Birds and Nature, Vol. VIII, No. 4, November 1900

THE BUFFLE-HEAD

(Charitonetta albeola.)

This small and wonderfully beautiful duck is a native of North America, wintering in the latitude of Cuba and Mexico and breeding from Maine to Montana and northward. It is said that a favorite place for its nesting is along the banks of the Yukon river, and other streams of the boreal regions, yet it is reported that the young have been captured in the Adirondack mountains. Though classed with the "sea ducks" (Fuligulinae) it is one of the most common of our fresh-water forms, and, like many other animals, as well as vegetable forms, of wide distribution, it is the recipient of numerous popular names, nearly all of them being more or less suggestive of its characteristics or habits. In the North it is frequently called the Butter-ball, the Butter-box, the Butter duck, the Spirit duck and the Dipper. In the South some of the same names are heard, but perhaps more often the Marionette, the Scotch dipper, or duck, the Scotch teal and the Wool-head. However, no more appropriate name could be selected than that of Buffle-head, having reference to the showy, ruffled or puffed plumage of the head. The technical name, albeola, meaning whitish, was given this species by Linnaeus in 1758, on account of the pure white on the side of the head.

The adult males vary but little. The plumage of the head is puffy and, with that of the upper half of the neck, is a "rich silky, metallic green, violet purple and greenish bronze, the last prevailing on the lower part of the neck, the green on the anterior part of the head, the purple on the cheeks and crown." A beautiful pure white patch extends from the eyes, meeting on the top of the head. The lower portion of the neck and nearly all the feathers of the under side of the body, as well as the wing coverts, are also showy white. The lining of the wings is dark, and the upper side of the body is black.

The head of the female is less puffy and of a brownish or dark gray color. The white head patch is not so prominent or pure and the plumage of the under side of the body is more or less tinged with gray. In both sexes the iris is dark brown, the bill bluish or lead color, and the legs and feet pinkish.

There are few birds that are more expert in diving or swimming, while on land, owing to their larger feet and shorter legs, they are more awkward and waddle more than many of the ordinary ducks. Their graceful attitude while floating on the water, moving apparently without any motion of the body and scarcely causing a ripple on even a placid surface, has given them the name Spirit duck.

The Buffle-head, like nearly all the sea ducks, feeds on mollusks and other animal-forms found in the water. As a result, their flesh is usually coarse and quite too rank for use as a food. The canvas-back is a notable exception, for during the winter months it feeds on the wild celery (Vallisneria) of the Middle Atlantic coast, and thus its flesh receives the flavor so appreciated by those who relish game food.

AN HOUR WITH AN ANT

If you want to know how to accomplish a hard task, come with me and watch a little ant for an hour.

She was a small, black ant, and, seeing a brown worm eight times as large as herself, she was seized with the ambition to take it home in triumph.

Now will you tell me how she knew that she could have no power over the worm while he was on his ten feet, that stuck to the sidewalk like glue? Before she attempted anything, she fastened her mandibles into his side and turned him over on his back just as you see Bridget turn the mattress. Then running to his head she again fastened her mandibles and dragged him for a couple of inches. While pausing to get her breath, the worm took the opportunity to get on his feet once more. The ant did not seem to notice the change in position till she tried again to drag the body. As soon as she felt it sticking, around she ran to the side, over went the worm in a trice, and once more the two started on their journey. Now they were close to a crack in the broad sidewalk, and I, thinking to help the little worker, in whom by this time I was quite interested, lifted the worm across the crack.

Did you ever try to help some one and find too late you had done exactly the wrong thing? Then you know how I felt when that little ant began rushing around as if she were crazy, and when she got hold of the worm again, began to drag it back across the very crack I had lifted it over. Can you guess why? She was taking a bee-line to her house, and I had changed the direction. But how was she to get that big body across a crack that could swallow them both? That was what I waited anxiously to see. Soon the worm felt himself going down, down into a dark abyss, and of course caught hold of the side to save himself, and when he once felt he had a hold on life how he did hold on! The ant was not to be daunted; balancing herself on the edge, and holding on by her feet, she reached down her mandibles and dragged him by main force straight up the perpendicular wall to the top; nor did she stop till he was carried far enough from the edge not to get down again.

In this way three cracks were safely crossed, and it was plain to see the worm was losing heart, although every time the ant paused for breath he would get over on his feet and have to be tossed back again.

And now a new difficulty arose. The worm had been dragged about eighteen inches over the boards. Fourteen inches more would bring them to the ant's house, or, rather, hill. But the way was now off from the sidewalk, and no sooner did the worm feel the stubble under him than he gathered all his strength, turned over on his feet, and held on to every spear of grass for dear life.

Indeed, it was his last chance, and I felt tempted to snatch him from the certain death awaiting him, but curiosity to see how this new obstacle would be overcome induced me to wait. The ant now felt justified in calling for assistance, and soon a dozen ants had come to help. Only five could work to advantage, so the rest, for ants never like to do the "heavy looking on," left to find other employment.

