Country Walks of a Naturalist with His Children

by W. Houghton

Here you see is the elegant parasol fungus, with its tall stem and top spotted with brown flakes; it is a most delicious one to eat, and in my opinion is superior to the common mushroom. "Shall we find the beefsteak fungus, papa?" said Willy. I have never seen it growing here; the beefsteak fungus prefers to grow on very old oak trees, and it is, moreover, by no means common. It is so called from its resemblance to a beefsteak when cut through; a reddish gravy-like juice flows from the wound, and I think the whole fungus when young very inviting. I have on three or four occasions eaten this species, but I do not think it a very palatable one, though perfectly wholesome and doubtless nutritious.

Here is a quantity of Amanita phalloides, very beautiful with its green tints and white stem; but I should not like to eat any of this kind. Do you notice what a very unpleasant smell it has?

FUNGI.
1.—Beef-steak Fungus.
2.—Latticed Stinkhorn, (very rare.)
3.—Boletus.
4.—Hedgehog Mushroom.
5.—Fly Agaric.
6.—Clavaria.
7.—Bird's-nest Fungus; b, Sporangium of ditto, magnified.

What a number of animals are nailed to that beech-tree! Let us see what they are: two cats, three weasels, two stoats, four jays, two magpies, two kestrils, an owl, and a sparrow-hawk. The keeper has trapped or shot these as enemies to the game, and no doubt, with the exception of the weasels, owl, and kestrils, the other animals often destroy young pheasants or suck their eggs. Still I should not like to see all wild animals destroyed that occasionally harm game preserves. Gamekeepers have strong affection for their hares, partridges, and pheasants, and consider all other wild animals as either enemies or beneath notice. Indeed, a gamekeeper's zoology is confined to five things—pheasants, partridges, hares, rabbits, and ants' eggs. Ah! I do think I espy about twenty yards ahead the fly agaric (Amanita muscaria). To be sure, here is a fine lot; some just appearing above ground in the form of scarlet balls; others fully expanded. How splendid they are! You notice many white patches on their tops; let us see how these patches are formed. Here is a specimen hardly showing itself. I will dig it up. There, now you see; the whole fungus is wrapped up in a thin white envelope; this is called a volva, from the Latin word volvo—"I roll up." When the volva breaks, it leaves scattered patches on the top. The gills are white or yellowish and the stem is bulbous. This is not a very common fungus; it is, however, frequent enough in the woods about the Wrekin. The effects of this fungus on a person who has eaten it are of an intoxicating nature. Dr. Badham, who used to eat various kinds of fungi and has written a very good book on wholesome kinds, once gathered some specimens of the fly agaric. He sent them to two lady friends, intending to call soon afterwards and explain that he had sent them on account of their extreme beauty solely. Dr. Badham did not come, but these two ladies said, "Oh, of course Dr. Badham would never send us anything unwholesome; let us have some cooked for tea." So they had some cooked and ate thereof, and were taken very ill. The bad effects, however, soon passed away. Look at that little squirrel, see how nimbly he climbs the tree; now he hides on a forked branch and thinks we do not see him. Well, I must not forget to tell you that this fungus, growing in this spot so plentifully, is called fly agaric because a decoction of it was once used to destroy flies. The people in Siberia swallow portions of it to produce intoxication. Here is another species closely related to the one we have been considering, and not unlike it in form; this is the blushing agaric (Amanita rubescens); you see its top also is covered with whitish flakes or warts; and persons who are not in the habit of noticing differences might confuse this species with the other. Now look; I will cut this specimen through with my knife, and bruise it slightly; do you see how it changes to a reddish hue, thus at once distinguishing itself from its unwholesome relative? This quality gives the name to the fungus. The blushing agaric is perfectly wholesome. You remember how often we had it cooked last autumn, and how delicious it was both for breakfast and dinner. I would never, however, advise persons who have not paid attention to the study of fungi to gather and eat them without asking the opinion of some one who had knowledge of the subject; and I am sure that you, children, will never think of eating any kind that you have not first brought to me. There sits the squirrel. Let us make him show us how he can leap from one bough to another. I clap my hands and Jack throws a stone, and off the little fellow goes, taking wonderful leaps. As the winter approaches the squirrel will be busy laying up stores for consumption during that season, such as nuts, acorns, and beech-mast. For the greater part of the winter the squirrel is dormant; on fine warm days, however, he ventures out of his retreat in the hole of a tree, visits his cupboard, cracks a few nuts, and then goes to sleep again. The nest of the squirrel is made of moss, leaves, and twigs curiously intertwined, and is generally placed between the forked branches; the young ones, two or three in number, are born in the month of June. A gentleman, in a letter to Mr. Jenyns, says "a pair which frequented a tree opposite the window of one of the rooms, evinced great enmity to a couple of magpies with whom they kept up a perpetual warfare, pursuing them from branch to branch, and from tree to tree with untiring agility. Whether this persecution arose from natural antipathy between the combatants, or from jealousy of interference with their nests, is not known."

