37248.fb2 Aboriginal America - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 6

Aboriginal America - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 6

Chapter 4. Remarkable Animals

The Beaver

One of the most remarkable of the animals found in America is the beaver. Species nearly resembling the American beaver formerly existed in the old world, but they have long been nearly or quite extinct. The class of animals to which the beaver belongs is common all over the world, namely, the class of Rodentia, which means gnawing animals. The beaver is the greatest gnawer of them all.

The Beaver's Teeth

His cutting teeth are broad and flat, and are brought to so sharp and hard an edge that the Indians were accustomed to set them in handles and use them for cutting instruments before they obtained iron and steel from the Europeans. It is said that by means of these teeth the beavers can cut off a stem in the woods as big as a walking stick at a single bite. By more continued efforts they can fell trees of very considerable size, not greater, however, than eight or ten inches in diameter, though one trapper in the service of a fur

The Beavers at Work

company says he has seen trunks eighteen inches in diameter cut through by them.

Fame of the Beaver

The beaver has acquired a very extensive fame among mankind, the foundation of which is two-fold. First, the exceeding softness and richness of his fur, which made his skin very valuable as clothing to the native tribes before Europeans came to the country, and which have since caused it to be still more highly valued by civilized nations all over the world; and secondly, his distinguished reputation as a builder. Both these characters of the animal result from the same cause, namely this, that he is intended to live in a very cold climate, that is, a climate which is very cold for half the year, and to get his living from the roots of plants growing under water, which, during the cold season, is covered with ice from one to three feet thick. To meet these exigencies he is provided with an extremely thick and soft fur to protect him in his winter excursions upon the land, and with certain very remarkable building instincts, by which he is enabled at all times, however cold the weather and however thick the ice, to procure access to the water.

His System of Building

The first object of the beaver in his engineering operations, is to keep the water deep in the stream that he inhabits, in order to prevent its freezing to the bottom. To effect this he forms a company, and the whole band proceed to build a dam. They gnaw down trees and bushes and drag them into the stream at the place which they have chosen for the dam, and pack them together in a close and impenetrable mass ten or twelve feet wide at the bottom, and diminishing gradually to the top. As they proceed they fill up all the interstices of the work with stones, gravel, mud, turf, roots, and everything else that they can bring. Of course a great deal of their work is washed away by the current while they are building, but by means of their indomitable perseverance, they finally succeed, and a massive and permanent obstruction to the stream is created. In process of time the trunks and stems of trees which they have introduced into their work decay, and the whole settles and consolidates into a permanent bank, which endures sometimes for centuries. Of course, so long as the pond is occupied the dam needs constant watching and frequent repairs, but this work the company always attend to in the most prompt and systematic manner.

In laying the materials of which the dam is composed the beavers go continually to and fro over the work, trampling down the soft substances with their paws, and patting them with their broad flat tails. This patting motion of their tails, which they make instinctly when they walk about upon the ground, gave rise to the story that the beaver uses his tail as a trowel. This, though it is not literally and exactly true, is, after all, not far from the truth, for the effect of the patting is analogous to that produced by the trowel of the mason in laying stones in mortar.

The House

Besides the dam, the beaver builds what may be called houses on the bank, where he can live during the winter sheltered from the cold, and protected from the wolves and similar wild animals that would otherwise prey upon him. These houses are built of logs of wood formed from the trunks of trees, which the beavers gnaw down in the adjoining forests, and then cut to proper lengths for their purpose. They dig in the ground to get good foundations, and then build up walls four or five feet high, much in the same way as they construct the dams. They then lay other trunks of trees across from one wall to the other, and cover the roof thus formed with stones, bushes, moss, mud, and other similar materials, and smooth the whole over at last with their paws and their tail, so as to make a sort of mound of their work, with a hollow in the center. The whole structure is so solid, and all its parts so closely compacted together, that the wolverines and wild cats cannot get in. It is very difficult even for men to break through such a sold mass.

