expecting the beast to run, as most fourfoots will,
and feeling backward at the same time for a footing
that would give me range enough to use my rifle.

“As I took a step backward the Bear stepped forward
growling. I had made a mistake; a female Grizzly
with two or three hungry cubs in her den does not run
~

250 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

that she may live to fight, she stays to kill that she may
eat. -Oh! foratree! If there had been one in sight
I would have risked running for it, as Grizzlies are not
good climbers like the Black Bear; but there I was,

I could neither run nor shoot. My enemy gave a grin
and a growl and took another step forward, clawing at
me. I dared not lift my rifle to my shoulder, lest she
should grab the muzzle, but I managed to grasp the
barrel, and swinging it round brought the butt down on
the Grizzly’s nose with a heavy blow. She was only
enraged by it, not stunned, and gave a growl, gnashing
her teeth with a horrible noise. For a moment I ex-
pected no other fate than to become the supper for the
little Bears !

“Something cold slipped along my shoulder and
touched my cheek. Fortunately I had sufficient nerve
not to turn—there was a sharp report close to my
head that made me deaf and kept my ears ringing for
months afterward, but the Bear pitched forward, just
clearing me, and rolled down the rocks to a ledge below,
shot through her wicked eye.

“Then I turned. « Joe was behind me, calm and cool
as if he had merely shot a Squirrel.

““*T saw her a-comin’ from the open yonder, and I
reckoned you'd be wantin’ me ’bout now. Never mind
skinnin’ her until we get our Bighorn —she’ll stay
down thar till we call fer her! I reckoned that shot
would scare the Bighorns, but it hasn’t ; they must be
a green bunch that haven’t ever been hunted,’ he said,
looking around the corner.

“Sure enough; the rocks screened us, and the ram
had merely shifted his position, while the whole bunch
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 251

were now picking at the tufts of grass back of the
rocks. J was in no mood for hunting; but Joe took it
for granted that we should go on, and the excitement
soon put the Bear out of mind.

“ Before dusk. we had killed our ram, but.as he rolled
and fell for some distance down the cliffs one horn was
broken off and the other, that lies there on the mantel-
shelf, is the only trophy you can have of the day when
your father was nearly turned into Bear meat!”

“Oh, daddy! daddy!” cried Dodo, jumping on his
knee and hugging him, “what should we have done
if the Bear had eaten you?”

“Tt was before you and Nat had come to live with
me. I haven’t taken so many risks since I have had
two little bears of my own to care for.”

“Was the mutton good, and did you get it back to
camp, and did the other men get any Goats?” asked
Nat.

“Yes, we took the best parts of the ram back to the
main camp, also the skin of the Grizzly. Our comrades
did not get anything that day, though they did later
on, and I also have a single Goat horn as a souvenir to
match my ram’s horn. Hand them to me, Nat.”

Nat stood on a chair and reached the two horns from
the shelf. One was fifteen and one-half inches around
at the base and three feet long on the outside of the
curve, rough and yellowish gray, while the Goat’s
horn was smooth, black, and only eight inches in
length. ;

“You see that these two horns are hollow, from a
little way above their base to the tip, like the horns
of a Buffalo or cow. These are true horns and are
252 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

worn by the animal for life, unless accident breaks
them off. They are made from a fibrous material akin
to hair, and cannot be separated from the head without
making a bleeding wound; as a straight branch grows
from a tree, if it is broken a scar is left and the sap
runs out.

“The antlers of Deer are not made of this fibre, but
of solid bone. They sprout from the head of the male
Deer in the spring, as a leaf bud does from a twig.
At first they are soft and tender as the young leaf is.
Then they grow and expand in different shapes, each
according to its kind, some being simple and others
many-pointed, like ferns. All the summer they grow
harder and harder, until in autumn and early winter
they are ripe and fall off as the leaves do, leaving
a little scar through which the next year’s antlers
sprout.

“There is one animal that you will hear about soon,
whose horns are stepping-stones between the hollow
horns and the solid antlers. This is the Antelope, who
belongs to the Deer branch of the meat family, and
like other Deer sheds its pronged horns, which are still
partly hollow like those of a cow.”

“What do you call them if they are half horn and
half antlers?” asked Rap.

“The Wise Men call them prongs, and sportsmen
give the Antelope the name of Pronghorn.”

Meanwhile Mr. Blake was unfastening a little orna-
ment that hung to his watch-chain, which he handed to
Dodo, saying, —

“Here is something I found the other day that I
thought was lost. Guess what that is, little daughter.”
THREE HARDY MOUNTAINEERS 253

“Tt’s a long, very big dog tooth,” said Dodo, looking
carefully at the yellow bit of gold-capped ivory in her
pink paln.

“Wrong; it is a tooth of the Grizzly that didn’t bite

1

me.
XVITI
ON THE PLAINS

REPARATIONS for the Christmas
party were keeping everybody busy
at the farm. Many mysterious
boxes and bundles kept arriving
from the city, but Dr. Roy had in-
sisted that the young folks should
make some of the gifts with their
own hands. Olive, who was very
deft with her fingers, had little
trouble in devising pretty and
useful things, but with Dodo and Nat it was a different
matter.

A fine, warm flannel gown was under construction
for Rap’s mother ; a like one, only of a gayer pattern,
was already finished for Mammy Bun — that is, all but
sewing on the buttons. Mrs. Blake had cut out the
various garments, Olive doing the making, assisted in
straight seams and easy places by Dodo, to whom sew-
ing was a very solemn business. In fact, she held her
needle as tight as if she expected it to jump out of her
fingers, and tugged at the thread as if it had the strength
of a clothes-line,—a habit that caused many knots,
broken ends, and, I must confess, tears.

“T think Nat ought to sew and help us; he isn’t
254







ON THE PLAINS 255

making anything,” she had said one day after putting
her mother’s patience, and a seam that would pucker,
to a severe trial.

“Phoof ! men never sew,” he said contemptuously,
“they leave such easy work to girls!”

“What is that I hear?” said the Doctor from behind
his newspaper. “Men never sew? That is a great
mistake, young man. Men are not ordinarily obliged
to cut and make their clothes, but a man should most
certainly know how to use a needle. If he is a doctor,
he must be able to sew up wounds and fasten bandages
neatly. In any profession he is apt to find buttons
missing, even if modern shirts are put together with
studs; while as a woodsman, traveller, or engineer, such
as you wish to be, he is in constant need of a stout
needle and thread ; a tent cover rips, a gun case is
torn, thorns cut the clothing. A man may not sit
down in the wilderness and wait for a woman to come
by with thimble and scissors.

“T think it will be an excellent thing, Nat, for you
to learn to sew, and you can begin at once by putting
the various buttons on these wrappers and aprons. |
will teach you how myself.” ‘“ Very well, I will,” said
Nat, remembering that he and Rap were planning to
make a tent in the spring; “but you needn’t teach me,
uncle, any one can sew on buttons.”

“Very few people can sew on buttons properly,”
corrected the Doctor, “that is, buttons on men’s
clothing that will button and stay buttoned. I know
a charming young lady who sews beautifully, but when
it comes to buttons she fastens them down so flat and
tight to the cloth, that the poor button-holes gape and
256 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

make faces in trying to swallow them, and often do not
succeed at all. One of the button-holes in my over-
coat is suffering from a strained jaw now !”

Olive laughed and blushed at this, saying that it really
was not so very easy to give the button a nice little neck
of thread to hold it and yet make it strong and fast.

“Double thread, four times through, and wind four
times round the neck is my receipt,” said Dr. Roy.

So this is how it came about that Nat was sitting
tailor fashion on the wolf skin facing the campfire,
sewing on buttons, the Saturday before Christmas,
having borrowed Mammy Bun’s thimble, which he
wore on his thumb.

“It’s my turn again to choose,” said Dodo, going to
the portfolio ; “but won’t you please help me, Uncle
Roy? I want to find one of those animals with the
between horns, that are hollow like a cow’s and yet fall
off like a Deer’s!”’

“The Antelope, you mean. Turn a little further
over —there is a head of a Prongbuck?! (as the males
are called), showing the horns, and here is a picture
with the doe and fawn being chased across the plain by
a Coyote, while the Prairie Dogs watch nervously from
the doors of their holes, wondering when this little
brother of the Wolf will turn his attention to them.
This picture is quite a drama in itself, and we only need
add one more character to have a group of plainsmen
about whom books of stories could be written. Stop,
there is the picture that I wish, —the Badger.

“Tf you think a moment about the animals of our
stories, you will remember that they have almost all

1 See page 300.






DRAMA OF THE PLAINS.

Prairie Docs. ANTELOPE. CoYorTr.
ON TILE PLAINS 257

lived in or about woods or thickets of some nature, and
that they have been chiefly lovers of darkness — night
hunters — the Buffalo and Jack Rabbit being the great
exceptions. Now we have come to some fourfoots
who, like those two, also prefer the open plains.
Naming them in order of size they are the Antelope or
Pronghorn, the Coyote, the Badger, and the . Prairie
Dog, who even to-day carry on the drama of the plains
in spite of the onward march of two-footed settlers.

“Three of these four animals live and feed in the
open light of day, the Badger alone being a night
prowler. Two, the Badger and the Prairie Dog, sleep
the winter sleep, having homes deep under the ground.
Two, the Pronghorn and Coyote, are always watching
and awake, always alert, living wherever their food is
to be found. ‘This drama is not a comedy, it is a pout
grand chain, hands-all-round.

“The Pronghorn is a cud-chewer, therefore a vege-
table eater and no cannibal; but the Coyote eats the
Pronghorn, Prairie Dog, and Badger (when he can catch
him), as well as our old friend, the Jack Rabbit. The
Badger also eats the Prairie Dog, as well as Rats, Mice,
Gophers, and other nuisance animals, yet the Prairie
Dog is the only one of the four who increases beyond
the possibility of counting, and stretches his villages
from the home of the Peccary in Texas to the land of
the Varying Hare.”

“Do they build houses?” asked Dodo. “These in
‘the picture seem to be sitting by little holes on top of
ant-hills, that look exactly like the tips of the volcanoes
on your raised map in the wonder room.”

“They do not build,” said the Doctor; “they dig

8
258 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

houses in the ground, after the fashion of their cousin,
the Woodchuck. But the Prairie Dogs are very sociable,
living in great underground villages, sometimes twenty
or thirty miles long. We may see the doors of their
homes easily enough, where they sit hunched like little
old women, with their arms wrapped in shawls, yet quite
alert, like all of the Squirrel family to which they be-
long. But they never invite us inside, or even give us
a glimpse of the miles and miles of underground pas-
sages that run so deep, that I have often wondered if
this little beast might not sometimes burrow down to
water, for though they often live near creeks and in
river bottoms, they also seem to be content quite out
of reach of visible water at least.

“Deep as the passages may be, the Badger knows
how to dig down to them, and readily captures this
Prairie Squirrel, with its grizzled brown coat and Mar-
mot’s face. Though called Prairie Dog, there is not a
point of resemblance between this vegetable eater and
the meat-eating dog, except it is in its cry, —‘ Yap —
yap — yap !’ — which is between a yelp and a bark.

“ Cleanly in its habits and rather prettily furred, this
fourfoot is a prince among mischief makers, and is a
fine illustration of an animal who is becoming not only
a nuisance, but a real danger to crops, because of the
necessary disturbance of the great balance wheel.”

“What wheel was that? I forget about it,” said
Dodo.

“T remember,” said Nat; ‘‘the balance wheel is what
Uncle Roy called ‘The Plan of the World,’ where
things were arranged so that every animal and plant
should be food to some other one, and there shouldn’t
ON THE PLAINS 259

be too much of anything. But by and by House
People had to meddle, and without thinking much
about it killed off some things, and then the others
grew too many, because there was no one to eat them !”

“That is rather a mixed way of putting it,” laughed
Dr. Roy, “but we understand what you mean, which
is something.

“The Prairie Dog eats not only grass, but grass
roots also, and as soon as they have eaten all within a
certain distance of their homes, they move on, burrow-
ing fresh villages, leaving bare, barren ground behind
them, only to lay waste fresh grazing ground.

“Before the Buffaloes had left and farm cattle
roamed over the plains, and wheat fields made green
seas of the prairies, the natural enemies of the Prairie
Dogs held them in check. But the farmer was more
angry with the Coyote, Fox, and Badger than with the
seemingly harmless Prairie Dog, and turned his atten-
tion to them, until he found that it was much worse to
have his pasture eaten than to lose a few calves and
lambs—and now the war wages fiercely in the grazing
and wheat lands.

“You may take a rifle and play ‘catch as catch can,
until the gunpowder runs out of the heels of your boots,’
like the people in the nursery jingle; but it is more
often ‘catch as catch can’t’? when you undertake to
rout a Prairie Dog town.

“TJ have often sauntered through one of their villages,
stick in hand, merely to see what they would do. They
were as usual on the watch, each one close to his door.
Very likely a Burrowing Owl, living in some abandoned
hole of the dogs, would drop me a quaint bobbing cour-
260 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

tesy as I passed, after a fashion of its own. Perhaps I
would see a sand-colored rattlesnake disappear in one
of the mounds, probably to make a meal and a visit at
the same time.

“ As I drew near every eye was uponme. If I raised
my arms or stick, amid a chorus of yelps, down the
Prairie Dogs would go into their holes, only to bob up
the next moment Jack-in-the-box fashion. It does not
seem to matter how they enter the holes. They can
turn a somersault down the slope that leads from the
door to the first gallery, and disappear backward, star-
ing all the while.

“ Curiosity is often as fatal to them as to big game.
Coyote knows this failing and. avails himself of it in
hunting them. You remember how the great Gray
Timber Wolves hunt in couples or in packs. Coyote
also follows this family habit. Two start out from a
den or lounging spot in the side of a butte or coulie.”

“ What is a butte?” asked Dodo.

«“ A butte is a sort of cliff of sandstone, that rises
sharply from level ground. They are the landmarks
of the plains and often take beautiful or fantastic
shapes, like church spires or castles. Some buttes are
bare and arid, some are dotted with clusters of pine
trees. A coulie is a cut made by creek or river.

“Ag I said before,” continued the Doctor, “two
Coyotes start out to see what they can pick up, sniffing
about here and there like the vagabond wild dogs they
are. If they find the carcass of some large animal, left
by Wolves or human hunters, they will gorge them-
selves contentedly upon it, for they are the Jackals of
our country and revel in carrion. If, however, they
ON THE PLAINS 261

meet with nothing of this sort, they sit down like a
couple of House People deciding upon a plan of action,
and look about the country in all directions.”

“Do they look for what they want? I thought all
fourfoots followed scent the most,” said Rap.

“ With the beasts of woods and thickets, smell is the
keener sense of the two; but with the animals who have
been adapted to living in the open, sight is better de-
veloped.”

“ Of course,” said Olive, “I can understand that, for
you cannot see far in the woods, while there are fewer
things in the open country to hold the scent.”

‘Our Coyotes see in the distance some Prairie Dogs
sitting at the mouths of their caves; they interchange
signals. One Coyote starts off on a lazy trot; the
other remains sitting. The first Coyote does not
hurry, however, but goes in a careless way toward the
village, and soon his companion may be seen following
him. Singling out a particular dog, the leader passes
it slowly, but without pausing. Down drops the
Prairie Dog into its hole as if shot. In a moment
his curiosity overcomes his fear. He peeps out, sees
the Coyote moving off, and so resumes his doorstep
watch, still eying the enemy.

“The moment he takes his place he is snapped up by
Coyote number two, who has followed, all unseen, in
the footsteps of number one. This is of course if all
goes well, and no neighborly Prairie Dog has given a
warning ‘Yap |’

“Some spring morning our Coyotes may fancy veni-
son for breakfast, and think that nothing would taste
better than a young Antelope. Again they scan the
262 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

plain, slinking along cautiously behind such scant shel-
ter as they can find, or lying flat on the ground if no
cover offers. In the distance a bunch of Antelope are
feeding, their pronged horns showing them to be chiefly
males, who would run too swiftly and fight too bravely
if the single pair of Coyotes should follow them.

“While the Coyotes are planning and plotting, let
us cross the plain and look at these Antelopes, who
were once, next to the Buffalo, the most plentiful of
our big game animals, even now holding out bravely
against great persecution, which if it cannot be stopped
will, in another ten years, surely drive them out of
existence.

“The Buffalo may thrive for a time in confinement,
but the Antelope does not, for he misses the Buffalo
grass of his native plains.

“The Pronghorn is a compact animal, with more the
shape of a Bighorn than of his cousin the Deer. He
measures three feet to the shoulder, has a short body,
and is very easy to identify, first by the black horns
with double prongs that grow just above and between
the large, deep brown eyes, next by the neck bands of
brown and white, then by the white rump, the straw-
like hair of the back being dun color, like the coat of
a Jersey cow. The eyes of the Antelope are of won-
derful size and brilliancy, and they are among the
keenest eyed of our fourfoots. The doe (as the female
is usually called in the Deer family) does not wear
horns.

“The twin horns of the little male fawns begin to
grow when they are four months old, and are shed in
midwinter or early spring, but the old bucks usually
ON THE PLAINS 263

lose theirs in autumn, at the end of the year’s growth
and good grazing. When the time comes that the old
horn is ripe it drops off. If you could look at it, you
would find it hollow half-way up, and see how it fitted
over the bony core from which it grew, and which is
a part of the animal’s skull. Then you would see the
point of the soft new horn sprouting.”

“Why do Deer have to shed their prongs and horns?”
asked Nat.. “ What are they good for, and isn’t the
ground all prickly with them?”

“ They are the weapons with which the males fight
each other when they choose their mates. You have
seen that birds often quarrel in the mating season and
peck and fly at each other, and the fourfoots are much
more jealous and disagreeable, the larger ones, like the
Bears and Deer, often fighting terrible battles. Their
mating season is in the autumn, and when it is over
they have no further use for their weapons until the
new ones are ripe the next season.”

“Why don’t they need them to fight people and
other animals with?” asked Rap.

“They use them in self-protection sometimes, but
in fighting other animals they usually strike with their
hoofs and are able to deal very powerful blows. One
of the ways in which the Deer family kills rattle-
snakes is to spring suddenly upon them with their four
feet close together.

“The Pronghorn has its winter and summer ranges
like the Buffalo. In summer, unless drought turns the
coarse grass into hay, they fare well; but in winter the
poor Antelope huddle together in such shelter as they
can find, and if snowed in, not having snow-shoe feet to
264 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

travel toward better feeding grounds, they must freeze
and starve if thoroughly snowbound. Why we do not
find more of the cast-off prongs or antlers onthe
grounds, is a hard question-to answer. Indians say
because sometimes the animals paw up dirt and bury
them, but it is probably because the great army of
nuisance animals gnaw them for food.

“The Antelope fawns, one or two in number, are
born in middle or late spring, and stay in grassy nooks
under slight shelter for a few days, after which they
follow their mothers. This is a time of peril for both
fawn and doe. While the fawns are too feeble to run
about, they are comparatively safe, but as soon as they
come out in plain sight the eyes of the Coyote world
are upon them, and the does often lose their lives in
striving to protect them. Then there are winged ene-
mies also, —the great golden war Eagles, who swoop
down and seize the fawns easily, and are often a match
for fully grown bucks, disabling them first by picking
out their eyes.”

“Do Antelopes only live in the far West? Were
there never any near here?” asked Dodo.

“ They have never been found east of the Mississippi,
but they once ranged all the way from the Saskatche-
wan country down to prickly Peccary land, both in the
green prairie, foothills, and dry, cracked alkali plain,
where rattlesnakes and horned toads were their com-
panions. Now domestic sheep have taken their sum-
mer ranges on the bare slopes of the foothills, as the
range cattle have replaced the Buffalo, and the great
tribe is broken into detached groups, scattered here
and there through half a dozen states.”
ON THE PLAINS 265

“ T should think the Coyotes and Foxes could surely
find the baby Deer when they were hidden in the
bushes,”’ said Rap.

“So you would imagine, but when the fawns are very
small they are said to have‘no odor by which they may
be tracked, and if -their mothers scent harm for them
they give a bleating call, and the obedient children
flatten themselves close to the earth and are hidden
from sight, in the same manner that the little grouse
disappear at their mother’s cluck. As soon as they
are old enough to have strength in their legs, the fawns
cease hiding, taking to their heels when alarmed —
and how a Pronghorn runs when it chooses! The
fully grown Antelope can outrun a race horse for a
certain distance, and though they cannot jump as far
upward as other Deer, they can cross a great space on
a level, and even the little ones bound over the ground
as swiftly as Rabbits.”

“J should think if they ran so fast and could see so
far, hunters could never catch them,” said Rap.

“Tt is a difficult matter in broken and treacherous
ground, but their curiosity makes it possible. To chase
Antelope on horseback at full speed over the plains is
dangerous work ; at any moment a horse may step into
a Badger or Prairie Dog’s hole, break his leg, and give
the rider a bad fall. But sometimes a herd, on seeing
a horseman, will run a little way, then all wheel round
and gaze at him before starting once more, which lets
him gain time.

“There was a way of attracting Antelope, called sig-
nalling, by waving a flag on a pole. On sight of the
waving object, the curiosity of the animals was excited
266 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

and they came up to look, but it only attracted Ante-
lope who had not been hunted before, and they are now
growing too shy to be deceived by it. Then, in addi-
tion to the protection of their coloring when lying down
and their own wonderful eyesight, the Pronghorns have
danger signals of their own, added to various cries.
When alarmed, they can raise the hair on the rump
until it looks like a huge white chrysanthemum, being
visible from a great distance.

_“ Now while we have been talking about the habits of
the Antelope, what have our pair of Coyotes planned ?

“They have sneaked along until they have discov-
ered a doe, grazing alone and followed by a fair-sized
fawn. After taking the lay of the land the Coyotes
separate, one going over a bit of rising ground to the
left and the other creeping directly towards its prey,
for you must understand that Coyotes, though swift
runners, cannot overtake an animal like the Antelope
except by forming a partnership of two, three, or four,
spreading out along the runway and chasing in relays
—one starting when another gives out, until their
victim is quite spent.

“The doe starts to run, the fawn keeping by her
side, its legs striking out awkwardly. On they go for
a mile or so gayly enough, the doe gradually turning to
the left toward an accustomed track, her white back
bristling in alarm, like a warning cry of ‘ Wolf’ to any
of her tribe who may heed. Now very soon the fawn
begins to lag and the Coyote gains upon them. The
doe is prepared for this, and gradually drops behind,
keeping the fawn in front of her. One minute more
and as the Coyote strives to pass and seize the kid, he
ON THE PLAINS 267

will receive a stunning blow in the head from those
rocklike hoofs. ‘Then the pair will be safe, unless they
are too tired to escape the second Coyote who is waiting
to head them off a little further on. But if the second
Coyote should arrive on the scene before the first is
disabled, struggling is useless, and the little Wolf
brothers will have the venison breakfast that they
coveted.”

“You said the Badger holes were dangerous for
horsemen. Do Badgers live with the Prairie Dogs?”
asked Dodo. “The Badger in this picture is very
funny —he looks very silly, and as if he wanted to
sneeze and couldn't! ”

‘“« Badgers make their homes near Prairie Dog towns
or at wood edges. These burrows are very curious
affairs too. They go down fully six feet, then separate
into galleries that lead to different rooms, the master of
the house occupying the largest, deepest apartment all:
by himself. They are clean beasts, too, and keep their
quarters very neat. Foolish as the Badger looks, he is
a fierce foe, and it is a plucky dog or beast of any kind
who can rout him from his hole.

“The Badger is about two feet from nose to tail,
which is rather short; the body is broad and flat, the
skin thick and tough, the back and fore legs as strong
as iron. It has a pointed nose, keen black eyes, and a
white stripe running from its nose over its head to the
shoulders. The general color of its winter fur, which
is three inches long, is a frosty gray. We say of a man
who has peculiarly white-tipped hair, ‘He is gray as a
Badger.” The summer fur is less brilliant, being yel-
lowish and faded. The Badger’s chief claims to fame
268 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

are his long, cruel claws, used both as tools and weapons,
which, combined with his sharp teeth, make him an
animal to be attacked cautiously. Both back and front
feet have five strong toes set well in the flesh, armed
with claws that make the Badger a veritable steam







BADGER.

shovel for digging. Once give him ever so small a
start and he can burrow faster than anything can
follow him. Or let him back into his hole, bracing
his hind feet, and any Dog, Fox, or Coyote who tries to
draw him out will be torn, bitten, and most likely have
his throat cut.”

“ Are Badgers good for anything but to keep down
ON THE PLAINS 269

nuisance animals?” asked Rap, getting up reluctantly,
for he was obliged to go home early that night.

“ Yes, paint and shaving brushes are made from their
stiffer tail-hairs, and their pelts have a small value in
the fur market.”

“Tve finished my last button,” said Nat, jumping
up as Rap closed the door; “but my fingers are all
cramped.”

“JT should think they would be,” said Olive, “sit-
ting all in a heap and pushing the needle with your
thumb. The buttons look very nicely, though, don’t
they, father ?”

“Yes, and you see they all have nice little necks, and
the button-holes do not make faces when they swallow
them,” added Nat, proudly.

“ The last present is finished — now comes Christmas
and the tree!” cried Dodo, clapping her hands. ‘“ May
we open our bank and see if we have enough money to
buy the bird book for Rap? You said we might when
the sewing was all done. Yes; here it is, I hid it in
the wolf skin to have it all ready. Oh, what a lot of
pennies, anda gold dollar! Who put that in, I wonder?
It was you, daddy, I can tell by the way the end of
your nose winks! Do count for me, Olive, the pennies
slip so!”

“Four dollars and fifty cents,” said Olive, after
counting twice over.

“Hurrah!” shouted Nat, “the book Rap wishes only
costs three dollars and fifty cents, so we can buy him a
big box of real city candy too!”

?
XIX

UNDER THE POLAR STAR



<~\ UCH wind and threatening
\\ weather, then two days
of falling snow that
-- buried the fences, and
at last the northwest
wind sent the clouds
scurrying, and bright
sunshine returned with
the day before Christ-
mas.

“It is like the pictures in a fairy story; do look at
the trees and the top of the rose arbor!” said Dodo
that Friday morning, as she rubbed a peep-hole in the
frost on the dining-room window. “Rod is breaking
the road up the hill, and all you can see is the top of
his head, and Tom and Jerry step in up to where their
blankets are strapped. It’s lucky we had the Christ-
mas tree cut down and waiting in the shed before the
snow came.”

“Tt isn’t in the shed,” said Nat, mischievously, com-
ing in with dancing eyes and a very red, cold nose, the
only parts of his face that could be seen between his
muffler and cap brim.

“Oh, where is it?” wailed Dodo. “Do you think

270
UNDER THE POLAR STAR Q71

any one has stolen it— was there any trail in the
snow?”

“Yes, some one has dragged the tree out; I saw the
footprints and marks of the branches !”

“Do let’s go and tell Uncle Roy, or it will be too
late to cut another.”

“Nat is teasing you,” said Olive. ‘ Father and Un-
cle Jack are the thieves, for I see them dragging the
tree round to the camp now.”

Bang! went the door, and the dining room was empty.

The tree touched the ceiling and was fastened to a
beam with wire to keep the top steady, while the stand
that held it was so prettily covered with moss and pine
needles that it looked quite like the ground where the
spruce grew. Pine knots would have been the proper
lights for a camp Christmas tree, but Dr. Roy was so
afraid of setting the old dry beams afire, that he ob-
jected even to candles, and so Mr. Blake had sent to
the city for a number of tiny electric lights that would
twinkle in safety.

Nat and Dodo helped twine the beams with ever-
greens and hang the decorations on the tree, but no
more. They would not for worlds have peeped.at even
the corner of a present, they were so fond of being sur-
prised. In spite of the temptation to go outdoors, they
were too much excited to care for making snow houses,
or throwing snowballs, and kept in a perfect fidget un-
til three o’clock, the hour when Rod was to take the
big sleigh to the depot to meet the party from the

mountain.
272. FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“They are coming, they are almost at the corner, for
I can hear the bells!” cried Dodo. ‘Now they’ve
stopped !”

“They are waiting for Rap and his mother, you know
the sleigh was to call for them. Here they are!”
shouted Nat, dashing down to the gate,— “that is,
all but Toinette !”

Sure enough she had not come. “Got bashful at
the last minit,” said Nez; “allowed she’d better stay
home and keep house along with her brother who’s
winterin’ with us, but they’re goin’ over to the Ridge
to-morrer to keep Christmas Canady style with some
country folks 0’ theirn. Reckon they'll see their Christ-
mas candles in church!”

This was a very long speech for Nez, and he imme-
diately retired to the barn with Rod, looking as if
he was afraid of a real house with carpets and cur-
tains.

Olaf took some oddly shaped parcels from the bottom
of the sleigh and carried them to the stoop, driving
Phonse and Dominique in front of him like a pair of
balky geese; but they soon felt at home and began to
talk when they had been introduced to the dogs and
saw Mammy Bun preparing supper.

“T think those long bundles look as if they might
hold show-shoes,” said Nat to Olive; ‘but what is
in that green bag, I wonder?”

“T have brought my fiddle,” said Olaf, as if in answer
to Nat’s question. ‘Your father said to me: ¢ Olaf, I
have a banjo; bring your fiddle and we will make music
together.’ ”

Olaf often spoke slowly, as if he thought in his own
UNDER THE POLAR STAR 278

tongue and turned the words to English as he said them,
yet always using good language.

The children began the entertainment of their guests
by showing them everything on the farm, from Sausage
up, and had only half explained the wonder room when
the bell rang for tea.

“The little boys have brought funny knit nighties
and nightcaps with red tassels,” whispered Nat to Dodo,
as he returned from showing the Brownies— as Olive
called them — their room and had helped unwind some
of their wrappings.

Supper was a rather mixed, but very merry, meal.
Olive had difficulty in keeping Dodo from asking the
Brownies why they preferred fingers to forks, while
Mr. Wolf and Quick saw instantly that something
unusual was in the air and roved about the table try-
‘ing to snatch scraps, something that they had never
before dreamed of doing. But then if Christmas comes
but once a year, having a party of two Brownies, a real
live woodsman, and a Fin who knows a Dream Fox, is
rarer yet.

The men went out in the clear starlight for a breath
of air and to smoke their pipes. Rap’s mother helped
Mammy Bun in washing dishes and making the kitchen
neat, so that by eight o’clock everything was in order
for the march upon Camp Saturday.

“Tsn’t it nice?” said Dodo to the Brownies; “ eight
o'clock is go-to-bed-time on common nights, but Christ-
mas eve it is the very beginning, for daddy says we
may stay up until ten! ”

The Brownies, however, did not understand much
about time, for they usually went to bed whenever it

T
274. FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

grew dark. While they all stood waiting for the sign
to be given for opening the camp door, a scream came
from Mammy Bun, who was already inside.

“For de lan’ sakes, Massa Doctor, come hyar right
smart! Billy Coon, he am in der tree eatin’ eberyting !
I tink he hab bit one o’ dem fancy lights, shor’ nuff!”

The waiting procession immediately stampeded.
Fortunately the tree was fastened at the top, or Billy’s
fat body would have overturned it and wrought dire
mischief. As it was, he had only eaten a few lady
apples and a candy cane, so he was driven into a far
corner, where he sat devouring a string of popcorn that
caught round his neck, for the Brownies were delighted
to see their old friend, and the children all begged that
he might not be banished.

The tree lights twinkled in earnest, and made such a
blaze that the Brownies blinked, and an hour was spent
in exploring the branches of the tree after the ground
had been gleaned of the larger gifts. If this was not
a story of fourfoots, I would tell you all about the
presents, —the names of the bicycles that Olive, Nat,
and Dodo received, of Rap’s bird book, Mrs. Blake’s
soft sealskin jacket, the Brownies’ toys, Olaf’s carved
pipe, and Nez’ knife that had a blade for everything
and one extra. JI must not even whisper about these
things, except to say that the snow-shoes were there ;
but hurry to the story that Olaf told as he gazed from
the tree to the campfire, listening now and then, as if
his words came from the wind outside.

“Who shall choose the pictures to-night?” asked
Olive. “It is Dodo’s turn to-morrow, but this is an
extra evening.”
UNDER THE POLAR STAR 275

“Let Olaf choose for himself,” said the Doctor.
“He has a story in mind and knows what he needs to
illustrate it.”

Olaf took six pictures from the portfolio; the first
three were of a Polar Bear, a Caribou, and the Musk
Ox, a shaggy, brown beast with drooping horns, that
looked half sheep and half Buffalo. The other three
were of Sea Lions, Seals, and a Walrus.

“They are all strange, far-away, cold country ani-
mals,” said Rap; “just the right sort for a winter
story.”

“Mine is a tale of ice and snow, long nights and
short days, of a country whose north border sleeps in
the twilight a third of the year, —if it were not so the
people would be sightless from the snow blindness, —
a land of hunger and cold, of sore famine, and then
brutal hunting. We may call this place Fur Land,
and it lies under the Polar star and is the place where
the white Bear rug and sealskin jacket are at home.”

“Please, Olaf,” interrupted Dodo, “if you know
about this far-away, cold country, can you tell if the
Reindeer that Santa Claus drove have any American
cousins, and why children never see him driving over
the roofs or coming down the chimneys any more?”

“Yes,” said Olaf, hesitating a moment; ‘those Rein-
deer have cousins living with us. They are called the
Caribou, and grow of two varieties, — one short-legged
and stunted, that tracks the treeless Barren Grounds,
and the other here pictured, the Woodland Caribou.
But ‘why do children no longer see the good Santa
Claus?’ That question has a sad, sad answer, coming
from unfair hunting, which drives so many fine things
276 -FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

out of this land. Think you Saint Nicholas will bring
his magic Deer here for men to shoot with their long-
reaching guns? He knows their cruel hearts too well,
and keeps away so that no man, pointing to a row of
antlers over his chimney-piece, may say, ‘ Those are



WooDLAND CARIBOU.

the horns of Santa Claus’ Reindeer; I myself shot
them all with a single bullet!’

“Come then, whistle to our Woodland Caribou to
take us to this Fur Land, but do not be impatient; he
has far to journey to us.

“He has his home in the woods, upon our northern
borders and on into the British Kingdom, as far as trees
UNDER THE POLAR STAR 217

grow to give him shelter. In summer he loves cool
marshes, where he feeds on plant roots and fresh tree
buds; in winter he journeys to high ground and paws
the snow away to find grass, moss, or lichens, so he is
always restless, moving about more than his stunted
brother of the Barren Grounds, and we must often look
far and wide to find him. Ah, he is a fourfoot built to
stand the cold, and shod for snow striding! Look at
his picture. See the strange antlers, both palmed and
tined, branching downward as gnarled old trees, no two
pairs growing quite alike. Even the female Caribou,
or, as she is called in this tribe, the cow, wears small,
spiked horns. See his long, stout hair that makes a
thatch like straw to keep the wet and cold out of his
undercoat. He is not pretty, this Caribou; ah, no! his
face and neck look faded, and he is at best a dingy sort
of brown with a lighter colored rump. His tail is lined
with white, and, when raised, becomes his signal flag of
danger. See the foot gear he wears; is it not wonder-
ful? Two hoofed, spreading toes, curved inward, with
two more behind, all edged with stiff hairs. When he
plants his feet his hind legs bend toward the ground,
making long snow-shoes such as no other deer wears.
The palm-horned Moose, the largest of our deer, sinks
in the snow, and after much running, falls exhausted.
The Elk, the king of all his tribe, has small, sharp-
edged hoofs; but this, the third from the largest, the
awkward Caribou, wears such snow-shoes that, if he
were tamed and trained, he too, like his Reindeer
cousin, would be a useful beast of burden in our bleak,
north country.

“He does not come; whistling will not bring him ;
278 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

we must go without him, for we cannot wait. Per-
haps, as he sheds his great antlers near Christmas time,
he feels shy and helpless. I will call the ‘ Day-Dream
Fox’ to guide us. Look well at the map while we are
travelling open eyed, for he leads the mind in minutes,
where it would take the feet long months to follow.

“Go up through our plains to the British countries,
where the great company of Hudson’s Bay catches
fur for half the world, and the Beaver, Otter, Sable,
Mink, Wolverine, and Silver Fox still flourish, —on
across Assiniboia and Saskatchewan. See, we find the
names of fourfoots everywhere: Bear Lake and Rein-
deer Lake, while curving from the Rockies toward
Hudson’s Bay we cross the Caribou Mountains.”

“Did you learn American geography when you went
to school ’way up in Finland?” asked Dodo, “or did you
learn it by walking over the country?”