The first thing to be done was to get the worm on his back, and this proved no easy task. He could fasten his feet just as fast as the ants could unfasten them. At last two ants went to one end and two to the other. Each one of the four seized a foot in her strong mandibles and held it out as far as possible, while the fifth one turned the captive. It was the funniest sight! It was easy now to drag him two or three inches, but breath had to be taken, and again the worm fastened. In vain they tugged and pulled. He had evidently learned their tactics and knew how to defend himself. Suddenly his body moved along an inch and a half, as if by magic. Was it magic? Not at all. One little ant had run up on an overhanging blade of grass, and, reaching down, holding on by the wonderful feet spoken of before, and grabbed the poor creature in the middle, raised it right up from the ground, and keeping hold, ran along overhead till the end of the spear of grass was reached.

This was the last struggle of any importance. The worm gave up discouraged; it was only now a question of time till they had dragged him through the stubble up to the door of the house in the hill, and I saw only a faint quiver as of dread as his body passed through the mysterious opening. I could not help wondering if the ant who started the capture received all the praise she deserved, or if the other four took the glory to themselves.

At any rate, no one could take away her own satisfaction in overcoming and winning in the struggle.

Harriet Woodbridge.

SONG

 
Day is dying! Float, O song,
Down the westward river,
Requiem chanting to the Day —
Day, the mighty Giver.
 
 
Pierced by shafts of Time he bleeds,
Melted rubies sending
Through the river and the sky,
Earth and heaven blending;
 
 
All the long-drawn earthly banks
Up to cloud-land lifting:
Slow between them drifts the swan,
'Twixt two heavens drifting.
 
 
Wings half open, like a flow'r,
Inly deeper flushing,
Neck and breast as Virgin's pure —
Virgin proudly blushing.
 
 
Day is dying! Float, O swan,
Down the ruby river;
Follow, song, in requiem
To the mighty Giver.
 

– George Eliot, in the Spanish Gypsy.

THE AMERICAN EARED GREBE

(Colymbus nigricollis californicus.)

The American Eared Grebe belongs to the order of Diving Birds (Podicipedes) and the family of Grebes (Podicipidae). The order also includes the loons and auks, having in all about thirty-six species that frequent North America. Closely related to the loons, the Grebes differ from them in having the head incompletely feathered near the nostrils, which are not lobed. The feet also are not completely webbed, as are those of the loons.

Owing to the inadequately developed wings, the Grebes are poorly provided with means for protracted flight. Locomotion on land is equally difficult, due to their short legs and the fact that they are inserted far back on the body, necessitating a partially erect position in walking. However, they are expert swimmers and divers and will, when alarmed, sink quietly back into the water, swimming long distances with only the bill above the surface of the water. The popular name "Hell-diver," by which these birds are frequently known, has reference to the rapidity with which they dive.

The apparent lack of a tail and the ruffs, frequently composed of variously colored feathers, give the grebes a peculiarly characteristic appearance. The plumage of the breeding season differs greatly from that of the adult in winter and that of the young.

The grebes are abundant throughout the world, seemingly preferring lakes and rivers as a foraging ground rather than the seacoast.

The American Eared Grebe has an extensive range, including that part of North America west of the Mississippi Valley and from the Great Slave Lake south to Guatemala. It breeds in nearly all parts of this territory.

A few years since Professor Henshaw published in the American Naturalist some very interesting facts concerning the nesting habits of this bird, and they especially well illustrate some of its characteristics. He says, "In a series of alkali lakes, about thirty miles northward of Fort Garland, Southern Colorado, I found this species common and breeding. A colony of perhaps a dozen pairs had established themselves in a small pond four or five acres in extent. In the middle of this, in a bed of reeds, were found upwards of a dozen nests. These in each case merely consisted of a slightly hollowed pile of decaying weeds and rushes, four or five inches in diameter, and scarcely raised above the surface of the water upon which they floated. In a number of instances they were but a few feet distant from the nests of the coot (Fulica Americana) which abounded. Every Grebe's nest discovered contained three eggs, which in most instances were fresh, but in some nests were considerably advanced. These vary but little in shape, are considerably elongated, one end being slightly more pointed than the other. The color is a faint yellowish or bluish white, usually much stained from contact with the nest. The texture is generally quite smooth, in some instances roughened by a chalky deposit. The eggs were wholly concealed from view by a pile of weeds and other vegetable material laid across. That they were thus carefully covered merely for concealment I cannot think, since, in the isolated position in which the nests are usually found, the bird has no enemy against which such precaution would avail. On first approaching the locality, the Grebes all congregated at the further end of the pond, and shortly betook themselves through an opening to the neighboring slough; nor, so far as I could ascertain, did they again approach the nests during my stay of three days. Is it not, then, possible that they are more or less dependent for the hatching of their eggs upon artificial heat induced by the decaying vegetable substances of which the nests are wholly composed?"