From these habitations subterranean passages run in various directions - some opening into the pond under the ice, so as to afford the inhabitants free access and egress to the water at all times, and others lead to holes and caverns which the animals make as places of retreat from their enemies when they are alarmed, and perhaps for warmth in times of extreme cold.

Working Hours

It is a very curious circumstance that the beavers do all their work in the night, and thus no person can watch them at their operations except at a great disadvantage. In the day time they keep very quiet. Their motive, probably, in thus arranging their time, as far as action prompted by such animal instincts may be said to have a motive, is doubtless to avoid attracting the attention of their enemies.

The beavers were once very numerous throughout the whole northern portion of the territory now occupied by the United States. In all the settled parts of the country, however, they have nearly or entirely disappeared; and so valuable are their skins, and so closely do the hunters and trappers follow up the work of taking them, that it will not be many years, if the present state of things continues, before the whole race will be completely exterminated.

Other Fur-Bearing Animals

Besides the beaver, there are a great many other fur-bearing animals, such as the mink, the otter, the sable, and others that live on the banks of ponds and streams in America, and, like the beaver, seek their principal food in the water. There are none of them, however, that build either dams or habitations. Perhaps this is because they are smaller, and can more easily find space enough under the ice for their fishing and foraging excursions, without resorting to artificial means to keep up the water, and can also more easily find or make holes in the ground sufficient to furnish them a safe retreat from the cold, and a refuge from the hostility of their enemies.

These animals all produce fine and valuable furs, and are caught every winter by the trappers and hunters in great numbers, especially in that wide region of cold and desolate country which extends northward from the American frontier toward the pole, and which would be almost valueless to men, except for these productions.

Curious Phenomenon

There is one thing very curious about this class of animals that get their living in a great measure under water, and are consequently obliged to be often submerged, even in the coldest winter weather, and that is, that their fur becomes very little wet by such immersion. A dog, after plunging into a river, comes out wet to the skin, but the fur of a beaver or a mink, on account probably of some oleaginous substance with which it is dressed, does not allow the water to penetrate, so that, after swimming across a stream, or burrowing among roots at the bottom of a pond, the animal seeks the bank again, and comes out with only the outer surface wet, the skin beneath being as dry as when he went in. Thus, when swimming in the coldest water he is never cold.

The Buffalo

The buffalo, or bison, is a sort of wild bull, with a monstrous shaggy head and ferocious aspect. They are gregarious animals, that is, they live and feed together in immense herds. Almost all animals that feed on grass and herbage are gregarious, while beasts of prey are generally solitary in their habits. It is necessary for them to be so, for in order to succeed in their hunting, they must prowl about alone, or watch in ambush, patiently and in silence, for their prey. There are some exceptions, as in the case of wolves, for example, which usually hunt together in packs. There is a reason for this exception, too, for the wolves live generally by killing and devouring animals larger than themselves. and so are obliged to combine their strength in order to overpower their prey.

The buffalos are gregarious by habit in order that they may the better defend themselves from their enemies; and so abundant is the food furnished for them by the luxuriant grass of the prairies, and so boundless is the extent of the plains over which they roam, that the herds increase to an almost incredible extent. Travelers sometimes find the whole region black with them in every direction as far as they can see. In one case that is described, the country was covered with a herd, or an aggregation of herds, so vast that the party journeying were six days in passing through them. The aspect which they presented with five, ten, and sometimes twenty thousand in sight at a time, spreading in every direction over the plains, some bellowing, some fighting, others advancing defiantly toward their supposed foes, and tearing up the soil with their hoofs and horns - the earth trembling under their tramp, and the air filled with a prolonged and portentous murmur, presented to the view of the traveler a really appalling spectacle. the bellowing of a large herd is sometimes heard at a distance of two miles!

Annual Migration

Of course the frosts and snows coming down from the Arctic regions in winter bind up and cover large tracts of land which in summer are clothed with luxuriant herbage. The grazing animals, accordingly, move southward to great distances as the season changes. These migrations, in respect to the numbers and the sold mass of the moving columns, surpass in grandeur all other spectacles that the animal kingdom affords.