“TJ learned a little even then, and much more after-
ward, and I have lived in this North Country for three
years. Beyond the Caribou Mountains we come to
Great Slave Lake, and from there up to the water’s
edge we are in the Barren Grounds. Barren of trees,
of everything but fiercest Wolves, the White Fox, Musk
Ox, Caribou, and a few grim Bears who wear changed
faces from their grizzly mountain brothers, through liv-
ing in this bare wilderness. This place is like a battle
ground, where Wolf kills Ox, Caribou, and Fox, while
the Indian, when he ventures up so far, kills all these
in turn.

“There I can fancy the Musk Oxen standing in a
herd of twenty or more, packed closely for defence,
frightened by scent of blood, as if wild dogs or Wolves




A

SK SSN


UNDER THE POLAR STAR 279

surrounded them. If it were spring, I should know
that the young calves were there inside the protecting
ring. What are they watching? One of their herd
in terror sniffs and paws the ground where a Wolf has
dragged some bleeding meat, like the ox in our picture.
This beast, though called an ox, is really more like a
great sheep, measuring over four feet at the shoulders.”

“ How is it more like a sheep?” asked Nat.

“The Wise Men say that its teeth are like a sheep’s,
and its feet like those of an ox,” said Dr. Roy, to help
Olaf, who knew what he had seen, but not so much
about the bones and building material of animals. “ He
has, you see, an ox’s nose, but his horns curve strangely
downward. His brown robe is longer and thicker than
the coat of any other of our fourfoots, quite covering
his short sheep’s tail. The hairy coat is almost two
feet long, while underneath, packed closely to the body,
is a fleece blanket that falls away in summer.”

“T see his funny, turned-in, hairy, snow-shoe toes,
and he has a bit of a Buffalo’s hump,” said Dodo, after
looking at the picture. “ How queer it is to find that
such strange beasts belong in our America!”

“Yes,” said Dr. Roy, “and, what is more, with the
exception of Greenland they live nowhere else but in
North America.”

“ Does the Musk Ox make good meat, like the Buf-

falo?” asked Rap.
_ “Oh, no, very poor meat, coarse and tough, with the
rank flavor of musk that gives this ox its name. Only
Wolves and starving Indians care to eat it. The skin
is tough and serviceable enough if you can get it off
without tearing.”
280 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

. “What does the Musk Ox eat?” asked Nat.

“ Moss, wiry grass, and lichens, a scanty living dug
from beneath the snow with the hooked horns, or scraped
up with the hoofs that do double service in digging and
helping the ox climb rocks, and also to run swiftly over
slippery ground. The cud-chewers fare poorly in the
Northlands. Where the prowling flesh-eaters can feed
upon each other, the grass-eaters often go hungry, and
all the beasts of the Barren Grounds are flesh-eaters,
save the Caribou and Musk Ox.

“Now we go further north and reach frozen sea edges.
Round these ice-clad borders prowl the Polar Bears,
following the ice downward as it creeps to open sea in
winter, and going north again in summer, seldom com-
ing twoscore miles inland, like the coast-loving Eskimo
himself.

«“ What is he made of, this great, clumsy, half-ton mass
of flesh, clothed in thick, yellow-white fur from nose tip
to point of claws? Clothed ?— no; padded is the better
word, for his long neck and small head grow from a
rolling bale of fur on legs. This White Bear sleeps on
ice and soaks in ice water, never dreaming of the cold.
Can he be warm-blooded flesh? But yes, he is. The
she Bears bring forth their young in icy caves and
harden their cubs to swim with them in icy seas, and to
follow their parents while they track and hunt down
their Seal and Walrus meat, or shuffle along the shores
to feed upon dead Whales.

“A great hunter is this Bear, quick of tooth and
claw; he stalks the Seals as men do, stealing behind
them when they come upon land, seizing them when
they turn to hide in their water-holes. Over all the


PotaR BEAR AND SEAL,
UNDER THE POLAR STAR 281

lands and seas of ice this Bear is king of fourfoots.
Of man, too, he was king, when man meant only the
Eskimo armed with a knife and spear. Then Bear
hunting was dangerous indeed,— blow for blow, tooth
against knife-blade, arm of muscle tipped with long
claws against brittle harpoon. Now a long-range rifle,
keen eyes, and a steady hand, have turned the peril
from man to Bear, and soon the great hungry beasts
will have left the Arctic twilight as the Bison left
the prairie. Snow may be her bed, but the she Bear’s
heart beats warm and lovingly for her cubs, — or rather
cub, for she usually has but one, —and she will let her-
self be killed before man or beast may touch it.

“Tramp, tramp, tramp, go the Bear’s feet through
the snow, leaving the even-planted print of heel and
toe, as a man’s foot does. Now follow them round
Hudson’s Bay, across the. north coast, turning south-
ward down Alaska. .Then crossing Behring Strait, go
on to where ice floes go through the chains and dots of
islands to the Pribilofs, where in summer there are no
nights and in winter moonlight is daylight, the islands
where the sealskin jacket lived when it was at home,
for I can guess that this jacket was once the covering
of three bachelor. Seals!”
XX
A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME

Cee oe now leave dry land, though
y- —_-when one follows the Polar
Bear over the caked ice,
who can tell if it is earth,
rock, or frozen water that
lies underneath.

LM jsp “The tribe of fin-footed
a
apes en on the frozen sea edges and
islands from Labrador around the north coast to the
Pacific Ocean. The Polar Bear spends the chief part
of his time on the land, going in fishing and swimming
for pleasure; but these watermen pass most of their
time in the water where their food is, floating with
drifting ice floes, and hauling up on the islands to rest
for a time in summer when their cubs are born.”

“Why do you say hauling up?” asked Nat. “ Haven’t
these beasts legs, and can’t they walk? In my spelling
book it says haul means to pull or drag.”

“Tt says rightly,” answered Olaf, “for these beasts
drag themselves when on land, and their legs are not as
the limbs of Deer or Bear, but flippers set deep in the
flesh, shaped half like the fins of a fish. To see them
it seems impossible that they should move at all, either

282


A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 283

in water or on land. Four kinds of these fin-footed
ones I know, for two of my three cold northern years
I lived where they are killed. Pah! it was a cruel
country, reeking with smells, and mine was a loathsome
living.

“These four watermen are named the Walrus, the
Sea Lion, the Sea Bear or Fur Seal, and the Harbor
Seal. Of these the Walrus is king, if size and ancient
name make royalty. Back in the legends of my coun-
try this ‘Whale Horse,’ as he was called, of the Atlantic
coast is pictured, and one was taken to good King
Alfred’s court by Othere, the Viking. What they
thought of it I do not know, but those were the days
when men believed the sea peopled with monsters and
saw mermaids riding on the waves, and fashioned the
Unicorn upon their shields from memory of that spike-
nosed Whale, the Narwhal, that they had doubtless
seen stranded upon some northern beach. But no
dream beast could match the Walrus in homeliness.

“Look at the picture of this lump of fat, flesh, and
bones — it is the giant of the coast, those on the Pacific
shore growing larger than their Atlantic brothers. Is
he not monstrously ugly? Twelve feet and more from
nose to rump, twelve feet and more in girth. The huge
wrinkled neck supporting a small head with small eyes
and two long tusk teeth, while the rough whiskers
on the snout look like seaweeds clinging to a water-
mossed rock. What has the beast to help him either
‘swim or walk? Four limbs so deeply sunk in flesh and
skin that you see only five-fingered hands, wearing skin
mittens. These serve well for paddles, and their owner
can rest almost upright in the water, floating easily, for
284 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

all about his chest and neck are layers of oily fat or
blubber, which make a life raft of him, while his thick,
tough hide, scarred with wounds from rocks, harpoons,
Bears’ claws, and the tusks of rivals, keeps him from
growing water soaked and chilly. He is warm blooded,
and yet able to stay under water half an hour at a time
without coming up to breathe.

“How does he feed this great body of his, and lay
up the layers of fat that draw his hide in creases like
seams in rocks? By digging clams and water roots,
scraping mussels and other shell-fish from the kelp beds
with his tusks, and he also uses these tusks as hooks to
help in pulling himself over the rocks and shoals of the
summer breeding-grounds.”

“ Why doesn’t he eat seaweed?” said Dodo. “I
should think it would be a great deal of trouble to
open clams enough to feed such a ’mense thing!”

“ All of this tribe of Pinnipeds, as the Wise Men call
them, live chiefly on animal food,” said the Doctor,
“their teeth showing them to be flesh eating or car-niv-
o-rows, but Olaf will tell you that they do not stop to
open the clams—they are not so dainty in their fish-
ing as the Crows!”

“No, they swallow them by the bushel, shells and
all,” continued Olaf. “If it hurts them or not, who
can say, for they tell no one their secrets, but it may
be that they are complaining when they ery and roar,
as they do at all times of the year, with a growling
honk that might be the call of a wild goose goblin.
Sometimes in the spring and early summer, the season
of cool fog on the northwest breeding islands, I have
stood on a cliff and could not tell by sight alone if it










ATLANTIC WALRUS.
A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 285

was ocean all about me —then I would hear their honk
below, different in key from the roar of the Sea Lion.”

“ Aren’t they awfully fierce beasts to meet?” asked
Rap.

“They look fierce, and when killed with spear or
harpoon may give the whaler or Eskimo some scars
or crush him by rolling their ton weight on him, in
their terror to get back from land to sea. But that
is all, and how can such a piece of clumsiness long es-
cape extermination if he is hunted persistently with
the rifle?”

“ Are they good for much?” asked Nat. ‘“ Of course
you couldn’t use that ugly skin to make fur coats, and
daddy says that the oil from wells in the ground is
easier to get nowadays than animal oil.”

“We could .do without them well enough, but they
mean food and clothes, heat, light, and life itself to the
poor Eskimos. Even with the Walrus, life to them is
not easy; without him it means awful, slow starvation.
Listen to what the Walrus gives. First of all, his
coarse meat is the Eskimos’ beef, their only change
from fish, for many of them live out of the range of
Bear meat and dare not venture through the Barren
Grounds for the Musk Ox. Walrus meat is eaten fresh
and also packed away as food, for all the year. Its oil
gives him light and fuel also in that treeless land.”

“Oh, then the Eskimos have oil stoves, the same as
we do!” cried Dodo. “I wonder if they make the
choky, smoky smell that the one does in daddy’s dress-
ing room ?”

“They burn the oil without the stove, and the smoky
smeil is very, very large,” said Olaf, spreading his
286 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

hands wide apart and wrinkling his face as if he re-
membered avery bad smell. ‘Next to the oil in value,
comes the hide. When it is stretched and well dried
it makes a fine cover for boats, that is stronger to stand
the sharp-edged ice than any wood could be; the hide
also serves to make harness for the Eskimo’s sledge
dogs. The strong sinews of the back make thongs for
bird and fish nets, boot laces, and thread for sewing
boat covers and clothes. The gullet or throat is used
for boot legs, with the flipper bottoms fitted on for
soles. The intestines, which are perhaps sixty feet
long, are cut in strips, and when stretched and dried
are sewn together to make the waterproof clothing that
these people wear in their fishing and hunting.”

“Oh, dear, how much the poor Eskimo women must
have to sew!’ murmured Dodo, “and what long seams ;
I’ve seen Mammy Bun take those wormy looking insides
out of a chicken, and even they were ever so long!”

“The tusks, though of a poor quality of ivory, serve
many purposes, not the least of them being to trade
away for such iron and steel articles as the Eskimo
needs but cannot make. Now you can well understand
how he could not live long without the beast that yields
him somuch. But greedy people, who have many other
ways to make a living, do not think of this, and fit out
steam vessels that can. go everywhere, with guns that
kill from far, and take from the Eskimo his all.

“This Walrus is a first cousin to the Sea Bear or
Fur Seal of the jacket, and we must go down the
Behring Straits to catch him in his home. Down past
the St. Lawrence and St. Matthew Islands, the Walrus’
summer haunts, we come to the Pribilof Islands, — St.
A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 287

Paul and St. George, — where I spent those two years
of much disgust !”

“ What does Pribilof mean?” asked Nat. “Tt sounds
as if it might be the Indian for pretty-far-off”; where-
upon Dodo laughed in great glee and said, —

“J shall always call those the Pretty-far-off Islands,
for it is a true name for them and much easier to
remember than the other.. I missed that last week in
my geography lesson !”

“ Pribylov was the name of the Russian explorer who
discovered this group which now belongs to us,” said
Dr. Hunter; “his ship the St. George giving the name
to one of the islands. These islands were too far off
shore for Indians to reach them, so that the Sea Bears
and Sea Lions lived there in peace until the coming of
civilized people a little more than one hundred years
ago, but since then the cry has been, ‘Mall! kill! kill!
—pbulls, cows, cubs, everything !’— the Buffalo’s story
again, but this time carried out to sea until the poor,
persecuted water brothers are the cause of dispute be-
tween nations, and it seems that soon nothing will be
left of them but the very bones of contention !”

“Wasn't it awfully cold on these islands, Olaf?”
asked Rap.

‘Not so. cold as on the mainland, far less cold than
you would think, for the warm Pacific current flows
around them. In midwinter, it is true, ice floes come
from the north and hush the song of the surf on the
beaches, yet it is not so keenly cold as it is here. With
June comes summer, for there are no half seasons like
your spring and fall. In winter there are no days, in
summer no nights.”
288 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Tt seems quite right, too,” said Nat, “for in a place
like that there can’t be many leaves to spring up and
fall down again.”

“Summer is the season of cool fogs and mists that
shield the Seals from the sun and keep them comfort-
able while on land. In fact, the summer weather is like
your autumn season.”

“Then it is no wonder, as one story says, that the
Seal tribe, ages ago, going from its Antarctic home ona
swimming excursion, should have found these islands a
pleasant camping spot and passed word of it to all their
relations,” added Dr. Roy.

“What do you call the people on these islands, Uncle
Roy ?” asked Nat — “‘ Eskimos or Indians?”

“ They are Aleuts, one of the lowest northwest tribes
of Indians and akin to Eskimos.”

“ Now,” continued Olaf, “picture to yourself a fine,
full-grown male Fur Seal as he comes up on the land
the-last of May to select the square of shore he wishes
for his summer home. He is not more than five or six
years old, which is the prime of Seal life. He is more
clever than the Walrus, moves more easily, and meas-
ures about seven feet from tip of nose to where his tail
would be, if it had not forgotten to grow. At this time,
fresh from the feeding-grounds, he is fat and should
weigh five hundred pounds. His head is small, but the
eyes large and speaking. He wears a long mustache,
but it is of bristles and not like that of the Walrus,
and he has a way of closing his nose and ears in swim-
ming to keep water out. The neck is long and the
shoulders are thick, and he is a better shape, not slop-
ing so much aft as the Walrus. His fore limbs are
A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 289

merely a pair of black gloved hands, but his hind feet
are wider, like a drawn-out human foot spread at right
angles from its body. He uses these fore flippers in
walking quite like legs, and, though he shuffles along,
does not cling and crawl like the Walrus.. His hind
flippers propel him through the water like paddles.





SrA BEAR orn Fur SEAL.

“The male wears two coats, like most fur beasts.
One of shining, strawlike over-hair, the other the soft
under-fur we see in jackets. At the first glance you
would say that this Seal is dark brown in color, with
some white or grizzly hairs. The female is much
smaller, not measuring more than five feet. She is less
clumsy and of more graceful shape. Her head is well
formed and she has gentle, lustrous eyes. Her skin,
when wet, varies in color from beautiful deep gray and

U
290 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

whitish underneath, to an ashy brown mantle and buffy
belly, when dry.

“ Wrom early May until the middle of June the Seals
come from their winter feeding-grounds and haul. upon
land. The males come first, each striving for the place
he likes best and fighting fierce battles with his rivals
to secure it. ‘Thus it happens that the strongest Seals
keep the best places near the water’s edge, and the
weaker are driven further inland.

“When the females come in late June or early July,
only a day or so before their cubs are born, there is
fierce war, each male Seal seizing the mates he wishes
to come and live in the square of ground he calls his
house, lifting them as if they were only so many kit-
tens. Thus it happens that those strong ones near the
shore secure a houseful, while those far up have hard
work to find even one mate. ‘Then there is always a
herd of roving bachelors, young Seals and those who
have no homes or mates, who go together in a separate
place to spend the summer. ‘The law holds that these
bachelors are the only ones that should be killed for
fur, and that no guns or dogs shall aid in their killing.
If this law had been kept, then would the tribe still
hold its own.

«The fur of this Sea Bear must be taken in June or
July, before the winter coat is shed, or in early autumn
when the new coat is fresh, for the law says these ani-
mals may not be taken on American ground between
October and June.”

“But suppose people follow them and kill them in
the water and shoot the females, too, — what happens
then?” asked Rap.
A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 291

“Trouble,” said Dr. Roy. “Trouble between nations,
unwise, angry words in the newspapers, and the killing
out of Seals!”

“Tf Seals may not be chased with dogs or shot at,
how are they caught?” asked Olive.

“They are driven up to the killing grounds, as pigs
or cattle are driven to the slaughter house!” said
Olaf, “and in this way it is done.

“The bachelor Seals, who are chiefly those under five
or six years old, live by themselves, and le near the
water and sleep soundly, but in the homes or rookeries
there is noise and tumult all night. These bachelors
sleep on the beach, one close to the other, like rows of
tiles upon a roof top. Down go the drivers, native
Islanders, and take their stand between the water and
the Seals, who, being awakened and seeing the men be-
tween them and the water, start landward, thinking to
escape, and so are driven up to the killing places near
the villages, where the Seal families will not be dis-
turbed by them.”

“Tsn’t it very slow walking?” asked Dodo.

“Yes, very; for though a Seal can run a few yards,
he can walk safely only half a mile an hour, and the
drivers must be careful not to hurry the Seals, or the
heat makes their fur drop off and spoils the pelt.”

“Tf a Seal is driven too fast he gasps and has to stop
and fan himself, for Seals have no sweat glands to cool
off the blood, and can only perspire by panting, like
dogs,” said Dr. Roy.

“Care must be taken not to kill very young Seals
also. A Seal’s skin is best when it is three or four years
old, after that it grows uneven and ragged. The pelt
292 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

is taken quickly, as soon as the animal is dead, lest it
heat and the fur loosens. Is it ready then to make a
coat? Ah, no; it must be dried and sent away for
skilful hands to pluck out the long rough hairs that
cover the soft fur, and then they dye this under-fur to
the soft color that you know, the color of that jacket
that has in it the pelts of three Seal bachelors. Of
the killing of the Seal I will not speak, only to say
that I could, not harden myself to it and so I came—
away.

“Meanwhile what happens in the rookeries? The
male Seals roar and fight among themselves, the young
are born, and the cows go daily to the sea for food,
sometimes staying all night and leaving the sucklings
hungry, for the cows are poor mothers, not caring much

“for their cubs. The males are brave, however, and
fight most fiercely to defend their homes. So jealously
are these homes guarded, lest any rival should touch
their families, that the males will not leave to go down
to the sea for their food, and so they stay on land and
starve allsummer. In the autumn, when housekeeping
is over, they are thin and wretched, having used up all
their fat, like the Bears at the end of winter.”

“How strange,” said Olive, “the Bear goes without
eating in winter and the Seal in summer ! ”

“They suffer greatly in hot weather,’ continued
Olaf; “you may see them lying on their sides fanning
themselves with their hind flippers, or find the females,
as soon as the young have learned to swim, sleeping in
the water with only their nostrils out. This habit of
floating and sleeping makes them an easy prey for
Sharks and the fierce Killer Whales. Even on land
SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 293

the Seal sleeps so soundly that I have crept up and
pulled his whiskers before he awoke. In August the
homes break up, all is in an uproar, and the ‘choo-choo-
choo’ call of the female sounds loud above the ‘surf,
though it is December before the last male has left for
the winter feeding-grounds.

“The Fur Seal’s brother, the Sea Lion, haunts these
same islands, though he is hunted elsewhere with Otter
spears and guns. He is useful chiefly to the natives of
the Aleutian Islands, giving them all that the Walrus
yields the Eskimo.

“The California Sea Lion looks much like a male
Seal, but his neck is straight and thinner and his front
flippers are cased in mittens without even a thumb,
while the Seal, you see by the picture, wears short-
fingered gloves. This Sea Lion wears no fur, but is
covered with short hair, which varies in color with the
season from yellow to dark brown. His voice is a deep
lion’s roar that can be heard above the storm, and his
food is almost lke the Seal’s,—fish, shell-fish, crabs,
and a few sea-birds. His flesh is not bad eating, and
the fat and blubber are without the evil smell that
makes the Seal so sickening to handle.

“This Sea Lion is shy, keener of eye and ear than
the Sea Bear, and must be hunted by moonlight, the
driving season being early autumn. When the Lions
awake suddenly, like the Seals they start to escape the
way they happen to face, some going seaward, the
others being slowly driven up to the villages, for they
can only creep and hobble along, and they have none of
the cleverness of the Fur Seal. These also we will
leave at the killing grounds; to follow them would only
294 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

sadden you. But we know at best they are useless to
us, and trouble the Fur Seals by worrying them and
disputing their breeding grounds, so the Aleuts are
welcome to them.

‘“‘ Another waterman there is that, even now, you may
see for yourselves some day about a rocky harbor or
river mouth. He wears hair and no fur, and he is the
true Seal, not the Sea Bear. He is, or was, common to





HARBOR SEAL.

all coasts, and has many names,—Sea Dog, Hair Seal,
Common Seal, or Harbor Seal.”

“Harbor Seal is the name that Wise Men prefer,”
said Dr. Roy; ‘and when my father was a young man
these Seals haunted the rocks of New York harbor in
great numbers. Robbins Reef, that we have so often
passed, Olive, was called after these Seals by Dutch
sailors, robyn meaning Seal in their language.”

“T knew not that,” said Olaf; “but in spring they
herd about Newfoundland, having their young in May
and June, but going to the warmer sea islands in
A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 295

winter. They are beautiful little Seals, with dull
yellow skins, often handsomely mottled with black,
such as they cover trunks with in my country; and
among the Greenlanders it is said the women love
the skin above all others for making trousers.”

“Do savage women there wear trousers, the same as
some women do here when they ride bicycles?” asked
Dodo, much to her uncle’s amusement.

“JT have not seen those savages here,” said Olaf;
“but up in the north land women must dress much like
men, or they would surely freeze.

“The Harbor Seal cow has a gentle, half-human face,
and a better heart than the Fur Seal. She is a kind
mother also to her single cub, protecting and loving it,
and grieving if it dies. These seals are shy beasts, too,
and are never caught in great numbers, even though
their flesh makes the best seal beef. They lead lonely
but happy lives, catching sea-birds and fishing and
sporting in the water with their families.

“ Now we will leave these watermen and hurry back
home across country lest the ‘Day-Dream Fox’ grows
sleepy and the real Dream Fox finds us far from home,
and we have to lie out in the snow like the Polar
Bear.”

Then Olaf blushed and looked down, as there was
a clapping of hands and everybody thanked him for his
story.

“Tt will be my turn to clap at you to-morrow night,”
he said bashfully to Nez.

“T didn’t think the watermen would be half so inter-
esting,” said Rap; “and it’s almost ten o’clock already.”

“We must light the tree once more, have our supper
296 _ FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

and songs, then to bed, and see who will wake first to
say ‘Merry Christmas’ in the morning,” said the Doctor.

Mr. Blake began to pick at his banjo and play a lively
jig, accompanied by Olaf with his fiddle. Instantly
Nat, Dodo, and the Brownies began to skip about, Nez
keeping time by slapping his knees.

“Let me have your violin, Olaf,” said Mrs. Blake.
“JT can play that tune, and I am sure that you can
dance a sailor’s hornpipe.”

_ Blushing up to the roots of his light yellow hair, Olaf
stepped into the space cleared for him, and danced all the
intricate in-and-out steps with a will. As he finished,
a slight noise turned all eyes toward the passageway,
and there was Mammy Bun doing side steps and a
double shuffle all by herself, in spite of rheumatism.
So the music ended in a shout of laughter, and Mammy
waddled off to bring some light supper, followed by
Nez and Olaf as waiters, while Mr. Blake threw a bas-
ketful of pine cones on the fire to make a final blaze.

“Now for our Christmas hymn,” said the Doctor,
when the dishes had been cleared away, the tree stood
in darkness, and only the firelight danced along the
walls and on the strange mixture of faces, — white,
black, and bronze.

Mrs. Blake went to the window and threw back the
curtains; the warmth had melted the frost on the
panes, and the starlight shone in clear and bright. Mr.
Blake took Olat’s violin and drew a few notes from it,
and then the hymn rang out, Mrs. Blake, Mammy,
Olive, Dodo, and the boys beginning, the Doctor and
Mr. Blake answering : —
A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME LOT

“Watchman! tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are.
Traveller! o’er yon mountain’s height
See that glory beaming star!”

The children’s voices warbled as sweet and fresh as
the notes of birds; even the Brownies caught up the
tune, though the words were unknown to them. As
they finished the last verse, Olive opened the long win-
dow softly and the snowy hills showed clearly in the
piercing starlight. Then she whispered, ‘“ Wish the
stars a‘ Merry Christmas,’ and let peace and happiness
in at the window! Mother taught me to do it when I
was a little girl.”

“Merry Christmus! Bress de chile! JZ remem-
bers!” cried Mammy Bun.

Then they went to bed, and Billy Coon, who had
been crouching behind the chimney and was entirely
forgotten, came out to forage for more popcorn.
XXI

HORNS, PRONGS, AND ANTLERS

,HRISTMAS was a perfect win-
ter’s day, with no wind and
no thawing; a day for sleigh,
sled, or snow-shoes. Snow-
shoeing being the very new-
est amusement, Olive, Nat,
and Dodo practised walking
for so long that at night their
feet were quite tired and swol-
len with their efforts to keep up and the cutting of the
thongs; so they were glad to hobble to their places by
the campfire as soon as supper was over. As to the
Brownies, the novelty and excitement of seeing so
many people quite overcame them, and they stumbled
from the supper table to bed.

“ What pictures will you choose?” said Dodo to Nez;
“because you promised to tell us a story to-night.”

“ A picture of a Moose! A good, big Moose on the
rampage will about do for my story,” answered Nez.

“ Here is one running very hard, with steam blowing
out of his nose,” said Rap; “but please, Nez, before
you begin the story, won’t you tell us about the dif-
ferent kinds of antlers that the Deer wear, and why,
298


HORNS, PRONGS, AND ANTLERS 299

if they are shed every year, some pairs are so much
bigger than others. I always used to think that the
antlers staid on, and grew bigger and bigger every
year.”

“ You've caught me there,” said Nez. “I know the
game I’ve shot and how I got it, and that Deer do shed
their horns; but you'll hev to ask the Doctor all those
reasons why.”

“This is as good a time as any to make a procession
of horns, prongs, and antlers, and look at them care-
fully as they go by,” said Dr. Roy. ‘Olive, please
take out the pictures of heads, horns, and antlers; also
the drawings of the Moose and the American Deer, and
the group of the Elks chased by the Cougar, that we
had several weeks ago, and also the Caribou picture
that we had last night. .

“You remember that the first division of the meat
family wore hollow horns like a cow’s, which were
made of hairy fibre and grew around a solid core, and
that, though they were of many sizes and curved in
different ways, they were never branched or divided.
Nat, can you tell me the names of our four wearers of
horns, without looking at the pictures?”

“Yes, I remember them all,—the Bison, Bighorn,
Mountain Goat, and the Musk Ox.”

“ Now, Dodo, do you remember the one which, though
it belonged with the Deer to the second division of the
meat family, had pronged, hollow horns, and shed them
every year?”

“Oh, yes; the one that you stepped on when you
went from one part of the family to the other — step-
ping-stone you called it; Antelope or Pronghorn is its
300

vee
EG

Mounrain Goat.





FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

name. See, I can put my finger on the
picture without looking at the print-
ing!”

“Bravo! Now we come to the Deer
family itself; all of its members wear
antlers of solid bone—bone with no
hollows in it, or marrow like the other
bones of the Deer. See how many dif-
ferent shapes we find among these antlers.
Look first at one thing—the enlarged
knot or burr where the antler branches
from the head.”

“ Yes, I see,” said Olive; “itis rough,
and swells out something like a joint.
It looks as if the antler were
fastened on there.”

“This is the place where
the old one separates when it
ripens and falls off, and where
the new antler sprouts.”

“Does it bleed and hurt
the Deer, the way it does to
have a tooth out?” asked
Dodo, who had recently shed
her two upper front teeth.

“That depends upon how
ready the antlers are to fall.
If they are quite dry and
ripe, they separate easily and
bleed very little; but if they
are knocked off by a blow,

Musk Ox. or torn from their sockets


~ scarcel ely bled





HORNS, -PRONGS, AND. ANTLERS B01

when the Deer lock. and entangle their antlers in fioht- -
~ ing, as they often do, then the stump bleeds profusely.
and ¢ auses pain. In either case a sort of plaster of
veins and thick skin soon grows over the wound.” Q
S These antlers . are the same as teeth, then,” said =.
- “Dodo, solemnly ; ‘one of mine tipped over itself and
at all or hurt, but the other had to be
jerked with a string, and it bled lots! oat

— * Or more e like leaves,” said Olive. “Don’t you re-
member the great leaves on the magnolia; in the sum-













mer, they held fast to the branch and sap came out of

the socket, but after the first frost they dropped off
-themsely es, leaving. a little dry sear?”
Oh, yes, IT do,” said Rap. vss How soon after the old
antler is shed does the new one grow, Doctor? Y ru
said the Antelope’s new horn was sprouting under the
old one when it fell off."
—W ith the true Deer there eisa time of rest. as. there
is with trees, and the antler does not begin to sprout
until spring, when the Deer finds fresh green food onee









more. Then the veins and skin, which covered the scar

. that the old antlers left, begin to swell like a dark-
= colored bubble, the straight beam of the antler appears,

and after a time begins. to branch at the top. It goes
on growing until midstunmer, tine after tine dev eloping, S



: antl e

_ according to the age of the animal. As yet the whole
iy is COV ered by the film of skin- covered yelns that
have enlarged with it and aid the inside v veins in supply-

ing the bone food needed for such. Te













Nid growth. Up &

to this time the outside: of f the antler is rough and has:



a furred feeling: to the touch ; ‘being in the, velvet” this”





a iS s called.


802 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“The antlers are now hardening fast, and the Deer
rub them against tree trunks and on the ground until
this velvet, being no longer needed, peels off in strips
and dries away, leaving the smooth polished bone in
early autumn, when the antler has attained its complete
growth.

“Now comes the answer to your question, Rap, about
the various sizes of antlers. The first pair on a young
Deer are usually straight beams with few tines, but they
increase in size each year, the wonderful pairs we hear
of belonging to very strong Deer upward of six or
seven years old, the size depending both on strength
and age. The end and aim of this wonderful growth
seems to be to furnish the jealous, quarrelsome stags
with weapons for fighting each other during their court-
ing season, which is in autumn; for shortly after this
mating time the shedding begins, though some Deer
keep the antlers much longer than others, and Moose
usually shed theirs some time before Elk. As you look
at the various heads, you will see that the antlers differ
in shape. Those of the American Deer and Elk are
the most alike, both being tined, but the beam of the
American Deer’s branches outward and forward, and
the beam of the Elk’s outward and backward. These
two Deer also have compact, trim feet, with the hind
toes, called dew claws, set well up; but these cloven
hoofs cut through the snow and make them very help-
less in seasons of deep drifts.

“The Moose and the Woodland Caribou are also
somewhat evenly paired. The Caribou, as you have
seen, wears curious antlers, curving and bending every
which way, forward and back, with both tined and leaf-


1. WoopLAND CARIBOU. 2. Mooss. 3. ELK,
HORNS, PRONGS, AND ANTLERS 303

shaped (or as the Wise Men say palmate) ends, while
the Moose wears his wholly palmate, standing out wide
behind his ears like sounding boards, and sometimes
spreading six feet from tip to tip and having forty
points. The foot of the Moose, too, is more loose and
shuffling, like the Caribou, though it does not form a
complete snow-shoe. The greatest point of difference
in these two is in their ears, the Caribou having very
small and the Moose very large ones.

“Look again at these four Deer: two, the Elk and
American Deer, are always beautiful when at rest and
graceful in motion; while the other two, the Moose
and Caribou, are interesting and curious, but ponderous
and awkward. Your first thought regarding a Moose
must always be of wonder as to why his ears are so
long, how he came by his swollen, overhanging nose,
called the muffle, and the hairy ‘bell’ hanging from
his throat, for which no one has discovered the use;
while the Caribou’s legs seem uneven and you wonder
if his antlers grew on his head, or whether they were
made of pieces picked up and glued together at random.
Again the four may be divided into pairs according to
the haunts they seek. The American Deer and the Elk
or Wapiti, love park land and woods with running
water and high shade; the Moose and Caribou seek
low ground, marshy thickets, and the neighborhood of
lakes and ponds, enduring cold better than their grace-
ful brothers.

The Moose is the largest Deer in the world, and
quite as homely as he is large; he stands six feet at
the shoulders, his head is long like a donkey’s, and his
large ears are far down, back of the small eyes. His
304 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

body is short and set on four long legs; the front legs
being longer than the back, give it a sort of hump at
the shoulders. The winter coat is dark brown above,
with thick under-fur of a lighter color, and the hair
hangs loose and manelike about the neck; the summer
coat, however, is soft and fine. As to the female, im-
agine a very large, long-legged donkey cut out of
faded, weather-beaten, brown Canton flannel, and
stuffed rather scantily with straw, and you will have
an.idea of Madam Moose; but her mate finds her
beautiful, fights for her, and is very fond of her.

“This grotesque beast once ranged through all the
northern states and territories of this country, from
the Atlantic to the Pacific, between the frontier states
and territories up to the land of the Polar Bear. Now
its range has shrunk on every side; there are a few
in the Northeast and others in the big game country
from the Yellowstone Park northward. They are
vanishing fast, however, and their solitary habits and
haunts alone have saved them, for they feed ever in
sheltered places, their food being coarse grass and water
plants, while in winter they browse on tree buds and
even evergreen branches, which their height allows
them to reach easily. Moose hide was the Indians’
favorite leather for moccasins, and Moose meat their
standby next to Buffalo beef.

“Next in size to the Moose comes the Elk, or Wapiti
as the Wise Men say. If the Moose must be compared
to a donkey in looks and voice, the male Elk has cer-
tainly all the grace and poise of a beautiful horse.
His head is delicate and shapely, the antlers evenly
balanced and carried high, the eyes full and restless,
HORNS, PRONGS, AND ANTLERS 805

the shaded brown body round, shapely, and set firmly
on the legs. The bull Elk stands five feet at the
shoulders and often grows to weigh half a ton, though
the females are far lighter. The Elk has a thick skin
and heavy winter under-coat of fur. His flesh yields
fine, rich, satisfying meat, and his tallow is prized in
wood cookery. But when we praise his personal beauty,
we have said our best word for the bull Elk, at least.
His temper is extremely disagreeable, and he is selfish
and at times cruel, both to his mate and the young
fawns, driving them away from the best fodder and
playing the tyrant in every way.

“The Elk once ranged in almost every part of the
United States, and half-way up through the British
Provinces; but wild, shy, hating the sight and sound of
man, they retreated westward very quickly as the coun-
— try settled, and, leaving the plains and prairies to the
Bison and Antelope, settled in the mountain parks
where the water supply was good. In and about the
Yellowstone Park there are many herds of Elk, perhaps
numbering 50,000, and their cast-off antlers are so plen-
tiful in that region that long lines of fences are made of
them. But as they often seek winter food and shelter
out of the bleak park in a place called Jackson’s Hole,
pot hunters have a chance to capture them almost in
sight of Government protection. Ready as they are to
eat any kind of vegetable food, even to gnawing bark
from trees, they fare poorly in winter, since their range
has been shut in on every side, and, weakened by lack
of food, they often starve and freeze in considerable
numbers, their skeletons being found where they have
lain down in a group and been too weak ever to rise.

x
806 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Our last Deer, the Virginia Common, or, as it is
now to be called, American Deer, is the daintiest and
most lovable of all. Each one—stag, doe, or fawn—is
equally beautiful whether lying in some vine-shaded
haunt, sauntering toward a brook, standing in a clear
pool, as if looking at its own image, or, when startled,
flying over the fallen logs and underbrush, as if its
little feet scarcely touched the ground.

“Tts home is North America at large, if we leave out
the far north, so that its name is very suitable. Even
to-day, in spite of persecution, there are but few states
which have not a family or two of these gentle creatures
hidden away in some wood or valley. To me this Deer,
fine as its flesh is, has always seemed more of a pet than
a game animal — more like some intelligent though shy
friend than a creature to be hunted.

“T have never shot one, even under bitter stress of
hunger, without regret, and if I stopped to think of its
appealing eyes and sensitive, quivering nose, the morsel
of venison for which I had worked so hard would fairly
choke me. To adapt a famous verse, —‘Its beauty
gives it the right to live.’ Hunger, desperate hunger, is
the only excuse for killing such animals as these, and
as hunger makes man a savage, we must then expect
to find savage instincts in him.

