USA > Iowa > Taylor County > History of Taylor County, Iowa : containing a history of the county, its cities, towns, etc. : a biographical directory of many of its leading citizens, war record of its volunteers in the late rebellion, general and local statistics, portraits of early settlers and prominent men, history of Iowa and the Northwest, map of Taylor County, Constitution of the United States, reminiscences, miscellaneous matters, etc > Part 40
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65 | Part 66 | Part 67 | Part 68 | Part 69 | Part 70 | Part 71 | Part 72 | Part 73 | Part 74 | Part 75 | Part 76 | Part 77 | Part 78 | Part 79 | Part 80 | Part 81 | Part 82 | Part 83 | Part 84 | Part 85 | Part 86 | Part 87 | Part 88 | Part 89
No. 92 .- " Have you heard the song of the field sparrow? If you have lived in a pastoral country, with broad upland pastures, you could hardly have missed him. Wilson, I believe, calls him the grass-finch, and was ev- idently unacquainted with his powers of song. The two white lateral quills of his tail, and his habit of running and skulking a few yards in ad- vance of you as you walk through the fields, are sufficient to identify him. Not in meadows or orchards, but in high, breezy pasture-grounds, will you look for him. His song is most noticeable after sundown, when other birds are silent, for which reason he is aptly called the vesper-sparrow. The farmer following his team from the field at dusk catches his sweetest strain. His song is not so brisk and varied as that of the song-sparrow, being softer and milder, sweeter and more plaintive. Add the best parts of the lay of the latter to the sweet vibrating chant of the wood-sparrow (Spizella pu- silla), and you have the evening hymn of the vesper-bird-the poet of the plain, unadorned pastures. Go to those broad, smooth, uplying fields,
356
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
where the cattle and sheep are grazing, and sit down on one of the warm, clean stones and listen to this song. On every side, near and remote, from out the short grass which the herds are cropping, the strain rises. Two or three long, silver notes of rest and peace, ending in some subdued trills or quavers, constitute each separate song. Often you will catch only one or two of the bars, the breeze having blown the minor part away. Such un- ambitious, unconcious melody! It is one of the most characteristic songs in nature. The grass, the stones, the stubble, the furrow, the quiet herds, and the warm twilight among the birds, are all subtilely expressed in this song; this is what they are at least capable of. "-John Burroughs.
No. 116 .- "The entire change of plumage which the male of this species undergoes twice a year is none the less interesting because it is so well known a fact in its economy. When the bird reaches the middle districts, which is usually not until May, the males, as a rule, are already in nearly perfect breeding attire, but in the vast majority of instances still show touches of yellowish on the belly and legs. At this period they are very conspicuous, associated in flocks, sometimes great in extent, moving rest- lessly about the meadows and orchards, overflowing with glad music. Their number seems out of all proportion to that of the females, but this is probably due to the silent and more retiring ways of the latter sex. They really pass through, in the vernal migration, quite rapidly, though they do not appear to be at all in a hurry, as we see them day by day. They throw themselves in a field, scatter on the ground, feeding, and at the slighest alarm, or in mere wantonness, suddenly fly en masse to the near- est tree, fence, or bush, and begin to sing, producing an indescribable med- ley, hushed in an instant only to be resumed. Sometimes they sing as merrily, though with less concerted action, while they are rambling in the grass. Their day-time leisure for song and food is easily explained, for they migrate at this season almost entirely by night. Every night in early May, as we walk the streets, we can hear the mellow metallic clink- ing coming down through the darkness, from birds passing high overhead and sounding clearer in the stillness. By the middle of May they have all passed; a few, it is stated, linger to breed south of New England, but the main body passes on, spreading over that portion of the Union and the neighboring British provinces, occupying in pairs almost every meadow. The change of plumage with the finishing of the duties of reproduction is rapid and complete before the return movement is made, although this · takes place in August. As far north at least as Maryland, I never saw or heard of a decidedly black individual among the millions that repass that State late in the summer and during September. The males are, indeed,
357
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
distinguishable by their superior size and a sort of diffuseness of tawny col- oration, not quite like the cleaner and lighter pattern of the females, aside from the black traces that frequently persist; but the difference is not great. They are now songless-who ever heard bobolink music in the fall ?- they have a comfortable, self-satisfied chink, befitting such fat and abandoned gourmands as they are, thronging in countless hoards the wild rice tracts and the grain fields, loafing, and inviting their souls. So they go, until the first cold snap that sends them into winter quarters at once-chiefly in the West Indies, but also further south. They have successively filled the role of bobolink, reed-bird, rice-bird, and butter-bird. As soon as the season relaxes once more, in March, they will re-enter the United States and do it all over again. "-Coues.