What are those black circular spots some four or five yards in diameter, so common in the woods of the Wrekin? They are places where wood has been burnt for charcoal. Always examine such spots, as you may find rare plants growing upon them which scarcely grow anywhere else. Here, for instance, is Flammula carbonaria abundant. On these charcoal spots this fungus delights to grow, and I do not think you will find it elsewhere. Mr. Worthington Smith tells us it is a very rare British fungus; it is not mentioned in Mr. Berkley's 'Outlines of Fungology.' Here is a beautifully marked variety of Polyporus perennis, also very rare; it is tinted with rich sienna, chocolate, and black; it is found only in these charcoal rings. Let us go farther on. Look at that splendid bright, orange-yellow fungus growing amongst the moss in large tufts as it were. Each plant has a tender stem with short branches; what a number are growing together with roots or lower portions of the stem closely intertwined! This is Clavaria fastigiata. Here we meet with the sticky Gomphidius viscidus, and here with the handsome Tricholoma scalpturatus, and the lovely T. rutilans. I am obliged to use Latin names as there are no English ones. The ground here is covered with the small Clitocyle fragrans; it smells like newly-mown hay. And now we meet with various Boleti. Look at the under surface; you see it is riddled with numerous small holes, very unlike the gills of the mushroom and all agarics. We shall find Boletus luteus, B. flavus, B. edulis, B. scaber, the handsome but poisonous B. luridus. Boletus edulis is, as its name imports, very good to eat and perfectly wholesome; so, too, is B. scaber and B. luteus. Holloa! what bird has just fled before us? it is a woodcock evidently, and has probably lately arrived in this country from the south of Europe, though woodcocks occasionally reside here all through the year. The woodcock is a very handsome bird with its dark mottled brown plumage, long bill, and large, full, black eyes. "What do these birds feed upon?" asked Willy. You often hear people say "they live upon suction," and "do not eat any food." That I fancy is a common belief amongst sportsmen. It is, however, altogether a mistake; for these birds eat quantities of earthworms, as has frequently been witnessed. I will give an instance of this in the case of a woodcock kept in an aviary somewhere in Spain. "There was a fountain perpetually flowing to keep the ground moist and trees planted for the same purpose; fresh sod was brought to it, the richest in worms that could be found. In vain did the worms seek concealment; when the woodcock was hungry it discovered them by the smell, stuck its beak into the ground, but never higher than the nostrils, drew them out singly, and raising its bill into the air, it extended upon it the whole length of the worm, and in this way swallowed it smoothly without any action of the jaws. This whole operation was performed in an instant, and the action of the woodcock was so equal and imperceptible that it seemed doing nothing; it never missed its aim; for this reason, and because it never plunged its bill beyond the orifice of the nostrils, it was concluded that the bird was directed to its food by smell." There is one very interesting point in the natural history of the woodcock which I must not forget to mention. The old birds sometimes carry their little ones from the place where they are hatched down to soft marshy places to feed on the worms and insect larvæ found there; they take them in the evening and return with them in the morning. "But how do they carry them?" asked May. Some observers have said they are carried in the claws, but Mr. St. John maintains that the little birds are clasped tightly between the thighs.

"Is it not a difficult thing to tell the difference between the male and female woodcock?" asked Willy. Yes, I do not think it is possible in every case to tell the difference; the male bird is smaller than the female of the same age, and there are slight differences in the colour of the plumage, but as you may meet with birds of different ages, and as woodcocks are much subject to variation of plumage, it is difficult to pronounce whether this woodcock is a male and that a female.

"Oh, papa, what are these ring-marks on the end of this bit of timber upon which we are sitting?" said Willy. These rings or zones represent the various growths made every year by the tree when it was growing, each zone being the produce of one year. As the wood ceases to grow for some months in the winter, a distinction in appearance between the last wood of a former and the first wood of the succeeding year is occasioned; so that, in our own country at least, the age of a tree can be ascertained within some limit by counting the number of zones; there is, however, great difference in the size of the same species of trees, even of the same age, and great difference too in the width of the zones; indeed, you can see this in the case of the wood we have been sitting upon. See how the zones differ, how broad some are, how narrow are others; nay, even in one year you see how the zone varies. The subject of the growth of trees is very interesting, and I would advise you, when you get older, to pay some attention to it.

Here is another fungus, and a species which I am very glad to find in the Wrekin woods, though it grows but sparingly. Take it up; turn it over. How curious! the under side is not a series of gills, as in Agaricus, nor a substance perforated by a number of little holes, as in Boletus. It is formed of a quantity of delicate white teeth or spines; see how beautiful they are and how easily broken. The spines are exactly like miniature awls. It is called from the prickly appearance of the under surface, or hymenium, the hedgehog mushroom (Hydnum repandum). "Is it good to eat?" asked Jack. It is, in my opinion, one of the most exquisite fungi that grows, and the most curious thing about it is that its flavour very strongly resembles oysters. Last year we had some of these fellows cut up in bits about the size of a bean and stewed in white sauce; the sauce we ate with a beefsteak at dinner, and I do think that as far as flavour is concerned one might almost pass it off as oyster sauce without any one finding it out. Not that the hedgehog-mushroom-sauce is really as good as oyster sauce, but, as I said, the flavour strongly reminds one of it, nor do I think that any fungi, delicious as they are, can ever come up to oysters, the ne-plus-ultra of exquisite food.

It is getting towards evening and we must not linger much longer. How many eatable fungi have we got? let me count. Lepiota procera, Amanita rubescens, Hydnum repandum, and Marasmius oreades which we gathered in the meadow before we entered the wood. We will take them home, they will come in very well either at breakfast or at dinner time. The other fungi we will also take home and compare them with the descriptions and drawings in my books.