“Three feet high at the shoulder is this little Ameri-
can Deer, and the best runner among our fourfoots.
It is quite hardy, and may be seen in its high winter
haunts feeding as cheerfully on buds, moss, or beech-
nuts, pawed laboriously from under deep snow, as when
in its rich, summer, river pasturage of marsh grass,
water plants, and berries. Almost all wild animals love
HORNS, PRONGS, AND ANTLERS 307

water in warm weather, and the Moose and American
Deer revel in it, taking to bathing and swimming like
small boys.

“ This little Deer has slim legs, a slender body, and a
wedge-shaped, white-lined tail for its danger signal.
Its summer coat is rich and varies from rust color to
buff, while with its winter coat its ruddy beauty
changes to sombre grays and browns, like the moult-
ing of its meadow mate, the Bobolink.

“The does, who wear no antlers, are devoted to their
young, and if you ever see one of the soft-eyed mothers
tending one or two tiny spotted fawns, either in the
wild country, or ina Deer park, I’m sure, boys, that you
would never wish to point. your gun at them. You
think a calf or a colt, a puppy or a kitten amusing in
its gambols, but for pretty ways no animals are so
attractive as these spotted fawns.”

“Do Deer sleep the winter sleep?” asked Dodo, who
was growing tired of what she called “plain facts,” and
wished the story part to come; “and do these pretty
Deer fight for their mates like the others ?”

“They do not sleep, neither do any of the family;
but I must confess that they fight, and sometimes
fiercely to the death. Several times their skeletons
have been found with antlers locked so tightly that
the Deer could not part or feed, and must have died
of hunger, and I have read of three heads being found
locked thus together. Now that yee have had your
facts, we will beg Nez for his story.”

“Only one more question please, Doctor,” said Rap.
“Will Deer ever chase House People or toss them on
their antlers?”
308 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“A wounded Deer brought to bay will sometimes
hurt his pursuer, but there is no real danger to be
feared at any time of the year except during their mat-
ing season in autumn. Then with their powerful full-
grown antlers and quick tempers they are not only
equipped and ready to fight each other, but anything
else that crosses their path, using their feet as well to
strike and trample. But even then, they have such a
dread of the scent of man and gunpowder that they
seldom interfere with him.” j

“Come, Nez, it is your turn now!”
XXII
NEZ’ BIG MOOSE

ARE say yer won’t like my story,”
said Nez, shyly, as he leaned for-
ward toward the fire, tipping
up the bench on which he was
seated, and began whittling a
miniature tent-pin from a scrap
of pine kindling that had fallen
_ on the hearth ; for, in spite of his
years of tramping, he had never
conquered the neryous Yankee
habit of keeping his hands busy. He did not raise his
head as he spoke, but seemed to be talking to the fire
more than to the people, his words being such a dialect
mixture that the children had to listen well to under-
stand him, and I am sure if they were to be spelled
quite as they sounded, you would never be able to
read them.

“ve seen enough Deer in my day and tried heaps
of ways of huntin’, some fair, some ornery, some mean,
and some meaner; but, lookin’ back on it, there’s only
one way of huntin’ and one beast worth huntin’,—that
way is stalkin’ and follerin’, and that beast is Moose!
Of course I don’t mean huntin’ to feed yer camp or
yerself. Feed huntin’ is different, — anything yer can
eat and anyway to get it goes then.

309


310 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“’Long about ten years ago, when I was raound out
Montana way, Elk huntin’ was good ’nough fer me.
I didn’t mind chasin’ over rough, bust-up ground then,
or climbin’ mount’ins as high as trees grew. Elk
weren’t so hard to git, winter or summer, for they go
in sort of flocks, and when you’d see one you'd likely
strike a bunch, but Moose are lonesomer and only travel
in slim families. In summer all you needed for Elk
was a little know-how and a long-range gun, for though
they’re scary beasts they are kind of stupid ’bout some
things, and don’t put two and two together as quick as
some others. While they are a figurin’, in comes yer
shot. Of course if a stag sees yer, he’s likely to give a
whistle and set the bunch runnin’, but anyway you
can’t expect fourfoots to wait for yer to come up and
sprinkle salt on ’em, any more than birds.

“Elks don’t have an easy life. In winter the poor
things come down to git in warm hollers where they
could paw the snow away and find grass, and if the
snow was deep they’d gnaw bark and flounder araound,
so it was easy gittin’ them. Deer’s fine huntin’ too, if
yer go at it right, and good sport; but there’s too
many short cuts through sneak trails that folks has got
in ther habit er takin’, and then braggin’ of their kill,
—it jest about sickens real sportsmen !”

“Please, Nez,” said Rap, “you say Moose, Elk, and
Deer; aren’t Moose and Elk both Deer?”

“ Yes, o’ course they air by rights, — it’s only a way
o’ speakin’. Anywhere I’ve been, if yer say jest Deer,
without any other handle, it means common Deer, Vir-
ginny Deer, or what Doc calls American Deer, because
-it’s the one best known from Canady to the Gulf. A
NEZ’ BIG MOOSE 311

woodsman nor an Injun never says Deer if he means
Moose, Elk, or Caribou, Mule or Blacktail, or any 0’
the others.”

“What do you mean by the short cuts that people
sneak through?” asked Olive.

“The ways o’ killin’ that don’t give the beast fair
play, and are more like butcherin’ than huntin’, —fire-
huntin’, houndin’, jackin’, and all sorts of water killin’,
runnin’ ’em down on snow-shoes, waitin’ at the salt
licks, and ‘ callin’’ for Moose.

“Wire-huntin’ is creepin’ out in the dark where you
think there are Deer by a pond or marsh, and flashin’
atorch. If there’s any Deer about theyll stop still
and look at the light, and their eyes ketch the shine of
it so you can see ’em and get good aim and shoot ’em in
the head, for they don’t see anything but the light.

“ Jackin’ is ’most worse, and folks use it on Deer and
Moose. You take a boat,and sneak at night in the
shadders raound a pond where they wade in to feed on
water-lilies. You have a covered ‘Jack’ lamp on your
cap, and when yer hear a splash, yer turn and flash yer
light that way. Half likely yer’ll see two stars close
over the water, and theyll be Moose eyes. Then yer
can shoot, or if yer feel real mean and ugly and.can git
the canoe between the Moose and shore, you'll make
him swim fer it until he’s tired, and then kill him.”

“J think those are mean, horrid ways,” cried Dodo;
“but I suppose of course only wild, savage sort of
people do it?”

“You're mistaken there, young lady. My! don’t I
mind down home in Maine, when I was a little shaver,
how the fellers used ter come from the cities all rigged
312 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

up, and calkerlatin’ to git jest so many Deer and a Moose
or two in jest so many days. Nothin’ would do but
some one must guide them to the Deer, and guide the
Deer to ’em, and introduce ’em with a gun and fire and
tricks, — the quicker all the better for those ‘sports.’

“T-do hear this guidin’ is a perfession now up that
way. -But land alive, Doc! what would the fellers
West call that kind o’ guidin’?—the ones we knew
that lived at Red Ranch. When we and they went
huntin’ we all pitched in and tramped and starved
alike.” And Nez looked into the fire as if he saw
something miles away.

_ “But your first big Moose, — tell us how you caught
him,” reminded Nat.

“ Yes, ’m workin’ raound to him. It was that fust
season that I was lumberin’ in the Saskatchewan coun-
try, and we’d been workin’ hard gittin’ logs ready to
haul when snow come, and as it come about we had an
off spell fer a week, waitin’ fer orders. A light snow-
fall come ’long the last of September, and old Dom’nick
Pardeau and me allowed to git a Moose, for we were
*bout tired o’ beans and bacon in camp, and most of
the outfit was too fresh with guns to do better than
scare game away. So we allowed to go on a reg’lar
Injun still hunt, trackin’ and watchin’ signs, which
wasn’t hard then, on account of the snow that took
the footprints. If you want huntin’ that only an Injun
can do right, try to follow Moose signs in plain ground
with jest moss and leaves to show the longish prints.
Of course we had to hunt this way in day time and try
to trail the Moose to his bed, for they feed and rove
night times, and hide away to sleep somewhere soon
NEZ’ BIG MOOSE 313

after light. It was the season for callin’, but that was
night work and I hadn’t caught well on to that then,
though I did it seasons after when it wuz my turn to
keep the camp in meat.”

“Ts there a season for calling? Why can’t you do
it any time, day or night?” asked Rap.

“ Because Moose only talk and shout and make a
noise in the mating season. You have to ‘call’ in the
night, because if it was light the Moose would see you
was a man and not its mate. My sakes! aren’t Moose
keen, though! Nothing but Wolves can beat ’em at
smellin’ and hearin’; but then, look at the size of
their ears ! ”

“ Yes, and their noses, too; I guess they were made
to hold extra big smell boxes,” said Dodo..

“They can smell anything. If yer reckless with a
campfire, or let the wind carry a whiff of tobacco even,
yowll see no Moose that day. Then, in spite of their
big bodies and horns, they can steal off on those long
legs o’ theirn as soft as a Wildcat, and they’ve got
human sense enuff to lie down facin’ their tracks to see
what is follerin’.”

“ They have very long legs, to be sure,” said Rap.

“The longest of any beast in this country anyhow.
They air jest made handy to pasture on trees and
bush tops and keep above decent snow, and if they
want a mouthful of short grass they've got to duck
for it. Now the Moose is a bog trotter, except in dead
of winter, and Dom’nick and me allowed to go down
to the pine swamps, for, though it was cold and there
was some ice, the Moose hadn’t left their water feed-
in’ and made up parties to yard for the winter.”
314 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Do they live in barnyards in winter?” asked Dodo ;
“and if they do who feeds them ?”

“Not much they don’t. Yards are places where
there are food trees and bushes growing handy so that
two or three Moose families can live there all winter,
treadin’ trails through the snow to the trees to feed,
and when they’ve eat up everything they can reach,
bark and all, they move on. This time when Dom’nick
and me started out, the Moose were reckless, as they
are at this time o’ year. We'd heard them crashin’
through the woods, beatin’ their horns in the bushes,
and callin’ in the night araound the clearin’, for they
don’t seem to mind the noise of axes choppin’ so long
as no one fires a gun.

“We tied on our heaviest moccasins, made out 0’ the
hind-leg skin o’ Moose, took our rifles and small packs,
and started down toward the ma’sh land. I tell you it
was cold! The fog was thick as smoke too, but it let
up after a spell and then began to snow again. After
crossin’ raound about for some time and tryin’ to keep
headed to the wind, which wasn’t easy, for sometimes
it wouldn’t blow at all, and then it would whisk up
squally from anywhere.

«Tracks soon be covaired! See here Moose vas
been! Big Moose vary angry, tore tree, here him
eat,’ said Dom/’nick, who was a Canady Frenchy, but
talked choppy like a half-breed.

“«* Ves, but all that wasn’t sense last night when the
snow come,’ said I. Jest at this minit we struck a
trail comin’ from over across a deep, black ma’sh,
makin’ toward the higher wood. Dom’nick stooped
down and looked careful.
NEZ’ BIG MOOSE 315

“¢Two bull Moose, von cow. Big Moose found
mate, gone over wood, home to big marsh. We fol-
low ; maybe hev bad time, maybe get big Moose. Not
talk now—creep.’ So then we crawled on and on.
It stopped snowin’ after a spell, and nigh about noon I
signed to Dom’nick that we’d better halt and eat.
I wasn’t as used to the snow and cold as I got to be
later, and I’d twisted my ankle in an old stump and
was feelin’ pretty mean.

“*Can eat walkin’,’ was all he said, makin’ off.

“Pretty soon we come to a place where there had
been a Moose fight. Bushes were all torn up and
tramped raound about, but from the signs it must
have been the night before too.

“¢You see? You want stop to eat now?’ sneered
Dow’nick, forgettin’ I was young in the bizness.

“J tramped and stumbled on another half hour and
then I sez, sez I, ‘I’m goin’ to stop right here and eat
and make a fire too; if you don’t like it you can go
along.’ He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t stop, nor
_ even look araound. I bunched some dry branches and
started up a little blaze, warmed my hands and eat my
chunk o’ bread and bacon. Then I stamped out the
fire and looked araound wonderin’ if Pd foller Dom’nick
or turn about.

“T was jest standin’ between some pine balsams,
givin’ my gun a wipe, when I heard a crashin’ far off,
as if a storm was tearin’ down trees; but there wasn’t
any wind then, and the snow had cleared, yet I couldn’t
see anythin’ comin’. Crash! crash! crash! nearer
and nearer. I grabbed my gun and waited. I could
hear hard breathin’, but I couldn’t tell first if it was
316 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

my own or somethin’ else’s. You often git that feelin’
when yer fresh to huntin’ and hear big game comin’.
Pretty soon I knew the breathin’ belonged to both of
us, me and the other feller, who was the biggest Moose
Id ever seen, comin’ dashin’ along over old logs, snortin’
and blowin’ like a sawmill engine. I up with my gun
and shot for behind the shoulder, but he didn’t stop,
and came straight on, and I thought sure I hadn’t
teched him and my aim had gone over ’cause he was
comin’ so fast. I couldn’t fire again; he was too close,
and makin’ fer me furius. I looked to git behind a
tree, but jest then he fell over not twenty yards from
where I wuz.

“T come out, when I saw he was dead for sure, and
took a look. He was shot through the heart, and as
fine a moose as anybody could want. I didn’t know then
how tough his meat’d be, or about measurin’ horns and
countin’ spikes in those times, but you can measure
that pair now, over to my camp, and though they’re old
and shabby, theyll tell you five foot eight and thirty-
five points. Then I saw there was blood on the front
of his horns, that couldn’t have come from himself, and
I began to wonder what had become er Domnick. I
couldn’t lift or skin the Moose myself, so, kind er set
up by my kill, I followed Dom’nick’s trail.

“T must have kept on four or five miles, when the
woods sagged down to swampy, thick-covered ground
again. The Moose trail was clear enough, but Dom’nick
walked to head him off, not in the trail. Then I come
to a place that puzzled me; the snow was melted by a
warm spring, and I-had to pick up the trail again on the
other side. While I was thinkin’, I heard another great






THE MOOSE.
NEZ’ BIG MOOSE 317

crashin’ and thrashin’ in the bushes a little way ahead.
I listened; the animal that made it wasn’t runnin’, but
seemed to be beatin’ around in one place. I crawled
along careful, lookin’ fer trees big ’nough to climb if
a big Moose charged at me, for [d been hearin’ tall
stories of how skeery they are most of the year; they'll
fight anythin’ or anybody they think is chasin’ their
mate. I didn’t have to look long. Down the gap I
saw a Moose, near as big as the one I'd shot, bangin’
and batterin’ away with his horns at an old spruce, and
up the tree, sittin’ on a rotten old branch nota foot above
the Moose’s reach, was Domnick, without his gun !

“J hurried along then with my rifle ready, for I
reckoned the branch he was holt to wouldn’t last long,
and I couldn’t git an aim on the Moose where I was.
_ The Moose didn’t notice me a bit, though I made some
noise, but kept poundin’ at the tree. Then I fired, but
my hand shook and the Moose swung his head araound,
give one snort, and started off into the bog. I had clean
missed him.

“¢You vary poor shot!’ said Dom/’nick, tumblin’ out
of the tree, for the limb broke clean off jest then.

“J was mad, but ’'d seen enough o’ Injun manners to
keep cool, so I sez, sez I, ‘We've got ’nough Moose
meat five miles better to camp than here. I jest wasted
a shot to let you out o’ that fix! Where’s yer own
gun?’

_ “Dom’nick looked at me, and then he laughed and
clapped me on the back, and said, ‘You hav’ ze good
luck, I hav’ ze bad, so I tell you. I walk long way,
find two bull Moose fightin’, makin’ each odder bleed
wiz horns; cow track run away home to marsh. I
318 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

creep vary near—they not see me. I aim, fire, bang!
Only hit one in horns because movin’ so much. I move
quick to get anodere shot; one Moose run away, one
vary mad—him run at me. I hit gun ’gainst tree, he
jumps out of hand, den I run! Angry Moose awful:
Can break chest in wiz horns, can kick like horse. I
get up tree, bad tree, little few branches. Moose vary
mad. Bang, smash! I feel branch crack, then you
~ come. Can smoke now. Good! Both smoke pipes.’

“JT reckon we were glad enough to git back to camp
with a couple 0’ Moose steaks we hacked off, and the
boys went out with horses and brought the carcass back
afore the Wolves scented it. I wasn’t goin’ to say a
word, but Dom’nick he told, and let the laugh on him-
self!

«Nez will be big hunter some day,’ said he, ‘he has ze.
luck. Ze luck and good gun are great t’ing in woods.’”

“Ts that Eee said Nat, as Nez stopped. “I wish
there was more.’

“Want toknow! Ivreckon that’s all bout the Moose,
but part of the story is goin’ on yet. Dom/nick he took
a shine to me, and nine years ago when I come back
East from Montana, I found he’d jest died and left me
his traps, fixin’s, and good will. Also his darter (that
was a bit of a gal when I went West), if she’d hev me,
—and she did. She’s Toinette, my wife; so you see
that Moose story ain’t ended.”

“ Oh, I understand,” said Dodo, after thinking a mo-
ment, “and she speaks a kind of French like Dominique !
But what kind of language do you speak, Nez?”

“Want to know! Why, American, for sartin, jest
like you do!”
NEZ’ BIG MOOSE 819

Dodo opened her mouth to exclaim at this, but her
father broke in : — :

“Certainly, north woods American. There are al-
most as many kinds of American spoken here as there
are states in the Union, but you see, Dodo, there are
only a very few people in each state who speak pure
American or English, and the others doubtless think
it a very strange language.”

“ Jest so!” exclaimed Nez.

“Are there a great many fences built of Moose
horns?” asked Rap.

“Nope, I’ve never seen one,” said Nez, “nor found
more’n an odd horn here and there. The Injuns allow
the Moose claws earth and snow over ’em to hide ’em,
as soon as they’re shed. Seems likely, too, and then it
stands to reason that the horns mould, and rats and
mice gnaws ’em away.”

>
XXITT
FISH OR FLESH

#~URING the holidays the children
see, Spent most of their indoor hours
in Camp Saturday, and New
Year’s night found them pre-

paring to make candy from
the kettle of molasses that
Olive was watching anxiously,
waiting for the exact moment
to take it off the fire, which
is so important when you are |
going to “pull” molasses candy in the proper old-
fashioned way.

“I am going to choose all these footless animals
that look like fishes, but are Mammals,” said Nat,
selecting some pictures. “I wonder why Mammals
look so very different from each, and if the Wise Men
are sure that these Whales and things are not fishes.”

“Many animals, of even the same species, are adapted
to live in widely different places,” said the Doctor. “If
you look at the lower branches of the animal tree, you
will see that of these animals without backbones, some
live on land and some in water. Then look higher
among those having backbones: the fishes live in water ;
frogs live in water and toads on land; alligators in
3820



FISH OR FLESH 321

water and snakes on land, while with birds some live
wholly on land and a few mostly on the water.

“Of course when we speak of the milk-giving, warm-
blooded order of Mammals, we usually think only
of animals with four legs, quadrupeds as they are
called. But an Alligator is a quadruped without being
a Mammal, and a Whale is a Mammal without being a
quadruped.”

“It’s a kind of a puzzle how it can be, isn’t it?” said
Nat.

“Not if you remember m—mammals, m— milk,” said
Dodo, quickly.

“You must have often heard the saying that ‘the
exception proves the rule,’” continued the Doctor; “so
the story of these footless ones is the exception to prove
that four feet are the rule among Mammals. Look at
your Mammal tree. What is the lowest branch of all?”

“Pouch wearers,” said Nat, “are on the lowest
branch that grows with us, though there are two others
lower that are only stumps. Opossum is the pouch
wearer, but there is a picture of him in the portfolio,
and he has four legs and a curly tail. Why is he lower
than no-legged beasts?”

“T will tell you that when we come to him. What
is the next branch?”

“Sea Cows; and the ladder says there is only one
species in North America and its name is Manatee,
and that it is eight or ten feet long. Isn’t it ugly,
though! Its face looks like one of those big tomato
worms.”

“We thought the Walrus hideous and grotesque, and
the Sea Lion awkward,” said the Doctor; “but what

Y
322 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

can be said of this Manatee, who is almost helpless on
land, being unable to raise his solid, sloping body on his
flippers, though when he is in the water his fat acts as
a life-buoy, and his wide, round tail makes him an ex-
pert swimmer. If you could see his skeleton you would
notice that his flippers are really arms coming from
flat shoulder blades, and ending in five-fingered hands
which the flesh hides. Also, that instead of strong teeth
for eating flesh, he has small weak teeth fit only for
chewing vegetable food. Uncouth as the Manatee is,
he yields three valuable things, — good oil, good meat,
and good leather, and, if protected, would have been of
great use to the people of the coast streams of Florida,
where he lives.

“Though the Manatee spends its life im water, it
cannot stay under water more than five or six minutes
at a time, and when it comes up to breathe it gives
people a chance to shoot it. Sometimes, however, it is
caught in heavy nets spread across the rivers that are
its favorite feeding grounds. While eating, the Manatee
floats, using his flippers like fans to guide the long sea
grasses and water plants, among which he often hides,
to his mouth. People think that early mariners, in
looking down through clear southern waters, saw this
monster floating upright and waving its flippers, as it
looked up through the swaying grasses that surrounded .
it like long hair. Being surprised and very much
frightened, they lost no time, on going back to shore, in
spreading tales of the beautiful mermaids they had seen
combing their hair and riding under water on the backs
of Dolphins, while they sang sweet luring music. We
can see for ourselves how much mistaken they were,


THE MANATEE.
FISH OR FLESH 823

but nevertheless one of the Manatee’s family names is
Sivenia, or Siren, which does not seem as suitable as Sea
Cow. No less a personage than Christopher Columbus
believed that these Manatees were mermaids, but con-
fessed himself disappointed in their beauty. In an ac-
count of his second voyage we read: ‘The Admiral
[Columbus] affirmed he had seen thereabouts three
mermaids that raised themselves far above the water,
and that they are not as handsome as they are painted,
and that they wore something like a human face,’ which
I believe is the first mention of our Sea Cow in history.

“The Manatee is slate-gray on top, with a few scat-
tered hairs; the belly is whitish. Though it has only
fore limbs, in resting on the river bottom as is its custom,
it curves its tail fins to support its back, after the fashion
of legs, and balances by resting also on the tips of its
flippers. One or two calves are born each year, to
whom the Cow is most affectionate, being said even to
shed tears if she is separated from them. One would
think that there need be no fear of such a useful, harm-
less animal becoming extinct; but man kills on water as
well as on land, and the Manatee, if it does not possess
the ‘fatal gift of beauty,’ has a gift that exposes him to
even greater danger from the half-wild people of his
haunts: he is wonderfully good eating, the meat being
compared by different people to young pig, veal, and
lamb. So it will not be long before we shall have to
say ‘good day’ to the Manatee. He may change his
skin, as he does every year; men will not change their
habits, but keep on killing the geese that lay the golden
eggs, like the people in the fairy story.”
324 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Olive, quick! the molasses is boiling over,” cried
Dodo. And Mr. Blake had barely time to snatch off
the pot and prevent a great spill.

“It’s ready to pour out,” said Olive, trying a little of
the mixture on a spoon; “then as soon as it is ropy,
we can begin to pull. Don’t put it out on the snow,
Nat; we want it to grow tough, not brittle, this time.”

“The next branch on the Mammal tree is a very deep
water one, the Whale branch, and the Dolphins and
Porpoises are sort of twigs on it,” said Rap, studying
the picture. “The ladder says that Whale comes from
two words, meaning roller, and that they can’t move on
land, and they live on animal food.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor, “the Whales are all rollers
and the Porpoises too, though the Dolphins are quite
graceful and sportive, varying their rolling motions by
wonderful leaps, so that I do not wonder the mariners
chose them to be the mermaids’ horses.

‘When this Whale tribe was developed, Nature set
out to build some Mammals like swimming oil-tanks, to
furnish light and heat to man until he should have
learned to bore into the earth and draw oil from wells.
As usual, Nature succeeded very well, and among these
Whales are numbered the largest living Mammals, some
species reaching eighty feet in length. All of this order
yield more or less oil, but the two most valuable species
are the great Sperm Whale, or Cachelot, and the Bow-
head. The Sperm Whale has, in a hollow in his head,
a lardy substance called spermaceti, from which candles
are made; also yields a perfume called ambergris, and is
entirely covered, under the skin, with a layer of fat
FISH OR FLESH 3825

blubber, which not only keeps him afloat, but when
tried out yields barrels of sperm oil. This Whale is
of a curious shape, being obliged to turn on his back
when he wishes to take anything in his mouth. If
you could see the skeleton of a Whale you would find
that he has five finger bones hidden in his front fins, the
same as the Manatee. It is impossible to realize his
immense size when seen in the water, but if by chance
one is stranded on a beach, men seem but pigmies beside
him. The nostrils of the Whale are high on the top





SPERM WHALE.

of its head so as to be as far out of water as possi-
ble. People used to think that Whales took water into
their mouths and blew it out through their nostrils, a
proceeding which is called spouting in Sea Stories. But
the truth of the matter is, that, breathing slowly as
water animals must, but with great force, the warm
breath turns to a fountain of spray when it comes in
contact with the cold air, and so the mistake arose.
“Hunting these Whales was once the great industry
of the New England coast, and many stories and books
have been written about it; but those days have passed
326 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

with all other times of good hunting, and for the same
cause.

“The cow Whales are exceedingly fond of their
young, sporting and playing with them in the water,
pausing frequently, and floating on their sides to give
the calves a chance to take their milk food. If a young
Whale is caught or wounded, its mother usually gives
her own life rather than leave it.

“As the whalers paid no respect to the season when
the calves were young and helpless, but even followed the
cows into the only homes they had,—the bays where
the calves are born and are nursed, —it is little wonder
that a hundred years or more of such work has thinned
out these sea giants. Now Whale fishing is chiefly done
in the Northwest, where Behring Strait joins the Arctic
Ocean, and steam craft with long-range guns and dyna-
mite bombs are hastening the extinction of, at least, the
useful members of the order.

“Man may get oil from the ground, but there is
something yielded by a few species of Whale, like the
Bowhead and Finback, for which no substitute has
been found. I mean whalebone, which is really no
more true bone than is a cow’s horn. The Whales who
give this substance have no teeth, and large, broad
mouths, so that if they open them to take in a mass
of mollusks (the shell-fish upon which they feed), they
would either have to swallow a great quantity of water,
or risk losing their meal. Nature made a provision for
this, just as the grooved saw-tooth bill was arranged to
strain the water from the food of the duck. Plates of
horny fibre were developed from the part of the Whale’s
mouth called the palate, so as to make both a gate and
FISH OR FLESH 327

a sieve to strain the water off, and allow only the food
to be swallowed. This gate is arranged in such a way
that it lifts up like a drawbridge when the mouth opens,
and closes at the exact moment when it is needed.
You can well imagine that any substance at once strong
and yet pliable enough to close inside a Whale’s mouth,
must be very durable and flexible.

“This whalebone, made into strips, is used as the
foundation for many articles, chief among them being
the best driving whips and the ‘bones’ for corsets and
dress waists. But the real whalebone is growing rarer







FINBACK WHALE.

and more costly each year. The Arctic Bowhead yields
the finest, longest baleen, as the Wise Men call this
whalebone. The Finback Whale, such as you see in
the picture, also grows baleen, but it is of a poorer sort.”

“ Why are they digging a hole in this Whale with a
shovel?” asked Dodo.

“That is the old-fashioned blubber shovel with which
they used to cut the blocks of solid blubber from the
Whale, just as you have seen turf cut, in order that the
fat may be boiled down to extract the oil.”

“T wish you would tell us all the ways of catching
Whales, and all the places they live,” said Nat.
328 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“That would take too long now, and your candy
would grow quite hard; but some evening I will show
you pictures of all the Whales, and read you about the
fisheries from one of the great black-covered Government
books in my study. I only wished to show you now
that they really are branches of our Mammal tree, even
though these branches trail in the Atlantic, Pacific, and
Arctic oceans.











THE PoRPOISE.

“The common Porpoise that we see rolling about the
sounds and harbors, and his brother the Dolphin, seem
mere babies in size compared to these true Whales. The
Porpoise travels in parties of various sizes, and makes a
terrible fuss in getting through the water, rolling, snuf-
fling, and grunting like a pig, from which noise, together
with the small piglike eyes, it took the name of Sea
Hog and Herring Hog. Every time a Porpoise rolls he
FISH OR FLESH 829

shows the long fin on his back, and this violent effort is
made to allow him to get his nose sufficiently out of
water to breathe. Porpoises are of very little use to
man, which accounts for the numbers constantly seen.
They often do positive harm in our home waters by eat-
ing quantities of fish that travel in schools, like harbor
blues, herring, menhaden, etc. They are said to be
good fighters and, when in a herd, able to surround quite
large prey and drive it in any direction they choose.
The young are curious creatures, looking, when a few
days old, like black bottles about two feet long. Por-
poises very seldom spring wholly from the water like
Dolphins, though they have been known to do so, even
leaping over boats when badly frightened.

“Of Dolphins there are many species, found in all
salt waters, and ranging in size from five to fifteen feet.
They seem to be made for beauty rather than use, and
are as swift as the Porpoises are clumsy. We hear of
them everywhere, in mid-ocean chasing fishes or each
other with dash and vigor, or sporting and leaping from
the water in a spirit of pure fun. They seem to be the
gentlemen-of-leisure of the ocean, a sort of literary fish
playing a much more important part in poetry and his-
tory than in reports of the fishing industries. When is
old Neptune ever pictured as taking a ride through his
watery kingdom armed with his trident, that he is not
driving Dolphins? When he is carved in stone to play
king and sit beside a fountain, who are his gentlemen-
in-waiting? Dolphins. If a Prince in a fairy tale wishes
to send a magic ring to his Princess, imprisoned in a coral
cave, who but a Dolphin does he choose to carry it ?

“Yes, Dodo, I know the molasses is ready to pull.
380 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS









DOLPHINS.

Butter your fingers, then dip them in flour, or I shall be
asked to dress blisters to-morrow. Meanwhile remember
that if any one asks you how you know that Whales are
Mammals and not fishes, remember to tell them that
the Wise Men say, —

“¢ A fish has cold blood, breathes through gills, and lays eggs;

A Whale has warm blood, breathes with lungs, and cares for its
young as a cow does.

A fish has tail fins that run up and down, lying flat with its body;

A Whale’s tail is set crosswise and it is moved in swimming like the
blades of a propeller, while both tail and front fins do not look
unlike the hind feet and flippers of its blood brother, the
Seal.’”

“Quick, Nat!” cried Olive, “your lump of candy
will fall if you pull so slowly. Now, one, two, — pull;
three, four,—double it over.” Then, for the next
half hour, Camp Saturday was enveloped in sticky
silence.
XXIV

HLYAHREE blind mice! Three blind
We mice! See how they run, see
how they run!” sang Dodo.
“That is, how they would run if
they could,” cried Nat, as they
rushed into the wonder room
a little before tea time, carrying
z a long cage rat-trap between
them. ‘Look! five of such queer little things. They
are not house mice nor moles, nor like the pretty White-
footed Mouse that comes from under the hearth in
camp. See what blunt faces they have! What do
you think they are?”

“Meadow Mice,” said the Doctor, “ and a fine, healthy
lot of them, too. Where were they caught?”

“ Rod set the trap in Olive’s pansy frame, because the
plants were bitten and he had seen a rat or two about
that side of the barn, and this morning when he looked
all these were in it. You can catch ’most anything in
one of these traps. Big or little, if it steps on the plat-
form it falls in,” said Nat. “Stop fussing, and keep
still, so we can see what color you are.”

“A brownish-gray coat, a light vest, short tail, small
ears, and only pin-head. eyes,” said Olive, looking over
his shoulder. “It’s a very stout Mouse, is it not,

331


882 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS



Merapow Mouse.

father? More like a Prairie Dog or Woodchuck in
shape than like one of its own family.”

“Tt is a chunky Mouse, but in the great Order of
Gnawers to which it belongs, we have many variations
of a general plan, and striking contrasts are to be seen,
particularly in heads and tails. If you wish to be intro-
duced to some of the four-footed nuisance animals now
is the time, for these Meadow Mice are as troublesome
about the garden and orchard as the rats in the granary,
or the House Mouse in the pantry; and rats and mice are
largely responsible for the bad name worn by the entire
Order.

“< Rats !

They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles ;

And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
And licked the soup from the cook’s own ladles!’
RATS AND MICE 333

“Do you remember how anxious the Mayor of Hamelin
was to get rid of the rats, and what a mean trick he
played on ‘the Pied Piper? Also, how the blind mice
chased the farmer’s wife until, in self-defence, ‘She cut
off their tails with a carving knife!’ And they’ve been
in mischief ever since.”

“JT wonder why the first farmer’s wife didn’t kill
them instead of cutting off their tails,’ said Dodo. “I
think she was cruel.”

“Perhaps they all hid in a crack and their tails hung
out, and so she cut them off to punish them, and remind
them not to chase her again,” suggested Olive.

“This Meadow Mouse is one.of the tribe who ate
the lily bulbs last spring,” continued the Doctor, “ and
who, following in the Mole’s tunnel, gnawed the juicy
roots of the geraniums so that they broke off a little be-
low the ground. I have often seen their runways twist-
ing in and out among the grass tufts in the old meadow,
and between the stumps or fence posts, under which
they have winter lodgings. In summer they live almost
wholly on the surface of the ground, making nests
among the grass, and at that season, of course, they
destroy a certain amount of corn and damage stacked
grain by nibbling it from the straw, but above all they
are garden pests. These mice do not sleep the winter
sleep; and if there is no snow to protect the roots of
shrubs and fruit trees, they are sure to suffer severe
gnawing. Early in the season I saw a number of them
in the new peach orchard, but I think this deep snow
will save the trees this year.”

“ Are they common mice?” asked Olive. “It seems
strange that I have never seen any before.”
334 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Yes, they are very common, at least, through the
half of the country east of the Mississippi. They feed
chiefly at night, which is probably the reason you have
not noticed them.”

“Then people who live the other side of the Mis-
sissippi are not bothered with them?” said Nat.

“They may not have this particular Meadow Mouse,
but there is sure to be a near cousin for every part of
the country, and one for every day in the year too.
Why, aside from all the other gnawers, there are two
hundred species in the family of Rats and Mice alone.”

“What makes a species?” asked Nat.

“One fine day, long ago, some Meadow Mice from a
certain place might have been accidentally carried far
away from home to a place where the food and country
and climate were entirely different from where they
were born. They had to change their habits a little to
suit their new home, and after many generations this
change of habit made a change in their looks. Their
feet might be larger, or they might have grown a new
pattern in coats. Then some Wise Man noticed this
and said, ‘ Here is a new species.’ So the Wise Men who
are trying to draw the family tree of these nuisance
animals cannot finish it yet, because, no matter how each
one works on his tree, someone else is always going
out and finding new species that must be added as
twigs.” :

“Then I guess we can’t learn all the names of that
family,” said Dodo.

“No, indeed. There are about ten species, however,
belonging in different parts of the country, whose pict-
ures I can show you and whose names you must try to
RATS AND MICE 835

remember, for you may very likely see them all in their
homes sooner or later. Take your trap with you to the
camp, for it is nearly time for supper, and this evening
I will give you the list.”

Doctor Roy brought an old blackboard from his store
closet, and setting it by the animal tree told Nat that
he might write the names of the ten nuisance animals,
together with the parts of the country they inhabit, and
a few facts about them.

Quick and Mr. Wolf were lying before the fire, and
took a great interest in the mice which Dodo was vainly
trying to feed with crumbs.

“You'd like to give them a shaking, Quick, wouldn’t
you? But you can’t, for I’m going to collect a men-
agerie and begin it with these and Billy Coon.”

“T’ll give you a Gray Squirrel. I caught one a week
ago to-day. It was so hungry it came right in our wood-
shed, and it’s a beauty,” said Rap; “only you'll have
to be careful, for the dogs don’t understand about wild
pets, and I’m pretty sure they are watching out to shake
Billy Coon.”

“See how nicely that mouse is sitting up and wash-
ing his face, just like a cat, and what pretty little paws
he has! Even if mice are nuisance animals I like them,
and I think they are much more fun to play with than
dolls,” said Dodo.

“JT wonder how you will like it in the spring if you
find they have eaten the tulips that you planted so care-
fully,” said the Doctor.

“T shall be very, very much disappointed, and m-a-d,”
said Dodo, decidedly.
3836 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Our nuisance animals belong to four different
groups, so we will begin with the best known, — the
family circle of Rats and Mice.