No. 117 .- " It does not appear that the cow-bird ever attempts to take forcible possession of a nest. She watches her chance while the owners are away, slips in by stealth and leaves the evidence of her unfriendly visit to be discovered on their return, in the shape of the ominous egg. The par- ents hold anxious consultation in this emergency, as their sorrowful cries and disturbed actions plainly indicate. If their nest was empty before, they generally desert it, and their courage in giving up a cozy home results in one cow-bird the less. Sometimes, even after there is an egg of their own in the nest, they have nerve enough to let it go, rather than assume the hateful task of incubating the strange one. But if the female has already laid one or two eggs, the pair generally settle into the reluctant con- viction that there is no help for it; they quiet down after a while and things go on as if nothing had happened. Not always, however, will they desert even an empty nest; some birds have discovered a way out of the difficulty -it is the most ingenious device imaginable, and the more we think about it the more astonishing it seems. They build a two-story nest, leaving the obnoxious egg in the basement. I want no better proof that birds possess a faculty indistinguishable, so far as it goes, from human reason; and such a case as this bears impressively upon the general question of the difference between reason and that faculty we designate by the vague and misleading term 'instinct.' The evidence has accumulated till it has become con- clusive, that the difference is one of degree, not of kind -- that instinct is a lower order of reason -- the arrest, in brutes, at a certain stage, of a faculty reaching higher development in man. Instinct, in the ill-considered cur- rent sense of the term, could never lead a summer yellow-bird up to build- ing a two-story nest to let a cow-bird's eggs addle below. Such 'instinct' is merely force of habit, inherited or acquired-a sum of tendencies operat- ing unknowingly and uniformly upon the same recurring circumstances,
358
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
devoid of conscious design, lacking recognized precision, totally inadequate to the requirements of the first special emergency. What bird, possessed of only such a faculty as this, could build a two-story nest to get rid of an ob- jectionable deposit in the original single-story fabric? It argues as intelli- gent a design as was ever indicated in the erection of a building by a human being. No question of inherited tendency enters here; and if it did the issue would be only set back a step, no nearer determination, for there must have been an original double nest, the result of an original idea. Nor is this wonderful forethought very rarely exhibited; considering what pro- portion the double nests discovered bear to the ordinary ones brought to our notice, among the millions annually constructed, we can easily believe that the ingenious device is in fact a frequent resort of the birds plagued by the cow-bunting. And how can we sufficiently admire the perseverance and energy of a bird which, having once safely shut up the terrible egg in her cellar, and then having found another one violating her premises, forthwith built a third story? She deserved better of fate than that her house should at last be despoiled by a naturalist. This was a summer yellow-bird, to whom the price of passing thus into history must have seemed hard. " -- Coues.