Swimming the Streams

The country being intersected by rivers and streams in every part, as shown by the map, would seem to interpose great difficulties in the way of the passage of the animals to and fro. The difficulties are great, but they are not insurmountable. The herd, on approaching a river, if it is fordable, descend the bank in a massive column, and wade or swim across. If the descent of the bank is not already gradual, it soon becomes so by the trampling of so many heavy hoofs, the most daring, of course, impelled partly by their courage and partly by the pressure from behind, going down first and breaking the way.

If there are calves in the herd, and the bank remains so steep that they dare not go down, their mothers always wait with them upon the margin, in great apparent distress, and make every effort to encourage them to go down. Sometimes it is said that the calves contrive to get upon the backs of the cows, and are conveyed in that way across the stream.

It not unfrequently happens that the landing proves not to be good when the animals arrive on the further side, so that instead of a hard beach by which to ascend to the level of the plain, they find themselves sinking into quicksands or mire. The scene which is witnessed in a case like this presents sometimes, it is said, an aspect almost awful. The older and stronger beasts are perhaps able, after long-continued and desperate struggles, in which they trample down and climb over the others in their excitement and terror, to regain their footing and clamber up the bank; but often many are unable to extricate themselves, and perish miserably - their bodies being borne away by the current down the stream.

Crossing on the Ice

The case is still worse sometimes when the river is frozen, and the herd is consequently compelled to cross upon the ice. The animals have no means of judging of the strength of the ice except by taking the opinion of the leaders, who go down cautiously, and step in a timid, hesitating manner upon the margin of it, and then it if gives no sign of weakness under the weight of a single tread, they conclude it to be strong and proceed. But it may be strong enough to bear one, while far too weak to sustain the weight of a hundred.

Still the whole herd follow on, and perhaps when the head of the column has advance toward the middle of the stream, some cracking sound or other token of weakness gives the alarm. The leaders stop, the others press on, the ice becomes immensely overloaded, and presently goes down with a great crash, carrying hundreds into the water. Then ensues a scene of struggling and commotion and terror impossible to describe. Animals of every age and size are writhing and plunging in the water, vainly trying to climb up upon cakes of ice, or to force their way through the floating fragments to the shore - bellowing all the time with terror. Some at last gain the bank, but others are swept away in great numbers beneath the unbroken ice below and drowned.

Trails

In making their journeys the buffalos move in columns, those behind keeping in the track of those before, and in this way they make trails which soon become well worn; and being pretty wide, on account of the columns being formed with several animals abreast, they look like wagon roads. These roads extend, in some places, for hundreds of miles across the country. When they are once made they followed year after year by successive herds. In this respect the habits of the buffalo correspond with those of domestic cows in the pastures of New England, who lay out paths on the hill sides and in the woods, and continue to use them, when they are once worn, for many years.

Use of the Buffalo

The buffalo, as may readily be supposed, was a great resource to the Indians. His flesh furnished him with an abundant supply of excellent food. His skin served for cloth , and, when cut into thongs, for cords. His horns were made into vessels and implements of various kinds. Some tribes also made boats of his hide by stretching the hide, when green, over a frame made of a suitable form for the purpose intended. This, of course, was a very clumsy sort of craft, but being made without any seam, was perfectly water-tight and very serviceable.

The Buffalo-Skin Boat

The buffalo has many enemies, but the greatest of all is civilized man. So long as the vast herds were attacked only by bears, packs of wolves, and Indians armed simply with spears and arrows, they were able to hold their ground. The bulls of the herd, with their prodigious strength, and the formidable weapons with which natures has provided them in their horns, would maintain terrible conflicts with any of these foes, and would often come off victorious from the fight. but when the white man came, mounted upon a horse and armed with a rifle, no choice was left to him but to abandon the field; and in proportion as the tide of emigration moves onward toward the west, the buffalo retires before it, and will probably in time entirely disappear.

