CHAPTER VI.
CANADIAN BIRDS—SNOW SPARROW—ROBIN RED-BREAST—CANADIAN FLOWERS— AMERICAN PORCUPINE.
"Spring is coming, nurse! Spring is coming at last!" exclaimed the Governor's little daughter, joyfully. "The snow is going away at last. I am tired of the white snow, it makes my eyes ache. I want to see the brown earth, and the grass, and the green moss, and the pretty flowers again."
"It will be some days before this deep covering of snow is gone. The streets are still slippery with ice, which it will take some time, my lady, to soften."
"But, nurse, the sun shines, and there are little streams of water running along the streets in every direction; see, the snow is gone from under the bushes and trees in the garden. I saw some dear little birds flying about, and I watched them perching on the dry stalks of the tall rough weeds, and they appeared to be picking seeds out of the husks. Can you tell me what birds they were?"
"I saw the flock of birds you mean, Lady Mary; they are the common snow-sparrows; [Footnote: Fringilla nivalis.] almost our earliest visitants; for they may be seen in April, mingled with the brown song-sparrow, [Footnote: Fringilla melodia.] flitting about the garden fences, or picking the stalks of the tall mullein and amaranths, to find the seeds that have not been shaken out by the autumn winds; and possibly they also find insects cradled in the husks of the old seed-vessels. These snow-sparrows are very hardy, and though some migrate to the States in the beginning of winter, a few stay in the Upper Province, and others come back to us before the snow is all gone."
"They are very pretty, neat-looking birds, nurse; dark slate colour, with white breasts."
"When I was a little girl, I used to call them my Quaker-birds, they looked so neat and prim. In the summer you may find their nests in the brush-heaps near the edge of the forest; they sing a soft, low song."
"Nurse, I heard a bird singing yesterday, when I was in the garden; a little plain brown bird, nurse."
"It was a song-sparrow, Lady Mary. This cheerful little bird comes with the snow-birds, often before the robin."
"Oh, nurse, the robin! I wish you would show me a darling robin redbreast. I did not know they lived in Canada."
"The bird that we call the robin in this country, my dear, is not like the little redbreast you have seen at home; our robin is twice as large; though in shape resembling the European robin; I believe it is really a kind of thrush. It migrates in the fall, and returns to us early in the spring."
"What is migrating, nurse; is it the same as emigrating?"
"Yes, Lady Mary, for when a person leaves his native country, and goes to live in another country, he is said to emigrate. This is the reason why the English, Scotch, and Irish families who come to live in Canada are called Emigrants."
"What colour are the Canadian robins, nurse?"
"The head is blackish, the back lead colour, and the breast is pale orange; not so bright a red, however, as the real robin."
"Have you ever seen their nests, nurse?"
"Yes, my dear, many of them. It is not a pretty nest; it is large, and coarsely put together, of old dried grass, roots, and dead leaves, plastered inside with clay, mixed with bits of straw, so as to form a sort of mortar. You know, Lady Mary, that the blackbird and thrush build nests, and plaster them in this way."
The little lady nodded her head in assent. "Nurse, I once saw a robin's nest when I was in England; it was in the side of a mossy ditch, with primroses growing close beside it; it was made of green moss, and lined with white wool and hair; it was a pretty nest, with nice eggs in it, much better than your Canadian robin's nest."
"Our robins build in upturned roots, in the corners of rail fences, and in the young pear-trees and apple-trees in the orchard. The eggs are a greenish blue. The robin sings a full, clear song; indeed he is our best songster. We have so few singing-birds, that we prize those that do sing very much."
"Does the Canadian robin come into the house in winter, and pick up the crumbs, as the dear little redbreasts do at home?"
"No, Lady Mary, they are able to find plenty of food abroad, when they return to us; but they hop about the houses and gardens pretty freely. In the fall, before they go away, they may be seen in great numbers, running about the old pastures, picking up worms and seeds."
"Do people see the birds flying away together, nurse?"
"Not often, my dear, for most birds congregate together in small flocks and depart unnoticed; many go away at night, when we are sleeping; and some fly very high on cloudy days, so that they are not distinctly seen against the dull grey sky. The water birds, such as geese, swans, and ducks, take their flight in large bodies. They are heard making a continual noise in the air, and may be seen grouped in long lines, or in the form of the letter V lying on its side, (<), the point generally directed southward or westward, the strongest and oldest birds acting as leaders: when tired, these aquatic generals fall backward into the main body, and are replaced by others."
Lady Mary was much surprised at the order and sagacity displayed by wild fowl in their flight; and Mrs. Frazer told her that some other time she would tell her some more facts respecting their migration to other countries.
"Nurse, will you tell me something about birds' nests, and what they make them of?"
"Birds that live chiefly in the depths of the forest, or in solitary places, far away from the haunts of men, build their nests of ruder materials, and with less care in the manner of putting them together; dried grass, roots, and a little moss, seem to be the materials they make use of. It has been noticed by many persons, my dear, that those birds that live near towns and villages and cleared farms, soon learn to make better sorts of nests, and to weave into them soft and comfortable things, such as silk, wool, cotton, and hair."
"That is very strange, nurse."
"It is so, Lady Mary; but the same thing may also be seen among human beings. The savage nations are contented with rude dwellings made of sticks and cane, covered with skins of beasts, bark, or reeds; but when they once unite together in a more social state, and live in villages and towns, a desire for improvement takes place; the tent of skins, or the rude shanty, is exchanged for a hut of better shape; and this in time gives place to houses and furniture of more useful and ornamental kinds."