“The White Lemming comes first on my list. It is a
rather wicked destroyer of grass and roots, belonging to
the cold north country with the Caribou, Musk Ox, and
Polar Bear. It furnishes many meals for the Arctic
Fox and the Snowy Owl, who evidently intend that
Lemmings shall not become too plenty. It is short and
thick-set, about the size of a Mole, with small ears, what
Olive calls ‘pin-head’ eyes, and a scrap of a tail like
a Rabbit. In common with many of the northern
animals it wears ‘ protective coloring’ in its coat, being
covered, feet and all, with white fur in winter, chang-
ing to shaded browns in summer, the season that it
burrows in the ground. Its winter nests are of moss
above ground or in little snow caves.

“The next is that swimming, burrowing gnawer the
Muskrat, who is every inch a rat as far down as his
flattened tail and scaly, webbed hind legs, where he sug-
gests the shape of his burrowing and mud-pie-making
brother, the Beaver. He is a heavy animal, with short
neck and long, sharp hind claws for digging, and fore
paws like hands, with four fingers and a thumb. He
secretes a musky odor that gives him his name.

“The Muskrat is certainly the aristocrat of his family,
for he wears a most beautiful soft fur coat that neither
mud nor water can destroy. (Your father, you remem-
ber, has a cap made of it.) He finds places suitable for
his home in the greater part of North America, and
there are few ponds and sluggish streams that do not
tell tales of him. He lives and finds his food in the
RATS AND MICH FS3'0

water, and seems out of his element when on land. He
prefers to attend to his affairs at night, when the sun
cannot spy upon him, and he is sociable as well as shy,
preferring village life to solitude, so that many of the
domed winter houses, built of reeds, sticks, and mud, are
usually found near together. These homes are built
in shallow water and are entered from below; there is













Muskrat.

a comfortable living-room inside, just above the water
level, with many passages from it where the family can
hide in times of danger. The doorway being under
water, allows the Muskrat to go out in winter, when
the surface is frozen, and secure marsh roots and the
other vegetable food that he needs. So he does not
sleep the winter sleep, nor yet store up food like the
Beaver.
3838 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“ The objection which classes the Muskrat among nui-
sance animals, is not because they eat valuable things,
but because of their burrowing habits ; they cause river

-and pond banks to cave in, and undermine mill-dams. I °
know of a large and valuable tract of marsh, the drain-
ing of which has been twice abandoned because myriads
of Muskrats kept burrowing through the dikes. The
Muskrat’s summer home is in a bank burrow, and at
this season he varies his vegetable food with fresh-
water mussels. He is a great fighter, and has been
known to attack people on slight provocation, and
without being cornered.

“The true Rats and Mice have bright eyes, large ears,
soft fur, and naked, scaly tails. They eat both animal and
vegetable food, which habit is called being omnivorous.
“The Meadow Mouse we have been discussing comes
first among these, and next the graceful White-footed or
Deer Mouse, that you have made friends with at the
fireside. This mouse must feel quite at home here in
camp, or he would not show himself so freely, for they
are very shy by nature, feeding at night, and pre-
ferring the shelter of wheat stacks and outbuildings to
houses, though I believe they are the common House
Mice of some districts. This mouse is a great climber
and jumper, placing its nests in all sorts of nooks; now
in a bird or Squirrel’s nest high up in a tree, then again
neatly weaving a round home of its own in some bush
afew feet above ground. They cache grass seeds and
grain underground, and altogether this little Deer
Mouse is so pretty and dainty, with its white feet and
vest and ruddy brown back, bright eyes, and long black
whiskers, that Iam glad to say that it does little harm.
RATS AND MICE 339

“Now you must jump from a mouse a little over three
inches long to the great Cotton Rat, who is as big as a
Chipmunk and equally mischievous. Fortunately we

‘do not have him here, but he is common from Virginia
southward. His body is about six inches long, with a
medium tail. He has round ears, and wears a rusty
brown coat and gray vest. Though he usually is kind





Corron Rat.

enough to keep out of gardens, he riddles fields and
meadows with his underground galleries, and you can
see his footpaths winding through brush lots and woods.
He does much harm by sucking the eggs of game birds,
besides eating grass and vegetables. This is one of the
nuisance animals that the Gray Fox helps to keep down,
and it should be remembered to his credit. The Cotton
Rat was so named because he was the familiar species
of cotton fields, and was supposed always to line his nest
340 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

with cotton that he had collected and stored, but he as
frequently uses leaves and grass.

“ Another one of the family about the size of the last
is the Marsh Rat, who is so fond of swimming that he
seems almost like a link between the true Rats and the
Muskrat. He makes his nest at the foot of a stump or





Marsu Rat.

sometimes in the centre of a little island of reeds as the
Grebe does, jumping directly from the nest into the
water and swimming away.

“The Wood, Trade, or Pack Rat is quite a character.
His personal appearance is extremely handsome; he
wears a coat of tawny gray fur with white vest and
boots; he has big mild eyes, while his face wears more
RATS AND MICE B41

of the Rabbit’s gentle expression than the cruel, greedy
look of a rat. His gnawing habits do not seem to get
him into very deep disgrace with the farmers; it is his
ambition that leads him into trouble. He wishes to be
an architect, bric-a-brac collector, and pedler all in one.
If he and his wife make their home in an outbuilding or
attic you will think the house full of evil spirits. This





Woop or Pack Rar.

Rat comes, sees, takes, hides, and sometimes returns,
articles with lightning rapidity. What for, no Wise
Man that I know is able to tell. Do the Rats decide to
make a nest under a bush, immediately they set to work
to stack up a heap of out-door rubbish as high as a Musk-
rat’s lodge; paper, shavings, corncobs, clothes pins, old
straps and buckles from the stable, ends of rope, news-
papers, a kid glove, all having been found stored away
342 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

inside one of these strange homes. Once in my Colorado
camping days a pair of these Rats turned our ‘dug-
out’ camp topsy-turvy during a two days’ absence.
They filled the tea kettle from a heap of shavings and
splint wood that had been cut for kindling, mixed a
quantity of fish hooks in a sack of flour that was up on
the roof logs, emptied a case of shot on the hearth, and
made away with every tin spoon our outfit could boast,
In return, they filled the frying pan with a lot of sticky
‘cones that they must have brought from half a mile
away. When we returned they seemed to think they
had improved the camp and made it more homelike,
and peeped at us proudly from between the boughs.

“Rats, however, who cannot keep their hands off the
property of others, may be interesting, but even if they
are bric-a-brac collectors, they never should be allowed a
foothold inside one’s home. Meddlesome House People,
hear, and take warning!”

“Be careful, Dodo,” said Olive; “if you keep moving
that trap, the first thing you know the door will come
unhooked and all those mice will get out, and Quick
will tear everything to bits trying to get them.”

“Our second group, the Gopher family, contains
upwards of thirty members, two of which are fairly
common. ;

“The Gophers are stout burrowing animals, seven or
eight inches long, with outside cheek pouches for carry-
ing home their provisions ; strong, long, gnawing teeth,
and powerful fore limbs armed with desperate claws for
digging out their homes. Happily they do not live very
near us, but they are a scourge in the prairie regions of
RATS AND MICE 843

the middle West. Gophers not only destroy grain and
the roots of forage plants, turnips, mangels, etc., but
they waste the land itself, making it a network of bur-
rows and pitfalls and throwing up the dirt from their
lairs, not carrying it through the main entrance but
bringing it out of side ways, and heaping it until it makes
great mounds that cover and destroy acres of sprouting







PoucHED oR MOLE GOPHER.

crops. Then they are restless animals, moving constantly
and making new homes, so that the Gopher plague goes
on the list of farming miseries, side by side with grass-
hoppers, seven-year locusts, and blizzards. Yet the
farmer seldom thanks the Hawks and Owls for their
missionary work in the Gopher community, and wages
war on the Coyote who, in Gopher Land at least, does
3844 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

farming more good than harm. The Gophers are tedi-
ous though easy animals to trap, for they only live in
families during a very short time in the year, each indi-
vidual preferring a nest to himself. Poison is danger-





Gray PockEeT GOPHER.

ous to domestic animals, when scattered about freely as
it would have to be in such cases, so that much honor is
waiting for some one who shall invent a cure for the
Gopher plague, but it must be a cure that is not worse
than the disease.”

“Perhaps you will find it out, Rap,’
smiling confidently at him.

“The well-known Red, Pouched or Mole Gopher, the
chief species of the middle West, has a clumsy reddish-
brown body as long as a Chipmunk’s, a large head, and
very wide, hair-lined, cheek pouches reaching to the

>

said Dodo,
RATS AND MICE 345

shoulders; small ears, small eyes, and long gnawing
teeth that overhang the lips. It sleeps the winter
sleep, which I wish you to remember the Wise Men call
hi-ber-na-ting.

“The Gray Pocket or Northern Gopher is found
further north than any of its kin, touching his Red
brother’s haunts, and ranging from Montana to the
plains of the Saskatchewan country where Nez shot his
Moose. This species is smaller than the Red Pouched
Gopher, and has hoary, brownish-gray fur; otherwise it
does not greatly differ from it.











KanGAROO Rat.

“Now come two lighter, more graceful fourfoots be-
longing to the Family of Pouched Rats and Mice, —
the Kangaroo Rat and the Pocket Mouse.

“The Kangaroo Rat looks like a joke on legs. To
346 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

begin at the opposite end from usual, he has a tail six
and three quarter inches long, while his body only
measures five inches and a half. This tail ends in a
sort of brush, and he can use it as a rudder or turn and
twist it like a snake. Next come wide hips and a very
high pair of legs, particularly long from foot to knee
like the Jack Rabbit’s; after this the Rat slopes rapidly
toward short arms, a pointed head, trimmed with outside
cheek pouches, fur-lined round ears, bright eyes, and
long whiskers. His coat is of soft shaded brown. ‘These
Rats are rarely seen, for they feed at night, but I have
watched them by moonlight, and they hop about on
their hind legs like some mechanical toy, holding their
tiny paws together across their chests, as if they did
not know what to do with them. They are southerly
Rats, enduring great heat, and they make large lodges
or houses, sometimes two and three feet high, among
the Spanish Bayonet plants and aloes, which serve as
hotels to several families.

“The Pocket Mouse also belongs to the south, and
is an inch smaller than the Kangaroo Rat. It, too,
has a long tail, long back legs, and outside cheek
pouches. Its coat is a lighter brown than that of the
Deer Mouse, and it also wears a white vest.

“Last, least, but most interesting of all is the Jump-
ing Mouse, with brown coat, white vest, three inches of
body, and five inches of tail; and surely a three-inch
Mouse who can jump ten feet is entitled to give his
name toa family. It is a gentle Mouse, too, and does
little harm to the farmer in the northern half of North
America, where it belongs, being content with seeds,
the softer nuts, and berries. It stores up food in ground
RATS AND MICE 347







Pocket Mouse.

burrows, but makes its nest in a variety of places.
Usually it is a careful, well-lined affair only a few
inches underground, but frequently it creeps into a
hollow post or makes its home in the chinks of a
woodpile, from which it steals toward dusk when the
Bats come out. It hibernates in the most thorough
manner, one Wise Man believing that it stays in longer
than that sleepyhead, the Woodchuck. It usually
goes deep into the ground or to some out-of-the-way
corner for its long nap. The waking hours of the
Jumping Mouse are the most interesting to us, when
it moves among the waving hay fields, creeping slowly
on its uneven legs, filling its pockets with provisions,
and then, suddenly folding its arms, takes to the air.
Bounding along without seeming to touch ground after
the first leap, it is the perfect picture of free motion.”
348 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Oh, the trap is coming open and the mice are getting
out! Hold Quick, Nat, do!” screamed Dodo. There
was a scuffle, a few shrill barks, a confused spectacle of
Dodo falling over the trap, Mr. Wolf tumbling over
Dodo and putting his heavy paw on a running mouse,
while Quick disappeared under the Wolfskin rug.
When Dodo untangled herself, four Meadow Mice,
killed by a single shake each from Quick, were scat-
tered about the camp, while Mr. Wolf still held his prize
under his paw.

“It’s my fault, I know, but my menagerie is all
dead!” quavered Dodo.

“Never mind,” said the Doctor; ‘it is rather soon,
but that is what usually happens to private menageries.”





phompTe

ES ig





JUMPING MOUSE,
XXV

MISCHIEF MAKERS







RIDAY will be Nat’s birthday,” said
2 Dodo to Olive one Thursday after-
noon, “and uncle says we can

have a camp party; but the vil-

lage children that we like, mostly
“have the measles now, so we mustn’t
invite them, and we can’t have a party
without people and ice cream.”
“But you can have a party without House People;
a sausage party is great fun, with dogs for the com-
pany. I often had such parties when I was little, and
I should enjoy one now, I’m sure.”

“Oh, how lovely! We can cook the sausages our-
selves, and I know three dogs besides our own that
could come, and Billy Coon, too, if we are careful to

keep him up on the beams. Dogs are simply crazy
about sausages. Ours always sniff and lick their lips
whenever Mammy Bun cooks any. I'll go and invite
Rod’s brother’s dogs and Rap’s little terrier, — they are
acquainted with Quick and Mr. Wolf, so there won’t be
any fighting, — while you go and ask Mammy if she has
plenty of sausages.”

So this is how Camp Saturday came to be full of the
smell of frying one Friday evening, and the reason, also,
: 349
350 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

why Quick and Mr. Wolf shared their rug with a mon-
grel terrier, a collie, and a setter pup, —six pounds of
sausages, divided between five dogs of mixed sizes and
a coon, having produced good nature and a desire to go
to sleep in Dogville.

Rap had brought his Gray Squirrel as a gift to Nat,
and an old wheel cage having been found in the attic,
Frisk, as they named him, was safely housed in it and
became an object of great interest.

“He is ever so much bigger than the Red Squirrels
and Chipmunks we have here at the farm,” said Nat,
“and he has the finest tail I ever saw.”

“The plumy tail is an important feature in the Squir-
rel family. Sciuride, the name the Wise Men give it,
means ‘those who sit in the shadow of the tail,’ and
you can see when Frisk jerks his tail over his back that
it makes quite a good umbrella.”

“Chipmunks haven’t such nice tails, though,
Rap; “theirs are quite thin and not a bit plumy.”

“They belong to the striped-backed Ground Squir-
rels, who are of a lighter build in every way.”

“ Are there any Ground Squirrels? I thought they all
lived in trees. Do Squirrels gnaw things, and are they
nuisance animals like the mice and rats?” asked Nat.

“The Ground Squirrels are all more or less mis-
chievous, as you will realize when you remember that
in climbing the ladder to look for the Woodchuck and
Prairie Dog you found them on the general branch
belonging to the Ground Squirrel family.”

“So we did,” said Olive; “but I hardly realized that
they were related to Squirrels except in the fact that
they are all gnawers.”

99

said
MISCHIEF MAKERS 351

“Perhaps, daughter, you will write the list on the
blackboard for us, so that we shall see the connection
more plainly. There are sixty or seventy North Ameti-
can species of Tree and Ground Squirrels, but if I tell
you of seven or eight, besides the Woodchuck and
Prairie Dog, which you already know, it will be as
much as you can remember.”

Tree Squirrels.

Medium-sized ears. Cheeks with inside pouches for carrying
food. Clawed feet suitable for climbing. Plumy tails.

Here belong, beginning with the smallest, the Flying, Red,
Gray, and Fox Squirrels.

Ground Squirrels.

Smaller, with cheek pouches, living in ground, but spending
some time in the trees. The best known of this group is the Chip-
munk.

Next come the heavy, ground burrowers, the Prairie Dog and
Woodchuck, whom certainly nobody would ever accuse of trying
to climb trees, and then follow two Spermophiles, the mischievous
Ground Squirrels (so called) of the plains, who seem to bear a
resemblance to both the tree and ground varieties, some having
large and others small tails.

“You know something about our Common Squirrels,
Rap; suppose you tell us what you have noticed,” said
the Doctor, “and I will help you over hard places.”

“T’ve watched Squirrels a good deal, but I shouldn’t
like to say that I know them,” said Rap, hesitating ;
“for when you think you've seen all their ways, you
find you’ve only just begun. There are plenty of
Squirrels hereabout, and they seem to live in a great
many different places. The Gray Squirrels and the Fly-
352 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

ing ones seem to like the Miller’s far woods best, where
there are oaks, hickories, and beech trees, but the Red
Squirrels live farther over toward our house, where the
trees mostly have cones and berries like spruces and
cedars, with choke cherries and hazel bushes growing
along the stone fences, and the Chipmunks live right
in the stone fence and under our woodshed.

“T think the Flying Squirrel is the prettiest of them
all,” continued Rap, pausing as if he did not know
exactly where to begin. “It has a dear little face with
very black eyes and a few long whiskers. It is a sort
of mousy gray on top and white underneath, and its
paws look like tiny bits of hands, with the tops of the
fingers swelled out, and it has long nails that are coy-
ered up by the fur.”

“Good!” exclaimed the Doctor; “how did you see
so much in the dark, which is the only time this Squir-
rel is out?”

“T had one in a cage last winter; the Miller’s boy
gave it tome. It grew very tame, and I let it out in the
spring so it could go and find a mate and not be lonely,
but it came back to the house last summer and crawled
inmy window. At first I thought it was a bat that had
flown in, and then I saw that it had a tail and no wings.”

“Tf it has no wings, how can it fly?” asked Dodo.

“The skin of its back reaches down on its legs, the
same as if I put a blanket over my back and fastened it
to my wrists and ankles. It runs up to the top of a
tree, or out to the end of a branch, and gives a big jump
down or across to another tree. It doesn’t really fly or
flap its arms as if they were wings, but spreads them to
keep from falling and catches the wind like a flat kite.”




FLYING SQUIRRELS.
MISCHIEF MAKERS 8538

“Why doesn’t it go crooked and spin around?”
asked Nat; “a kite would if it hadn’t a string to hold
it and a long tail.”

“You must remember,” said the Doctor, “that a
Squirrel is alive and springs in the direction he wishes
to go; the skin flaps help him to remain in the air, and
his tail, which spreads flatly and is not thick like other
Squirrels’, both balances and steers him. Olive, dear,
look in the portfolio and give me the picture of the
Flying Squirrel. There, now you can see at a glance
how he goes!”

“Then they can only fly down or across, but not up,”
said Olive.

“They can rise very slightly, but not much higher
than a Gray Squirrel can by leaping. Tell us what
else you have noticed about them, Rap.”

“The first time I ever saw them was three years ago
in spring. The Miller’s boy said there was a hickory
tree with a hole in it, back of their pond, where a lot of
long-tailed Bats lived. He was looking for Wood-
peckers’ eggs late one afternoon, and he saw the hole
but he couldn’t quite reach it, so he knocked on the
bark to see if a bird would come out, and instead out
popped one of these Squirrels, but the light seemed to
hurt its eyes and it hurried in again.

“A couple of weeks after, when the moon was full,
we went up to the woods about Bat time and climbed
way up in an oak tree that stood close to the hickory,
and waited for the long-tailed Bats to come out.

“The Nighthawks were out, and the Whip-poor-wills
and a couple of kinds of Bats came along pretty soon,
and we saw a Skunk sneaking across to the pond, but

2A
354 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

nothing came out of the hole in the hickory. I thought
the. Miller’s boy had mistaken the tree, when all of a
sudden he gave mea pinch. I looked over, and there
were the things coming out of the hole and running
and scrambling up the tree like Mice. I knew as soon
as I saw them they were some kind of Squirrels, but I
didn’t know they could fly, until one got to the top of
the tree and put right off into the air to another tree
twenty feet away, all the others after him as if they
were playing, for there were a couple more holes fur-
ther up in the tree that we didn’t see at first.

“We couldn’t make out about the way they flew that
night, so we kept going there all summer and up to
snow time we found out a good many things. The
Squirrels didn’t mind us a bit after they saw we
wouldn’t touch them. They had sort of playhouse
nests made of leaves and stuff up in the tree branches
that they used in summer, but in spring when the little
ones are born, and when it grows cold in the fall, they
stay in the holes.”

“Do they hz-ber-nate?” asked Dodo, who was taking
great pains to learn the word.

“I don’t know whether they sleep all the time in
winter like Woodchucks, but they pack away food,
because we saw them, and they stay in their holes any-
way. There’s another real cute thing they do,— the
mothers take their little ones and fly away with them
if they are frightened.

“Last June one of the oldest Squirrel trees was
partly blown over against another, and though it was
day time, a Squirrel ran out of her home with a good-
sized young one sort of tucked up between her arms
MISCHIEF MAKERS 855

and her chin. She sailed right off to an oak tree with
it and went back to get another, but when she saw that
the tree was jammed, she seemed to know that it couldn’t
fall any further and so she went over and brought the
young one back. Do you know she held it and steadied
it with her mouth, and it had its arms tight round her
neck as if it were a real child!”

“I’m going up to see them next spring,” said Nat.
“ Are they good or bad Squirrels, and what do they
eat?”

“They are harmless little creatures,” said the Doctor,
“and trouble the farmer very little. Their chief food,
beside nuts, consists of seeds of various kinds, insects,
beetles, and, I am sorry to say, a few birds’ eggs and
birds that their night-prowling habits and flying leaps
make it very easy for them to take. All the Tree
Squirrels do some harm, if there are too many about,
as well as their ground cousins, but they are so jolly
and companionable, adding to the beauty of woods and
byways and the pleasure of our walks, that J am in-
clined to excuse the tribe as heedless mischief makers,
rather than condemn them as evil-doers.”

“Red Squirrels are pretty bad to have near the gar-
den,” said Rap, feelingly. ‘This year they split up half
of our seckel pears to eat the seeds, and they stole lots
of the red pie-cherries to get the pits. They think that
cherry stones are some early sort of nuts, I guess, and
half of July they sat up in that tree twirling them
round in their paws while they gnawed into the meat.
I wouldn’t mind that so much, but they suck birds’
egos and bite little birds, too, when they feel like it.
They know where all the birds live, for they are up
356 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

and down every tree. They can watch the bush nests
when they cut across lots on the fences and walls, as
they do all the time, chattering and carrying tales about
what they see.

“A pair of Red Squirrels made a nest under the old
shingles in our woodshed. The little ones were very
funny at first, with very big heads and bare skin, and
as blind as kittens. I thought that these were day
Squirrels, but this pair used to whisk out at night
sometimes, and didn’t they chatter and scold if any one
went near the nest! Mother said they were good com-
pany for her.”

“Why do you call them Red Squirrels, uncle?” asked
Nat. “I saw the pair down at Rap’s house, and they
had bright brown coats and white vests, such as the
Deer Mouse wears, not the same color that we call red
in birds like the Tanager and Cardinal.”

“Tt is a careless way of speaking, Nat; there are
very few bright-colored Mammals anywhere in the
world, and there are none, belonging on our tree, who
wear gayer coats than the Ocelot or Red Fox. So for
lack of anything brighter we call this Fox red when
bright bay would be the exact term, and we say Red
Squirrel when we mean rusty brown. However, you
may call this happy-go-lucky fellow any color you
please, it will not alter his disposition, for he is the
most interesting, impertinent, inquisitive, and talkative
member of his family. In spring and summer he is
both heard and seen, leaping from stump to stump in
some cleared field, exploring old logs, and rummaging.
in the brush pile, as if looking up storage for his pilfer-
ings, squabbling with birds, scolding Chipmunks that
MISCHIEF MAKERS 357

come too near his home, and keeping up an incessant
chatter from morning until night. Then, as soon as the
seeds are formed in the cones, he spends his days in the
evergreen trees shelling off the cone scales and drop-
ping the cobs to the ground, packing his cheek pockets
full of seeds to carry home, or else, if he has plenty of
time, dropping the cones to the ground, and carrying
them one by one to his cupboard to shell at leisure.
“He makes his home in a great many places, both
above and below ground, but prefers a nice tree hole
_ for winter, with its crevices well stored with nuts and
seeds, though he will eat almost anything he can find.
He does not hibernate, but merely stays indoors dur-
ing bitterly cold and windy weather. If it is snowy
and bright, you will often see his footprints in the
vicinity of one of his storehouses. If his provisions
fail, he gets into mischief by pruning trees of their
biggest buds, or making excursions to the woods and
meddling with the bait in traps set for better game; for
though the Red Squirrel has sweet meat, he is rather
small to be classed with food animals. That doubtful
honor belongs to his big brothers, the Gray and Fox
Squirrels. Cheerful as he is, he is not without troubles
of his own. Hawks and Owls will pounce upon hin,
and many annoying insects insist upon living in his
furry coat. These parasites, as they are called, abound
on all ‘nuisance animals,’ and seem to be one of Nat-
ure’s ways of keeping them from overrunning the earth.
“There is no need of describing the Gray Squirrel, for
you have one to look at to your hearts’ content. See!
he has eaten all the nuts he wishes and is trying to bury
that last one in the sand in the bottom of the cage.”
— 808 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“He uses his paws like hands,” cried Dodo. ‘See
how he pats and scratches to cover the nut, and curls
his tail over his back. Now he has gone in the wheel
forarace. He is everso tame; how long have you had
him, Rap?”

“Only about a week. Gray Squirrels grow tame very
quick, but you must be careful they don’t bite you.
One nipped my hand almost through, a couple of years
ago, when I put it into his nest.”

“Then they live in holes, too,” said Nat; “they must
need quite big ones.”

“Yes, and they build great wide tree nests, too, for I
climbed up to what I thought was a Crow’s nest one
year, and it had four queer little blind Squirrels in it.
They took ever so long to grow, nearly three months,
and after that I used to see the old ones sleeping in the
nest in daytime. They seem to go out most morning
and night.”

“Do they sleep in winter?” asked Dodo.

“Tm not sure,” said Rap; “sometimes I’ve seen them
in the winter and sometimes I have not.”

“Jt depends upon the weather,” said the Doctor.
“The Gray Squirrel does not really hibernate, but stays
curled up in bad weather like the Red Squirrel, just as
in very cold places he nests in a hole; in a medium
climate he uses either a hole or tree nest, and further
south usually a tree nest. One remarkable thing about
him is that instead of storing his food in piles, or filling
rock or tree hollows, he makes a separate cache for each
nut, and exactly how he finds the place again, the very .
wisest of Wise Men is not sure. Some say it is by a
keen sense of smell, others a good memory. For myself,


THE GRAY SQUIRREL.
MISCHIEF MAKERS 359

I think it would be easier to remember where a nut was
buried than to smell it through several inches of snow
and frozen ground.”

“Oh dear!” sighed Dodo, “if he has such a smeller
as that, how he must choke when he lives in a wood
where there are Skunks.”

“One thing more about this popular Squirrel, who
with us, as you see, wears a light gray winter coat tinged
with brown. Further north he sometimes appears with-
out rhyme or reason in a fine black coat, just as the
Screech Owl is sometimes gray and sometimes red —a
Dichromatie Phase is what the Wise Men call this.

“Tf the Gray Squirrel changes his hue according to
where he lives, his cousin the great Fox Squirrel out-
does even the Varying Hare. I will show you some
colored pictures of him in my Audubon and Bachman’s
Quadrupeds, that I sent for to town last week.

“See, one is black with white nose and ears, one is
gray with yellowish legs, and a third is yellowish brown
with white ears, nose, and a dark face. The commonest
coat worn, and the one most often seen, is dappled gray,
with the nose, ears, feet, and under-parts whitish. One
thing you can be sure of, no matter what this Squirrel’s
coloring may be, he is very large (less than two inches
shorter than a Woodchuck), has a long tail, and white
ears and nose. He is found in some one of his many
coats in most parts of the United States, where he can
find high ground and tall pine trees. He likes cones and
has his home nest and nursery in a tree hole, though he
usually makes an outdoor nest which he uses as a summer
house. If you happen to be near where the Fox Squir-
rels live, you will surely see or hear them, for they come
. 860 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

out by day and have a loud, barking cry. As a rule,
they take life easily, making their homes in colonies
near grain fields and managing to do the farmers a great
deal of damage. But as many of these Squirrels are
shot for food, the farmer gets some of his grain back in
the shape of Squirrel meat.









CHIPMUNK.

“Now let us spend five minutes on the ground with
the Chipmunk and his kin. You all know the Chip-
munk as well as you do the eens ppanroys even
if you had not his picture before you.’

“Oh, yes, I know him just as well as I do a Robin,”
said Dodo. “He’s the Squirrel that has a hole under
one of the spruces where the hammock is hung, and
stays mostly on the ground, but runs up trees for cones
and to peep in nests, too, sometimes. He’s little and
MISCHIEF MAKERS 861

jerky ; his coat is brown and yellow, with black and light
stripes running the long way of him. His tail is rather
thin, and I know. he’s got cheek pockets, because I’ve
seen them puffed out so full he couldn’t speak, and that
one by the hammock is as friendly as a Catbird.” .

“Good!” cried the Doctor, while the others clapped
their hands. ‘“ You have given us an excellent snap-
shot picture of his Munkship. If you could look into
that hole under the spruce, you would see that there are
many little passages and storerooms running this way
and that, from the bedroom where the Chipmunk is
probably sleeping soundly at this moment. They have
thin fur, like the Flying Squirrel, and dread the cold so
much that they hole up early and never even peep out
until March; so if you ever see a small Squirrel frisking
over the snow, you will know that it is a Red Squirrel
and not a Chipmunk, without looking for his stripes.
They also cache food in different places, like the Gray
Squirrel, and nest often in old stumps or under stone
fences. ‘They eat all sorts of seeds, from weed. seeds to
cherry pits, some insects, and they also, I am sorry to
say, suck birds’ eggs.

“Only this summer, Dodo, I saw your pet sitting
near the hammock holding a Robin’s egg carefully in
his hands, while he was slowly sucking egg-nog out of
its beautifully tinted cup. A book, and a big one at
that, could be written about the Chipmunk’s interesting
ways, but we must leave him to glance at the pictures
of two of his vagabond kin, of the Spermophile branch
of the house, that bother the farmers of the plains and
prairies, one even scrambling among the ledges of the
Rocky Mountains.
. 862 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

« Snermophile means seed lover, and these little beasts
eat seeds of every description, and are cannibals to boot.
I have merely a bowing acquaintance with them, but
the Chief of the Wise Animal Men at Washington
says: ‘Scarcely a seed or grain grows where they live
that is not eaten by them... wheat, oats, barley,
rye, corn, etc... . But their food is by no means
restricted to seeds, for they are fond of fruits, roots,
and insects ... eat lizards, mice, or any kind of fresh
meat. ... If one of their own species is found dead,
it is promptly eaten, thus proving that they are canni-
bals... .’? They do eat harmful insects also, but not
enough to pay for the crops of corn and grain, which
they commence to devour as soon as the seed is planted.
And they keep on, with the ear in the milk and the ripe

|







STRIPED SPERMOPHILE.
MISCHIEF MAKERS 363

grain, cutting and gnawing the season through. The
Spermophiles, therefore, are on the farmer’s misery lst
with the Gophers, and the owners of wheat fields, at
least, are beginning to think the hungry Coyote a rather
clever dog after all.

“The best known of these ground burrowers of the
plains, that reach east of the Rockies from the Sas-
katchewan country down to Texas, is the pretty Striped
Spermophile. He is an inch or so longer than a Chip-
munk, lightly built and slender; his coat is striped with
light brown bands, alternating with dark, light spotted
bands, the whole coat being as exquisite and even as
a woven fabric; yet he is a perfect nuisance, dishking
woodlands, but appearing as soon as the trees are cleared,
and never venturing far up mountain sides.

“His big brother, the gray mottled Rock or Line-
tailed Spermophile, begins his range where the striped
one halts, burrows among the loose rocks on the sides
of the Rocky Mountains themselves, and is the com-
monest Mammal of the pifion belts. Here, being out
of the wheat centre, he turns his attention to robbing
hens’ nests, and has a bad reputation.”

“ What is a pifion belt?” asked Rap.

“Pifions are the western nut-bearing pines, and of
course the Ground Squirrels like to live near them.”

“Why couldn’t they train terriers to catch these
Spermophiles?” asked Olive.

“They have a trick that dogs do not like,” said the
Doctor. ‘They let a dog or other animal come quite
close, and then turn round and kick up the dust so
rapidly that the poor beast is both blinded and choked.
So much for the Mischief Makers!”
3864 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Oh, look at Mr. Wolf and listen to Rod’s puppy,”
whispered Nat; “they've had too much sausage party!
The puppy is crying as if he was afraid, and Wolf's hair
is all ridged up and he’s growling!”

“JT think he must be dreaming that the butcher’s
Newfoundland dog is walking on his side of the road,
and he never allows that, you know!” said Olive.









Rock SPERMOPHILE.
XXVI

THE BEAVER’S STORY

(AS TOLD BY HIMSELF)

EAVERS are strangely wise animals,”
\, said Dr. Roy, the evening that Nat
chose a Beaver picture, “and the
best way to give you a glimpse of
their habits and homes will be to read
you a Beaver’s story of himself.”
So saying the Doctor took some
sheets of paper from the table
; and asked Nat to bring a lamp,
: os for they usually listened to the
stories by the fire-light alone.
. “ Who wrote this story?” asked Dodo, “for of course
a Beaver can’t write, at least, I mean, in our lan-
guage,” for she had come to believe that animals can
do almost everything. “Is it your writing, Uncle Roy,
or is it daddy’s?”

“Come and see for yourself.”

“Tt is nobody’s writing; it is printed with a type-
writing machine,” said Olive. ‘I suppose Olaf would
say that the Dream Fox did it.”

“No questions answered,” laughed the Doctor. “No
matter how the story found its way into words, or if it
sounds like a fairy tale, I can promise that every word
365






366 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

of it is true. If you doubt it, you may ask the very
first Wise Man you meet.

(A Beaver LEAVES HIS Work TO cuat A Few Moments IN
rue Mooniigur)

“¢T am a fourfoot of a very ancient family and one
of the oldest of Mammals. Land and water both
desired to own me, so Nature planned me to be shared
by both, giving me the fore paws of a land animal and
the strong webbed hind feet of a swimmer.

“¢ Ag I sit on this low bank and look at my reflection
in the pond, it seems to me that, though I ama decidedly
remarkable and intelligent beast, I am very plain, or,
an ill-natured person might say, ugly in appearance.
My body is about three feet long from my nose to the
beginning of my tail. I slope fore and aft, humping
up in the middle like a haystack. My long claws are
of the pattern given to burrowers, from the Badger to
the Gopher, and my four gnawing teeth, of a strange
design, are curved and powerful, the lower two being
five and the upper pair four inches long. Yet they are
set so deeply in the jaw that, little more than an inch
of them is seen, like tools that are braced deeply in
their handles to give extra strength. The outside of
these teeth is of a stronger texture than the inside,
which causes them to wear down toward the back,
giving them the cutting edge of a keen chisel.

“¢TLook at my tail! It is nine inches long, and in
the middle half as wide as its length; it is a flat, scaly
paddle, in fact. You shall see how it serves me as a
rudder, a danger signal, and a mason’s trowel.

““¢The color of my fur coat is usually reddish brown,
@

>

ay



AT WoRK.

EAVERS

B
THE BEAVERS STORY 367

tinged variously with yellow and sometimes veiled with
black. My under-fur is all plain brown, about half an
inch long and soft as a Seal’s. It was this fur that led
my race into trouble, and caused us to be so popular
with trappers that we were killed out from about the
rivers and ponds where House Children might have
seen our lodges and runways as freely as they do those
of the Muskrat. Our soft, even fur made fine Beaver
hats; our pelts were strong and elastic —they made
good gloves; our tails were layered with fat — they
made good eating for the Indians. Once we were so
important that the great Fur Company of Hudson’s
Bay stamped our name upon a coin for a sign of value,
“1 Made Beaver.”

“*So we were trapped in and out of season, cruelly
and wastefully, young and old together, until we are but
a small tribe, and in all this wide country we inhabit
but a few solitary spots, and so you do not know us.

“*T am a wonder to the Wise Men, and there are
many thirigs about me that they cannot understand.
According to their ways of measuring and judging, I
am low among the Mammals. They find that I have a
small heart and lungs, that I breathe slowly, have no
skill as a hunter, and prefer to live on harsh vegetable
food, such as the bark of soft-wooded trees. They look
at my teeth and put me in the tribe of gnawers, — the
family of Rats, Mice, and other nuisance animals. But
when they come to watch me at my work, and see that I
am a wood-chopper, architect, engineer, and mason, they
are indeed puzzled, for they say: “ A Beaver has a small,
smooth brain; people who think have wrinkled brains.
How comes this, fora Beaver thinks and plans?” Then
368 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the Wise Men confess that Iam the most interesting
animal on the whole Mammal tree (except man himself),
and that they really know very little about me. The
Indian, who knows all our ways, holds us more highly,
weaving many stories about us, welcoming us as pets in
the lodges, and loving us as House People love their
dogs.