The frontiers, however, of his old dominion are drawn in very slowly and reluctantly, so that even the steamboat sometimes overtakes him. Cases have occurred in which steamboats, in feeling g their way up some of the western branches of the Mississippi and Missouri, have come upon a herd of buffalos crossing the stream, and the poor beasts, in the midst of their amazement at the spectacle, have been shot by the rifles of the passengers from the deck.

There is one case mentioned in which a steamboat passed so near a buffalo swimming in the water that a passenger on board, who had learned the use of the lasso in South America, threw a rope, with a slip noose at the end, through the air and caught him by the horns. Note: See frontispiece The crew then pulled the poor beast alongside of the steamer, and, getting slings under him, hoisted him on board and butchered him for his beef.

The Turkey

The turkey is one of the most valuable gifts made by the new world to the old. Until after the discovery of America no such animals was ever known in Europe, Asia, or Africa, though the forests and prairies of America were filled everywhere with flocks of these birds. The turkeys were accustomed to migrate to and fro from north to south, according as the food they lived upon was in season. In these journeys they marched on foot as long as they could keep the ground, only using their wings when there was a river to cross, or some other obstacle to be surmounted.

When they came to a river they used to pause long upon its bank before venturing to attempt the passage. They sometimes remained so for two or three days, during which time the old males would walk to and fro, strutting and gobbling with the greatest self importance, and with the air of being engaged in a deliberation of the utmost consequence to all the world. At length, as it seemed, they would succeed in raising their courage to the proper point, and they would proceed to climb up to the topmost branches of the tallest trees growing near the river. There they would select their positions, and after a great deal more gobbling and strutting and innumerable false starts, they would commence their flight. The oldest and strongest birds would succeed in flying across the river before coming down to the ground, but the younger and feebler ones, especially if the river was wide, would fall into the water at a greater or less distance from the bank.

Then would follow a scene of floundering, scrambling and swimming, astonishing to behold, the result of which would be that the greater proportion of the flock would at last reach the land, though may of them would be carried by the force of the current far down the stream.

The value of the flesh of the turkey for food was soon made known to Europeans, and the bird is now domesticated, and has become very abundant, in almost every part of the world.

The Alligator

An alligator is an immense reptile of the lizard kind, which haunts the inlets, rivers, swamps and lagoons of the southern States in great numbers. When full grown it is a very terrible animal, on account of its great size and strength. It is sometimes fifteen or twenty feet long. it crawls slowly on the land, but it can move through the water with great speed. Its body is covered with horny scales, which form a coat of mail that is proof against a musket ball. It is only near the head and shoulders that the skin can be penetrated by even a rifle bullet.

Of course the alligator is a very formidable animal, the more so from his having an immense mouth, which is armed with rows of teeth of terrible aspect. Generally, however, he is pretty quiet in his disposition, and is often seen lying harmless, basking in the sun, on the shores of his lagoon, or crawling slowly along through the canes and flags that grow out of the slime. But sometimes, for example at certain seasons of the year, or when he is hungry, or has been in any way irritated or disturbed, he is very ferocious, and in such a case he becomes a dangerous as well as an ugly enemy.

The alligator, like most other reptiles, is very prolific. Indeed, one great function that the animal seems destined to fulfill in the economy of nature is that of producing eggs and rearing young, to be consumed as food by birds of prey. Only a small portion of its progeny survives the dangers which thus beset the period of their infancy.

The mothers make their nests in quite an artificial manner. They are built upon the ground, on the banks of lazy streams, or in the cane-brakes or marshes, and are of the form of great shallow cups, three or four feet in diameter. They are built of mud and grass, and a great many are usually constructed together, so as to form quite a village.

In these nests the northern alligator lays a great number of eggs, which she packs in mud, in several successive layers, one above the other, in the most singular manner. First she covers the floor of her nest with a sort of mortar which she spreads over it, made of mud and slime, and upon this lays one layer of eggs. This layer, when complete, she covers with another stratum of mortar, and over this lays another tier of eggs. The eggs have hard shells, and are somewhat larger than hen's eggs, and the monster lays so many of them as to build up her nest sometimes four or five feet high with these alternate layers.

