But, seeing the wild ones unhappy and drooping, most boys will voluntarily let them go. There is no good word to be said for the practice of caging wild creatures merely for the entertainment their misery will afford an irresponsible and curious crowd. I am glad to know that those horrid whirling cages in which squirrels used to be shut have become less common.
In these days of hunting without guns, there is also a good deal of taming without cages. This is the real thing, and has everything in its favour. There are two sides to it. From the animal's side the tamed one has nothing to lose. He, and for his sake, all his fellows, receive protection, consideration, care. If he tells any secrets, his confidence is not betrayed to the enemy. He comes and goes at will and pays his debts by keeping true that balance which existed in nature before mankind upset it. From the human side taming wild things is a delightful though not an easy way to learn to be patient, persevering, and gentle. You simply have to practise these virtues or you will fail. Furthermore, the domestication of wild animals useful to man results in very great practical value. From the naturalist's point of view, this is a most fruitful method of discovering the true habits of the wild creatures, about which so much is yet to be learned.
Most efforts to tame full-grown animals result in complete failure. Taken when young, almost any of them can be tamed.
No one ought ever to have a pet of any kind unless he sees one thing clearly: Forcing his pet to become dependent upon his protection and care involves a real responsibility. When I consider the number of cases of neglected pets I am inclined to discourage children from keeping them. It is a very good method of developing responsibility, but, if the method fails, the innocent pet suffers. The uncaged pet has an advantage over the caged one in that he can, if neglected, return to the wild and shift for himself.
BIRDS
A great many famous people have made friends with our native birds. John Burroughs could depend on an audience of robins to perch on his knee. They would listen politely while he remonstrated with them for stealing his grapes, well assured that the next forkful of earth he turned would yield worms enough to repay them for waiting. It is not uncommon to see photographs of birds perching on the hands of children or grown people. One noted naturalist is pictured with a piece of bread in his mouth, out of which a bird is taking a bite. To really tame a full-grown bird is practically impossible. To gain its confidence is difficult. It means that the person has never in its presence made a motion sufficiently sudden to startle the timid creature nor lost his patience or self-control once during many trials. A bird is not tamed in an hour nor a day. A quick wave of the arm or a sharp noise is enough to undo all that has been accomplished in long, patient hours spent in establishing friendly relations. The photographs are records of triumphs.
Professor Hodge encourages the taming of young birds in the interest of increasing our valuable bird life. He says: "It is a rare lesson in gentleness to capture a young bird without frightening it, but, if successfully done, your bird is practically tame. If even a young bird is caught after a severe chase, it is likely to be days, weeks, and even months, before the effects of its fright can be obliterated. If they can be picked up without frightening them, they will often immediately perch on the finger and feed from the hand. I have tested this with young vireos, chipping sparrows, orioles, grackles, and repeatedly with young robins, which some even put down in their books as untamable. Think what a monster the open hand must seem to a bird!"
Those of you who have read Mrs. Stratton-Porter's story of Freckles will remember how he tamed the wild birds. They were residents of the great primeval woodland and had not learned yet from sad experience to hide from men. They swarmed about the gentle Irish lad because he had made himself a part of the forest. To them he was like some new kind of beneficent tree, yielding nuts for the nut-eaters, grain for the grain-eaters, and bits of suet or scraps of meat for all who came for it. He called them all, "Me chickens." Was there anything wonderful in this? Yes; so thought the Scotch woodsman with whom Freckles lived. And no, because anybody can do the same who will follow the same tactics. If you read on in the story, you will readily believe that his relations with the birds and the forest helped make Freckles the lovable boy and the fine, sweet-natured man he grew up to be.
How to do something toward domesticating wild birds in order to make the country a better place to live in is treated more fully in a later chapter.
Humming-birds are said to be entirely without fear if tamed when nestlings. They sometimes fall from the nest and are, of course, helpless so far as feeding themselves is concerned. They will take sweetened water from a spoon, but should not be expected to thrive on this diet alone. Their natural food while growing, and probably afterward, too, is largely insects. A supply of these should be given the young birds. They become very tame and perch on the hand and on the flowers in vases. They will visit your best hat, too, if it has flowers on it, and will even try to collect nectar from the flowers on wall-paper or curtains.