Citizen Bird Part 53

Under parts white, tinged in summer with buff on the breast and at all seasons mottled there with dusky.

Middle tail feathers blackish, the other ones plain gray with white edgings, but without any black cross-bars. Bill black; feet greenish-gray, with a small hind toe like other Sandpipers', but no sign of any web at the roots of the front toes.

A Citizen of North America, nesting far north, beyond the United States, and travelling in large flocks in the fall to the West Indies and South America.

A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners. It belongs to a family of game birds, but it is a shame to shoot such a mite of a bird for the morsel of meat its tiny body affords--hardly one mouthful.

There is a brother of the Least Sandpiper, hardly any bigger, and so much like it that you can hardly tell them apart, unless you notice that this one has two little webs between the roots of the front toes. This is the Semipalmated Sandpiper, for _semipalmated_ means "half-webbed,"

as its toes are. Both kinds are called "Peeps" by people who do not know the difference between them.

The Virginia Rail

Length nine and half inches, of which the long, slender, curved bill makes an inch and a half.

Upper parts mixed blackish and blown, growing brighter reddish-brown on the wings, a light line over the eye and a dark one through the eye.

Under parts mostly cinnamon color, but distinctly barred with black and white on the sides behind and under the tail and wings, the chin whitish.

Feet big and clumsy, with very long toes in front--about as long as the bill.

A Citizen of temperate North America, nesting in the Northern States and wintering in some of the Southern States.

A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, who does us no harm and not much good, though it is a sort of game bird whose flesh is palatable, and it may be shot in the fall. It is not neighborly and is seldom seen, as it lives only in the thickest reeds or herbage of marshy places, where it can run over the softest mud, or even floating plants, by means of its long spreading toes, which keep it from slumping in.

"To-morrow, when the tide begins to come in, we are going to fish for bluefis.h.!.+" interrupted Nat joyfully. "Olaf says they are beginning to run, and there are lots of crabs to catch up in the creek too--only I'm afraid that there won't be half time enough for everything."

"How can fish run when they have no legs?" objected Dodo, who had not quite finished writing her tables and did not like to be hurried. And then, too, she was a little lady who took things literally, and liked to have them exactly right.

CHAPTER x.x.x

DUCKS AND DRAKES

It was the last week of the children's stay at the sh.o.r.e before everything combined to make possible the sail to Gull Island. They had spent three glorious weeks, and were as ruddy brown as any of the little Indians who had once gathered wampum sh.e.l.ls from the same beach in the long ago. They were wiser also in many ways, for they had found out many things for themselves--which is the very best sort of wisdom. Now even Dodo could tell by the footprints on the sand whether a three-toed Plover or a four-toed Sandpiper had been pattering there.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hooded Merganser.]

When the right day came, without a sign of ugly squalls or of an equally unfortunate calm, Olaf borrowed a largo cat-boat, and after stowing away the lunch hamper, that was always a 'must be' for an all-day trip, the boat almost flew out of the little bay and up the sound before the breeze that came with the morning tide.

"There are some more of your white Crows, Nat," said the Doctor, as they headed straight out after getting on the right tack. "The island where we are going is one of their famous nesting places."

"Their wings are very different from Crows' wings," said Rap, as he watched them overhead, now winnowing the air with steady wing-beats, or circling on motionless pinions--now poising in one spot for a minute by merely flapping the wings, and then dropping gracefully to float on the water. "Gulls' wings bend out more at the tip and are smooth-edged; Crows' look flatter and are saw-edged."

"Are there any other birds besides Gulls that nest on the island, Uncle Roy?" asked Nat.

"Yes, the Terns or Sea Swallows that you have seen about the reef nest there also; and this island, as well as the mainland near by, is a favorite stopping-place for all the sh.o.r.e and water birds in their journeys,--from Sandpipers to great flocks of Sea Ducks."

"I should think it would be a long swim for Ducks," said Nat; "it is as much as fifteen miles from sh.o.r.e."

"They don't swim--they fly there," said Olaf.

"Can Ducks fly?" exclaimed Dodo in amazement. "I'm sure the white Ducks at the Farm can only waddle on the ground, or swim and spatter along the water when Wolf or Quick chases them for fun. And anyway their legs are very stiff and queer and grow very far back, as if their bodies were too heavy and going to fall down front, and they had to hold up their heads very high to keep going."

"Our tame Ducks are very fat and lazy, for they have lived in captivity for many generations; yet they could fly very well with a little practice. The Mallard, which is a wild River Duck and a swift enduring flyer, is the one which has been domesticated and for hundreds of years kept as a barnyard Duck."