No. 130 .- "All jays make their share of noise in the world, they fret and scold about trifles, quarrel over anything, and keep everything in a foment when they are about. The particular kind we are now talking about is nowise behind his fellows in these respects -- a stranger to modesty and forbearance, and the many gentle qualities that charm us in some little birds and endear them to us, he is a regular filibuster, ready for any sort of adventure that promises sport or spoil, even if spiced with danger. Some- times he prowls about alone, but oftener has a band of choice spirits with him, who keep each other in countenance (for our jay is a coward at heart like other bullies), and share the plunder on the usual terms in such cases, of each one taking all he can get. Once I had a chance of seeing a band of these guerrillas on a raid; they went at in good style, but came off very badly indeed. A vagabond troop made a descent upon a bush clump, where, probably, they expected to find eggs to suck, or at any rate a chance for mischief and amusement. To their intense joy, they surprised a little owl, quietly digesting his grasshoppers, with both eyes shut. Here was a lark! and a chance to wipe out a part of the score that the jays keep against the owls for injuries received, time out of mind. In the tumult that ensued the little birds scurried off, the woodpeckers overhead stopped tapping to look on, and a snake that was basking in a sunny spot concluded to crawl into his hole. The jays lunged furiously at their enemy, who sat helpless,
359
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
bewildered by the sudden onslaught, trying to look as big as possible, with his wings set for bucklers and his bill snapping, meantime twisting his head till I though he would wring it off trying to look all ways at once. The jays, emboldened by partial success, grew more impudent, till their victim made a break through their ranks and flapped into the heart of a neighboring juniper, hoping to be protected by the tough, thick foliage. The jays went trooping after, and I hardly know how the fight would have ended had I not thought it time to take a hand in the game myself. I se- cured the owl first, it being the interesting pigmy owl (Glaucidium), and then shot four of the jays before they made up their minds to be off. The collector has no better chance to enrich his cabinet than when these birds are quarreling, and so it has been with the third party in a difficulty ever since the monkey divided cheese for the two cats. "-Coues.
No. 226 .- " Mudie speaks as follows of the European bittern's voice: 'Anon a burst of savage laughter breaks upon you, gratingly loud, and so unwonted and odd that it sounds as if the voices of a bull and a horse were combined; the former breaking down his bellow to suit the neigh of the latter, in mocking you from the sky'; * ** 'when the bittern booms and bleats overhead, one certainly feels as if the earth were shaking." Chaucer speaks as follows in The Wife of Bath's Tale:
'And as a bitore bumbleth in the mire, She laid hire mouth into the water doun, Bewray me not, thou water, with they soun', Quod she, to the I tell it, and no mo, Min husband hath long asses eres two.'
"Another notion was that the bill was put inside a reed to increase the sound; the truth is, of course, that the bird uses no means to produce its bellow but its own organs of voice. Our own bittern has no rude roar, but, as its name in most parts of the country denotes, makes a noise very much like driving a stake with an axe. It has also a hollow croak at the moment of alarm." -- Endicott.
No. 25 .-- "Although restricted in its northward dispersion, the Carolina wren is a hardy bird, enduring the winter of the Middle States. There may be an incomplete recession from its more northern abodes, yet it is as com- mon in winter as in summer, at least from Maryland southward. Such is the case about Washington, D. C., where I found it common at all seasons, though never in great abundance. It frequents shrubbery and undergrowth of all sorts, where it hides with great pertinacity, and is oftener heard than seen. Not that it is a particularly timid bird, for it often comes about the gardens and outhouses; but it is retiring and unfamiliar, courting privacy and seclusion. If we attempt to penetrate its hidden resorts, it hurries
360
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
away into deeper recesses, with a low fluttering near the ground, or scramb- ling and hopping from one bush to another, very like mocking us with its rollicking song as soon as it feels perfectly secure. It shares, however, the restlessness and prying curiosity of its tribe; and if we keep still in a favor- able spot we may often see it returning slyly to take a look at us, peering from among the leaves with an inquisitive air, all the while ' teetering ' its body, and performing odd, nervous antics, as if it were possessed with the very spirit of unrest. At such times it chatters in a harsh querulous tone, as if resenting the intrusion, and this is its ordinary note wher. angry, alarmed, or otherwise disturbed in mind. Its song is quite another thing -. loud, clear, strong, and highly musical; indeed I hardly know what bird possesses a richer voice, though many are sweeter songsters. The song is a rapid succession of whistling notes, delivered with great energy and accent, it closely resembles that of the cardinal grosbeak, styled in some parts the " Virginia nightingale," and meriting the compliment. In still weather the wren can be heard several hundred yards, but it is not easy to trace the music up to its source, because the resonant quality of the notes make the whole copse seem to ring with the sound, and because the restless songster is constantly changing his position."-Coues.
No. 30 .- " The home of this little bird is one often invaded by the cow- bird; on several different occasions, of which I am informed, as many as three or four of the alien eggs having been found in it. Its low situation probably favors the cow-bird in this respect. This warbler surpasses all others in the ease and agility with which it scrambles in every direction and in every attitude, up, down, and around the trunks and branches of trees, its habits being as strongly pronounced as those of a creeper itself, and corres- pondingly different from those of its allies among the true warblers. It is very abundant throughout the wooded portions of the eastern United States, and in spring is as noisy as it is active, continually uttering its queer, screeping song in spring-time, during its busy search for insects."-Cones.