"Nurse, I heard mamma say, that the Britons who lived in England were once savages, and lived in caves, huts, and thick woods; that they dressed in skins, and painted their bodies like the Indians."
"When you read the history of England, you will see that such was the case," said Mrs. Frazer.
"Nurse, perhaps the little birds like to see the flowers, and the sunshine, and the blue sky, and men's houses. I will make my garden very pretty this spring, and plant some nice flowers to please the dear little birds."
Many persons would have thought such remarks very foolish in our little lady, but Mrs. Frazer, who was a good and wise woman, did not laugh at the little girl; for she thought it was a lovely thing to see her wish to give happiness to the least of God's creatures, for it was imitating His own goodness and mercy, which delight in the enjoyment of the things which He has called into existence.
"Please, Mrs. Frazer, will you tell me which flowers will be first in bloom?"
"The very first is a plant that comes up without leaves."
"Nurse, that is the Christmas-rose; [Footnote: Winter Aconite.] I have seen it in the old country."
"No, Lady Mary, it is the colt's-foot; [Footnote: Tussilago Farfara.] it is a common looking, coarse, yellow-blossomed flower; it is the first that blooms after the snow; then comes the pretty snow-flower or hepatica. Its pretty tufts of white, pink, or blue starry flowers, may be seen on the open clearing, or beneath the shade of the half-cleared woods, or upturned roots and sunny banks. Like the English daisy, it grows everywhere, and the sight of its bright starry blossoms delights every eye."
"The next flower that comes in is the dog's-tooth-violet." [Footnote:
Erythronium.]
"What a droll name!" exclaimed Lady Mary, laughing.
"I suppose it is called so from the sharpness of the flower-leaves (petals), my lady, but it is a beautiful yellow lily; the leaves are also pretty; they are veined or clouded with milky white or dusky purple. The plant has a bulbous root, and in the month of April sends up its single, nodding, yellow-spotted flowers; they grow in large beds, where the ground is black, moist and rich, near creeks on the edge of the forest."
"Do you know any other pretty flowers, nurse?"
"Yes, my lady, there are a great many that bloom in April and May; white violets, and blue, and yellow, of many kinds; and then there is the spring beauty, [Footnote: Claytonia.] a delicate little flower with pink striped bells, and the everlasting flower, [Footnote: Graphalium.] and saxifrage, and the white and dark red lily, that the Yankees call 'white and red death.' [Footnote: Trillium, or Wake Robin.] These have three green leaves about the middle of the stalk, and the flower is composed of three pure white or deep red leaves—petals my father used to call them; for my father, Lady Mary, was a botanist, and knew the names of all the flowers, and I learned them from him.
"The most curious is the mocassin flower. The early one is bright golden yellow, and has a bag or sack which is curiously spotted with ruby red, and its petals are twisted like horns. There is a hard thick piece that lies down just above the sack or mocassin part; and if you lift this up, you see a pair of round dark spots like eyes, and the Indians say it is like the face of a hound, with the nose and black eyes plain to be seen; two of the shorter curled brown petals look like flapped ears, one on each side of the face.
"There is a more beautiful sort, purple and white, which blooms in
August; the plant is taller, and bears large lovely flowers."
"And has it a funny face and ears too, nurse?"
"Yes, my dear, but the face is more like an ape's; it is even more distinct than in the yellow mocassin. When my brother and I were children, we used to fold back the petals and call them baby flowers; the sack, we thought, looked like a baby's white frock."
Lady Mary was much amused at this notion.
"There are a great number of very beautiful and also very curious flowers growing in the forest," said Mrs. Frazer; "some of them are used in medicine, and some by the Indians for dyes, with which they stain the baskets and porcupine quills. One of our earliest flowers is called the blood-root; [Footnote: Sanguivaria.] it comes up a delicate white folded bud, within a vine-shaped leaf, which is veined on the under side with orange yellow. If the stem or the root of this plant be broken, a scarlet juice drops out very fast—it is with this the squaws dye red and orange colours."
"I am glad to hear this, nurse; now I can tell my dear mamma what the baskets and quills are dyed with."
"The flower is very pretty, like a white crocus, only not so large. You saw some crocuses in the conservatory the other day, I think, my dear lady."
"Oh, yes, yellow ones, and purple too, in a funny china thing with holes in its back, and the flowers came up through the holes. The gardener said it was a porcupine."
"Please, nurse, tell me of what colours real porcupine quills are?"
"They are white and greyish-brown."
Then Lady Mary brought a print and showed it to her nurse, saying,
"Nurse, is the porcupine like this picture?"
"The American porcupine, my dear, is not so large as this species; its spines are smaller and weaker. It resembles the common hedgehog more nearly. It is an innocent animal, feeding mostly on roots [Footnote: There is a plant of the lily tribe, upon the roots of which the porcupine feeds, as well as on wild bulbs and berries, and the bark of the black spruce and larch. It will also eat apples and Indian corn.] and small fruits; it burrows in dry stony hillocks, and passes the cold weather in sleep. It goes abroad chiefly during the night. The spines of the Canadian porcupine are much weaker than those of the African species. The Indians trap these creatures and eat their flesh. They bake them in their skins in native ovens,—holes made in the earth, lined with stones, which they make very hot, covering them over with embers."
Mrs. Frazer had told Lady Mary all she knew about the porcupine, when
Campbell, the footman, came to say that her papa wanted to see her.