“¢Now you know how I look. I will tell you how
and where I live, beginning with the springtime, in
May, when every industrious pair of Beavers who own
a home burrow and a woodpile, have, maybe two, or
maybe half a dozen little Beavers in their house. As
you know, we live about ponds and watercourses, and
our summer homes are made in this fashion: Finding a
good bank of clay or loam, by a favorite stream, we look
for a place where the soil is braced by tree roots. Then
we dive and begin a burrow under the water, going up
into the bank, cutting through roots, and rolling out
stones, until we have made two chambers, — an outer one
for food, and an inner one above the water level fora
living room, with a place for air to come in at the top
among the tree roots. You may wonder why our door-
way is always under water. It is so that we may swim
out and not rise to the surface near our home, showing
enemies where we live. Does not the Ovenbird slip
from her nest, and, running through the underbrush,
make her flight at a distance, for the same reason ?

“* A few weeks after our young are born they begin
to gnaw soft bark, and then they soon join us in our
wood-cutting excursions. The trees we love best for
food are those with juicy bark, like the yellow birch,
cotton-wood, poplar, and willow. If we are very hungry,
THE BEAVER’S STORY 869

we can eat walnut, ash, and the harder maples; but we
do not relish them, and we sometimes use lily roots and
grass for salad. It would be wasteful merely to gnaw
the bark around the trunks of trees, besides this is not
as tender as the bark covering the branches; so, as we
may not climb, nothing is left us but to fell the trees.
Then we select a tree a foot or more in thickness, and
begin our cutting from each side, upward and down-
ward, our teeth making short, chisel-like grooves, hew-
ing out wide chips. When the tree falls we run, and,
diving, swim to our burrows lest some enemy should
hear the noise and catch us at our work.

“* When all is quiet, we come out again, and like
good craftsmen begin to chop our wood in lengths to
carry home. We cut our fagots, measuring by their
weight instead of length, so that a thick limb will be
chopped in strips a foot in length, a thinner one two
feet long, and so on, for we know how much a Beaver
may carry easily. The wood is then taken to the store-
house of the burrow. The thick pieces we roll along
down the bank perhaps, holding them between paws
and chin in swimming, which we do easily, using our
tails as rudders to guide us with our load. The smaller
twigs we hold in our mouths, the ends trailing over our
shoulders to the ground. If any logs are hard to move,
we often use our tails as levers to pry them along, and
our tails also help us to lift up in our arms the great
stones, which we often have to move in building.

“¢When the right trees are near our water homes,
all goes well, but sometimes the near woods are all
eaten or otherwise destroyed. The water from the
ponds often runs back and floods the lowlands where

223
370 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

we have cut down all the trees, making it so wet that
‘no more trees will grow; and rich, tall grass springs up,
covering the decayed stumps. House People call these
places Beaver Meadows. We do not like the wood of
evergreens, and so often we have to search far away
from water for our food, and after the trees are cut,
they must be carried a weary distance home. We have
two ways of doing this: one is to make a straight path-
way by felling everything that would interfere with us;
the other is to dig a canal between ponds or streams
and, letting in water, float our wood home, as House
People float their logs from lumber camps to sawmills.

“¢Having made our canal, three feet wide and as
many deep, we must arrange to keep the water deep
enough for our work. Deep water is a “must be” in
the Beaver world, whether in canals or in the ponds
and rivers. The water must be high enough to cover
the doorway of the burrows.

“«Next comes our work as engineers, for we have to
build dams to keep the water back and make it stand
at the exact depth we wish.

“¢ House People have all seen the dams that keep
the water in their mill ponds; but we build longer,
better ones than theirs, sometimes perhaps they may be
only a few feet in length, but at others many hundred.
Often we begin by interlacing growing bushes with
sticks, filling the gaps with stones and mud on the water
side, then adding sticks from time to time below, until
we have made our barrier strong enough. At other
times we build over fallen trees, and raise a dam from
them of almost solid mud, strengthened with tree boughs.
We are never wasteful, and seldom use fresh wood for
THE BEAVER’S STORY 371

this work, but save the sticks from which the bark has
all been gnawed for all our building. Another thing
we do, — we curve our dams up stream. Do you know
why? If you were trying to push something, or some
one back, would you stand straight up, or would you
bend forward to meet the strain, and thus gain added
strength? You would bend, of course, and so we bend
our dams to push the waters back. We may be stupid
and clumsy and ranked with Rabbits and Rats; our eyes
and brains may be small, but you must see by this that
we are rather clever-at thinking.

«¢ All summer we feed and work and play, making and
repairing dams and felling our wood by night, but some-
times stopping to be idle, and rolling and basking in the
sunlight. We are ever on the watch, however, even in
play time, our keen ears catching the faintest sound of
warning, and our alarm signal is far reaching. Our
sentry has but to dive, bringing his flat tail with a
quick, sharp blow upon the water, and the noise is
echoed far and wide. Spat! spat! spat! go the tails
of all the Beavers in the region as they disappear.
Even when we lie sunning ourselves, we are on the
alert, for it is Beaver law that when at rest every pair
must lie facing each other so that, one looking each
way, nothing may steal up unawares, and if we are
suspicious even, we rise up on our haunches and listen
to catch every breath.

“*In September the serious task of cutting winter
wood begins. We do not sleep the winter sleep, so
we need food in plenty and better shelter than our
bank burrows, for we live in places where ice and snow
have a long season. Once in the far back, perhaps, the
872 FOUR-FOOTED .AMERICANS

climate was not so cold, but the Wise Men say that we
American Beavers have been building dams and winter
lodges for thousands of years, and they can prove their
words by digging and showing you our ancient earth-
works. How we came to need our island lodges is a
legend in our faimily, but one that Heart of Nature will
not yet let us tell, lest no one should believe it.

“«Fach Beaver family has its own lodge, for though
we are sociable we do not approve of hotel life, and at
most, several families may have lodges in the same
pond. ° We Beavers know the places where warm
springs, deep from the earth, feed the ponds, and near
these spots we make our buildings. Starting from some
sunken island, we begin our heap of sticks, building a
thick mud and wicker wall and arching poles to support
the roof of a living room, which is some half dozen feet
across and well above the water line. ‘This lodge has
two entrances below water,—one for the family and
one for food wood.

“Before ice and snow stop our tree-cutting excur-
sions, every Beaver household moves into its lodge and
has a sunken woodpile close at hand, from which the
daily provisions can be taken by swimming under the
ice. We Beavers can swim a half mile under water
without rising through the breathing holes. You may
wonder why, in the cold countries where we live, the
ponds and rivers do not freeze to the bottom, or sudden
thaws drown us out. In the first place, we make our
dams the right height to give us the exact depth of
water we need, and nature guides us where to build near
the warm spring holes that keep the ice thin, and the
heavy snows also helping us by shutting out the cold.
THE BEAVER’S STORY 373

Then, if we see a freshet coming, we make a gap in the
dam to let the water off, or if it rises too quickly, as
sometimes in early spring, we swim for refuge to our
summer bank burrows. Sometimes our woodpile grows
water-soaked and sour, and we are glad when a thaw
lets us cut down a fresh supply; but usually our win-
ter life is happy and comfortable, for here in this spot
no trappers may come to harry us from our homes.

“* Our children stay with us until they are two years
old, so each lodge harbors, besides the parents, the eight
or ten children of two seasons. We are affectionate
among ourselves, but are bound to keep Beaver law,
which says that the young of every lodge, when fully
grown, shall go out, find mates, and build lodges for
themselves. Also, that they shall always go further
down stream than their old homes. Down stream
means the building of new dams and extra labor, which
is most suitable for those with strong young teeth.
The older Beavers, when they need new lodges, may
go up stream to easy quarters; for as a Beaver grows
old, and toward the end of his fifteen years of life, his
teeth are dulled, and he cannot cut wood so easily for
house and dam building. Beaver law despises laziness
and says no Beaver shall steal from another Beave1’s
woodpile, and the penalty for such a theft is death!
The Indians know these laws and how well we keep
them. Often in a long cold winter, when all our bark
is eaten, we gnaw up the hard wood itself for food, or
pinch and starve rather than break the law.

“*Hach pair of Beavers. are rulers in their lodge,
building and repairing their own dams unaided except
by members of their families; for sociable as we are, we
3874 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

neither live nor work in colonies. If our young do not
choose mates the first season that they leave us, they
may come home that winter, but not again. Afterwards
they must join the wanderers and those Beavers who,
having lost their mates, refuse to take another. Thus our
lives go on, — hewing, storing, planning, building, and
repairing, unless trappers break up our peaceful homes.

“¢T who tell this story live on Lost Creek, which runs
through protected land, where no trap may take me, and
Iam fat, happy, and content. I have a mate who isa
clever-tree chopper, and we are now building, raising
our dam a foot or so, and mending places where our mis-
chievous cousins the Muskrats have poked holes; some-
times they even try to share our lodges with us, like the
impudent rats they are. We must deepen. the water
around a new lodge that we shall finish to-morrow; its
roof poles are of poplars from the nearby bank, the sides
are braced by willow and poplar basketwork, and I have
beaten the mud covering hard and smooth with my flat
tail. Our lodge has a broad entrance for wood also, where
the cuttings will not stick when carried in, and a large
dry room for my family of nine young and half-grown
Beavers who helped me with the work, thus learning
how to hew and build the lodges some of them will have
to make for themselves next season.

“¢ Yet in spite of all this work of mine, the Wise Men
say, and think they prove it by my body, that I am but
a slow, lowly Mammal, no huntsman, and a cousin of
Rabbits and Rats, with a small smooth brain that has no
business to think and plan. I prove by my own works
that I have both thought and judgment, and I wish that
you could visit me and see my work yourself.
THE BEAVER’S STORY 375

“« Hist! the alarm beat comes down river! Beaver
law says dive and strike water with your tail in going;
so travels the signal through the moonlight. I hear a
crashing in the brushwood —now my turn comes! A
good evening to you!’ (The Beaver dives.)

“Splash! not a Beaver within sight. The September
moon shows heaps of sticks and black water, while a
restless Moose, seeking its mate, wades along the pond
edge drinking and snatching mouthfuls of water-lily
stems that will be soon cut down by the frost, then
bellows a joyful answer to a faint call from far up the
river.”
XXVIT

“BARS AND POSSUMS”

story about ‘Possums and Bears,’”
said Mr. Blake, as they gathered by
the campfire before supper one Satur-
day evening in February, and Rap, on
looking through the portfolio, had chosen these
two animals of widely different sizes and fami-
lies.

‘“‘Perhaps she will,” echoed Dodo, clapping her
hands; “for she’s promised to cook supper for us to-
night, —‘ole-time supper,’ she calls it, with hoe-cakes,
eggs, frizzly bacon and rice done up somehow with
pickle sauce. We had it once before, and it was
dreffly good!”

“Tt says Opossum on the picture,” said Nat, “but
everybody calls them Possums, from Mammy even to
Uncle Roy. Mammy knows lots about them, and she
says they are nicer to eat than spring chicken or little
roast pig.”

“But how can she tell us about Bears?” said Dodo.
“They are great savage beasts of cold countries and big
mountains. Mammy never lived in any such places!”

“You are thinking of the Grizzly Bear and his great

white brother who tramps along the shores of Arctic
376


“BARS AND POSSUMS” 377

seas, but the beast of our picture is the common Ameri-
can Bear, called Brown and sometimes Black Bear, who
is still found in almost every state in the Union and in
a few places in Canada also, in spite of the fact that
he has been diligently hunted from the moment House
People set foot on these shores.”

“Are there any very near here now?” asked Dodo,
anxiously.

“Not in this state, but in others near by; in Massa-
chusetts, Maine, New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland,
Virginia, and all down through the mountains of
Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Louisiana where
Mammy was born, though she moved up to Kentucky
later on.”

“Are they as strong and savage as Grizzlies?” asked
Rap.

“ They are as strong for their size, but not as savage
and will never attack man unless cornered, or in defence
of their young.”

“ What made you choose a little and a big animal for
a story, Rap?” asked Olive, “and two that aren’t alike
in any way ?”

“T’m not so sure about that,” said Mr. Blake; “for
though they live far apart on the Mammal tree, there
are four ways in which they do resemble each other. I
will give youa riddle, and you must answer it at the end
of the evening. Why is a Possum like a Bear? ~

“Meanwhile, Dodo, run and ask Mammy if she will
tell us a story, and while she is cooking supper I will
tell you a few things about the Black Bear, as we see
him in the North, that Mammy may not know.”

“Yes, she will come!” said Dodo, flying back; “she
378 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

says thinking of making hoe-cakes by a wood fire takes
her straight back to Possum days. Only she’s going to
bring her griddle to bake the cakes on; for she says only
poor trash that had no griddles baked their cakes on
hoes down South, and she wants plenty of hot ashes
raked out in front.”

“Mammy shall be obeyed,” said Mr. Blake, arranging
the fire.

“Yes,” said his wife, smiling, “and I think we had
better go in a far corner and keep out of Mammy’s way
until supper is ready. She is very good-natured, but
set in the opinion that ‘too many cooks spoil the
broth!’ ” :

“Good advice, as usual. Now look at this picture of
the Black Bear. He stands a trifle under three feet at
the shoulder, weighs commonly anywhere from four to
six hundred pounds, and in the early part of the winter
season at least, wears a smooth, glossy black outside coat
that makes his pelt valuable for many purposes, from rugs
to fur trimming. He has long claws, and four sharp dog-
teeth or meat-eaters. His hind legs seem longer than
the fore legs when he ambles along, and he walks on the
soles of his feet as man does, which make him what the
Wise Men call a plantigrade Mammal.

“Tn the more northerly places this Bear lives in dense
evergreen forests, and dens up from four to six months
in the cold season, but in the South his haunts are
among the cane-brakes and tangles of live oaks and
palmettos, and he does not Ai-ber-nate. Either in the
North or South, however, he is a wary beast to hunt,
having keen ears and many cunning ways. He is hard
to reach unless trailed by dogs, which method of taking
“ B'ARS AND POSSUMS” 379

him is about as barbarous a sport as exists out of the
country of Bull fighting. Even if the Bear has done
evil things and you do not care for him, it is cruel to
urge spirited dogs within reach of his teeth and claws,
for Bruin is courageous when brought to bay and sells
his life dearly.

“ The Black Bear is ranked with flesh-eaters, but he’
should have an order all to himself, to be called, ‘The
Order of Gluttony,’ for he is ready to eat anything at
any time, —fish, flesh, game, poultry, turtles’ eggs, frogs,
fruits, and berries, all mixed together with as much honey
in the comb and out of it as he can scoop from hollow
trees, in spite of the pointed remonstrance of hordes of
angry bees. Honey failing, he will sit in a cherry tree
and gobble until you would expect to hear. the cherry
stones rattling about inside him.





Brack BEAR.
380 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“In winter, when Bears den up, they often unknow-
ingly set traps to catch themselves. Sometimes a Bear
prepares a cave home with a good bed, but more often
merely hollows out a place under a bank or tree root to
curl up in. Snow comes, covering everything many feet
deep. Thawing and freezing makes a hard outside crust,
and the Bear’s warm breath melts the snow inside until
it is turned into a thick ice cage that shuts him in.
Sometimes hunters see the steam rising from these caves
or break through them quite by accident, and Bruin
is caught.”

“Do they live in family holes, like Beavers?” asked
Rap.

“No, each Bear has its own den. The cubs are born
in these dens late in winter, and of all the feeble, miser-
able baby animals, Bear cubs are the most forlorn. They
are no larger than kittens, furless and blind, and they
do not open their eyes for a,month or more, while their
mother is obliged to play that she is a sitting hen and
keep them warm under her fur until they are a couple
of months old. When five or six months old, however,
they become very clever, doing a hundred funny tricks.
Only two or three cubs are found in a den, and they are
usually two years old before any little brothers come to
dispute their rights. Cowardly as these animals are
generally, it is a very dangerous thing, whgn walking on
snow-shoes, to break through into a she-Bear’s den. If
possible, she won’t let you go to tell the tale of where
you found her.”

“Are Bears good to eat?” asked Rap.

“It depends upon circumstances; if they are young,
fat, and have lived upon clean food, nuts and berries —
“ B’ARS AND POSSUMS” 3881

yes. If they are old, stagy prowlers, who have been
alongshore fishing for a living, or eating carrion —they
make decidedly poor food.”

“De bac’n am done to der turn, and de caikes is all
ready,” said Mammy, and they hastened to the table.

“ B’ars and Possums,” chuckled Mammy, looking into
the fire as they gave her the seat of honor, all having
helped wash the dishes so that no time might be lost.

“B’ars and Possums, hoe-caikes and bac’n, dem was
fine times — dat is, when they was fine! Seems lke I
can see der old cabin right on de edge ’tween the fields
and de sweet-gum and gincos an’ ’simmon trees!”

“Was that where the Possums lived?” asked Mrs.
Blake, gently, because when Mammy went back to the
good old times, they were so many miles off that it was
sometimes difficult to get her home again.

“Possums? Possums lib eberywhar! Lib all ober
Souf when I was a gal. Dem times gone, like *nuf
Possums gone too! Possum lib in tree holes, same as
Coon does; eat ebery kind ob tings, same as Coon does.
Possum goes a walkin’ out at night, same as Coon does;
Possum make good eatin’, same as Coon does. My lan’!
how Sambo did like Coon and Possum! Massa Brans-
comb he war very ’ticular no folks should hunt Possum
and Coon in spring and summer time. An’ when he
dasn’t go huntin’ of em, Sambo he jest sing about ’em,
like he’d fly away —‘ Possum up de gum tree’ war his
fav rite song. :

“Den when he war a cortin’ me, time he stole de
Mockers ter git de banjo, he corted me wif Coons and
Possums too. My! didn’t dis chile hab good eatin’
382 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

long dose times!” and Mammy broke into a mellow
laugh.

“Then Mr. Branscomb protected Possums on his
plantation?” said Mr. Blake.

“Doan know if he call it pertected. All he says
was —‘Doan let me ketch none o’ you boys a touchin’
Possums till de corn’s ripe. If dey need killin’, I kin
ten’ to it myself till den.’

“One day he come roun’ to de cabin and he says:
‘Doan you know dat little Possums has big ’lashuns dat
lib down Australy way, what carries dere babies in a
big apron pocket, jest ike Possum does, and am bigger
dan a man, and jump, jump ‘long on hind legs quicker
dan Rabbitsrun? Well, den, youlisten! Dis big cousin
he swim ober sea and come here visitin’ litle cousin
along in spring’ and summer, and if he find niggers
chasin’ lit’le cousin in de woods, he put dem niggers in
his pocket and carry dem off wif him. Hims name
K-a-n-g-a-r-o-o!’ Lan’! how Massa roll dat word out
long! And dough we know he were a foolin’ o’ us wid
stories, we didn’t go in dem woods dose times nebber!

“ Now de Possum am a cunnin’ lit’le fellar, not much
bigger dan a cat. He got bright lit’le eyes an’ a white
face and a snout mos’ like a pig. He got a soft co’t,
some sho’t brown fur, and some long and white, only it
don’t lie soft like cat fur; it all stick wp and rumfles.
His four legs has got hands on all ob dem, instead 0’
feet, and he can climb like de mischief. He hab got
anoder han’ too, a l-o-n-g rat tail, dat curl roun’ like er
snake. It holes on jest like it war a han’, and Possum
wind it roun’ der branch and hang hisself down and go
mos’ ter sleep.
“B’ARS AND POSSUMS” 383

“But ain’ dem Possums got queer ways? I seen ’em
often walkin’ along der fiel’s sidewise-like aw’ slow-like
in de moonlite, lying down and playin’ dey’re daid if
anybody touch ‘em, den up to monkey tricks all by
derselves. Dey can smell good too, —as good as dogs,



THE Opossum.

and keeps roun’ der oder side ob trees when folks is
comin’. Ain’ de lit’le Possum putty! Not when dey
so bery lit’le, dough. Den dey is powerful small, like
litle mice, and der ma she hab to keep ’em in her
apron pocket morna month befo’ dey can go out walkin’
on dere own legs. Poor Ma Possum, she hab a dreffly
worryin’ time, an’ am worse off’n Rabbits; for she hab in
884 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

her tree hol’ maybe twenty Possums ebery year, and
habe ter tote ’em all roun’— Rabbit she kin leave hers
in de grass nes’.

. “When little Possums furst goes out walkin’ dey
want ter ride on der ma’s back, and when she try to
shake ’em off dey curls dey tails round her like dey
was a hangin’ toa branch! Yah! Tse seen em! De
he-Possum he walk curious ike —set him foot flat down
like men does, an’ shor’s you born der B’ars walks dat
way too!

“Doan I mind one frosty time afore Cris’mus, Sambo
and me were goin’ ober to his sister Liza’s cabin, de
caine-brake side er de plantation —she did de laundry
fer de big house. But she weren’t to home, and when
we got dere, such a sight! Eberytin’ was upset! De
bake oven was all gone; de meal jar was cleaned out;
de wash tubs was rolled out, and one was bust, and de
nice rocker dat your gran’ma, Miss Olive, give Liza
when she war mar-ied was split in kin’lin’s. 2

“*Dere been a B’ar dis way!’ sez Sambo, softlike,
leanin’ down an’ lookin’ at de footprints; ‘an’ a big
B’ar too!’

“¢Does yer tink he’s eat Liza?’ says I, a quakin’ and
sinkin’ down like der jelly some cooks makes.

“*Sho,no! Liza’s all right. B’ars doan eat folks, —
only dey’s full o’ mischief. Lan’ sakes! he’s took Liza’s
pig! It’s over yonder and part eat, and here der B’ar
hab chawed and clawed der tree high up as him could
stretch; dat’s a sign for oder B’ars! Let’s skip!’ says
Sambo, a grabbin’ me and startin’.

“* What fer?’ says I. ‘You jest “lowed he wouldn’t
eat us!”
“ B°ARS AND POSSUMS” 3885

“*What fer? Fer ter tell Massa Branscomb, and
den he’ll tak’ de dogs out! ’Tain’t offen B’ars come
near de cabins, dough de far woods am full ob ’em!’

“’Twarn’t an hour afore de dogs was out, and I could
hear ’’em yelpin’. Dere was most twenty of’em. All
kin’s, —some hounds, some tarriers, and some not any
kind at all. I heard ’em go along down de edge toward
Liza’s cabin, and den when Grip — he war an ole hound —
let a yell, I knowd dey had struck de track! Well!
well! Sambo he neber come back till nigh mornin’.
He “lowed dey had a long run and a glov’us fight wid
dat B’ar. Dat Massa Johns (he was de oberseer) was
clawed, and Grip was bit, and two cur dogs got kill’d;
for dat B’ar jest backed against a tree, and fight all ober
till Massa Branscomb shoot him in de side!

“Massa gib Sambo some ob der best meat, ’cause he
found de B’ar tracks, a leaf 0’ fat, some libber, and er
chunk er rump, and nex’ day we chop it all up wif
bac’n and peppers, and tie it tight in dat leaf er fat,
and fry itin der pan. It mak’ de finest eatin’ sassage
in de worl’! Sambo he got er taste er sport and meat,
and ’lowed he liked ’em boff, so nex’ night, seein’ dere
was a moon, he went for Possums wid de Randolph
boys, — Cesar, Job, and Marcus-Relyus. Dey had
some or’nery dogs, and Sambo took de axe, and he
‘lowed to know where dere was fine Possums.

“Way dey do, dey get de dogs on de track, and
follers °em close up. Sometimes de Possum’ll get co’t
on de ground, and den he roll up and play daid, and
get kilt easy. Odder times he hide in de tree hole,
and dey hab to cut down der tree, and odder times he
stick to a branch and curl his tail aroun’, and den de

2c
386 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

boys shake him off, and de dogs dey finish him. Do
you know, shore as you born, if och man Sambo didi’t
fotch home free Possums and one big Coon. My; we
libbed high dat week! Roast Possum wid an apple in
his mouf! Lan’, I kin taste it dis yer minut!”

“T don’t see how you could eat anything as pretty as
Billy Coon,” said Dodo, reproachfully.

“Sho, honey! it was only meat to we uns, and meat
was scurce. We eat ’em like you uns eat chickens.
We didn’t eat no house pets like Billy. An’ de B’ars,
if dey warn’t kep’ down der wouldn’t be a pig left to
mak’ bac’n on de ’hole plantation, and what ud we
uns be without bae’n! Lan’! but dat furst Possum
war good! De furst one Sambo an’ me had after we
got mar-ied. An’ dat Coon he war as fat as grease, an’
dem Car’lina taters dat Massa gib Sambo, ’count ob der
B’ar, dey was jest meltin’ wid der bac’n fat! Lan’!
lan’! an’ warn’t dat Possum cracklin’ all ober when he
war roasted! We had comp’ny all dat week, I tells
yer, but yer ought to see dat— Lan’ sakes!” cried
Mammy, coming suddenly North again, “ Possums or
no Possums, I near done forgot to set dat sponge for de
buckwheat caikes!”

“ Now, who can answer the riddle?” asked Mr. Blake,
as soon as the laugh at Mammy’s sudden exit had sub-
sided. ‘Why is a Possum like a Bear?”

“T can,” said Rap, eagerly. “They both walk on the
soles of their feet, they can both climb trees, they will
both eat ’most anything, and the little Bears and Pos-
sums are feeble and tiny and aren’t good for much when
they are born, and take a lot of tending before their
eyes are open.”
XXVIII

FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE










FORE the next Saturday the
measles had grown tired of visit-
ing the children down in East
Village and came up to the farm,
without the least scrap of an
invitation; they spread their
rough, red blankets over Nat’s
and Dodo’s faces, necks, arms, and
chests, evidently making preparations
for camping there some time. So instead of going
to school the children were put to bed, each in a cot
with the back to the light, and a screen to keep off
draughts, in the south room, where there was a fine
blazing log fire.

“T suppose we must stay in here for two weeks,”
said Dodo to Nat, while they were waiting for their
‘mother to bring their breakfast. “Uncle Roy says if
you are not polite to the measles when they come to
see you, and don’t stay in the house to entertain them
and keep them warm and comfortable, they will creep
in through your skin and give you a cough or put their
fingers in your eyes and make them ache.”

“It’s nice to have special buttered toast and mother
all to ourselves,” said Nat, “but Pll miss Rap and the
camp awfully.”

387
388 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Unele says he will read to us, but we can’t have
the Audubon animal books or any of the others to hold
in our hands or look at, for fear the measles should hide
in between the leaves to steal a ride, and pop out and
visit somebody else.”

The children behaved very well. Dodo was a little
fidgety at first and couldn’t bear to look at her speckled
hands, and, as gloves pinched, insisted upon having
stockings pulled over them and fastened at the shoul-
ders. Nat laughed until he cried when he saw her
sitting up in bed trying to feed herself.

“OQ Dodo!” he gasped, “you look exactly like the
picture of the Manatee fanning his food into his mouth
with his flippers!”

A week passed, and the children were sitting up by
the fire playing checkers with a board ruled on a box
cover, and black and white bone buttons for men, when
they heard Doctor Roy’s voice saying, “It was hanging
upside down to the roof in the far end of the root
cellar, so I fetched it for the youngsters; thought it
might please em!”

“J wonder what it is,’ said Nat. “It must be a
cocoon.”

Then the Doctor came in carrying a board covered
with a wire cheese screen. “Here is a visitor that you
will be very glad to see, and who will not be afraid of
the measles. Let me introduce you to Vespertilio subu-
latus, — the little Brown Bat who had hung himself up
for the winter sleep, but, as you see, he is now quite
wide awake and ready to bite my finger, though the
light confuses him so that he is trying to find a dark
corner of the board to hide in.”
FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE 3889

“Tsn’t it jolly!” cried Nat. “You said that we
couldn’t understand rightly about the Bat’s wings, and
how they were different from a bird’s or a Flying
Squirrel’s, unless we saw one. Will you tell us about
him here to-day? Because you said we couldn’t go
back to camp for another week.”

“Yes, that is what I intended. See, I have brought
up a few pictures. You can look at them, and then
they shall have a whiff of sulphur to choke any measles
‘that might wish to follow them back to the portfolio.



LirtLEe Brown Bart.

‘““We have climbed the ladder almost to the last
branch of our Mammal tree. Here we find at the very
top, close to man himself, two orders of very strange
beasts, one living underground and one in the air. We
have seen how our Mammals are adapted to the con-
ditions in which they live. How water-lovers have
webbed feet for swimming, and climbers sharp claws,
-but- in these two great orders, Insectivora or Insect-
eating and Chiroptera or Wing-handed Mammals, the
particular development, which the Wise Men call spe-
cialization, is truly wonderful.
390 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

“Let us begin with the Insect-eaters and go under-
ground to Moletown. This tribe has a great many
different colonies scattered all over the earth, but the
residents of Moletown, that you are likely to see, will be
the Shrews or the Moles themselves. You would never
know by mere sight that these stupid-looking, mouse-
colored animals, with round, furry bodies, small eyes,
and various kinds of shovel claws, belonged so high up
in the Mammal tree, but the Wise Men have placed
them there because of their special features, some of
which you could not possibly understand.

“That the Mole was made to tunnel in the ground
and live in the dark, you can see for yourselves very
easily. Take this picture and notice how strong and
powerful the head and fore parts of the body are com-
pared to the small hind legs. The arms are fastened
close to the short neck to take up as little side room as
possible in burrowing, while the hands are broad, heavy
shovels, flesh-colored inside and edged with five short
fingers. The pink nose is pointed and very sensitive,
the eyes small and so protected with skin that many
people think them wholly blind. The fur is short, soft,
of a beautiful silvery ash gray, darkening to lead color.”

“T remember the fur,” said Dodo, “and how badly it
made my fingers smell when I tried to sew it, and you
said the smell protected the Mole. Do all the people
in Moletown have this smell, Uncle Roy?”

“Yes, our Moles and Shrews are so perfumed that
only a very hungry fourfoot will eat them, but Hawks
and Owls are not so particular.

“The Mole that you have often seen this summer
is the common species. He has a cousin hereabouts,


Common MOLE,
FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE 391

who wears an ornament on his nose like the rays of a
tiny ox-eyed daisy made in flesh; this thing is sup-
posed to aid his strong power of scent and has given
him the name of Star-nosed Mole. This Mole has a







STAR-NOSED MOLE.

longer, thicker, hairier tail than his common cousin,
but his arms are not so powerful, and he has not the
perfect shovel hands. Now, how do these tunnellers
live, what do they eat, and are they doers of good or
of evil?

‘When the Mole enters fresh ground to make a home,
he first burrows a slanting pathway a couple of inches
underground; below this the main avenues are extended
through the section he considers his farm. These wide
avenues by being constantly used become smooth and
firm from the pressure of the animal’s body, and he does
not willingly leave them, but often repairs them if they
cave in. At intervals there are short side roads from
these avenues, that serve as hiding-places or switch
tracks, for a Mole to step into when he meets one of
392 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

his family in the main passage. Six and eight inches,
or even a foot or two, below ground, connecting with
the main avenue we find the nest,—a comfortable,
domed room something the shape of an inverted six-
inch flower pot, furnished with a good bed in one
corner. This nest also has several outlets to allow the
family to escape in case of an earthquake, such as a
sub-soil plough would cause in Moleville, but we must
not confuse these avenues with the shallow burrows
the Mole is constantly throwing up in his daily search
for food.

“ Moles live chiefly on animal food, insects, grubs, and
earthworms being on their daily bill of fare. So when
we see a lawn or field ridged and uneven from their
tunnelling, we must remember that, annoying and un-
sightly as it is, if the piece of ground were not full of
evil-minded insect or worm life, the Moles would not
choose it for their hunting ground. The Mole once
having established a home can make endless excursions
from its main avenues directed to his prey, by his keen
senses of touch and smell, as accurately as the Wolf or
Fox. When frost seals the ground, he dives into a safe
deep nest and stays there until early spring, when he
-goes in search of a mate, but in open winters I have
seen his ‘hills’ rising through an old cornfield in
January.
~ People who say that the Mole eats bulbs and plant
roots make a mistake and judge by appearances only,
which you have both learned is a dangerous thing to do
when climbing the animal tree. Moles do root up the
ground and disturb plants, when grubs and larvee are
hidden among their roots. Also Meadow Mice follow
FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE 393

in Mole tracks and nibble anything they can find, from
tulips to turnips. But we have no positive proof that
Moles eat vegetable food. In fact, they are ravenous
meat-eaters, and when the experiment was made of
feeding a captive Mole with vegetables he very soon
died of starvation.?

“The Mole has his regular times of feeding, his sur-
face burrows being made commonly at early morning,
noon, and night, wet weather favoring his work by
softening the ground. There are many traps invented
to catch him, and owners of fine lawns and flower gaur-
dens owe him a grudge and would willingly besiege
Moleville with fire and sword, killing every inhabitant
if possible. From their standpoint he is a great nui-
sance. Nature would say, I suppose: ‘He is doing my
work, get rid of the evil insects yourself, —cut off his
reason for living with you and the Mole will go.’ Mean-
while here at the farm I shall continue to set traps for
him.

“There is another family of insect-eaters called Shrews
who are closely related to the Moles, though looking much
more like mice. They are small and slender, with tiny
ears and eyes that can at least tell light from darkness,
though their wonderful senses of touch and smell are
their chief guides. They feed both day and night, some-
times running along the surface of the ground in broad
daylight. They love the woods as a Mole does the open
country, and have their holes in easily reached places
under roots and in logs, for they lack the Moles’ shovel
hands for deep burrowing. ;

“The Short-tailed Shrew is our most common species.

1 Dr. C. Hart Merriam, Mammals of Adirondacks.
394 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

It is a vigorous animal, not hibernating in the coldest
weather, and you may almost mistake its tiny footprints
on the snow for bird-tracks. It is a savage little beast,
too, and a blood-thirsty fighter, being the especial enemy
of the Meadow Mouse, or Vole, as some people call it.

“ Many Wise
Men whose
words we can
trust have told
of battles be-
tween these
Shrews only
three and three-
quarter inches
long and Mead-
ow Mice four
and one - half
inches long.
One of these
men, in order to
see exactly how
it was done, put
a Shrew and a
Meadow Mouse
into a box and
watched them. Soon they were rolling about in a rough-
and-tumble fight, the Shrew biting at the ears of the
Mouse, which he finally killed and immediately began
to eat. So when we think how mischievous the Meadow
Mouse is, we should be very grateful to this Shrew
with the lead-colored fur and short tail.

“There is another Shrew, common in the middle





SHORT-TAILED SHREW.
FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE 3895

West, that contests with a tiny pocket mouse the honor
of being the ‘least beast’ on our Mammal tree. This
is the Least Shrew, who measures only a trifle over two
inches in length. When we think of the length of a
Whale, and that both Shrew and Whale are living
Mammals, belonging either on American soil or in
American waters, our Mammal tree seems to bear the





THe Least SHREW.

most wonderful fruit of which our country can boast.
I hope that many children may follow us in our climb,
as far as they are able, without being made dizzy by
trying to explore the maze of the smaller branches and
twigs.

“Look at your Bat; he has eaten the shreds of meat I
gave him. I will take him out and spread his wings for
you to see. It is always better to follow Nature’s plan
and travel upward instead of downward; so let us go up
396 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

in the trees to Batville and see how its inhabitants live
and work.

“First look at the specialization that enables the Bat
to fly with real wings, —fly, and not merely sail like
the Flying Squirrel,” said the Doctor, holding the Bat’s
wings open. “See the shoulder, elbow, and long fore-
am. The fingers begin to divide at the wrist, so the
hand has no palm. ‘There is a sort of hooked thumb,
and then the other fingers grow long and support the
skin that makes the wing, as the frame supports an
umbrella. The hind limbs, you see, are small and very
weak in contrast to the strong collar-bone and long
arms.”

“Oh, yes!” cried Nat. “Rap said a Flying Squirrel’s
coat was like a blanket fastened to the wrist and ankles,
and the Bat’s wings are all skin like a three-cornered
shawl, with its arms fastened in the top corners and the
point fastened to the tip of its tail.”

“Yes, and you remember how the bird’s wing was
like an arm with only the beginning of two fingers and
thumb, that served as a frame to hold the fringe of
feathers. Though birds are not Mammals, their branch
of the animal tree grows very close by.”

“ Are all Bats made the same way, Uncle Roy? I
remember a picture of one in a book that I had. It was
called the Vampire Bat; it ate people and belonged to
some very far away country. It must take a very big
sort of Bat to kill people.”

