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| TALL OR GIANT SUNFLOWER. (Helianthus giganteus). | ||
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| BLACK-EYED SUSAN OR OX-EYE DAISY. (Rudbeckia hirta). | FROM "NATURE'S GARDEN." COPYRIGHT 1900, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY. | |
A TRUE STORY OF A WAYWARD BOB WHITE.
Mother Bob White, with due maternal care, had selected a most appropriately concealed spot for her treasure. The roughly constructed nest was built upon high ground, and was artfully hidden at the base of a tuft of dried grass. That the necessary moisture, which adds vitality and strength to the young should not be lacking, she had deposited her eggs almost upon the bare earth, only a thin, but closely woven mat of dried grass intervening between the nine white eggs and the brown earth. The days of incubation were divided between the two old birds, the cock performing his share of the parent's duties. When the hen was collecting her food he would nestle down upon the eggs with a care equally as great as that bestowed by the mother.
After the chicks were hatched the cock shook himself free of any and all responsibility, and betook himself to the meadows to enjoy the more liberal forage. This desertion was most satisfactory to the mother, for no doubt she wished to have the entire training of the little ones left strictly to her care. She would not lead the chicks forth until sure of his departure. What fluffy little brown beauties they were as they dodged in and out among the weeds and grasses, learning their first lessons in the roughest school of life, the school of experience! They had many dangers to guard against, and they learned that much work was required of them before their insatiable little appetites were satisfied. They must brave attacks from foxes, skunks, weasels and minks upon the ground, and at the same time keep an alert eye upward for the sudden advent of some hungry hawk by day, or the relentless swoop of owls by night. Their nights were spent in anxiety, and, in fact, then they were most insecure, as owls, and foxes especially, appreciate a young quail and exert themselves to capture them. Their caution, however, could not interfere with their obtaining a supply of food and water, so they braved many dangers every hour of their lives, and not many days after their entrance into this world they had gained the assurance which comes from meeting and overcoming difficulties.
Mother Bob White had been carefully guarding her little brown family, leading them forth daily in quest of small bugs and scattered seeds, always upon the lookout for possible enemies, never failing to flutter away, feigning a crippled wing, should I chance to come upon her suddenly. And on such occasions look as quickly and intently as I might I seldom caught a glimpse of those brown bodies that so well obey the parting cry of warning, uttered by the mother as she fluttered just beyond my reach, leading me straight away from her trembling family. Should you wish to find one of the little chicks you may do so by carefully feeling among the tufts of grass and other decayed brown vegetation nearest the spot where one's eye lost them.
Upon one occasion I discovered several of this little brood in a most peculiar and interesting situation. I had startled the mother-bird while she was leading her young ones through a wood, the ground thickly covered with dried leaves, and, as she fluttered away from almost beneath my feet, I dared not move for fear of crushing one of the chicks. They scattered and seemed to have disappeared on all sides near me. Gazing intently upon the mass of brown leaves, I was thinking how I could extricate myself without harming the hidden brood, when my eye caught the slight motion of a leaf almost against my foot. I stooped and gently raised the leaf. It felt wonderfully heavy. This oddity of weight prepared me for the surprise yet in store. When the leaf had been lifted a sufficient distance to enable me to look beneath, I caught a glimpse of a tiny brown rascal clinging desperately. He was in the drollest of positions, clinging feet uppermost.
I soon learned to know about where Mrs. Bob White's brood could be found, and they were quite grateful for the crumbs scattered daily within their reach, usually along an old and dusty wagon road which passed but a short distance from the spot where the nest had been. The mother would lead her flock forth where for a few minutes would be enacted an amusing scene as she attempted their education in the art of dusting themselves. They would stand amazed, watching the cloud of fine dust raised by their teacher, until one by one, they seemed to understand her meaning and then squatting down in a circle, they made feeble imitations of her vigorous motions.