THE RAIDING HAWK.
The insect world has great power everywhere, and where birds and other insect-eating creatures are destroyed through ignorance there follows the destruction resulting from the ascendancy of these pests which appear, not in tens of thousands, but in millions. Twenty-one years ago any person who had ventured on such an assertion would have been laughed at, but it is now a well-known fact that some of the most renowned vineyards have been entirely ruined by the Phylloxera, an insect which can scarcely be seen by the naked eye.
In former times, when a great deal of uncultivated land covered the plain, in its natural state, the air rang with the song of birds. Woods, meadows, thickets and pools were thronged with the feathered songsters. In the course of time, however, things have greatly changed; in many districts the woods are thinned or grubbed up, the plough has torn up the meadows; every little scrap of thicket has been hewn down; whole forests are being cut down by degrees to supply the paper mills; and so the birds are losing their nesting places, and death and destruction lurk in waiting for them on their migrations. Devastating storms which overtake the immigrant flocks often destroy the feathered wanderers in great numbers. This, however, is the course of Nature, against which we are impotent.
After all the birds’ worst enemy is man, with his ignorance, or, still worse, his cupidity. He has plundered the nest and destroyed the brood; he grudges every grain of corn which the bird has richly deserved by its work throughout the year.
Steamers and railroads make it possible for birds, which are caught by millions, to be sent alive into the great cities as delicacies of the table. So, from year to year, they are becoming rarer.
So much the more are we bound,—for the good of heart and soul, as well as for the blessing of the land and its workers—to protect the useful birds as much as we conscientiously can so that they may increase in numbers.
Once, while on a journey to the Northern Ocean, I travelled the whole length of Denmark. Moor, bog and sandhills cover great stretches of land. Coarse heath grows over the sandhills. Poverty-stricken huts are scattered here and there in these districts, the tenants of which live by turf cutting. There is neither wood nor coal, so that the dried bog furnishes the sole fuel. A small spotted cow is usually seen tethered with a long rope near the cottage. This animal provides milk for the household. In front of the dwelling, at a distance of about fifteen paces, a pole, from 13 to 20 feet in height, is set up, at the top of which is fastened a nest-box for birds, and this is usually inhabited by Starlings.