By Franklin Rand Magee NE would think it is not only strange but controverting all natural laws to see a cat swimming voluntarily in water; even more so to see a fish on dry land looking for food; or an animal of earth attempting to fly and get its sustenance among the insects that fill the summer air, as do the numerous fly-catchers with whom all are familiar who have studied the birds; but will you not think it almost as strange and unnatural to imagine sea gulls flying far inland and pursuing much the same habits as some other birds? Nowadays one feels that all who love the out-of-doors have gained some knowledge of bird life, either by casual observation or perhaps by a more or less careful study of the books which are devoted to the interesting subject of the habits of birds and the marks of plumage, their notes or the method of flight by which they may be identified. Whoever lives near the sea has become familiar with the beautiful sea gulls, with their pure white and delicate gray coloring and their graceful flight as they sail leisurely, high in the air, or dart swiftly to the surface of the water and plunge in headlong for the small fishes on which they feed; but who has ever seen a gull amidst a flock of crows, the strongest possible contrast in appearance and differing no less strongly in all the characteristics which we commonly attribute to these birds! One has seen sea gulls flying over the land sometimes, and thought they had come in a short distance to escape a storm at sea; or observe them at certain seasons seeking a nesting place on some quiet lake for the rearing of a brood of young ones. My experience was nothing so ordinary as this. I was in Scotland, and one beautiful afternoon in June I drove from the station at Melrose about two miles out into the country to Abbotsford, the former home of Sir Walter Scott. The fields were all in a high state of cultivation. Some were already green with the new growing crops, while in others the farmers were still plowing. In one large field directly beside our road the industrious plowman was turning over the rich earth, and crowding behind him were perhaps thirty or forty crows picking up the worms and insects from the rich soil. What interested me particularly were the white sea gulls, perhaps a dozen of them, mingling with the black crows and feeding upon the ground as naturally and as peaceably as the crows themselves. There was no contention among them; and the black birds, who might have claimed a prior right to feed on the land seemed to share willingly their sweet morsels of food with their web-footed friends. Later, I discovered that Robert Louis Stevenson had recorded the self-same curious observation; and had found it strange enough to suggest the verses which appear in "Underwoods" entitled "A Visit from the Sea," and which, since they may have escaped other Stevenson lovers as they had escaped me, I quote in full: "Far from the loud sea beaches Where he goes fishing and crying, Here in the inland garden Why is the sea-gull flying? Here are no fish to dive for; Here is the corn and lea; Here are the green trees rustling, Fresh is the river water And quiet among the rushes; Pity the bird that has wandered! Hurry him home to the ocean, Let him come here no more! High on the sea-cliff ledges The white gulls are trooping and crying Here among rocks and roses Why is the sea-gull flying? Another interesting experience with birds in Scotland was my first sight, or more wonderful yet, my first hearing, of the skylark. I was walking in the outskirts of Edinburgh, going out from town to the house where Stevenson lived for a time. My way led through farmland, where the fields invited one to roam quietly and the birds were free from molestation. It was all quite new to me in the character of trees, flowers and other wayside features; and many of the birds were likewise strange. Suddenly the air was filled with a wonderfully sweet and penetrating bird note, a long, sustained song unlike any I had ever heard in America. Instinctively I stopped and tried to fix the direction from which the song emanated, and very soon I discovered a small bird rising directly in a straight line, its wings fluttering in such a manner as to mount upward but not to make any perceptible forward motion. The song was continuous. The bird rose until it was barely visible, but the song was so rich and clear that it was more distinct to the ear than one's sight of the tiny speck in the sky. At the height of the flight, still pouring forth its rich melody in undiminished strength and purity of tone, our little friend maintained its position for some moments, neither rising nor returning; but, "Now it stops like a bird Like a flower hangs furled" and then when it seemed as if I should be blinded by gazing so long into the brightness of a clear sky, I saw the fluttering wings descending and heard the music growing more clear, as the bird glided down to earth in the same straight line by which it ascended, and when about ten feet from the ground stopped fluttering and dropped suddenly to a point very close to its nest. OFFICERS OF CHAUTAUQUA LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC CIRCLE. JOHN H. VINCENT, Chancellor. GEORGE E. VINCENT, President. HENRY W. WARREN COUNSELORS. J. M. GIBSON LYMAN ABBOTT WM. C. WILKINSON EDWARD EVERETT HALE MISS KATE F. KIMBALL, Executive Secretary. MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; The hills of the Highlands forever I love. Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow; HELPS TO EFFICIENCY. Everybody comes in touch in one way or another with economic problems. The baby in the soap-box cradle is affected by a change in the wage scale, and the aged millionaire |