When this work is finished the eggs are left to be hatched by the warmth of the sun, through the mother remains by them to guard them from the attacks of the pilferers that are always at hand in great numbers to steal and devour them. It has been said that in thus guarding these deposits the alligators in some sense make common cause, so that when one of the mothers has gone away to seek food, the others who remain watch over and protect her nest, and it is with some instinctive idea of this advantage that they adopt the plan of building their nests together.

There are sometimes not less than a hundred and fifty or two hundred eggs in a single nest. Of these, however, but a portion are hatched, and still fewer of the young arrive at maturity. The young that are hatched are watched and defended by their mothers with great care, but they are exceedingly tender and helpless, and great numbers of them are seized and devoured by beasts and birds of prey.

The greatest enemy of the alligator, however, is man. In gradually advancing the settlement of the countries in which they live, he intrudes more and more upon their haunts, and as their size is too great to allow them, like other reptiles, to secrete themselves from their pursuers, their numbers are all the time continually diminishing, and it is not improbable that before many years they may entirely disappear. The crocodile of the Nile is an animal of the same general character with the alligator, but is of an altogether different species.

The Eagle

America is celebrated for its eagles. Indeed, one of the species, the bald eagle, so called, has been selected as the emblem of the national power. The eagles are all birds of prey, and they are remarkable for their size and the strength of their pinions. They seek their habitations on the summit of the various mountain ranges and on lofty cliffs overhanging the sea. From these elevated positions they survey vast regions of the air and watch for their prey. For this purpose they are endowed with powers of vision of almost incredible acuteness.

The eagle has always been held in high estimation by the American Indians, and his plumage has been prized more than that of any other bird for the dress and the decorations of warriors. This high estimation is derived partly from the warlike courage and propensities of the bird itself, and partly probably from the difficulty of taking him. Thus, eagles' feathers attached to a head-dress of a native chief, or ornamenting the shaft of a spear, were not only emblems of courage and strength proper to signalize the martial spirit of the wearer as a warrior, but they were also trophies of the daring and skill which he displayed as a huntsman, in scaling the lofty heights where alone they were to be procured.

The eagle is very long-lived. Some specimens have been known to live from eighty to a hundred years.

cochineal

The forests of America produce a great many different woods which have been used extensively in dyeing, and for other similar purposes in the arts, but the most important pigment that has been derived from the productions of this country is cochineal.

The cochineal is an insect. It is of the form of a little bug. It is a native of Mexico. It feeds upon certain species of cactus. Immense numbers of these plants are cultivated in Mexico and Peru, for the sake of the insects that feed upon them. The work of collecting these insects, which is very slow and tedious, is performed by women, who go about among the cactus plants and brush the bugs off into a basket with a little brush made of the tail of a squirrel, or of some other animal.

The insects, when collected, are killed by being thrown into boiling water, and then are carefully dried by being placed in ovens, or exposed to the sun. The article is then ready for market.

The cochineal insect produces a beautiful crimson dye, though a scarlet color can be obtained from it by a certain mode of using it. It is an article of very great value. Several millions of dollars' worth are annually exported from South America, and it is so precious that it is regarded in the markets of the world almost in the light of gold. Indeed it sometimes fulfills the functions of gold by being used for remittances and for making payments.

The Rattlesnake and Humming Bird

There are two other animals that remain to be mentioned among those that are peculiar to America - animals that, however dissimilar in other respects, are alike in this, namely, that each is marked by a very striking peculiarity of the same general kind, while nothing at all approaching to either exists in any other part of the known world. These two animals are the rattlesnake and the humming-bird. The peculiarity which gives them special distinction is a power of producing a sound by the motion of a part of their bodies - the humming bird by its wings and the rattlesnake by its tail.