“The wings of all Bats are made on the same plan,
though their bodies vary greatly in size; but the forma-
tion of teeth, noses, ears, and so forth, varies.according
to the needs of the different species. Thus the Fruit-
FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE 397

eating Bat has ears and eyes of moderate size, while the
insect-eaters have very large ears, small eyes, and wide
mouths fringed with hair, that make a sort of fly-trap
akin to the Whip-poor-will’s beak. The Fruit-eating
Bats have a raised-up ring on the tongue, which gives
them great sucking power. ‘They are thus able to suck
the juice from large fruits that they cannot pick and eat.
Sometimes when very hungry they have been known
to suck the blood from the small surface veins, or
capillaries, of cattle, or even people, but they never eat
people or do any of the savage things that story books are
so fond of relating. ‘The real Vampire Bat of tropical
America, Desmodon rufus, as the Wise Men call him, is a
little fellow no larger than our Little Red Bat and has no
middle front teeth or molars, but instead has two sharp
dog-teeth that he uses to prick the flesh so that he may
suck blood. He will sometimes fasten upon the toes
of sleeping people, and the negroes are very much
afraid of him. Our familiar Bats are small and of the
insect-eating species. Four belong in the family of
Twilight Bats, called Vesper-til-ion-idw, and one to the
family of House Bats.

“Numerous as Bats are, very little is seen of them,
- for they are lovers of darkness, not coming out to hunt
their insect food until after the last Vesper Sparrow has
gone to sleep, and the Whip-poor-will has begun to com-
plain. They are obliged to take a very long winter
nap. You have seen that the insect-eating birds leave
us earlier in autumn than the seed-eaters; so for the
same reason Bats, who do not migrate, go to sleep when
the frost clears the insects from their airy hunting
grounds. Then they flit away to some dark old build-
398 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

ing, cavern, or abandoned mine shaft, far enough from
the air not to freeze, and hanging themselves up by the
hind feet, fall into such a deep sleep that you cannot
detect the faintest breath.”

“What a dreadfully cold way to sleep,” said Dodo,
shivering at the thought. “Hanging up so that the
wind can blow right through them and nothing to keep
their feet warm. Do they always sleep that way in
summer, Uncle Roy?”

“Usually when found in the daytime hidden in out-
buildings or under large leaves they are hanging in that
way, and their young are often found clinging to them
and nursing in this position.”

“Do they build nests?” asked Nat.

‘No, they either suspend themselves wherever they
happen to be, or crawl under the roofs of old buildings,
which they sometimes occupy in great parties. You see
they hang up to go to sleep as naturally as we lie down.”

“Can they walk at all, or do they always fly?”
asked Dodo.

“They can walk along slowly and with a good deal
of trouble by clinging with their hooked thumbs, their
wings being folded and sticking up like the hind legs
of a grasshopper.

“The House Bat (called the Snouty Bat by the Wise
Men, because of its curious nose) is a small light-
brown species common in the South, which makes
attics and roofs its favorite resting-places. It seems
to use its feet more than any other species and may
be heard shuffling about after dark, making the same
noise that you would imagine might come from a
party of mice on crutches.
FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE 399

“This Little Brown Bat that Rod has brought seems
to have been living alone in the root cellar, though I
dare say if we looked we should find others. You saw
them last summer flapping about when we were looking
for Whip-poor-wills.”

“The Bats we saw seemed much bigger than this,”
said Nat. “Aren’t there any larger ones here that we
might have seen?”

“ Yes, we have the Brown Bat, who is the same color
as this little brother, but spreads his wings two inches
further, and the beautiful Red Bat with his shaded
‘golden-red’ coat frosted with white. This Red Bat is
one of the earlest to come out at night, and may some-
times be seen even in clondy days, and it is more com-
mon here than the Little Brown Bat, and is not much
larger. It is a most devoted parent, and mothers have
been known to follow their children, which are usually
twins, to the rooms of houses where they were made
prisoners. Still I am quite sure that our visitor, this
Little Brown Bat, is the species that has flapped in
our very faces this summer, for anything on the wing
seems much larger than when held in the hand.

“There is a very beautiful species called the Hoary
Bat, with frosty gray fur, that I have found in the
far hickory woods, and though it ranges from the Sas-
katchewan country down through the highlands as far
as Mexico, very few people except the Wise Men know
it fora Bat—and why? Because in the first place it
does not begin to fly until quite dark, and then its
flight being both rapid and direct and its wings long
and pointed, they may mistake it for an owl.”

“Can it hoot like an Owl?” said Nat. “The Bats
400 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

I’ve seen never make a scrap of noise; the first thing
you know they seem close to you and before you can
wink they have gone, and daddy says they will never
touch you or claw your hair, as Rod says they do.”

“ You are right; the flight of a Bat is silent. See if
you can tell me why.”

“T can,” said Dodo, whose eyes were sparkling and
dancing as they always did when she thought of an
answer almost before a question was asked. “ You said
a Nighthawk made a noise because the wind blew
through-its wing quills when it dropped, just like when
I blow on my little comb and it whistles, and a Bat has
only skin wings with no feathers to whistle with!”

“The exact reason —a stringless violin makes no
sound. But what shall we do with our Little Brown
Bat? Suppose I take him back to the root cellar and
see if he will hang himself up and go to sleep again.”

“Oh, yes!” said Dodo; “and then by and bye when
he is all aired Rap can see him.”

“Did he hang up again?” the children asked eagerly
when the Doctor returned.

“He flew about a few moments and then disappeared
in a dark corner. When Rod brought a lantern, we
found five others all hanging to the roof, like so many
cocoons in a row. ‘Their eyes were shut and they
showed no signs of life, but I could tell our friend
from the others because he was breathing quickly and
shifted his position when the lantern flashed on him.
So by and bye fa can all go and see how Batville
looks in winter.’ |

“Tt will be nice to go back to camp again,” said Nat,
FROM MOLETOWN TO BATVILLE 401

after a pause, “but what shall we do for stories? The
pictures are almost used up, and we have climbed to
the top branch of the tree, and by and bye it will be
too warm for a campfire.”

- “Bless me!” exclaimed the Doctor, “how sad you
are. One would think you had the knowledge of the
whole world to carry. You have only made a little
fluttering excursion in this wonderful tree, groping
your way like a Bat in a strange garret; now you can
begin at the root again and stop to rest on any branch
that pleases you, reading delightful books on the way.
Then, as soon as Nature opens her door again, the door
of Camp Outdoors, you can use Camp Saturday for a
museum, a place where you may bring your treasures,



cocoons, snake skins, twigs, stones, mosses, — all with-
out let or hindrance.

“Speaking of museums, you have been so good while
you have been ill, and obeyed about not popping your
heads out of windows or doors, that I will tell you a
secret —a great surprise!

“ Dear, don’t choke me! Dodo, you know I told you
that you mustn’t hug any one until you took the stock-
ings off your arms, and turned from a Manatee back to
a little girl.

“The secret is this! Early in March, when the days
grow a little longer, your father and I expect to have a
party, and your mother, Olive, Rap, Nat, and yourself
are to be the guests. We are going to New York to
spend the night at a hotel, and visit the Natural History
Museum, and also to see a few four-footed Americans
that live in the Park. I know that you often visited
both these places when you lived in the city, but I am
2D
402 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

sure you feel a different interest in your four-footed
countrymen since you have climbed their Family Tree.”

“T do already, Uncle Roy,” said Dodo. “I used to
look at the stuffed skins, but they seemed dead, far-
away beasts, like the Lions and Tigers. Now they are
real people, just like Quick and Mr. Wolf.”

“Oh, how jolly it will be taking Rap around!” said
Nat; “and then, if we go to a hotel, we can have striped
ice cream and ride in an elevator! For, do you know,
Uncle Roy, I’ve told Rap about them, but I don’t think
he really believes that elevators are real things.”
XXTX

A FOUR-FOOTED DANCE







EFORE the children had tired of
\ Camp Saturday, or the snow had
quite disappeared from the north
side of the stone fences, it was
March, and that part of the month
when the sun rises and goes.to
bed promptly at six o’clock.
The time of the year when he-
paticas, lodging in the leaf mould
of sheltered banks, are unfurling
their petals, when the brown carpet of the woods is
fragrant and rosy with arbutus flowers, and tufts of
broad green leaves dot the marshes and low meadows.
The children were quite well again, school kindly took
a double holiday to have a smoky furnace cured, and
so all the family at Orchard Farm, except Mammy Bun
and Rod, started on their excursion to New York.
Now in some respects excursions are very much alike:
people see, hear, and eat a great deal more than is good
for them, and are consequently usually rather tired and
peevish for several days afterward. This excursion,
however, was of a different sort; it had only one motive,
and that was to see in two days as many of the four-
footed Americans as the city had to show.
403
404 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

When they were on the cars, Mr. Blake said incident-
ally that he was going to give Olive something as a
reward for having been so patient with Nat and Dodo
and their perpetual questions, but added that he was
quite sure that they could never imagine what the gift
was to be.

“A big box of books,” ventured Rap.

“A new album to paste her pressed flowers in,”
guessed Dodo, “because the old one is crammed full.”

“No, something bigger than those, —a nice pony cart
so that she can drive herself anywhere she likes,” said
Nat, earnestly.

“Wrong,” said Mr. Blake. “I know how fond you
all are of birds and their nests, of beasts and flowers and
bugs, so I thought you would like to make a collection
of such things as you find about the farm, and let the
village children see and enjoy them also. As I know
that Olive may be trusted with it, I am going to buy
her a fine new gun so that she may shoot all these things
for you.”

“ Why, daddy, I’m perfectly astonished!” cried Dodo,
turning red and fairly bristling with indignation. “Do
you want to turn our Olive into a wicked Hunting
Wolf, and just when we’ve coaxed the Wood boys to
stop shooting Meadowlarks and made them promise not
to take but one egg out of each nest if they must go
collecting ?”

“Don’t worry, Dodo,” said Olive, laughing; “for
though I have not the least idea about the present, I can
tell by the twinkle in Uncle Jack’s eyes that it is some
very harmless, nice sort of gun he means.”

“ Shall we have striped ice cream for lunch or dinner?”
A FOUR-FOOTED DANCE 405

asked Dodo, suddenly changing the subject as they left
the cars, Mr. and Mrs. Blas going down town, and the
others up, in Dr. Roy’s charge.

“No ice cream or sweeties at all to-day,” the Doctor
said firmly, “if you wish to go tramping about to see
the animals. First, we will go to the Park and see the
live Grizzly and Polar Bears in their den, and I can
promise you a peep at Coyotes, Timber Wolves, and
Foxes, besides the Puma and the Ocelot. I know that
you will think that they look very unhappy in their
cages, and they are not nearly as comfortable as they
will be when they go to live in the Zoological Park.”

“Oh, there is a donkey!” shouted Nat. “I wonder
if it is the same one that we used to ride when we lived
here in the city? May Rap have a ride now, and then
Dodo and 1?”

“ Why, uncle! I do believe you’ve brought a bag of
dimes and quarters on purpose,” said Dodo, as the Doctor
took the necessary money for three rides from a well-filled
pouch.

“Tam not an old man and more or less wise, without
knowing that plenty of small change is a must-be, if
you wish the wheels of an excursion to move smoothly
and not jolt all the pleasure out of it,” said the Doctor,
pocketing his bag again.

That night when the Orchard Farm family met at a
hotel that overlooked one of the Park entrances, the
first question the children asked was,— ‘Has Olive’s
gun come?”

“ Yes, here it is,” said Mr. Blake, leading the way to
a table that was covered with brown paper parcels and
406 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

a mass of packing material. “Here is a gun, here are
the bullets, and the trigger goes so —snap !”

“It is a beautiful camera!” exclaimed Olive in
delight, sitting down by the table in a state of surprise
and bewilderment. “A real camera, with legs to stand
it on, as well as a handle to carry it by, and it holds
glass plates or rolls of film, whichever you prefer, —
not one of those miserable little trick boxes that was
all that I ever expected to buy for myself.”

“Yes, and see all the trays and bottles and things, so
that you can develop and print your own pictures,”
said the Doctor, growing enthusiastic as he looked,
“with yards of rubber tubing to work the shutter so
that you can set the box on a fence, hide behind a tree,
and catch snap shots of a Robin building his nest ora
Squirrel scampering by. How would you like to go
into partnership with me, daughter? For I think that
we two can make a set of lantern slides that will open
the eyes of the village children to wild things near home.
What! supper time already ?”

Then they all went down in the elevator to the
dining-room, enjoying Rap’s surprise at everything he
saw.

“T don’t like riding down,” he confessed; “it makes
you feel all loose inside, just like when you’ve found a
hornet’s nest in an old tree and go to get down quick
and have to side because there aren’t many branches.”

The next day the children went to the Museum of
Natural History, and as they entered the great doors
and were greeted by Tip, the elephant of circus fame,
Dodo said: “* Where shall we begin? If we begin down-
stairs, Jam sure we shall never get to the top in one
A FOUR-FOOTED DANCE 407

day, and if we begin up top, we shall never get down
again before dark. Who lives on the very top floor,
Uncle Roy?”

“Some of the Wise Men are there!”

“The Wise Men that count teeth and claws and say
whether the little fur beasts that are white in winter
moult all over or only change the color of their hair?”
asked Rap.

“The very same.”

“ Don’t let’s go there, then,” whispered Dodo to Nat,
“because if they are so wise, they would be sure to know
that it is time for another of my teeth to be shed, and
they might want it pulled out now! What is next to
the top?” she asked the Doctor hastily.

“Bones and stones and shells, but after you have been
introduced to the Four-footed Americans in Mammal
Hall, I will take you where you can meet all the home
birds of the farm, the marshes, and the shore, beside
many others that live within fifty miles hereabouts.
For you see these Wise Men, in addition to studying
dry bones, understand the needs of flesh-and-blood
children, and know what will interest them the most in
their winged and four-footed brothers, and so they have
arranged them in a way that they may be easily found.”

“Oh! oh!” exclaimed Dodo as they wandered into
the hall where the Mammals live, “here are Wood-
chucks that look as if they had just come from our
rocky pasture and brought a piece of it with them!”

“See this!” said Rap, hopping toward the bit of
mossy woods that sheltered a Moose family.

“Here are the Two Kings!” cried Nat, running
toward the stretch of prairie where a magnificent Bison
408 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

had stopped in his grazing and was eying a sand-colored
rattlesnake.

“Hush! not so loud!” cautioned Mr. Blake, “or you
will have the Indians downstairs breaking out of their
glass cases and challenging you.”

Luncheon had little attraction for the children that
day, and late afternoon found them still lingering. It
was growing dusky when the Doctor caught Dodo by
the hand, saying, “We must go now or we shall be
shut in.”

“T don’t think I should quite like to stay here in the
dark,” she said, kissing her hand to a Red Fox as she
passed him. “IJ wonder if he is a Dream Fox, and if
he ever comes out of his case?”

“Tf she only knew,” whispered the Fox to the Wild-
cat across the room, “she wouldn’t go home to-night.”

“Knew what?” asked the Wildcat, without moving
an eyelash or a whisker.

“ Who are you that you do not know how, after dark
on March 21, we fourfoots all come out of our cases and
hold our spring dance?”

“T didn’t know it,” replied the Wildcat, “because
last year I did not live in a case; I had a house in a
hollow tree, a mate, and three kittens.”

“Ah! I understand,” said the Fox, asking no more
questions out of respect to the Cat’s feelings. “TI will
explain. There is an endless oval path in the sky that
the sun walks round once every year. Spring lives at
one turn of the path, and Autumn at the other, with
Winter and Summer half-way between. Now on March
21 the sun always reaches the spot where Spring lives
A FOUR-FOOTED DANCE 409

and steps over into her garden, walking through it until
he reaches Summer; so, on the evening of that day,
we fourfoots may leave our prisons and dance all night
in honor of the season.”

“How do you know all this, and who planned the
dance?” questioned the Wildcat.

“The Wise Men have pictures of the sun’s pathway
in their books, and I know it and I planned the dance,
because Iam a Dream Fox!” he whispered. “ When it
is quite dark and every one has gone home but the
night watchman, who will not tell tales that no one
would believe, the dance will begin!”

“How good one of those Rabbits will taste,” said the
Wildcat a few hours later. “It is a very long time
since I ate fresh meat.”

“What are you saying?” snapped the Fox. “Sup-
pose every one of us ate what he wished, what would
the Wise Men say in the morning when they found half
of the cases empty?”

“See, the Possum and the Coon are out already and
drawing up the window shades. Our friend the Moon
is up; that is the signal. Now the Bison, Moose, and
Elk are starting; they always take the lead in the
social affairs of Four-footed Americans.”

The larger animals soon took their places, two by two,
in the entrance hall. The Bison first, with the Moose,
Elk, Caribou, American Deer, and Antelope behind.
The Musk Ox, Bighorn, and Mountain Goat presently
sauntered along together, complaining of the heat.
Meanwhile, the Wolves, Foxes, and various Cats had
an argument about the right of way, the Puma so far
410 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

forgetting himself as to raise a heavy paw and box the
ears of the biggest Timber Wolf, and the Dream Fox
was obliged to interfere to prevent a free fight.

The Rabbits, Squirrels, and little Gnawers kept get-
ting under the feet of the others, until the Porcupine,
as Marshal of his Order, undertook to prod them into
place, using his prickly tail as a weapon. As for the
Rats and Mice, it was impossible to make them walk in
pairs, so they scrambled alone to suit themselves, the
Jumping Mice and Kangaroo Rats alone keeping in
pairs and hopping along hand in hand.

It was fully nine o’clock when all were ready, and a
belated street band on the opposite side of the avenue
began to play ‘“ Dancing in the Barn.”

“ How lucky!” said the Dream Fox. “It is nice to
have music to begin by, but after a little while it
doesn’t matter, for every one dances his own way.

“Now! One, two, three, four,—face to face, skip
—hop! Across the hall, and upstairs to the very top,
and down again.”

The Skunks immediately skipped forward, leading
the way as an advance guard, waving their tails over
their heads, the procession following merrily. Strange
to say, however, all this multitude of prancing hoofs
and paws made no sound.

“Why didn’t they wait for us?” gasped a Walrus,
who had been all this time trying to get out of his case,
to a Seal, who was fanning himself with his flippers.

“ What good would that do?” said the Sea Lion; “we
couldn’t climb up all those stairs and get down again
before daylight. Suppose we slide down this flight to
the basement; perhaps we can find some water and
A FOUR-FOOTED DANCE 411

then we can go in swimming.” Then they all flopped
off; and you would have expected them to leave great
wavy marks in the dust on the floor, but they did not.

At twelve o’clock the procession came downstairs
again and ended by an elaborate breakdown, danced by
the Polar, Barren Ground, Black, and Grizzly Bears;
this was followed by a grand chain, hands all round.
Then the animals were allowed to amuse themselves
until the signal “back to cases” should be given.

“Tt does not seem much like spring,” said the Moose
to the Caribou. “I’m wearing my old horns yet, and
I do not see a single green leaf.”

“Hush!” said the Dream Fox. “The Wise Men say
it is spring.”

Meanwhile, the Foxes and the Civet Cats were roam-
ing around the bird rooms trying to coax the fat Ducks
and Grouse to come for a walk. But the birds seemed
neither to see nor hear them, while the Weasels and
Minks licked their lips, longingly but vainly, as they
gazed at the trays of eggs.

The Bats tried to hang themselves up in dark cor-
ners, but found the ceiling too smooth; and the Wood-
chucks and Beavers who essayed to burrow holes in the
floor were equally unsuccessful. The Possums and
Coons went down to the wood room and tried to reach
some fine tree-trunks in search of likely holes for homes;
while the Mountain Goat and Bighorn practised mountain
climbing by running up and sliding down the bannisters ;
and.the Rats and Mice dulled their teeth in trying to
gnaw holes in the iron doors.

During this time, the Walrus, Sea Lion, and Seal,
who had. flopped easily enough downstairs, were mak-
412 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

ing frantic efforts to haul themselves up again. For,
at the first corner, the Walrus had come face to face
with one of his enemies from the North, an Eskimo
chief, harpoon in hand, ready to charge, while close by
was a kyack, or hunting canoe, covered with the skin
of, perhaps, the Walrus’ own brother.

The night wore on; fog had settled over the city,
hiding the streets and the moou—the fog of an early
spring morning.

“How I should like to go out and breathe that wet
air!” said the Moose, wistfully, flapping his big ears.
“Me, too,” sighed the Beaver, sitting up to listen.
“ What was that?”

“ Toot — toot — t-o-o-t!” shrieked a whistle from the
long-legged railroad on the avenue.

“Hark!” bellowed the Bison, his nostrils quivering,
as he panted with fear. “Hark! do you hear that ery,
the voice of the Iron Horse? It was such a cry that
gave the signal for my exile from the plains. Quick!
Back to your places, Four-footed Americans!”

The fog lifted as the sun rose, and the Song Sparrow
warbled merrily in the Park, while no one would have
known that the beasts in the Museum had ever left the
cases, unless the Dream Fox had whispered it to them.

The morning after their return from the excursion,
Dodo and Nat were out bright and early to discover
what had happened in their absence.

“It is spring even if the wind does blow,” laughed
Dodo, holding her hat on. “Do look at the crocuses on
the lawn.”

“Yes, it’s spring, shor ’nuff!” exclaimed Rod, coming
A FOUR-FOOTED DANCE 413

from the kitchen door. “I’ve got suthin’ you won’t
like to hear, to tell yer, and suthin’ yer will like, to
show yer, if yer come right down to the barns.”

“Mother! Daddy! Uncle!” called Dodo, rushing
into the house a few moments later. “What do you
think Billy Coon has done but run away, and Rod says
he won’t come back, because it’s spring and he’s gone to
the woods to find a mate and hire a house. What else
do you think has happened too? I can’t wait to give
you three guesses. Daisy has a beautiful little calf, and
it’s a lovely mousy color, with great eyes like a Deer.
Please may I name her Clover? Rod says if she lives
to grow up, she will bea fine cow and give as buttery
milk as Daisy. Yes? Then Pll go back right away
and tell her what her name is,” and Dodo skipped down
the walk, singing, “ M— mammals; m— milk!”






——050$ 0o—__

ORDER OF POUCHED MAMMALS
Marsupialia
Famity Dipe.puia

(Number of North American Species, One)

The females of this family carry
their young, when first born, in a
pouch on the lower part of the abdomen. They have four
handlike feet, and a tail which is used like a hand (pre-
hen-sile, the Wise Men call this sort of tail). These animals
live on the ground and in trees. They are both flesh, fruit,
and insect eaters.

Virginia Opossum . . . « « Didelphis virginiana.
Length of body, 17 iactiag : ; tail, 11-12 inches.

ORDER OF SEA COWS
Sirenia

(Number of North American Species, Two)

FamIty oF MANATEES
Manatide
(Number of North American Species, One)
Clumsy animals of southern rivers, feeding upon water
plants.
American Manatee... . . . . Manatus americanus.

Length, 8-10 feet.
415
416 | FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

ORDER OF WHALES, PORPOISES, DOLPHINS
Cetacea

(From Cetus and Zxetos, the Latin and Greek words for
Whale, — Whale meaning roller.) All of this order live on
animal food and are helpless on land. One species, the
Killer Whale, eats other warm-blooded animals.

Famity or True WHALES
Balenide
(Number of North American Species, Seventeen)
Has plates of baleen, the horny fibre known as whale-
bone, growing from its palate. Feeds on Sea mollusks.

Bowhead Whale . Balena mysticetus.

Length, 45-50 feet.

Finback Whale Balenoptera musculus.

Length, 65-70 feet.

Famity or Sperm WHALES
Physeteride
(Number of North American Species, Two)

This family lives on squids and cuttlefish, among other
things. It yields the perfume called ambergris. Sperma-
ceti, a lardy substance used in making candles, is found in
a great cavity in the skull. The fat blubber, which covers
the body under the skin, making it easy for the Whale to
float, yields sperm oil.

Cachelot, or Common Sperm Whale . Physeter macrocephalus.
Length, 55-60 feet.

Famity or DoLprHins
Delphinide
(Number of North American Species, Twenty-cight)

Common Porpoise Phocena phocena.

Length, 44 feet.
LADDER 417

(Porpoise means Sea Hog, a name relating to the clumsy
shape and small piglike eyes of the animal.)

Dolphin. . . ..... . . . Lagenorhynchus acutus.
Length, 10-15 feet.

ORDER OF HOOFED QUADRUPEDS
Ungulata
Ground animals, living chiefly on vegetable diet, a few
sometimes taking animal food.

Division I
(None are natives here)

Toes one, three, or five, ending in hoofs. The Rhinoceros
belongs here; also the Horse and Ass, both having one toe,
turned into a broad hoof. At the present day we have no
native wild horses, those that rove the plains being the chil-
dren of emigrants. ae
Drviston IT

Hoofed toes, even, two or four. Horns, when present, in
pairs. a
Omnivora
Eaters of both animal and vegetable food.

FamMity oF PECCARIES
Dicotylide

(Nomber of North Ameriein Species,

Two

Front foot of four toes, like the domestic pig; three toes
on hind foot.

Collared Peceary . . - - ». +. . . Dicotyles angufatus.

Length, 3 feet.
B
Ruminantia
Cud-chewing vegetable eaters.

2B
418 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Derr Faminy
Cervidee
(Number of North American Species, Nine)
Males (and in one species the females) having antlers that
are shed annually.

American Deer . Dorcelaphus americanus.

Height at shoulder, 3 feet.

Elk or Wapiti. . . . . . . . Cervus canadensis.
Height at shoulder, 5 feet.
Moose (Elk of Europe). . . . . Alces alces.

Height at shoulder, 6 feet.

Caribou or Reindeer . . . . . . Rangifer caribou.
Height at shoulder, 4 feet.

ANTELOPE FAMILY
Antilocapride
(Number of North American Species, One)
Nearly related to the Beef Family, but having pronged
horns, shed annually.

Pronghorn, Prong-horned Antelope. . Antilocapra americana.
Height at shoulder, 3 feet.

Brrr orn Meat Famity
Bovide
(Number of North American Species, Five)

All the members of this family are good for food. Both
males and females have hollow horns without branches,
which are never shed. ‘The horns of the males are gen-
erally very much larger than those of the females.

Bighorn or Mountain Sheep. . . . . Ovis cervina.

Height at shoulder, 34 feet.
Oreamnos montana.

Mountain Goat :
Height at shoulder, 23 feet.
LADDER 419

Musk Ox (really a big sheep) . . . . Ovibos moschatus.
Height at shoulder, 4} feet.

Males and females with horns nearly equal in size.

American Bison, or Buffalo . . . . . Bison bison.
Height at shoulder, 53-6 feet.

THE ORDER OF GNAWERS
Rodentia

The largest and most widely distributed group of Mam-
mals, found in all parts of the world. More than nine
hundred have been named, and new ones are constantly
being found.

These gnawers are mostly small animals, with four strong
cutting teeth, living on or under the surface of the ground
or in trees, a few being expert swimmers. They are chiefly
vegetable eaters, though a few prefer animal food.

FAMILY OF SQUIRRELS
Sciuridze

(More than Sixty North American Species)

Sciurus and Sciuropterus— Tree Squirrels
Meaning those who “ sit in the shadow of the tail.” Good-
sized ears, climbing feet, the front having four and the back
five sharp long claws. Sometimes having pouched cheeks
for carrying food, and, usually, long, plumy tails.
Flying Squirrel . . . . . . Sefuropterus volans.
Length of body, 6} inches; tail, 5 inches.
Red Squirrel. . . . . . . Sc/urus hudsonicus.
Length of body, 73 inches ; tail, 62 inches.
Gray Squirrel. . . . . . . Sciurus carolinensis leucotis.
Length of body, 103 inches ; tail, 103 inches.
Fox Squirrel . . . . . . . Sefurus niger cinereus.
‘Length of body, 13 inches; tail, 184 inches.
420 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Tamias — Ground Squirrels — Chipmunks ;
Smaller and lighter than the true squirrels, with the back
striped.
Chipmunk ....... . . .. . . Tamias striatus.
Length of body, 6 inches ; tail, 44 inches.

Arctomys — Woodchucks
With heavy body, short ears and tail; cheek pouches im-
perfect or none. Gnawing teeth very broad and strong.

Woodchuck. .. . » » . « Arctomys monax.
Length of Banke. 4 inches: tail, 7 inches.

; Cynomys — Prairie Dogs
Intermediate in size between Woodchucks and Spermo-
philes. Short ears; small cheek pouches; five clawed front
feet. Live in burrows in large communities and feed on
prairie grass.
Prairie Dog. . . . » oe ee . Cynomys ludovicianus.
Length of body, 13 inches ; tail, 4 inches.

Spermophilus — Spermophiles
Rather small and slender, tail variable. Ample cheek
pouches ; four front toes. Belong to prairies and dry, open
plains; live in deep burrows and store up food for winter use.
Rock Spermophile . . . . Spermophilus grammurus.
Length of body, 13 inches; tail, 9 inches.

Striped Spermophile. . . . Spermophilus tridecemlineatus.
Length of body, 7 inches; tail, 44 inches.

Braver Faminy
Castoridz
(Nunber of North American Species, One)
Heavy skull; powerful teeth; strong front claws. Tail
flat and tongue-like. The best builder among Mammals.

Beaver. . . . 2... 1 1...) .) «Castor canadensis.
Length of body, 2 feet; tail, 10 inches.
LADDER 421

Famity or Rats anp Mice
Muridz
(Nearly Two Hundred North American Species)

Clumsy, thickly furred body; small ears; short tail; small
feet with furry soles.

White Lemming . . - + . .» Dicrostonyx torquatus.

Length of moa inches ; tail, 1 inch.

Heavy animal, head set close to shoulders. Fore limbs
with four toes and a small thumb; long claws for scratching
and digging; five webbed toes on hind feet; compact scaly
tail; soft under-fur with stiff hairs overlying it. Animal
secretes a musky odor, from which it takes its name.

Muskrat . . . 3 . . Fiber zibethicus.

Length of ody i aches. tail, 11 inches.

Rats and mice— vermin. Large ears; bright eyes; long,
naked tails; no cheek pouches; fur soft. Mostly vegetable
feeders, but some eat insects and occasionally other animal
food.

Field Mouse .. - . . . Microtus pennsylvanicus.

Length of Badge 4} inches ; tail, 12 inches.
Deer or White-footed Mouse . . . Peromyscus leucopus.
Length of body, 84 inches; tail, 3} inches.
Cotton Rat... - + Sigmodon hispidus.
Length of pode: 6 nelicee tail, 4 inches.
‘ Wood or Pack Rat . . . . . . WNeotoma floridana.
Length of body, 8 inches ; tail, 51 inches.

Marsh Rat . . . . . . . . . Oryzomys palustris.
Length of body, 6 inches; tail, 3} inches.

GornerR FAamIty
Geomyide
(Number of North American Species, Twenty to Thirty) ~
Burrowing animals, having large cheek pockets that open
outside ; wide cutting teeth; small eyes and ears ; short legs.
422 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Pouched, or Mole Gopher. . . . - . Geomys bursarius.
Length of body, 84 inches ; tail, 3 inches.
Gray Pocket Gopher . . . . . . - Thomonys talpoides.

Length of body, 7 inches ; tail, 24 inches.

Faminty or Poucurp Rars anp Mice

Heteromyide
(Number of North American Species, Thirty to Forty)
Kangaroo Rat ......-.: - os richardsoni.
Length of body, 54 inches; tail, 6} inches.
Pocket Mouse’ . . Ceeee era ee paradoxus.

Length of ody: 41 inches ; tail, 3} inches.

JumpinG Mousgt FAMILY
Zapodide
(Number of North American Species, Four to Five)
Ground animals, with long springy hind legs and five-toed
feet.

Jumping Mouse. ... . . . . . ZLapus hudsonius.
Length of body, 3 inches ; tail, 5 inches.

Porcupine FAMILY
Erethizontide
(Number of North American Species, Two)

Of chunky build; legs of even length; back covered.
with stout quills, almost hidden by long hairs; short,
stumpy tail. A vegetable eater.

Canada Porcupine. . . . . » . Erethizon dorsatus.
Length of wheal 21 feet ; tail, 84 inches.

Pika FaMity
Ochotonide
(Number of North American Species, Two)
No tail; short ears; legs of equal length.
Pika, Little Chief, or Whistling Hare. . Ochotona princeps.
Length of body, 7} inches; no tail.
LADDER 423

Harr orn Rasarr Famtry
Leporide. Leapers
(Number of North American Species, Twelve or More)

Long ears; long hind legs; short, upturned tail; five
front and four hind toes, with hairy pads. Vegetable
eaters; living in forms or burrows.

Wood Hare (or Gray Rabbit) . . . . . Lepus sylvaticus.

: Length of body, 16 inches ; tail, 24 inches.

Varying Hare Dae ES: Lepus americanus.
Length of body, 20 inches ; tail, 24 inches.

Jack Rabbit iene? Lepus melanotis.

Length of body, 2 feet ; tail, 8 inches.

Marsh Hare . . . . .: : : : . . Lepus palustris.
Length of body, 17 inches ; tail 12 inches.

ORDER OF FLESH EATERS
Carnivora

Having four long, pointed, curved, canine (doglike) teeth,
with small, pointed incisors, or cutting teeth, between; never
less than four toes on each foot. The animals in this order
are chiefly meat eaters, living on the flesh of warm-blooded
animals. Some individuals need a mixed diet, and eat vege-
tables liberally.

If we expect to remember their different habits, we must
divide this order into: I. Land Livers; Il. Water Men (see
page 427).

Division I
TRUE FLESH-EATING LAND MAMMALS

Toes sharply clawed. In some individuals the claws can
be drawn back and concealed, to keep them sharp and free
from wear and tear. (We see this when the house cat
sheathes her claws.) Some of this group are sole walkers,
and some step only on the toe pads.
424 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Cat FAMILY
Felide

(Number of North American Species, Ten)

Our native Cats are flesh eaters, living in solitary pairs,
never hunting in packs. They wear soft, thick fur; have
round heads; ears of medium size, either round or pointed;
large eyes, the pupil (the dark spot in centre) having the
power to contract or expand; rough tongues, covered with
sharp prickles; and very strong claws.

Puma, Panther, or Mountain Lion of West . Felis concolor.

Length of body, 5 feet; tail, 3 feet, (SuPspecies)

Ocelot, or Tiger Cat . . . . . . . . . Felis pardalis.
Length of body, 3 feet ; tail, 15 inches.

Wildcat, or Lynx ...... Lynx rufus.
Length of body, 2% feet ; tail, 7} inches.

Doe Famity
Canide
(Number of North American Species, Seven or Eight)

We have no purely wild dogs in North America. The
Indian and Eskimo Dogs are mongrels. But we have both
Wolves and Foxes, which are the house dog’s cousins.
These have long jaws; limbs of moderate length; short
feet, with five fore and four hind toes; blunt claws, which
they cannot draw in; and tails of various lengths, bushy.
They are more or less sociable animals, hunting in packs.

Wolves
Coyote, or Prairie Wolf . . .. .-. . . Canis Jatrans.
Length of body, 3 feet ; tail, 13 inches.

Timber, or Gray Wolf. . . . . . . . . Canis nubilis.
Length of body, 43 feet ; tail, 14 feet.
LADDER 425

Foxes
Gray Fox .. . . . . « Urocyon cinereo-argenteus.
Length of mody, 24 feet ; tail, 14 inches.

Red, Black, or Silver Fox . . . Vulpes pennsylvanica.
Length of body, 24 feet; tail, 14 feet.

Arctic Fox. . . . - . . « Vulpes lagopus.
Length of pony: 2 feet; tail, 14 inches.

Bear FAMILY
Urside
(Number of North American Species, Six to Eight)

Large, broad mammals, with soft, shaggy fur; round,
hairy ears of medium size; five-toed feet, with naked soles
and fixed claws; short tails. Can walk upright. Prefer a
mixed diet.

Black or Brown Bear . .. . . . Ursus americanus.
Height at shoulder, 2 feet 10 inches.

Grizzly Bear... . . . . Ursus horribilis.
Height at i Avonlder 4 feet.

Polar Bear . . . . . .. . Thalarctos maritimus.
Height at Saeuidee 4 feet.

Raccoon Faminy
Procyonide
(Number of North American Species, Three)

Little cousins of the Bear, resembling both the Bear and
Cat. Broad head, pointed muzzle; stands on the sole of
the foot; curved, pointed claws; long tail, covered with
ringed fur. Fur on body thick and soft.

Raccoon. . . . . » Procyon fotor.

Tength of ody 24 fect’ tail, 11 inches.

Cacomistle, or Civet Cat. . . . . . . Bassaricus flavus.
Length of body, 14 feet ; tail, 14 feet,
426 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

Famity or Lirrte Fur Bearers
Mustelide
(Number of North American Species, Twenty to Thirty)

A large family of small and medium sized fur bearers,
of great commercial value. Grouped according to their teeth
and claws.

American Otter... . . . . . Lutra canadensis.

Length of boar 24 feet ; tail, 14 feet.