No. 79 .- " The question of the relationship of our various larks, is rather intricate, but we probably have an approximate correct solution of the prob- lem. It is certain in the first place, that our bird is identical with that of Europe-there is no ground on which to base even varietal distinction of the ordinary North American bird. By this is meant those individuals from any part of the country that are extensively migratory, bred far north, and dispersed at other seasons over most of the United States-certainly over all the Eastern States, and apparently also to some distance along the Pacific coast. Never continually exposed to special modifying influence of climate or food, these retain what may be regarded as the normal charac-
361
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
ters of the species. But in all the open country of the west, from Iowa, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, the birds find congenial breeding-ground, and are stationary, or nearly so. These birds become impressed with a certain · character, due to the special circumstances of environment, which may be summed as pallor, corresponding in degree to the atmospheric dryness. It varies in degree from a slight paleness matched by the palest eastern birds, to the maximum in birds of the most arid regions. No specific distinction, of course, can be predicated, nor is it possible to assign a geographical dis- tribution with strictness. In the south the question is complicated by another consideration. Here latitude plays its part in reduction of size, and is brightening the plumage again to an extent scarcely seen in the eastern birds. The result is a bird so different from the ordinary style that it was admitted as a species by Dr. Finsch, although he reduced the dozen or more current species to five."-Coues.
No. 99 .- " The food and general economy of this species are not peculiar, but it has nevertheless its distinctive traits. It is a very abundant bird, but its retiring habits withdraw it from general observation. It is not so decid- edly gregarious as some of its allies, and is oftener found skulking alone through rank herbage and tangled undergrowth than in flocks; still, in the fall, I have found considerable numbers together, about the edges of reedy swamps, sharing the shrubbery with the song sparrows and the reeds with the species of Ammodromus between which it forms, in one sense, a con- necting link. I have also seen it, though more rarely, in open, wet, grassy places. During the vernal migration, at Washington, D. C., I used to look for it in the undergrowth fringing tiny streams flowing through open woods, and rarely failed to find it, if I looked close enough, in the very heart of such recesses, the skirts of which were full of white-throated sparrows and other more conspicuous species. I never saw it take a long flight in the open woods; generally it was seen flitting from bush to bush, just over the ground or water, flurting the tail, and uttering its peculiar note. Its chirp is remarkably different from that of any other species, and, with its general reddishness, seems to distinguish it from its associates. The song I have never heard. Nuttall says that occasionally, mounted on the top of a low bush or willow-tree, it chants 'a few trilling, rather monotonous, minor notes, resembling, in some measure, the song of the field sparrow, and appearing like twe, tw' tw' tw' tw' tw' twe, and twl' tw'l'tw tw' twe, uttered in a pleasing and somewhat varied warble." -- Coues.
No. 146 .- "The nest of the chimney swallow is one of the most remark- able structures of the kind to be found among the handiwork of even this interesting family, nearly all of whom are far from being undistinguished
362
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
for their architectural accomplishments. It is composed of small twigs of nearly uniform size, which are interwoven into a neat semicircular basket. In selecting the twigs with which to construct the nest, the swift seems to prefer to break from the tree such as are best adapted to its wants, rather than to gather those already scattered upon the ground. This is done with great skill and adroitness, while on the wing. Sweeping on the coveted twig, somewhat as a hawk rushes on its prey, it parts it at the desired place, and bears it off to its nest. This fact is familiar to all who have attentively observed its habits. Each of these twigs is firmly fastened to its fellows by an adhesive saliva, secreted by the bird, and the whole structure is strongly cemented to the side of the chimney in which it is built by means of the same secretion. When dry, this saliva hardens into a glue-like sub- stance, apparently firmer even than the twigs themselves. In separating a nest from the side of a chimney, I have known portions of the brick to which it was fastened to give way sooner than the cement with which it had been secured. When moistened, however, by long or heavy rains, the weight of their contents will sometimes cause them to part, and precipitate the whole to the bottom. The young birds cling very tenaciously to the sides of the chimney with their strong claws and muscular feet, and often save themselves from falling by this means, even at a very early age, and before they have attained their sight. As the nest, even when undisturbed, soon becomes too small for them, the young leave it long before they are able to fly, and climb to the top of the chimney, where they are fed by their parents."-Coues.