The Rattle

The tail of the rattle snake is provided with several joints, formed of a bony substance, and put together in a loose manner, so that when shaken they produce a rattling sound. Whether the design of nature in giving the snake this instrument is to enable it to warn other animals and men of the danger of coming too near, or for some other purpose, we can only conjecture.

There is a mystery, too, in respect to its venom. Some have supposed that this venom was given to it as a means of killing its prey before devouring it. Other serpents are endowed with the power of killing their prey by the prodigious force which they can exercise in coiling round the limbs of the animal they have seized, breaking its bones in the terrible gripe which they give it, and thus putting a sudden and total stop to all the vital operations. All serpents seem to require some extraordinary means of killing their prey, for they are formed to live upon animals much larger than themselves, and which they could not kill by any ordinary means.

There is a considerable number of species of serpents with rattling tails in America, but it is singular that there are none of any kind in the old world. The whole tribe of rattlesnakes is an American production altogether.

The Rattlesnake more Sinned Against Than Sinning

Notwithstanding the hatred with which the rattlesnake is regarded and the opprobrium which is cast upon him by man, he seems, after all, to be more sinned against than sinning, for he really is a very quiet and peaceable beast, that has no quarrel with man, and never injures him unless he honestly supposes that he is called to do it in self-defense. If he sees a man coming toward him, he crawls quietly away, if a way of retreat is open to him, If not, and if his enemy still approaches with an aggressive air, he feels himself justified in defending himself by the only means with which nature has provided him. He winds himself up into a spiral coil, with his head projecting from the center of it, and as soon as his enemy comes near, he darts forward and upward, and strikes his fang into his enemy's flesh, at a point as high from the ground as he can attain.

He Acts Always on the Defensive

He, however, seldom or never attacks man of his own accord, but warns him away by sounding his rattle when he sees him coming inadvertently near. It results from this his peaceable disposition that, though the prairies in the western country, and the forests at the south, are full of rattlesnakes, numbering probably millions upon millions, and the slaves upon the plantations, and the farmers and emigrants and railway laborers in the woods, are continually encountering them, it is very rare that lives are lost from their venom. How great must be the forbearance, we might almost say the generosity exercised by the reptile, to lead to such a result as this!

This generosity, however, if generosity it be, seems to be very little appreciated by man. Man everywhere attacks and kills every rattlesnake that he sees. He strikes him on the neck with a club if he wishes to kill him at a blow; and if, on the other hand, which is more frequently the case, he wishes to tease and torment him for a while before putting him to death, or if he wishes to capture him, he comes with a forked stick, and sets the prongs of it into the ground, one on each side of the poor victim's neck. He then grasps his neck behind the stick with his hand and takes him up with impunity. It is even possible, while holding him thus, to extract his fang, or the little bag of poison at the root of it, and thus render him entirely harmless.

The Humming Bird

From the rattlesnake, one of the most repulsive of all animals to man, we turn with pleasure to the humming bird, an animal that likewise owes a part of his celebrity to a sound that he makes, though the instrument with which he makes it is a pair of wings instead of a tail. Whatever of mystery there may be about the rattling made by the reptile, there is none in respect to the humming noise made by the bird. The sound is due simply to the rapidity of the vibrations of the wings, and this is due to the smallness of the bird. For the smaller the bird and the smaller the wings, the more rapid must be the motion of them to sustain the weight of the body in the air.

Vibrations Producing Sound

Sound is produced by the vibration of any substance in contact with the air, by which vibrations are imparted to the air, and thus transmitted to the ear. If the vibrations are slow no audible sound is produced. Thus the motion of the pendulum of a clock, the wagging of the tail of a dog, the motion of the hand up and down in the air, as rapid as it is possible to make such a motion, produce no sound.