Broad, flat head; close, short fur; long tail; round feet,
with webbed toes and small, blunt claws. Aquatic and fish-
eating.

Common Skunk ... . . . . « Mephitis mephitica.
Length of body, LW feet ; tail, 18 inches.
Little Striped Skunk . ... . . . Spilogale putorius.

Length of body, 14 feet ; tail, 74 inches.

Small head; small, round ears; long, plumy tail; body
long, covered with black and white fur of good quality.
Burrowing animals, living on mixed food. They secrete an
offensive odor, which they use as a weapon of defence.

American Sable, or Pine Marten . . . Mustela americana.

Length of body, 14 feet ; tail, 10 inches.

bisher ee + + Mustela pennanti.
Tenet of Oy, 9 feet tail, 14 inches.

Living among the trees of rocky woods. Savage animals
for their size; agile climbers; great destroyers of small
gnawers. Tur soft and beautiful.

Weasel, or Ermine. . . . . . . Putorius noveboracensis.

Length of body, 11 inches ; tail, 7 inches.

Mike es . . . . Putorius vison.
Tenge of tbody, 1} feet ; tail, 9 inches.
LADDER 427

Small animals, with long bodies and a snake-like motion
in moving; blood-thirsty, cunning, great destroyers of poul-
try and eggs. The northern Weasels are brown in summer,
but turn white in winter, and are called Ermines. The
Mink remains brown all the year.

Wolverine . Gulo luscus.

Length of body, 8 feet ; tail, 14 inches.
Stout body, resembling a small Bear; large feet, with
curved, sharp claws; soles between pads, covered with stout
hair; small eyes; thick, bushy tail; fur rather long and
coarse. A very savage beast.
Bad Gebers ac ee een em ee Taxidea americana.
Length of body, 21 inches to 2 feet ; tail, 7 inches.

Wide head; stout, flat body; short tail.

Diyiston II
FLESH EATERS, LIVING BOTH ON LAND AND IN THE WATER
SEALs AND WALRUSES
Pinnipedia. (Having pinnate or fin-like feet. )

These mammals have their limbs more or less hidden in
the skin of the body, in the shape of five-fingered flippers
arranged for moving through the water. They have round
heads, soft, beautiful eyes, clumsy bodies, and short tails.
All of this group spend most of their time in the water,
living on marine food, and only coming on land for a few
months in summer to bring forth their young.

Sea Lion FAmILy
Otariide
(Number of North American Species, Four)
Small ears, round head, and large eyes; long neck, and
whiskers like seaweed. They walk clumsily on all fours,
428 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

the limbs looking lke feet joined to the body without legs.
They are covered all over with stiff hair, and in some species
there is a soft under-fur, which is the familiar “sealskin”
of commerce. This is wrongly named, as it is the pelt of the
Sea Bear, and not of a true Seal. Male much larger than

the female.
Sea Bear, Fur Seal. . . .. +. . Callotaria ursina.
Length of male, 74 feet ; female, 44 feet.
Sea Lion . oie Gt Zalophus californicus.
Length of male, 15 feet ; female, 8-9 feet.

Wanrus Faminy
Odobenide

(Number of North American Species, Two)

Walrus is a word adapted from the Russian, meaning
Whale Horse. Animals of Arctic seas, measuring 10-13 feet
from nose to rump. Bulky and thick, heaviest about shoul-
ders, and sloping toward the rump. Thick, wrinkled skin
covered with rough, yellowish hair which wears almost en-
tively off when the animal is old. They have a pair of long
tusks which aid in fighting, climbing, and digging their shell-
fish food. The Walrus is of commercial value on account
of its oil, hide, and tusks.

Atlantic Walrus. . . . . . . . « Odobenus rosmarus.

Length, 12 feet 3 inches.

Pacific Walrus Apes Odobenus obesus.

Length, 12-14 feet.

Faminy or Trur Sears
Phocidz
(Number of North American Species, Nine)

The true Seal is the most water-loving of the group. Its
hind flippers drag uselessly when on land, where it moves
LADDER 429

by jerking the body along with its fore feet. It is hairy,
having no under-fur.

Harbor Seal. . . . . «ee ee) Phoca vitulina.
Length, 4 feet.

ORDER OF INSECT EATERS
Insectivora

Chiefly small burrowing animals, having glands, where
their fore legs join the body, that secrete an offensive odor
which protects them from the attacks of flesh eaters. It is
not entirely proven that this order lives wholly on insect
food.

Tur Surew Famity
Soricide
(Number of North American Species, Twenty)

Mouse-like heads; bodies covered with hair. Shrews live
in shallow burrows, and their young are blind and naked at
birth.

Short-tailed Shrew . . . . . . Blarina brevicauda.
Length of body, 33 arenes tail, 1 inch.
Least Shrew. . . . . . . Sorex personatus.

Length of Body, 24 inches: tail, 14 inches.

Moun Famrny
Talpide
(Number of North American Species, Eight)

Common Mole. . . . . . Scalops aquaticus.
Length of pede, 4} freneey tail, 1 inch.

Having a simple pointed nose; front feet broad and
shovel-like; back feet webbed; short, naked tail.
Star- mosed Mole ... . . . . Condylura cristata.
Length of body, 33 meee tail, 8 inches.
End of snout surrounded by thread-like appendages,
arranged in the shape of a star. Tail long and slightly
430 FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS

hairy. Moles live in burrows which are reached by long
tunnels.

THE ORDER WING-HANDED MAMMALS
Chiroptera
(Number of North American Species, Eighteen)

Fore limbs, or arms, much enlarged and forming mem-
branous wings; hind limbs weak. Faces and ears of many
different shapes are found in this order, which contains both
insect and fruit eaters.

Tue Twintient Bar Faminy
Vespertilionide

Hoary Bat. ........ . . . Lasiurus cinereus.
Length of body, 5 inches; spread of wings, 14 inches.

Rede Batt racer chs: . . . . . Lasiurus borealis.
Length of body, 4 inenes spread of wings, 12 inches.

Little Brown Bat .... . . . . . Myiotis subulatus.
Length of body, 34 inches; spread of wings, 10 inches.

Mouse or Hovusz Bat Faminy
Emballonuride
(Number of North American Species, Three)

House Bat .... . . . . WNyctinomus brasilensis.
Length of body, 83 inches: spread of wings, 114 inches.

ORDER OF PRIMATES
Man Famity
Hominide
4.ue North American Indian . . Homo sapiens americanus.
Height, 5 feet 10 inches.
This is the Indian race of the United States, and does not
include the Eskimo.
INDEX OF ENGLISH NAMES

The Latin names will be found under head of ‘‘ Ladder for Climbing the Family Tree
of North American Mammals.”

PAGES
Antelope............. 256, 267, 300
BAC PCLaw cui sss riecensn es 256, 268
BaitseElo abyanmisrlerrntspevactcter: 399
Bat pHOUSe seis. essai cents 398

Bat, Little Brown 388, 395, 899, 400

spits Ia ilen oatemannanasedctdas 399
Bear, Black or Brown..... 376, 386
Beare Guigzlyery sires is 239, 253
BEAL WOLDS wacieiiisrinier 280-282,
BCA VEL nse tans tents 93, 365-375
IBI SHON Gers seats tsinks 239-243, 300
BISON sneer Geer 116-136
Buffalo. See Bison.
Cachelot. See Sperm Whale.
Cacomistle. See Civet Cat.
Caribou 4.06: 207, 275-277, 300
Chipmunk............. 57, 360, 361
Civieti@athir ences: 224-226
Oi\ Wisk ovebonocaosunuune 256, 267
Deer, American .......... 300, 306
Dolphin} Hk areca 237, 277, 300-304
Ermine. See Weasel.
Shenae ncn nok ee 187
HO xAPATC LICH rs iaienie tae 202-204.
OX GVaverccinnpice yest 201, 202
Fox, Red, Black, or Silver.....
ears 153, 158, 170, 201, 204, 206



PAGES
Gopher, Gray Pocket.......... 845
Gopher, Pouched or Mole...... 344
Hare, Marsh.............. 145-147
Hare, Varying ............ 150-152
LATE ySWiO Odin: sansa sets 143-145
Hare, Whistling .......... 158, 154
Lemming, White.............. 336
iby fibe lot heaseapacwenansuououes 228
Iyxs Canad anecirmnwia torent 229
Manatee, American....... 821-323
Marten, Pine.............. 186, 187
WEN Soo neanoauSasbeosaddud 184, 185
Mole, Common............ 390-393
Mole, Star-nosed.......... 391-393
Moose ........5.. 277, 300, 309, 319
Mountain Goat ........... 239, 300
Mountain Lion. See Puma.
Mountain Sheep...... 239, 243, 300

Mouse, Deer or White-footed 91, 338

Mouse, Meadow............... 331
Mouse, Pocket............ 346, 347
Mouse, Jumping .......... 846-348
Muslvi@x seers ccace 278, 279, 300
MS keraibessieen cre 48, 49, 336-238
Oceloteses nian dae nee 228
Opossum........-.... 821, 376, 386
Otter nara creepers 177-180
Panther. See Puma.

Peccary, Collared........... 89, 90

431
PAGES
ikig enter aaieteisenies 153, 154
Porpoise, Common........ 328, 329
Poreupine, Canada... 161, 163, 194
Prairie Dog.............-- 256, 267
HUN Guest natatrete arse ae 234, 237
RADDIESES ea 140, 143
RabbiteGrayees nce coce cee 148
Rabbitedack scien s. ote 147, 150
RACCOOD Saki sine 190, 222
Rat uCoulon serra uric ae 339
Rat ela nO aro src accra. 345, 346
RatseMarshisss wine eran etc 340
Rat ebac Kener emesis oan 340, 341
Rats Woods. .cse Sable, American. See Pine Marten.
Sear Dearenaccnsmccs coterie 286
SeashlONes sae eee ees ay 293
Sealthurisigcccacatcnet ners 286
Seal Harbors: sscnc.ascseeon 294
Shrews Leaste..cmscn cores ce 395
Shrew, Short-tailed ........... 393



INDEX OF ENGLISH NAMES



PAGES
Skunk, Common ....... 176, 180, 181
Skunk, Little Striped ......... 180
Spermophile, Rock or Line-
tailedechennc tame 363, 364
Spermophile, Striped.......... 363
Squirrelsscncnt sve nntace cheer 350
Squirrel, Flying ....... 57, 352-355
Squirrel, Fox ...........+.-00- 359
Squirrel, Gray...........-. 56, 357
Squirrel, Red....... 46, 57, 855-357
Walrus, Atlantic.............. 283
Walrus, Pacific. 35.0... 283-286
Wapiti. See Elk.
Wieaselininicwacs ene 182, 183
Whale, Bowhead.......... 324-326
Whale, Finback........... 324-327
Whale, Sperm...........eeeeee 324
Wildcat ia Sg c ee 227, 230-235
Wolf, Gray or Timber..... 212-222
Wolf, Prairie. See Coyote.
PWIOLVETINGhit sin eter ter 188, 189
Woodchuck.........eeeeeee 44, 159
“AN IDEAL BOOK ON NATURE STUDY."

CITIZEN BIRD.

Scenes from Bird Life in Plain English for Beginners. By
MaBeL OsGoop WriGHT and ELLioTr CovEs. With One
Hundred and Eleven Illustrations by Louis Agassiz Fuertes.
12mo, Cloth, $1.50, sez.

This first issue of The Heart of Nature Series—- C2tizen Bird —is
in every way a remarkable book. It is the story of the Bird-People
told for the House-People, especially the yozg House-People, being
dedicated “To All Boys and Girls who Love Birds and Wish to Pro-
tect Them.”

It is not a mere sympathetic plea for protection. It shows how Citi-
zen Bird “works fer his own living as well as ours, pays his rent and
taxes, and gives free concerts daily”; is scientifically accurate in de-
scription of anatomy, dress, and habits; and is illustrated by over one
hundred engravings in half tone, together with descriptive diagrams,
and has a valuable index of some one hundred and fifty-four American
birds.

It is a question when one becomes too old to enjoy such a delight-
ful and entertaining book.

TOMMY-ANNE

AND
THE THREE HEARTS.

By MABEL OsGoop WriGuHT. With many Illustrations by Albert
D. Blashfield. 12mo, Cloth, Colored Edges, $1.50.

“This book is calculated to interest children in nature, and grown folks,
too, will find themselves catching the author's enthusiasm. As for Tommy-
Anne herself, she is bound to make friends wherever she is known. The
more of such books as these, the better for the children, One “Tommy-
Anne is worth a whole shelf of the average juvenile literature.” —Cyitic.

“Her book is altogether out of the commonplace. It will be immensely
entertaining to all children who have a touch of imagination, and it is
instructive and attractive to older readers as well.’ — Outlook.

“The work is probably the most charming nature-book for children.
published this year.” — Déad.

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY,

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.
BIRDCRAFT.

A FIELD-“BOOK OF TWO HUND'RED SONG, GAME,
AND WATER BIRDS.

By MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT,
Author of “The Friendship of Nature,’ “Tommy-Anne,” “Citizen Bird,” etc.

With Eighty full-page plates by Louis AGAssiz FUERTEs.
[For Specimen Plate see other side.]

PRESS COMMENTS.

“This is a charming volume, upon a pleasant theme. The author is not a hard-
hearted scientist who goes forth with bag and gun to take life and rob nests, but a
patient and intelligent observer, who loves the children of the air, and joins their
fraternity. Such a book inspires study and observations, and encourages effort to
acquire knowledge of the work of God. The book is a wise teacher as well as an
inspiring guide, and contains beautiful, well-arranged illustrations.”

— New Vork Observer.

“The author has struck the golden mean in her treatment of the different birds,
saying neither too much nor too little, but mostly furnishing information at first
hand, or from approved authorities. The book will be very welcome to a large
number who have felt the want of a work of this kind. It will increase their enjoy-

ment of outward nature, and greatly add to the pleasure of a summer vacation.”
— Boston Herald.

“This is the third edition of Birdcraft, and its excellences have already won the
commendation of all naturalists.... Such fineness of truth, such accuracy of draw-
ing, could only be the work of genius—not genius which is simply the capacity for
hard work, but genius which is innate, heaven-commissioned, ‘‘ inbreathed by the life
breather,” by the maker and teacher of man and nature alike.” — /ter-Ocean.

“Of books on birds there are many, all more or less valuable, but Birdcraft, by
Mabel O. Wright, has peculiar merits that will endear it to amateur ornithologists. . . .
A large number of excellent illustrations throw light on the text and help to make a
book that will arouse the delight and win the gratitude of every lover of birds.”

— Boston Saturday Evening Gazette.

“The book is attractive, interesting, and helpful, and should be in the library of
every lover of birds.” — Scéexce.

Small Quarto. Cloth. $2.50.

TE WACMICLUANG COMPANY.

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.
WILD NEIGHBORS.

Out-Door Studies in the United States.

By ERNEST INGERSOLL,
Author of “Country Cousins,” “ friends Worth Knowing,” ete., ete.

Crown Octavo. Cloth. Price, $1.50.

With zo Full-page Illustrations, and other small cuts.

Written by the author of a number of successful books, such as ‘‘ Birds’ Nesting,”
** Knocking "Round the Rockies,” ‘The Crest of the Continent,” etc., etc.;—a
writer who has the gift of so writing that the reader seems to be seeing with him the
places describe i, and, in the case of these new papers, feels as if he himself had been
watching the shy creatures of whose habits so fascinating an account is given. He
begins with the little gray squirrel; but writes not only of the panther, the myste-
rious, despised coyote, badgers and other burrowers, of elephants and other animals;
but also of ‘‘ the service of tails’”’; of animal training and intelligence, and of perhaps
half-a-dozen more topics, closing with ‘* A Little Brother of the Bear,” which any boy
will be rejoiced to read, with only one.regret — that it is the last.

LIFE HISTORIES OF AMERICAN
INSECTS.

By CLARENCE MOORES WEED, D.Sc.,

Professor of Zoology and Entomology, New Hampshire College of
Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts.

Wlustrated. Cloth. Price, $1.50.

With 21 Full-page Illustrations and smaller cuts in the text.
Decorated cover.

A series of pages in which an enthusiastic student of Entomological science de-
scribes, often in the words of, always with the intent interest air of, the original
‘observer, — changes such as may often be seen in an insect’s form, and which mark
the progress of its life. He shows how very wide a field of interesting facts is in
reach of any one who has the patience to collect these little creatures. ‘The work is
not a text-book, but can be used as supplementary reading. ‘Teachers who may care
to complete their school or private libraries by an exhaustive treatment of Ento-
mology will find the most complete and up-to-date work of the kind in Dr. Packard’s
elaborate text-book, to be issued shortly. ‘This volume will serve as a somewhat
popular introduction to the subject.