"River Ducks?" questioned Rap; "then are there different kinds of Ducks for rivers and lakes, and for salt water?"

"There are indeed many kinds of Ducks," said the Doctor, "all of which have easy marks of identification in the beauty-spot on the wings, and many other points about the plumage, as well as the different shapes of their heads, bills, and feet. Though all Wild Ducks, and Geese too, belong to one general family, they are divided into separate groups like cousins, instead of living in one household like brothers.

"Almost all Wild Ducks nest in the northern tier of States, or altogether north of them; the hardier species stay with us as winter visitors, but the others only stop to feed, as they follow the rivers and coasts in their migrations.

"There was a beautiful Duck that had a nest last year in a tree up near the logging camp; its feathers were as bright as if they had been painted. That is the Wood Duck--one of the exceptions to the rule that Wild Ducks nest on the ground like tame ones. Another kind, the Black Duck, nests as usual on the ground, on a wooded island not far from the one to which we are sailing."

"Will you please tell us why Ducks have such waddling legs?" begged Nat.

"Because the best legs to swim with are not the easiest to walk with."

At that moment the wind died down. The sails flapped once or twice, and then hung loose; and the boat, instead of das.h.i.+ng along, began to drift lazily, with an uncomfortable rolling motion, as the swell, borne in from the ocean many miles away, crept under it.

"If the water does that much more, I shall soon be hungry," said Dodo, looking a trifle sad and pressing her hands together over her waist.

"I quite agree with you," said Olive; "I know from having had the same feeling before, that unless we eat some of these little salt biscuits, and talk about something interesting, in a very few minutes you and I will be sea-sick--which is the hungriest, emptiest sickness possible."

"I thought the feeling was a little more puffy than real hungriness,"

said Dodo, chewing her biscuit in great haste and having some trouble in swallowing it.

"May not we men have some too?" asked the Doctor, looking drolly at the boys, who were glancing longingly at the biscuits, but were too proud to confess their feelings. "Not that we feel ill--oh, no! Merely for company, you know.

"Now while you munch away, I will talk Duck to amuse you; eating and Duck talk go very well together, for the Duck is chiefly to be considered as food. You all know what a well-rounded, compact body a Duck has; do you remember having seen one carved, and how very hard it was to cut off its legs?"

"Yes, I do," said Nat. "Sometimes the Duck almost bounces off the dish, and then, father says things--at least, I mean, he says he wishes that people who go shooting and send him presents of Wild Ducks would send a carving map and a good sharp knife with them; but I never understood what he wanted the map for."

"To find the joints, my boy," laughed the Doctor, as if he had a sympathetic feeling for carvers who find themselves in front of a tough Duck or Goose, no matter how well they know where the joints ought to be found. "A Duck's legs are very short, and not only set far back on the body, but sunk into the skin quite up to the knees; so that the joints are very hard to find. This is planned to give the Duck more strength and ease in swimming, when the legs act like paddles. All Ducks' feet have three long toes in front and a short one behind, the front toes being loosely joined by two skin flaps which stretch between them when spread apart, making what we call web-feet."

"Something the way frogs' feet are?" asked Nat.

"Very much upon the same plan. Then Ducks have wide flat beaks of various shapes, with a sort of nail bent over like a hook at the end, and all along each side is a double row of little teeth, to help them take their food. Their stiff, pointed wings are quite strong enough to lift their heavy bodies off the ground or water into the air, and keep up an even flight, often more rapid than the swiftest express train."

"What do Wild Ducks eat?" asked Dodo, "seeds or bugs or fish?"

"They eat all those things and many others too, according to their various habits, which are as different as the expression of their faces or the color of their features. If you look at a case full of Wild Ducks in a museum, you will find that no two have the same-shaped head, or expression. Some look silly, some sly, while others seem either proud or inquisitive."

"How strange!" said Rap. "I never thought about Ducks' faces, except that they all looked foolish, with little pig-eyes and big beaks like shovels. And please, do they chew their food with the teeth you said they had?"

"Those are not true teeth, like ours, to chew with. You know a good many very different things are called teeth--those on a rake, for example, or a comb, or a cog-wheel. A Duck's teeth are h.o.r.n.y like the skin that covers its whole beak, and act like strainers. When a Duck dabbles in the water, as you have all seen tame ones do, the water that gets into its mouth runs out at the sides between the teeth, but whatever food there is in the mouthful of water gets caught in the teeth, and can then be swallowed."