As we increase the rapidity of such vibrations, however, we at last come to a limit where a sound begins to be heard. This is about thirty-two beats in a second. The humming bird's wings, therefore, must move to and fro more than thirty-two beats in a second, and it is simply in consequence of the fact that his body and wings are so small that the rapidity of the motion of his wings comes within the limit above referred to, and sound is produced. The wings of a swallow make less than thirty-two pulsations in a second, and thus that bird moves through the air silently.

As the rapidity of the vibrations of any moving body increases the sound becomes higher in pitch. Thus the wings of a mosquito, moving much more rapidly than those of a humming bird, made a more acute sound. As the rapidity increase still more, we reach at last a point where sound is no longer produced. This limit varies with different ears, but with most persons it is at about eight thousand vibrations a second that sound ceases to be heard. This upper limit, however, is extremely vague.

The number of vibrations corresponding with the middle c of a musical instrument, according to the diapason recently established by the French government, if five hundred and twenty-two. That of a sound one octave below is half as great; of one an octave above is twice as great. Thus by finding the pitch of the sound made by the wings of a humming bird, by means of a piano forte or other instrument, the number of vibrations made by them in a second can be approximately ascertained.

The Humming Bird's Mode of Life

The humming bird is designed, like the bee, to feed on the sweet juices found in flowers. But being a bird, and thus, small as he is, too large and heavy to alight upon the flower and rest his weight upon it, he is provided with wings to poise himself in the air, and a long slender bill to serve as a pipe with which to draw out the juices from the innermost recesses of the largest corollas.

There are a great many different species of humming birds, all peculiar to America. None are found in any part of the old world. There is a difference in the form, and also in the plumage of the different species. In some of them the feathers, especially those of the neck and breast, are splendidly iridescent, glowing with all the colors of the richest gems. Nothing can exceed the beautiful effect of these colors when the bird is seen poised in the sun before the flower from which he is extracting the juices with his long and slender bill. At such a time his wings cannot be seen, so swift is their motion; or if a glimpse of them is obtained, they produce only the effect of a little quivering mist at his sides. He seems like a wingless bird poised motionless in mid air.

If at such a time anything occurs to alarm him or to attract his attention, he darts off through the air a little way, quick as a flash, then suddenly stopping and poising himself upon his wings, he rests as motionless as if he were standing upon the ground. Then, after contemplating for a moment the object that alarmed him, he shoots off again through the air, with a motion so quick that the eye can scarcely follow him - and is gone.

Sometimes artificial flowers are made of the feathers of the humming bird, especially those taken from the breast - the different colors being arranged to represent the different parts of the flower. Nothing can exceed the gorgeous beauty of these imitation.

Gentleness of Disposition

Humming birds are of a very gentle disposition, and they could be easily tamed were it not that they are of too delicate a constitution to bear confinement; and thus, whenever they are brought into the house and shut up in a cage or an aviary, they soon droop and die. While they are thus kept they must be fed with fresh flowers, or else with honey, thinned with a little water.

They build their nests upon shrubs or upon the stems of vines or other climbing plants, nor far from the ground, and the nests are so small that, when seen from a short distance, one of them might very easily be mistaken for a little tuft of moss, or a moss-covered knot upon the wood. There are two eggs only laid in the nest. They are white, and not much larger than peas.

These birds are very common in the West Indies and in all the tropical parts of America. A young English gentleman, who was about embarking for England, happened, just before he went on board his ship, to find a humming bird's nest with the mother sitting upon it, sitting. He approached very gently to the place. The bird watched him anxiously, but she was too intent upon her duty to her eggs to fly away. The gentleman carefully cut off the branch and carried, it, nest, bird, and all, on board the ship, intending to present his prize to a lady of his acquaintance on reaching his native land.

He fed the bird on home and water during the voyage. She became quite tame, and continued on the nest until the little birds were hatched, but before the end of the voyage she died. The little birds lived to reach the land. The gentleman presented them to the lady for whom the present was intended. One of them died very soon, but the other lived a month or two, and was so tame that he would put his bill to his mistress's lips and draw out honey and water from a little supply which she had provided for him there. It was to him just as if her lips had been the petal of a flower.