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY,

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.
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7c4d7b942f5ac49d1f2e9607bf267aa2
e933704bc53f9cf607bec2af0bdce7fd732e1119
'2011-12-29T18:07:07-05:00'
describe
'5412' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZE' 'sip-files00006.QC.jpg'
98d8e4e86fae889c5f64fa020f3b14ba
4239096ac5d2d653ae77fbd201521d03843f8e70
'2011-12-29T18:16:13-05:00'
describe
'3000048' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZF' 'sip-files00006.tif'
85ca16b096bd7e6761ad9bb4a1bf9756
d1c64c3006be911141ec330a8b5f3b9a10f32ef8
'2011-12-29T18:18:29-05:00'
describe
'1442' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZG' 'sip-files00006thm.jpg'
2cb19119ed717ac5ad4067e2f72e667b
7a5fd35ccbbb5ecd44bb3115655be06fd2aa7366
'2011-12-29T17:58:52-05:00'
describe
'372723' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZH' 'sip-files00008.jp2'
149eb307eb9f362cb6e8392196053a1b
59a675884e747b3c9a3d6996b5d2fa9235412a58
'2011-12-29T18:14:35-05:00'
describe
'164584' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZI' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
ee660dbb5d14600eea78e2a450e3e07d
ef107f230f98d99430f973cd1d97ca2457d79bb8
'2011-12-29T18:00:23-05:00'
describe
'1788' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZJ' 'sip-files00008.pro'
649eeb94d5b8ae332f010fb52373489d
923f3a85bdb64c391c540a4dc256f9a3996579c2
'2011-12-29T18:25:06-05:00'
describe
'37949' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZK' 'sip-files00008.QC.jpg'
6bb15fe6dc8b14c1a91f2cb6157b6532
c6eab910f5c2b8c6a83f532a1c7045918c32c15f
'2011-12-29T18:24:51-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZL' 'sip-files00008.tif'
a87514f460872a21f99811a8973517b1
ebe53c04ea97324c8a004f226ccec98f3f37107b
'2011-12-29T17:56:37-05:00'
describe
'125' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZM' 'sip-files00008.txt'
92e2fcd6061f2822f0b6ceaf57b938d7
c6ea78227a83aa37f07905902189d193784d2add
'2011-12-29T18:18:35-05:00'
describe
'9839' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZN' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
931cdbc0c7aadf2de2f5e5f47bc7e2e4
618a3e078286896dbfe45b3c5240860b22dfe704
'2011-12-29T18:14:19-05:00'
describe
'372711' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZO' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
3a5ce6a75ad3bbb7a9fac3a280486467
d016772b7eaf461e681d9d34652a5ada2456066f
'2011-12-29T18:01:50-05:00'
describe
'47702' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZP' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
7c2aab06d551e53adf57df3143f8f3e0
19a3cf519704bfac6460f3ee7083efdf73bd6a16
'2011-12-29T18:24:46-05:00'
describe
'5664' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZQ' 'sip-files00011.pro'
cb5ba00ec0b4e750bd7dadfedbc473eb
93ec8ebd495b7455c862dec05c9b70e3c659b46b
'2011-12-29T18:04:57-05:00'
describe
'12593' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZR' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
92146a6769e1edb52109d09bd202bbe9
e69a66ff2387f34f6d065ddee6696762010ca729
'2011-12-29T18:06:27-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZS' 'sip-files00011.tif'
5a30907535c04e9730cf46b79100a7c7
cc0dc496b7cb3588e16688fb19d4489436141ec2
'2011-12-29T17:57:10-05:00'
describe
'366' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZT' 'sip-files00011.txt'
6122c6a07367003ada9b8700b7d49631
82eb7455ae8653e389c357909be1a19f1d516b1b
'2011-12-29T18:01:08-05:00'
describe
'3917' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZU' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
9808784f0c24c80af9897213906a08cc
bf4c37021d435eca70f5e21d8e4f40d555272cd2
'2011-12-29T18:12:35-05:00'
describe
'372601' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZV' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
d0582f34fe99ba0278e02e66d16df06e
e8aded8a1a5e6b3d0384f60385e46254321517e9
'2011-12-29T18:09:08-05:00'
describe
'27248' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZW' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
66eb9d7ca482e63d5ed0103ad73e2ed3
20e34dc6db65cb68661179efec31a4537624b9d5
'2011-12-29T18:16:24-05:00'
describe
'3245' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZX' 'sip-files00012.pro'
631b95c61b4e7885b05857835e77e022
9af5360fe118bacc39628de410364f46557c748c
'2011-12-29T18:01:19-05:00'
describe
'5701' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZY' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
d59bc62b9fdc7acd052b4b27491100bb
cb8a4f7861353992dc0c9abc100df7d396191eb4
'2011-12-29T18:12:59-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAIZZ' 'sip-files00012.tif'
7b1caa404a6b47ec47043ef54c1250da
50763db8a501e91684986690f4aada73c983959f
'2011-12-29T17:59:38-05:00'
describe
'280' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAA' 'sip-files00012.txt'
ab177eb11ebae32746e6ddcacb4b478a
d43fd22a2c8ec7dd42c2ab6074c8c742bd784a24
'2011-12-29T17:57:00-05:00'
describe
'1541' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAB' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
8695eb1d7effe77d08c4abd4716b7c47
7e5dfba30c205aea352b26d53488eef494bfb441
'2011-12-29T17:55:50-05:00'
describe
'372532' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAC' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
dd7c27e899380fede9026be951d3e97c
bb837082620937e57696a2ae9c21062f5d9cc274
'2011-12-29T18:01:05-05:00'
describe
'37001' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAD' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
1473ff3d4fcf9862d523881fada8c005
de96d40d13d5fc557e6d5c1f9f0e83cc9f93bf39
'2011-12-29T18:24:31-05:00'
describe
'6404' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAE' 'sip-files00013.pro'
521841ed5443808357088bfa73c91deb
fc26c37063a6498cf10fd9215d6382904783305a
'2011-12-29T18:22:07-05:00'
describe
'8843' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAF' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
a6f43a16daa501f2888ecf7c10b7c73b
8aaf8e1cf7e5018140aed150ccc36dbc3d7261d8
'2011-12-29T17:58:55-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAG' 'sip-files00013.tif'
b5db774f656b3b749cff0cf138fbf46c
219042fe759b7070124a99e718a9102a01874de3
'2011-12-29T18:00:25-05:00'
describe
'396' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAH' 'sip-files00013.txt'
05270c0df235e193ed1546b1b73ed674
5a45cd6390b77230c91b88bd1b34b57c56dadb7e
'2011-12-29T18:01:17-05:00'
describe
'2505' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAI' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
76fa7ec85a521a4624bb8e31770b7f35
355eccd16ca1f601d830b50455375fc40a0f4f64
'2011-12-29T18:04:56-05:00'
describe
'372710' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAJ' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
938ec43944f5a11f8fc0f70679bfe79f
1a47b8f5c7b9fea2b907bf7e2b8808497efb94b8
'2011-12-29T18:22:59-05:00'
describe
'80410' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAK' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
fbe8046bbf2b10f57515b7bfd963ec9e
4519ae7d5c038a5239418a8da5fe0c719a925628
describe
'28954' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAL' 'sip-files00015.pro'
c0536b05f2a8c7e385ad14b439aa8e3c
3213615c0af341b942fdef7a7dbd744174deafc4
'2011-12-29T18:05:59-05:00'
describe
'22483' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAM' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
5b67f0453b70704dce17586d444d6aaf
5f58c8684e87ddd55c5fff6eb18b77cff467a430
'2011-12-29T18:00:12-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAN' 'sip-files00015.tif'
9aad40579c513155c90e7507e8b7b89d
49fa5f3d7f88e832cb60d84da97bb49d61404ec7
'2011-12-29T17:56:23-05:00'
describe
'1398' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAO' 'sip-files00015.txt'
338eaafe6277c7056d5cf68f6277d211
b460dfdab5c9cc6e2ddcaa7475aaf9d935220d47
'2011-12-29T17:57:20-05:00'
describe
'5510' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAP' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
a7ee8059551913f2ed9349c4fa9d7af7
daedad8acae135aca66478aa55de262b072e3d5e
'2011-12-29T18:22:37-05:00'
describe
'373115' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAQ' 'sip-files00016.jp2'
704db27672f6cb40f020f123df2d9337
3569a47432d7734d7483726c25d356b546aa1ee5
'2011-12-29T18:05:57-05:00'
describe
'22588' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAR' 'sip-files00016.jpg'
480d699c96b8e2cdf8e414bdc695371d
77ff03052001aa5e43554aa1c5ff75e3988be35f
'2011-12-29T18:25:38-05:00'
describe
'3927' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAS' 'sip-files00016.QC.jpg'
7e1d4b938495f6b06e470f553858b442
ab752956ab3d9d01329abebfa4fc6e2680890145
'2011-12-29T17:58:57-05:00'
describe
'3002268' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAT' 'sip-files00016.tif'
c07135285796e0552afe019fb22673e7
76329f301f8a1b9fd72321732e9ce9271863a3e2
'2011-12-29T18:00:40-05:00'
describe
'1052' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAU' 'sip-files00016thm.jpg'
1528bb5905613da9261f4e094d05949d
4b882be159d13d2a961ca0f32b9296ad897f0f2f
'2011-12-29T18:00:04-05:00'
describe
'372726' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAV' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
e3d8dbb7164b84eb1d27a7a3a2e0e402
831e7a221e7a9a6d812865c861bc3c23f0e97121
'2011-12-29T18:23:08-05:00'
describe
'48611' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAW' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
8fcc5bc9269fb207517ebf791cf3c55b
7e66a3c9eee0d945fb7995ba640e250d8d4b886e
'2011-12-29T18:04:14-05:00'
describe
'15521' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAX' 'sip-files00017.pro'
151649cb2294cfda340e27c6195dfa8c
db688757741c60a2ad96157902576a9b40d29017
'2011-12-29T18:05:29-05:00'
describe
'14716' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAY' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
870d7cff0fea183a8fd442b512aef449
aa3f4ad682c126a360b6ce8241a1882f8826516b
'2011-12-29T18:10:55-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJAZ' 'sip-files00017.tif'
af6669450f6a4f604f9d4feb6ccde787
77bc3ace194b3183d6152f8bea02e0ffaf94bc6f
'2011-12-29T18:27:14-05:00'
describe
'996' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBA' 'sip-files00017.txt'
e28e45bc62d8af473a6da5f1e6126814
0f0a628772c0272924ff18fd60b8005ff0e86124
'2011-12-29T18:11:43-05:00'
describe
'4347' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBB' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
e51b2daf7b6c5840db098702f3cf8ac4
39d4738cb0c5fe986ee4136c05937ace6c3f8f73
'2011-12-29T18:09:10-05:00'
describe
'372634' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBC' 'sip-files00018.jp2'
732e85f9d2ba002d4cd277e7de0b0b08
a50a5983364ea17df3c16c0def3a46d25d199527
'2011-12-29T18:04:25-05:00'
describe
'66313' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBD' 'sip-files00018.jpg'
32ee5e6be3d0d01c6dde3c5f5984b0ae
7154fdb120b46f88d6d27358748d17db9f7f235e
'2011-12-29T18:11:28-05:00'
describe
'24924' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBE' 'sip-files00018.pro'
0a17e09a57116a028b2a9703cbb4801e
1ece53d340cbb46ff0faef4f64d67b0e802a8658
'2011-12-29T17:56:33-05:00'
describe
'19981' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBF' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
b5d69510e729100cb85a7ff92785a6d1
3f27cf8e01fa1507698fc84febc236e119161203
'2011-12-29T18:16:14-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBG' 'sip-files00018.tif'
9525264aae47839f5f4afa841ad3d0a4
0a6df3952cc55f80af44d1466322ccce4a57cfdf
'2011-12-29T18:27:42-05:00'
describe
'1372' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBH' 'sip-files00018.txt'
cf83f0a139f52a94bdec85ea8879ea2e
96b0dd544f6939230cd6cc11cf19b73d9f54fd44
'2011-12-29T18:06:22-05:00'
describe
'5501' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBI' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
2b6ca3bf9c96f3177f96b048c924437b
629c4580255304af7a47ac84c7e932a5baa7acee
'2011-12-29T18:02:28-05:00'
describe
'373180' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBJ' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
14cd9dd974ce0e66a9a355af947f109f
6f24125c396b4743071df67ed6647625f0540425
'2011-12-29T17:59:47-05:00'
describe
'70491' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBK' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
20e2f18ad066c04d9f0883870b962649
549f235d90ce538b050501eed3a39b7d8b3f6a2a
'2011-12-29T17:57:54-05:00'
describe
'24723' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBL' 'sip-files00019.pro'
0e1138fffc17196546b54b76ee27c28f
58e856a9ebfad64d2dbe6e293b1a2cf3c9583ac8
describe
'20823' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBM' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
21864f987f277b217e3783b83926f814
9c4de06450db9817fa3026d43933083b513710b2
'2011-12-29T18:00:26-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBN' 'sip-files00019.tif'
0ce6d837f6aa71495d94a66c964f70e4
14ea4d0c111e1a623b33f1d34b0ab7038e1c5c21
'2011-12-29T18:17:40-05:00'
describe
'1330' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBO' 'sip-files00019.txt'
6fb8b7628e652ed4229c27bfa6913b91
ce16270fd5701084c67dc89c5f5957003150b5dc
'2011-12-29T18:20:53-05:00'
describe
'5967' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBP' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
0c0dbe48788c2896aaa007bed073afe4
f9536ad938063d232256ceb16dc00f22da99c12d
'2011-12-29T18:08:40-05:00'
describe
'372585' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBQ' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
250d0b5ef31e1826e86daf1cf0a5ee5b
1a1c71fa2b81b7cc8eecd32a80d75e037a64e1cf
'2011-12-29T18:06:18-05:00'
describe
'59515' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBR' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
6784dadf2947d8c0a20b444930705269
6645e17eb35b5db5b0dcb9a1f5821bc40ed91496
'2011-12-29T18:19:04-05:00'
describe
'18469' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBS' 'sip-files00020.pro'
0816b467c96f37c0f5bd4d7cdcd9b1fb
29dbfc713b83a0e599b819fd379cdbf0fc638e19
'2011-12-29T18:03:56-05:00'
describe
'17348' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBT' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
f66c7cbf8687283d01f6a5a63f5bc40c
3fdb1c8425f5fa86449dbd415e5a6f137ab0c360
'2011-12-29T18:08:00-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBU' 'sip-files00020.tif'
7e2054c76b7dace98e7b757eee95dc72
655ae700cd07cdb8d7af00dbf6e2c4d3b38eed7e
'2011-12-29T18:18:40-05:00'
describe
'1017' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBV' 'sip-files00020.txt'
acb8a384c9c5464c4070ead4ab07e529
38b03e4b57b58ae48e5176bbccf6f95d6fc36128
'2011-12-29T17:59:27-05:00'
describe
'4797' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBW' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
11e79bb79254cb4cb1842f377382278b
d9b605d2db1f99f00dd58b90a80d7373941a3fa3
describe
'373160' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBX' 'sip-files00021.jp2'
bc1c17b301cae54c646813f4d94bb1f6
e1bfa137b30de5f7f716f80c0fabd74fd39d7664
'2011-12-29T17:57:19-05:00'
describe
'72125' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBY' 'sip-files00021.jpg'
570ced5ed646c5d52f079aef910a76e8
fb5dad52109fc13de7671e5a1545d218578793a4
'2011-12-29T18:26:39-05:00'
describe
'33228' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJBZ' 'sip-files00021.pro'
d17c43f96f6e9f9e651da02178a2bc7a
65516a22050ff6656ff9f73320af4a36e8d9cd86
'2011-12-29T18:04:19-05:00'
describe
'22028' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCA' 'sip-files00021.QC.jpg'
e3d9dfa57e30078604a4130acd4d1bd0
efc343a2cd4e861e50ffce0ca488ed82fb0d73e8
'2011-12-29T18:19:08-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCB' 'sip-files00021.tif'
1dd8789f0697b5112085ec4fe10e7f06
d221b5f7cc0ce839284f59026c329add32583846
'2011-12-29T18:19:18-05:00'
describe
'1680' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCC' 'sip-files00021.txt'
53c2782ba5cff26ae8f46ad6387a78af
e28770676f0279357c91ccafc3e569aacc0b98d2
'2011-12-29T18:26:17-05:00'
describe
'5956' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCD' 'sip-files00021thm.jpg'
2c414bbd1db6bdb7e3ff85b1314f33f0
3b926353d5b915ed7f70eea11fbc248455c13feb
'2011-12-29T17:55:57-05:00'
describe
'372565' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCE' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
5c5ed00379b9de3c7971b6cd4b48746f
7e03e78efe32d2533d6c9544000a7fab4b1e5776
'2011-12-29T18:07:22-05:00'
describe
'72840' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCF' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
5229ca6534153cc2a81caf50e4192c43
01807653a8953f19062a237b40acfaa79d77aa1a
'2011-12-29T17:56:03-05:00'
describe
'25493' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCG' 'sip-files00022.pro'
5fa3fefa0de339cf9050be2072fe1859
e24bf64f268669aaea7006e73db588ca0783198f
'2011-12-29T18:21:43-05:00'
describe
'24742' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCH' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
866de87b72e1c44b396f542310614c45
bce7b253d27bab07c7a935d616c708c1bdc1afc8
'2011-12-29T17:56:56-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCI' 'sip-files00022.tif'
d1f11f85a7e7cba46a7125a0645cf2f3
c37e68c68c10e4437348d5a1abed9cb63239ee09
'2011-12-29T18:14:14-05:00'
describe
'1306' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCJ' 'sip-files00022.txt'
7c189d6eb481cfd49795b727e4ccb8c4
c57cdfbd103522de7cddbd4db7353637739863e2
'2011-12-29T17:57:51-05:00'
describe
'6724' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCK' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
37482dda96e571f16273540f57b674cb
51b576846da375e04f91d2548a7f84de9653ac06
'2011-12-29T17:59:58-05:00'
describe
'372637' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCL' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
b974a1866cb3cced7d26687c56944454
c87ca1a5e52ace8aa5342f4e593eb0ee2b63f1c9
'2011-12-29T18:15:11-05:00'
describe
'43316' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCM' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
dff092cb6d4888e006516d611cc6a118
cc9de152d204ebce40fbe21c9a82e58ebf46e426
'2011-12-29T18:16:59-05:00'
describe
'16729' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCN' 'sip-files00023.pro'
7ba5c0504f831d0e2ac5d7a0436d1f00
a41e598d2f21e364d4d780abf04566db20f339dc
'2011-12-29T18:07:11-05:00'
describe
'13193' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCO' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
33cb1f91ad719d991477db67103e5e15
5cb31ba1c939aa61e240b52c38d17245a5f0df82
'2011-12-29T18:11:32-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCP' 'sip-files00023.tif'
f82a10d912c0336384facb863473f632
89b39743ffc31a43736465421f3188f8c1e8d256
'2011-12-29T18:16:05-05:00'
describe
'1033' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCQ' 'sip-files00023.txt'
2bd8893219e8377b13d2e8054f0bd87c
21eba52e765640346763305ff33b56e43c4cbef4
'2011-12-29T18:25:59-05:00'
describe
'3538' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCR' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
3c071bc7a64941b6ca290b527ab0351d
ffc8eaaea08638f8bae6b6231127b0f4eb197b3d
'2011-12-29T18:23:09-05:00'
describe
'372900' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCS' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
0f929983c579db1e8b600b37636036f9
4c5792d9a48de2b592efb63af8ea131d0400a2f4
'2011-12-29T17:58:29-05:00'
describe
'101440' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCT' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
98f581cff61113f7ec9940993a8dbdc9
82a766303b9d3c0fd3d59eb6cbb78a7a644eea77
'2011-12-29T18:07:31-05:00'
describe
'26150' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCU' 'sip-files00025.pro'
b202413ee8690ba96887d39a877c93a8
921812e95c550984bf9b3c1e6c0e509f0b060fb3
'2011-12-29T18:26:46-05:00'
describe
'29217' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCV' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
13d3287500ce78b2be252a5a0d071148
2d2bcb44b87cf25c80d892131d58a403f89b5683
'2011-12-29T18:12:49-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCW' 'sip-files00025.tif'
097c07000a6eecbc4ab4ba4cd93b1361
bffd79a7c7ce0c5d40ba41fd1781a36c9afaccb1
'2011-12-29T18:12:14-05:00'
describe
'1182' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCX' 'sip-files00025.txt'
ccc719e0e47728cb9bebfda549064a48
4efa5fb1fcd89f663b535eccb26e6d7fc1dc6742
'2011-12-29T17:58:54-05:00'
describe
'7609' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCY' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
a8c9b710cc5fe81fe375c8c036fa902c
dfd080b6f9f88e12803fe5d260a9287feec47c21
'2011-12-29T18:06:43-05:00'
describe
'372683' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJCZ' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
fac15b7bd267f919f6677abd00db7430
bf1d51b0abc2000eeb17967cd8024051728f61ee
'2011-12-29T18:09:00-05:00'
describe
'134433' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDA' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
6c6f10f1857659218502d63ed8131ea3
383d34b9fc2e5a8c1c35300590dcf2d0ff779f0b
'2011-12-29T18:22:58-05:00'
describe
'41110' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDB' 'sip-files00026.pro'
8755869ec874687eaa23c0607b271de7
e94556c5bcc07814054594f0fd472d8ab83d1c36
'2011-12-29T18:02:51-05:00'
describe
'40272' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDC' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
08f2c62e3c371495f2526af87638d048
3d3645d9973acfcebf91d381806c63d6b7211cff
'2011-12-29T18:17:51-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDD' 'sip-files00026.tif'
6650d3e2f2b4148d943c31d2de223834
9ce66924c6afb09664c5b96f2444094aee6a2fcd
'2011-12-29T18:12:29-05:00'
describe
'1639' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDE' 'sip-files00026.txt'
bc8d3cfce4b2ebb8de8bd33301273a58
15742d5a49619d0f9259a9a27164e3416d801a14
'2011-12-29T18:10:13-05:00'
describe
'10005' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDF' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
056fd1bcbd06a9c2aadc3da092c23e2c
c804b5002d614f58b163f62790a15de300feabc9
'2011-12-29T18:25:57-05:00'
describe
'372876' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDG' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
2af2cac5dece17e5f7d0245baeae4d88
2f20a8f14c1553230ea89e484754e9b379c9c8bb
'2011-12-29T18:13:03-05:00'
describe
'134215' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDH' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
2e9dd4707692c3e834b3501c3fa2a799
efcade50fe3c4bff971355643f2338ca570252b9
'2011-12-29T18:19:57-05:00'
describe
'41789' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDI' 'sip-files00027.pro'
03eb944305d743049863859f75f38114
94fec17f09c72c8734a38f1c6d4f6bf97e2c0471
'2011-12-29T18:25:05-05:00'
describe
'40378' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDJ' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
9b533e0fa5e3c5bf3a41709420218070
e0aea434af971f570cf307497868b6619d0dec05
'2011-12-29T18:17:01-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDK' 'sip-files00027.tif'
99308ef60f278b7594fba82dc9fd5e69
7746c66fa305c9eef8c3b122d1bf067316bcdf91
'2011-12-29T18:24:41-05:00'
describe
'1656' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDL' 'sip-files00027.txt'
a357f42b3ef0d9c825deb6d8b8830206
3aed2fd652e5350e3aa36dd11baa9a11a62728a5
'2011-12-29T18:27:56-05:00'
describe
'9703' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDM' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
945de8ad011e196633753ea10074936e
81071d87a11d9584305843bf822baa60b9cbdaa6
'2011-12-29T18:06:38-05:00'
describe
'372902' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDN' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
4a2042ee50b81bf92c132bee2dd468f6
f4ec4fa782c424853b482c0f892877da6c5d9981
'2011-12-29T17:58:31-05:00'
describe
'136981' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDO' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
a3be449064db28505934ac46aa55324e
a2d91c39c0e16f30b2e64786420c70fd47af1994
'2011-12-29T18:15:43-05:00'
describe
'43721' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDP' 'sip-files00028.pro'
824582dfd616e7510ff0940b93ef0a54
178e6fbf98a576d2da9cc7d87e035e6d01fc87e6
'2011-12-29T18:24:00-05:00'
describe
'40667' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDQ' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
16ec59896d4c9e4ef6bd96896b46a2fe
331355a0352c222d705b9bfd124aa53bfd24b878
'2011-12-29T18:15:08-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDR' 'sip-files00028.tif'
63c34cb50c7b647eeec2cfaf7b9e9372
fd067c609beb1eb9bd2e3807137d2d60220bb6d0
describe
'1719' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDS' 'sip-files00028.txt'
6d8835b3afddf369921f5a4c8ba339bc
f2e48c9c3e7b53bbb97a1b78c174c9ee62948b1d
'2011-12-29T18:06:47-05:00'
describe
'9681' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDT' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
a9599bacfa4c7b4deaa0b98156a0d7e6
c3f559a1bc99193e05c02b60c37986bda695002b
'2011-12-29T18:01:07-05:00'
describe
'372692' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDU' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
c62f709132048e80a87c3733f4af4cf5
578ff018e2a2b1aaf38c4ee8f8f57b0ee34fc3a5
'2011-12-29T18:10:10-05:00'
describe
'127901' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDV' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
296763f1d9180ff277ad49c587dfc379
adc64400f39541dcd5aafeddccdbeddc7e0cc235
'2011-12-29T18:08:50-05:00'
describe
'40956' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDW' 'sip-files00029.pro'
95f6b32cfa7d2d1e82d2014233ffcb42
7b6a6f93c3e20fac5f403eccf9f911ca336ccaaa
describe
'38995' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDX' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
29ccbded463667bb0a1dd9373dba048d
b10c6b2685292a70298ec26caa8f2b62cc6b7c71
'2011-12-29T17:55:52-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDY' 'sip-files00029.tif'
fd3d8024578aadf3cb60f345689ffb6d
68137db644a5e9ed2b4a4549c83002db56106271
describe
'1628' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJDZ' 'sip-files00029.txt'
30ed697f44d2992ba9aa019bc2eb4891
6f8b984f2fac514cad636a4eb69a5f2747601497
'2011-12-29T18:10:28-05:00'
describe
'9370' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEA' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
7b100fa842b36a5d2fe33d7a21b0de0b
8e2fd58361f9d18c793e4b790960282ef7e2d8d2
'2011-12-29T18:19:48-05:00'
describe
'373161' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEB' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
c329f910088c319f6465b752d06d3874
ec5c2317c3eb38dce596061f74e6c40f2e19f3c4
'2011-12-29T18:02:11-05:00'
describe
'130125' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEC' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
81855eae7e4b54b7199a48ecc31d958a
196e48f7a859879e688cc550dcf53f17b2b5c5af
'2011-12-29T18:01:51-05:00'
describe
'41604' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJED' 'sip-files00030.pro'
bc18863e933e274884548f67dd859c4c
980d8a9e53b31a95fda4e2f1c72ca1801b7d2ffb
'2011-12-29T17:58:20-05:00'
describe
'38739' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEE' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
0a29c4e91b1da026aa8a6f8dbaf70a6d
1c448ddb0e085195c139ff53c3d9a960283b07bc
'2011-12-29T18:10:12-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEF' 'sip-files00030.tif'
04bb435e7cf8b58e446ca3baa75ecdd7
57d99b22e5c2b8bf992cea0c2edfe4dfbdf5c58b
'2011-12-29T18:16:43-05:00'
describe
'1640' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEG' 'sip-files00030.txt'
3dfb8b7e4689a6fe7cf9edb1ced56d06
8c4bd03efec29b48842a309f8f7eedd501f5591b
'2011-12-29T18:23:42-05:00'
describe
'9439' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEH' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
07c17f037a558f3e4f03e252f1ba2137
0224abe0ee31725815a9990dbbc25fb1519cdf6a
'2011-12-29T18:15:09-05:00'
describe
'372985' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEI' 'sip-files00031.jp2'
782fb9089b4dcaa0b06e4000063b9e4e
f684875063555b93e99f16971c927e52bfb25c36
'2011-12-29T18:20:29-05:00'
describe
'159070' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEJ' 'sip-files00031.jpg'
d9931ce23c2a617c70fe9c37f2ef1ee3
cc99fedadb1ad0776990e1c70031acd857cca5b3
'2011-12-29T18:06:55-05:00'
describe
'877' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEK' 'sip-files00031.pro'
8859122a6e6e52c0ddc5bfdf5c556d43
002ea61bc8f78a8e85d8e834a6c993d43d3bdc81
'2011-12-29T18:00:09-05:00'
describe
'35654' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEL' 'sip-files00031.QC.jpg'
c3f4367ceeedf73aad1c6e8a0a09b824
407f274f258280ebf5cfc97f63ca972a56e44948
'2011-12-29T18:20:07-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEM' 'sip-files00031.tif'
1eec5e12e8a9675368a20df5a4c3614d
9b0b9081dff9635b060f98b4e4268fc5f3bf9fc0
'2011-12-29T18:07:27-05:00'
describe
'149' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEN' 'sip-files00031.txt'
5c8d9f5b3f5c4b01421b83449f896732
fb078fd099add2150fc33c483874ed2d1a776282
'2011-12-29T18:01:02-05:00'
describe
'8950' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEO' 'sip-files00031thm.jpg'
cc0b6ec6ca8cfecb7131938e3c786a54
a707f2c584615bfcbba43247f08149b593f40409
'2011-12-29T17:58:00-05:00'
describe
'372870' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEP' 'sip-files00033.jp2'
dc03f2b23126738b9bf3ea1a7042373a
18f1c2194f6c507889ec410e42e859e09f8c5c0a
'2011-12-29T18:08:17-05:00'
describe
'135174' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEQ' 'sip-files00033.jpg'
ddbdd3bb0d3582c5a344a81f287f3f81
e21c7ba120c3334c26215f7dbe04ce0fea1d9bd7
'2011-12-29T18:16:38-05:00'
describe
'41239' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJER' 'sip-files00033.pro'
94f22632518775a23b13246359f653e6
8202c0032e069753fe7c27d013ab798ec38a61a3
'2011-12-29T18:01:22-05:00'
describe
'39219' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJES' 'sip-files00033.QC.jpg'
03f912bdfe9253c1e4f98d48370103a3
f3a88087f6c805de9828b6562b3580e8050d6b38
'2011-12-29T18:25:46-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJET' 'sip-files00033.tif'
687eb2d9b0a740883786a7359a9846a2
39a343fcea15f4e3e72899511b904437291fffb7
'2011-12-29T18:11:38-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEU' 'sip-files00033.txt'
5ccf9124b20c35e95c9569d69b706d87
66a234b68ff522fa3e4f54f7a7c176a1563eadde
'2011-12-29T17:59:49-05:00'
describe
'9419' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEV' 'sip-files00033thm.jpg'
bdd48770ced624fd881770003b919435
fea4ae502a36cf3644270e8b5fd471b387946802
'2011-12-29T18:17:32-05:00'
describe
'372898' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEW' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
923105728c805aad457df58479d98168
2cd55836f7490190d79a05fba97ed996257e7b1a
'2011-12-29T18:03:45-05:00'
describe
'122710' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEX' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
a2fcb1269e9e81cec210534705c3fcf6
f6fabdaf778a128cb57c476186c93b3b7d7161e1
'2011-12-29T17:58:11-05:00'
describe
'38021' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEY' 'sip-files00034.pro'
345a2696505ca74bbaf0497f4aae23f4
e1d5fea740ed802b1df85ef30cd50bf6994af84a
'2011-12-29T18:10:45-05:00'
describe
'36566' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJEZ' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
04fd9991f97bed098d79ea7df5c3fa51
ecc0487ae26c5ef8c7075f747f209adbf9bc005f
'2011-12-29T17:57:55-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFA' 'sip-files00034.tif'
222e233943ab04c48cb534b04c086a67
e5a19e48176ccb11f4ed64f64fa41085417ca41c
'2011-12-29T18:00:48-05:00'
describe
'1514' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFB' 'sip-files00034.txt'
3704943a21dd550b68f9890bb547bcc9
487aa2a53f9ddd896077d10de9f7919770991c3d
describe
'9356' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFC' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
5b79b73a8752b9d88c393ebc450554e4
d05332b52c300cb1d96c589711de13b3754b94e7
'2011-12-29T18:20:09-05:00'
describe
'372875' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFD' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
5eeb4c3755e64d41c67619981aa2d7fd
60c32ef22496c04942c60d665cee5bfd0d096794
'2011-12-29T18:03:54-05:00'
describe
'118514' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFE' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
d193aaf2a505b5dfa718481d8923840e
77aa758784d1816e5b751779a274075a822a5877
'2011-12-29T18:26:02-05:00'
describe
'37623' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFF' 'sip-files00035.pro'
b12f8920ddd0031bc0dcbdefd354b9e5
4dd9985c64a3fbb974331199cd2bc3fcd23d1ac8
'2011-12-29T18:15:03-05:00'
describe
'35425' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFG' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
b15855cbfd2270faadc849f35df3a9f1
fba0f8a1984b1ff296bc826cf5b0f8a87df51cf6
'2011-12-29T18:02:45-05:00'
describe
'3000040' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFH' 'sip-files00035.tif'
d6a60fad933b4b303f7f50dca9ed28df
5645d5f310eb7f25792bba762a91e596c12673a2
'2011-12-29T18:18:43-05:00'
describe
'1511' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFI' 'sip-files00035.txt'
9e68b3291c938d1b00af4f6e7bb57480
29068eb8a875553b38b72819a7ed117ff52049ef
'2011-12-29T17:57:46-05:00'
describe
'9387' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFJ' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
7e3633ab89d2a7fc2c9a90bf311566f2
c50b7268793f57f956d5c9e815da8f193bcb8799
'2011-12-29T18:16:54-05:00'
describe
'372894' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFK' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
5addff88c0a0e03774c06c15f49833af
bcb1c8c0783130ba73e6bcd26edef7078e5b60fd
describe
'57865' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFL' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
756c873693d7cf47bd3260915e45b31e
04d2f57ee1d72db4e8df4e3bfb3b5194b0511d00
'2011-12-29T18:10:44-05:00'
describe
'12468' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFM' 'sip-files00036.pro'
58ccea9e0b090a3496777c9afc0e4a84
5ef1c02d256f28380313b46f679b4ab17fb583b5
'2011-12-29T18:08:19-05:00'
describe
'15228' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFN' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
3d5233f8a66a81d65a471bfd4fab164c
d2e57d25afe9ccf253305bfb2cbcb621044428ba
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFO' 'sip-files00036.tif'
a314ed3dfb743fcf26aee1e6b893acbb
3bbf21ff3a8435077fe13bc2b2cb80c1f1d2ebda
'2011-12-29T18:25:43-05:00'
describe
'505' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFP' 'sip-files00036.txt'
32c879f7cd3328a68afe9dd623f3b540
3e260811c79d594f3cc3ef863d42cfd19fb993b5
'2011-12-29T18:02:31-05:00'
describe
'4033' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFQ' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
e9ad9fcea57db4d98d6188cd3ace6b12
517c19a83c02fe0df28c484c90aa95bc6d32e645
'2011-12-29T18:08:25-05:00'
describe
'373035' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFR' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
445f4127f1e619b66aa77c029ed56d03
8c83257280685a1f906227430487f6332ab3e917
'2011-12-29T18:03:26-05:00'
describe
'100501' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFS' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
edbf2ae0306ec4c94e3e900f9eb4dd34
220aa2628457fd79cb9cc2c5dced39a6a54ccf32
'2011-12-29T18:04:17-05:00'
describe
'27976' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFT' 'sip-files00037.pro'
f73c50f71540cfcb8ba3087de69e8d81
56a552df5da0e84d4c3df8f9307e76b58707d4c8
'2011-12-29T18:02:21-05:00'
describe
'29630' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFU' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
8d5db5fa41c2d911cc9a3118f86ab8f4
62fd28bb34de671e71d0161bd88dbf304797c05e
'2011-12-29T18:01:30-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFV' 'sip-files00037.tif'
94fe475bbef1289aa0706266bbbe7621
823e33d136f98a8aecf5c712c2d9a182d52585d2
'2011-12-29T18:02:00-05:00'
describe
'1302' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFW' 'sip-files00037.txt'
60da12118b0fc426c18d2d9d80411bc5
ac4f83cda944639e0181928814880fba235725e9
'2011-12-29T18:07:47-05:00'
describe
'7593' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFX' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
0adb68d8ad65a9eb310a11db560c746a
ae8398103d7aba774366cdf21f52d29cef3c72d2
'2011-12-29T18:17:44-05:00'
describe
'372864' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFY' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
8baee9a3d887c1dcfbea0d6a894362fc
0697c84275d8bc1935781f83b6927b79c628bb5b
'2011-12-29T17:57:57-05:00'
describe
'128165' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJFZ' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
5dc99326951d2797de10f22a96cb2f89
9b8b4d0f0a1971c616124f9e2cf561fcb43ffbd2
'2011-12-29T18:18:48-05:00'
describe
'41592' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGA' 'sip-files00038.pro'
7aa55a957c3183e8decb6e8b7f8242ad
5f55147ea54130b471d92aa3785faa4e7da6f2cf
describe
'38763' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGB' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
86d47736d3e18b878df970a41a1c1c12
1317c93e45838fc6efb5ce40304aacec9ef643e9
'2011-12-29T18:12:37-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGC' 'sip-files00038.tif'
6e7705b4d5286dc7ee71e7f19e2feb91
f023039fdaf29092bf5ebd302ddfc31765e3337e
'2011-12-29T18:20:21-05:00'
describe
'1643' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGD' 'sip-files00038.txt'
6b125786cb35117d9b6e195693bc278b
5d2a67a46174a883a42ea6e645ce385bad47a0d0
'2011-12-29T17:58:45-05:00'
describe
'9415' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGE' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
5bb90c19f0893f8bce67a3239e2dba4d
ed244e7a0144f5b083e9e36a439291287b6bf010
'2011-12-29T18:22:19-05:00'
describe
'372890' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGF' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
a63de6e44bb1cfb47505adde25d60e89
58c4d58f686fc70833aa9e101fd60ef343c06c00
describe
'134835' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGG' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
ff9fe2469956b47857394a31e8ba96ec
2a353910feb08123ff796ca9391e230a21ce04f4
'2011-12-29T17:58:59-05:00'
describe
'39975' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGH' 'sip-files00039.pro'
642eb69876c77192145819b1c69e1b85
816de714e421261b50f4ef94f222493754967c2d
'2011-12-29T18:08:08-05:00'
describe
'39406' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGI' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
ea803fa15d470a9f88e8a097ddcd83ed
3377ed9ed2b742e1f6b9ed887f8575c298b7ccf1
'2011-12-29T18:06:48-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGJ' 'sip-files00039.tif'
21f44e4802e2305f39024f1423a5c22f
e9417e126990d88ceec507c787bd6ff04e357e5b
'2011-12-29T17:58:24-05:00'
describe
'1622' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGK' 'sip-files00039.txt'
9b08e8387c5aeda59517e6b062e6c794
b66c5cf4005639380af1cc8031431119ead3d179
'2011-12-29T18:20:56-05:00'
describe
'9589' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGL' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
2d5529a32140cf084cdecb94bdc22fb7
eaaaec1b55b30caf96f94255b9793dca4324ed51
'2011-12-29T18:18:58-05:00'
describe
'372899' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGM' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
cbbd697996d33baa2a41af76467c6ca2
b62d06e43e6ca0b74c02ea3ea5faa0b46c94d916
'2011-12-29T18:27:41-05:00'
describe
'133043' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGN' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
f1534bb711d67617e42197e09a7c3ab9
40ecc1f9cef2efb53527237f3e38bed40b7edac8
'2011-12-29T18:19:56-05:00'
describe
'42602' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGO' 'sip-files00040.pro'
68f75407585228a00f7b3e5c49935fd4
695abd1139da71ed5aed4330f84c914b8175dcb2
describe
'39495' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGP' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
351499ed374aeebbdb5e9c64d90e2bee
dfe1f09ab0808593c8d104c59129b6aaded3ea09
'2011-12-29T17:57:21-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGQ' 'sip-files00040.tif'
98cf8430c3cb41a223019158ef8009b4
c5de89d3a9774c95a43d82c15bd35c34df69dcbc
describe
'1694' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGR' 'sip-files00040.txt'
2f14901f29aae228b2bf9ec1cccb2c41
4cc2b69101fa05e62aae1682275a38f675335cd1
'2011-12-29T18:07:32-05:00'
describe
'9692' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGS' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
d1dc268f78cfed5e686fa990829837a2
32c2faffe017a2db5b38379d67d6b4229e83f0ef
'2011-12-29T18:07:21-05:00'
describe
'372871' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGT' 'sip-files00041.jp2'
a2eb48baf2ec3ddaee2ff739be7b1ecb
d0e7e4ae535010b40bd9f9b244ceba3b005cf55b
'2011-12-29T18:16:49-05:00'
describe
'115704' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGU' 'sip-files00041.jpg'
ea48781f4c0db9d5090473a20e9c0423
5aabb7b9b926cdd795e2272fb4397779ec678c8a
describe
'39204' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGV' 'sip-files00041.pro'
4d391a3531129a50347a4be0d856f701
5215f8e5730f8fde6709da6360ccb19b7f045113
'2011-12-29T17:56:16-05:00'
describe
'35335' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGW' 'sip-files00041.QC.jpg'
20383393e59b197c4d0206b68858eabf
716f7ec3b637dc73d85b5fafd3e558c67550aba8
'2011-12-29T18:15:13-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGX' 'sip-files00041.tif'
33239e9e24f29c4ff0d6dc2889b2cd3d
f4064b1a557b65b99bb49bad07070f44a71244ab
'2011-12-29T18:22:33-05:00'
describe
'1559' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGY' 'sip-files00041.txt'
54cee7734cda617de737ac5acaeb67be
cd14f6ff2e0a60472e72c0a3639c380de2031c74
'2011-12-29T18:17:59-05:00'
describe
'9615' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJGZ' 'sip-files00041thm.jpg'
4e999a274d6d46b2f30029146322b288
f9d305e7b4bcd8c0dda8dd3a90c1112134150a62
'2011-12-29T17:55:56-05:00'
describe
'372861' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHA' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
c39883846f732186c35481e89e50488b
6d9d0a15d5b982fd0c45f2ed21a66322f8e2aea8
'2011-12-29T18:10:50-05:00'
describe
'131175' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHB' 'sip-files00042.jpg'
4a2d34f0211e551a7577523c74ce5b04
a607a514b387ff1227864454e6bf59df6a4093a3
describe
'41407' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHC' 'sip-files00042.pro'
45a6b9b97330036f61004ae2d27dd8ff
19273c81469bcf37cac37c3b84ee37bae16da467
'2011-12-29T18:27:36-05:00'
describe
'38907' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHD' 'sip-files00042.QC.jpg'
806bd93a9b554d84cce4aeedae46c214
a071703867e349a48e53b4962f6eb12b67fc4164
'2011-12-29T18:23:33-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHE' 'sip-files00042.tif'
d8e3a1f7740bc9125b7539061b65c72c
709bff99386a7498646933a43e620ef787964b81
'2011-12-29T18:26:16-05:00'
describe
'1655' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHF' 'sip-files00042.txt'
eb66915d3c415befb08b9a8647d90606
5fbc445d007689762db9e39436d00a99e13b0929
'2011-12-29T18:28:15-05:00'
describe
'9694' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHG' 'sip-files00042thm.jpg'
cd31fbae5288f61c5ac4cde68acec6d3
706e71116a7eca9d1a6185689f10b155a70a307b
'2011-12-29T18:03:55-05:00'
describe
'373140' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHH' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
6129825ff8675c1eac40e26522ac0d1f
a0529d726478b9bb9e8f05d0517bcfd265ba5509
'2011-12-29T18:16:19-05:00'
describe
'119024' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHI' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
a0cd3786be1949b65b10a21acb98e518
491ef926511fc56018fbfccc99305351cba8f979
'2011-12-29T18:15:46-05:00'
describe
'39476' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHJ' 'sip-files00043.pro'
73b56a01f4d2b4d52d56315fb256c004
facd1f7d8e661f24dfeb81963aa8157f4c073885
'2011-12-29T18:07:51-05:00'
describe
'36758' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHK' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
86c74500ed353a256fde9e341523c91e
9b5b1790bd2265cb5a691ab0cb47f0d524e82953
'2011-12-29T18:14:00-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHL' 'sip-files00043.tif'
568b2a2c922d00ed54ab6771949014e5
a48ff0063add083da8ed58638d5d161068f4ccec
'2011-12-29T18:13:48-05:00'
describe
'1573' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHM' 'sip-files00043.txt'
670a3aa15bc0ab53aedff3e915a71ad9
80f5e80104d99d1178623048c855bc9cb2dbcfc3
describe
'9151' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHN' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
634c5a4cdf9631244780a31744fe08d5
13bd8c54209aa663b3d2f3423ccfe2f21f73f157
'2011-12-29T18:26:54-05:00'
describe
'372895' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHO' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
a607aedbc7965a9f1fca72529c393d0a
6328057d554c0392a3290354f11a87d6290ba6a4
describe
'123275' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHP' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
7c6ec7bee2b30be2b6eac696ac52942e
ddb6378c4080f88a524e71a714d7dcc12d20835d
describe
'38272' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHQ' 'sip-files00044.pro'
372b2d4dd183730c14fc4ac41ee3b331
e4dafd57ff8ed3e244e8d62baf36dee61fcd82b6
'2011-12-29T18:17:53-05:00'
describe
'36792' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHR' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
601ac476d72822219bf8c2ee5e37a58e
4df14b20cc0fb1d81499db6d04f233103156cd87
'2011-12-29T18:01:09-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHS' 'sip-files00044.tif'
43c08a8dadfc983d2bdb6187d3f4da03
4d516d29231b0bc90963d195bd96d4cfc2252f06
'2011-12-29T18:13:22-05:00'
describe
'1524' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHT' 'sip-files00044.txt'
be1bd9245a830eb31dcdcfcc71a5e8ec
100e78b5b4d21877dd01077a18dedf9be1ff06fc
'2011-12-29T18:23:46-05:00'
describe
'8929' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHU' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
1eae008ed08810c08a716cb90fe05c3b
9b27df9aed2790b256a67f9088fdadd64c6915be
'2011-12-29T18:11:30-05:00'
describe
'373171' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHV' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
8128e898d6ef087e68b941d63809c952
acc596b2af5d85582ddf860405bda23896e10bb4
'2011-12-29T17:56:08-05:00'
describe
'131086' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHW' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
89ab4a6c0e704ab0d5117549933bea93
5370b8bd03e6d52589129e0fb4c7235b05a1ea3e
'2011-12-29T18:08:15-05:00'
describe
'39376' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHX' 'sip-files00045.pro'
deae3336f35ba7a85f09e5d9fccde1d5
e9d0a2304b917f32bb9d5916577fff1703aba250
'2011-12-29T18:24:37-05:00'
describe
'38209' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHY' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
6376ea4e760a142d035e8f9fd9a16ce0
3f4137c68da035e0fbb5101c8013d5de8595aaa8
'2011-12-29T18:01:40-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJHZ' 'sip-files00045.tif'
90f63070c8c9c9246df503047ca35af6
3895ee391a166fa816d44807b5832ac58f86f5b9
'2011-12-29T18:12:43-05:00'
describe
'1563' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIA' 'sip-files00045.txt'
ad5f2da0ae33e96b5d9544da7e22e803
3e5d58a9ad70c8c4baf179acaa9a444293a76958
'2011-12-29T18:02:26-05:00'
describe
'9500' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIB' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
f0177b2d42141282e48ac933f0f4a838
36ae1719bee793c75c3979e2dc2e419287bfc67f
'2011-12-29T18:00:21-05:00'
describe
'372839' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIC' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
b035375012f43f71e749b88cc28f2cdc
49c445b1d5b4ce76218eeb7e3f7685c1c56157f8
'2011-12-29T18:19:52-05:00'
describe
'117033' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJID' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
195e80d0762a47f5fbec546fdbca9656
90e623a2a6eedb8e71b29d1af350ee8be43d4921
'2011-12-29T18:01:34-05:00'
describe
'38085' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIE' 'sip-files00046.pro'
4134737d24c223af93446266bb89ee80
256408706c78b2fbc7ae54bcdc1c96cc6666a3e6
'2011-12-29T17:59:30-05:00'
describe
'34911' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIF' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
ddd35e163fe4f41af00b9418400868f7
0da2edf699390c193fb8395b7487f3b533a1d13c
'2011-12-29T18:11:49-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIG' 'sip-files00046.tif'
f87a1c25239e7421f0429137a5babc5c
c6b488436e0403df013a4771ebb6e1269c7bba8d
'2011-12-29T17:57:38-05:00'
describe
'1536' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIH' 'sip-files00046.txt'
21e7ed7086e90546a83bbec9a5027579
33bbd14a42765f7bad4b6382123b7aba2844c481
'2011-12-29T18:05:07-05:00'
describe
'9166' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJII' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
e5a6748ed89f474cbfa3300d81bb288a
0df9780514820372ab2dd3701b569afad29e889b
'2011-12-29T18:03:05-05:00'
describe
'373155' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIJ' 'sip-files00047.jp2'
592ceddcce2c78aa48b7defafd40092c
2640eab0580048080f3afacb8ac6d621a245b136
'2011-12-29T18:26:08-05:00'
describe
'99656' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIK' 'sip-files00047.jpg'
0eb9efb4572ffb4216664a037f7d67b0
c1330588f393e97e8a75906770601a478c3b7a3e
'2011-12-29T18:17:31-05:00'
describe
'30231' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIL' 'sip-files00047.pro'
e1a4d5038e2a2e1c475574bbfc9c1720
616b0dfea45fbce96b0ccd970df06f044d85394e
describe
'29561' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIM' 'sip-files00047.QC.jpg'
549809fa6ce8022e30cf99fd7c8a7579
5de9e9d0f61788fb0987284704b67fce7d5e2f37
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIN' 'sip-files00047.tif'
3e4d2b6baa888450f95762802598a71c
ce68b63f80bdbcb43cde36e9697a1876c1c9cdc6
'2011-12-29T18:01:33-05:00'
describe
'1234' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIO' 'sip-files00047.txt'
2cf9e1c25046aac40be09fc93ac202ad
831586b7d9f32b876a5e3609d6c28911819783c8
'2011-12-29T18:03:37-05:00'
describe
'8104' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIP' 'sip-files00047thm.jpg'
777759e5ba0b793d235a04dd78ca31c1
924f7075909f2758da0b34dd73c03c09f0b75a6b
describe
'373168' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIQ' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
811b53a7312e93caafa0bf11fadbe04f
fcc9ee416e5e95f8d45f20b7bb36f7b3c9550b7e
describe
'106975' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIR' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
0825bc18bd7fdaa22f73bce13898f380
aef454b30853a4852839203cea00c5fcad9b26c2
'2011-12-29T18:08:30-05:00'
describe
'25813' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIS' 'sip-files00048.pro'
29a3e26cb729af680cfafc1deefeb8ad
3cb0b61646b19f11def602202d5735e1a1711c32
'2011-12-29T18:22:02-05:00'
describe
'30123' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIT' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
32bb3fae930fbacde6c197178bde5240
ff41ed5ff17c8b5aa788528a81af0e7cdf504745
'2011-12-29T18:03:46-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIU' 'sip-files00048.tif'
98275931a36409a2895209922c1f734f
f57c262c6612d53e484f29cc22990df30a2e8db4
'2011-12-29T18:12:18-05:00'
describe
'1235' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIV' 'sip-files00048.txt'
65351c952dfbb4be2e801ed0d68cf3ea
0a0945a635ec5ec35e5ff57a15af7d7cc0b9fe7c
'2011-12-29T18:01:59-05:00'
describe
'7520' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIW' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
2ca35f7733128d8069c9b9114be04fbb
8eaf6c2de4750cdac63da2127de08b8705f18c45
'2011-12-29T18:04:35-05:00'
describe
'373163' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIX' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
7a8558600ae6d4d726694e8b3ac8592e
83e00ea61aec477c5f0c5c250bf3593b504247b8
describe
'127178' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIY' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
55f906c1d93e99029f3da614dbd787df
67a5868fe94527dd788516868861b468b80ddba1
'2011-12-29T17:57:26-05:00'
describe
'38570' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJIZ' 'sip-files00049.pro'
d3157d8ff68cae76e3791c489627512f
df271a4da7ef3e8231cd915860badc9566c9197f
describe
'38606' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJA' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
3b59d16404a6b5bb6b661dd14c130c88
1c66753e2c1e4bea609fbc5359e824bec7369032
'2011-12-29T18:12:03-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJB' 'sip-files00049.tif'
c91cd519ad3ddb82ab36a1285106613f
f689597e831c8c3f4db33fef5469198809e80ee1
'2011-12-29T17:58:04-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJC' 'sip-files00049.txt'
8f65b87987c644e8c121da1fd9728c39
86a188f434e400260c88cb81c6f86bd6ce4fa019
'2011-12-29T17:59:16-05:00'
describe
'9753' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJD' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
d2ccc499b53326023e8bf0e100e6348d
fbe6a9e5d4833aaf777e7064b3c3887aab307638
'2011-12-29T18:10:37-05:00'
describe
'372728' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJE' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
8dea4bf4c432a6524d0b9ceaadc48869
5f72cbf6cdaa3d069106c1bf033299b476937774
'2011-12-29T17:56:31-05:00'
describe
'123780' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJF' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
726ae631348ce5bccf8d041d3e9400d7
5ca60973a418246a4fe64cb7b5d44ef4a08904f4
'2011-12-29T18:25:58-05:00'
describe
'38275' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJG' 'sip-files00050.pro'
ed7be51251a37201e688c0c3de484ee9
f92b566a027ba4b3ac4d1cbddea6b11948f7f216
'2011-12-29T18:03:29-05:00'
describe
'35952' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJH' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
5626884c2c8425924aa3605703567a27
e43d1f425256afd8cff4ac1fd14c0d6359740495
'2011-12-29T18:09:26-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJI' 'sip-files00050.tif'
8c0321aeefa2ef61ff1463e5ce111f5f
f7ba18f5022c284d827878481e900d8bba4e6e39
'2011-12-29T18:22:46-05:00'
describe
'1519' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJJ' 'sip-files00050.txt'
669a2be0337ca2d57bab0c39d7dfb19d
3e27f120b48e77ebedc9372ab56b85834bf6c5e4
'2011-12-29T18:00:51-05:00'
describe
'8974' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJK' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
cb99841ac79b9fc218ec9d3ab56166fe
52140567484ec93875c5159e26d93f5db1a6267c
'2011-12-29T17:55:49-05:00'
describe
'372893' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJL' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
84041bf5e31f568300dedce237232a35
fa1352083c5491cb5fc96871ed1bab8cf8b8de99
describe
'126327' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJM' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
e0fb86a15114866ad36e347d9caa17c2
67150a317995d412d4dc467cb6e707093e0d23c0
describe
'40591' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJN' 'sip-files00051.pro'
38046eb9b2d70a20e58961e40086d6e1
dce14b9cc7a64e11140985bee57d8ea4612779bf
describe
'38091' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJO' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
82b97fa1610a7b5c27194762445fca97
6a6526ba5f6bcc689db387f9653654c5c894681f
'2011-12-29T18:23:58-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJP' 'sip-files00051.tif'
bdcc6c3c269a12eb8e2b278b9837eccc
19d3c7fa324144f7f8ad6685143d8e9db506bb68
'2011-12-29T18:01:23-05:00'
describe
'1617' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJQ' 'sip-files00051.txt'
a73b29f7bcecad7798414a67de31459a
fbdbbcfa0fb1e2f4398cc7a845d9c5b04503abd1
'2011-12-29T17:56:50-05:00'
describe
'9444' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJR' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
a17dab067994c44ec94fe43b9a10d5c7
49545f876d06402387377a42bd7c18399c019c4b
'2011-12-29T18:18:27-05:00'
describe
'372881' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJS' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
8401d9423383b1643989721ddd5db3c4
5bc4332faa4aff284577fecf554f12fc31b5912b
'2011-12-29T18:23:21-05:00'
describe
'119378' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJT' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
dd51737b4a38c5b106338c8b6ddec0a8
a161b35cb67d3f0ca6bc1a11d34200b1bd13c982
'2011-12-29T17:56:32-05:00'
describe
'38864' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJU' 'sip-files00052.pro'
87c0b8d7f9057f84783c292c3ecf43a5
bc79dc02751fb56ee91ccebca7fdf0204bb3b2ca
'2011-12-29T18:02:41-05:00'
describe
'37248' 'info:fdaE20081212_AAAAOLfileF20081215_AAAJJV' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
719c2b261179753bb5fc239356d8cfce
94eb50b9879d508