The food of the Grebe consists of fish to a great extent, which are dexterously caught while swimming under water. They also feed upon the insects floating upon the surface, and will, when other food is lacking, feed upon mollusks.

THE GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION OF FISHES

There are known at the present about twenty thousand species of fishes, which are distributed throughout the creeks, rivers, lakes, seas and oceans of the world. A few species of the open sea are cosmopolitan; the others are more or less restricted in their range. Northern Asia, Europe and North America have in common a few species of fresh water fishes. There are many others of close relationship, which indicates a somewhat common origin of the fish faunas. The same is largely true of the salt water shore fishes, which live well to the north. The fresh water fishes of South America, Africa and Australia are all different from each other, none being even closely related as are those we find in the countries of the northern hemisphere.

The fishes of our Atlantic coast are different from those of the Pacific, very few species being common to both coasts. The fishes of the Ohio river are entirely different from those of the Columbia, not a single species being common to both streams. The fishes of the Missouri river are very different from the Ohio, many of the larger species, as catfishes, buffalo fishes, black basses, and some of the sun fishes are common to both rivers. The difference between the fishes of these two rivers is chiefly in the smaller kinds, which do not migrate to any great extent, and is greater as you go toward their sources, or confine yourself to their smaller tributaries.

There are many reasons why the fishes of one region are not the same as those we find in another. Some of these reasons we may learn by making a careful study of the fishes of each region, and their environment. In addition we must learn all we can about the past history of the country, finding which streams were formed first, and how they became inhabited from the old ancient fish faunas of our earlier geological periods. If you visit streams in the Alleghanies, the Ozarks and the Black Hills you will find them much alike. All have clear, cool water, flowing over sand or gravel. The black bass, speckled trout, channel cat, and the eastern pickerel will live quite as well in streams of each locality. If you spend a day at each place collecting fishes all your catch will not be the same species. In the Alleghany region you will obtain about forty species, and a like number in the Ozarks. Of these quite one-fourth, or one-fifth, will be the same species, and the others closely related. A large portion will consist of sunfishes and very small, perch-like fishes, which are called darters. These are spiny-rayed fishes; that is, nearly all of the fins are made partly of strong, sharp spines, such as you find on the back of sunfishes, black bass and the like. In the streams of the Black Hills you will not find more than fifteen species, and not more than one or two, if any, will be the same as in either of the other two catches. There are none of the spiny-rayed fishes in the Black Hills, and no trout, though the streams seem in every way well suited for them. The fishes of the Black Hills consist of two catfishes, four suckers, eight minnows, and one member of the cod family. Why are there no spiny-rayed fishes? If you examine a map you will find that the Black Hills is an isolated region, about seventy-five by one hundred miles in extent. It is covered with heavy pine forests and drained by a dozen or more good-sized creeks, which find, through the north and south forks of the Cheyenne, an outlet into the Missouri river. Surrounding the Black Hills is a broad plain one hundred or two hundred miles in width. It has no forests, and only a scant vegetation. Its streams are alkali and contain much solid matter in suspension. None of these streams flow over rocky or gravelly beds. Like all the streams of the great plains they are overloaded with sediment. All the streams can do with this sediment is to deposit it in places during falling or low water, and in time of freshets, pick it up, shift it about and redeposit it farther down the stream. Such streams are like the Platte, narrow and deep in a few places, but mostly wide and shallow, with a bottom of quicksand. The streams of the plains have in them but few species of fishes; especially is this true of the upper Missouri, and these are such species as we find in the Black Hills. It is thus evident that the fishes of this region migrated there, and only such fishes as were able or willing to live in the muddy, alkaline streams of the great plains could have ever reached the Black Hills. The minnows and suckers are ever preyed upon by sunfishes, bass and the like, and to escape them evidently sought retreat in the alkaline water, which was too much disliked by their enemies for them to follow. Once there and accustomed to such water they would migrate farther up stream until they reached the clear, cool streams of the Black Hills. If we compare the fishes of two rivers whose mouths are near each other, as the Ohio and the Missouri, those fishes found near the mouths will be the same species and the two river faunas will differ most as you go toward their sources. On the other hand, if you select two rivers whose sources are near each other, as the James and tributaries of the Ohio, then the fish faunas will differ most as you go towards their mouths. The same is true of the Missouri and the Columbia. In such cases it often happens that during high water some fishes are able to pass from the head waters of one river basin to the other, just as we see the trout from the Columbia at the present time colonizing the upper Yellowstone through the Two Ocean Pass. Near the head waters of many mountain streams there is usually a pass, which contains a strip of meadow land where the small streams from mountains unite, forming the sources of two great rivers flowing in opposite directions. This is the case both at the Two Ocean Pass, the source of the Missouri and the Columbia, and at the point where the Canadian Pacific Railroad crosses the divide, forming the source of the Frazier and Saskatchewan rivers.

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