No. 178 .- "The marsh harrier belongs among the "ignoble " birds of the falconers, but is neither a weakling nor a coward, as one may easily satisfy himself by handling a winged bird. Still, under ordinary circumstances, its spirit is hardly commensurate with its physique, and its quarry is humble. It lacks the splendid action that insures success, in the pursuit of feathered game, of the dashing falcons and true hawks; with all its stroke of wing, it acquires no such resistless impetus. Audubon, indeed, says that at times, when impelled by hunger, it will attack partridges, plovers, and even teal; but he adds that he once saw a marsh hen come off victo- rious in a battle with the harrier. It ordinarily stoops to field-mice, small reptiles, and insects. It is particularly fond of frogs; these goggle-eyed and perspiring creatures suffer more from the harriers than from all the
school-boys that ever stoned them of a Saturday afternoon. * * * * They hover at no great height, keenly surveying the ground below, and drop directly on their quarry when it is descried. They rarely pursue their prey, or transport it to any distance when secured, preferring to make a meal
363
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
on the spot. Hence it frequently happens that when walking in reedy covert the gunner puts up a marsh hawk, disturbed at its repast in the thick vegetation that served alike to screen the bird and cover his own advance. At such a time, as the bird flaps up and makes off at its best pace, it may be brought down with the greatest ease. With wings of ample dimensions-even to be called long in proportion to its weight -- the bird nevertheless does not fly very fast; it proceeds, ordinarily, with regular, easy strokes, three or four times in succession, and then sails until the impulse is exhausted. It often courses very low over the ground, and rather swiftly, turning, passing and repassing 'quartering' the ground like a well-broken dog. This is the habit that has given it the name of ' harrier,' and, in some sections, the less elegant designation of 'bog- trotter.' The old male is also sometimes called ' blue-hawk.' " -- Coues.
No. 212 .- " These birds seem rather delicate of body, and may be killed with a touch of shot. I have frequently brought them down, particularly when they were on the wing, with the sides of the body therefore unpro- tected by strong feathers, at very long range, and with shot so fine that it would not have mutilated a warble at half the distance. I think they dif- fer noticeably in this respect from the majority of waders, which require to be pretty hard hit; the peetweets, in particular, are rather tough birds for their size. Neither do they attempt to escape when wounded by diving, at which the last named is an expert under similar circumstances. At least such has been my experience, which I am the more careful to give, since others have stated just the contrary. I think them gentle birds, almost like doves among their kind. They yield captives without a struggle. They show concern and sympathy for a dead or wounded comrade. I have seen them gather around one of their number that had fallen, so taken up with what their emotions were that they quite forgot that they were in like danger. Though under some circumstances rather watchful, they some- times show a curious insouciance that borders on what might be called stu- pidity, and is quite a different thing from the reckless familiarity of such birds, for example, as the timid yet confiding little sandpeeps. An illus- tration may stand in good stead of further explanation. Once coming up to a fence that went past a little pool, and peeping through the slats I saw eight tattlers of this species wading about in the shallow water, searching for food. I pulled trigger on one; the others set up a simultaneous outcry, and I expected them, of course, to fly off, but they presently quieted down and began feeding again. Without moving from my place, I fired three times more, killing a single one at each discharge; still no effect upon the survivors, except as before. Then I climbed over the fence and stood in
364
HISTORY OF TAYLOR COUNTY.
full view of the four remaining birds; they merely flapped to the further side of the pool and stood looking at me, nodding away, as if agreed that the whole thing was very singular. I stood and deliberately loaded and fired three times more, taking one bird each time, and it was only as I was ramming another charge that the sole surviving bird concluded to make off, which he did, I will add in justice. to his wits, in a great hurry. The seven birds were all killed with mustard seed, at from twelve to twenty paces."-Coues.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.