Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 February 1914 — FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW [ARTICLE]

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW

When the falling snow drops in light, airy flakes on the pines and spruces, and drapes with its clustering tracery the oaks and maples—when the still air seems to fix everything out of doors In a solid mass of crystal, then we can hie to the wood, knowing that there it is always comfortable. In the shelter of the trees the frost seems to lose it© fierceness, and should a spiteful wind sweep over the naked hills and fields, and rage amongst the tree tops, we find in the depths of the forest that the blast is only a murmur to our ears, and a solace which enhances the about us. ; To the lover of nature, the woods L in winter' present unlimited opportunities for observing the habits of the creatures of the field, the forest and even some of our avian friends. Before we start dealing with tracks, we wish to suggest to the boy who would read these signs aright, that the feet of all animals should be closely examined, either in life or in specimen, then by visits to the Zoos or Museums, he can note their customary gait while walking and running. Much preliminary study should be done In this way, and It will certainly be time well spent. _For only occasionally can one actually see the track-makers on their dally rounds, and it were far better that we pass over many of the signs on the snow, than that one of them should be erroneously Identified. The two commonest tracks are that of the field mouse and the cottontail rabbit. The little row of twin footprints of the field mouse are often taken by a novice for some sort of a bird’s. I suppose because its tracks begin at a place where it is unlikely any animal could emerge unless It dropped from the skies, and, when It has had Its outing, disappears in an equally mysterious Way.

They have, however, a starting point and it is usually near a tuft of grass or bush, where a small hole permits our dainty traveler to crawl out rand write his name on the white and even page of winter. Follow him along, in and out amongst the trees, curving and twisting, tunneling and climbing like a miniature railroad, and you will find another small hole where he entered to hide himself from the gaze of the upper world. These little fellows are inveterate ramblers, And it is a -very severe storm which will keep them under cover more than a day at a time. Their tracks In the hard snow are clear and distinct, but when it is soft and deep their little legs and tail leave a trail which resembles more than anything else a chain with links joined together. The tracks of the cottontail ate a study In themselves. The two prints In front are made by the hind feet, while the hind ones are set there by the front feet. This is due to overreaching, a feature one will not wonder at when he sees the “doubling up” a rabbit makes in the air with every bound he takes. While nearly everyhody ts aware that a rabbit’s hind foot is larger than its fore foot, there are few who who can correctly tell the direction the animal is traveling by looking at its tracks. The house cat makes a very deliberate track, every foot print clear and distinct, and evidently put down with extreme caution. Cat prints are easily identified, when once seen, but there is no uniformity as to -how they lay their course. Of the birds that visit the snowy places, we find the horned lark, lapland longspur, snowflake, robin and crows the moßt numerous.

The horned lark leaves a dragging trail. Its methodical crouching walk, and long spurs will sometimes »cut two parallel lines, from which you can hardly find where the feet have rested, and again, it will leave a trail as distinct as one could wish for. It is an uncertain ranger, but this is due to its continued search for food, aul although it must suffer severely in winter for the necessities of life, it is as cheerful in its song as If the cares of the world belonged to some other bird. Along the railroad tracks, and on the bare spots In the open fields, one can always hear its musical song, though at times it cuts this short and melts the notes into a piteous appeal, which to me is always Interpreted as a cry for food.

The crows are ever with us. In snmmqr they track the newly plowed land, and pull the sprouting grain, and in winter they visit the same fields, and renew the walks they previously took under more congenial sklea. Their track is a dodging one, bat withal distinct. The Impressions of the warts on the toe joints, and the tapering cuts made by the clawß are visible under favorable conditions.

One day while following tracks through a swampy piece of ground I came upon the trick of a mouse. At first It dodged in and out in the usual way. and then led out Into an open,spot some couple of hundreds Of jpfixdf. across. The thought hashed upon me. wouldn’t this be a likely spot for an owl to do his hunting? Following along. I soon saw that the track lengthened out; the footprints beoame less distinct, and a few yards

further 1 they suddenly vanished. There on either side of the last footprints were the deep marks of a pair of wings, In fact, the shape of the primaries were plainly visible. About six feet further on a few tiny drops of red on the white snow showed that the mouse had met its death by being pounced on by an owl, and lifted off its feet by the winged murderer.

The same day, a hound and a cottontail rabbit furnished the principal objects in a scene which depicts the trackß left by these sporty animals on the page of winter; I did not see either of the principals, but the story was as complete as If I had witnessed It from start to finish. When I first came upon this particular track, I noted that the leaps of the rabbit were short, but on coming to where a couple of men had crossed it at - right angles, it was plain that they had also observed the trail of the cottontail, as they had stopped, and one had tried the freshness of the footprint, by touching it with his finger. A dog was with them, its big pads being visible along with that of the men. The dog needed no urging to take the trail of Molly Cottontail, the branching off being regular, and without any,preliminary marking up of the snow, as would have been the case had the scent been uncertain, or the hound unduly urged to follow his master, The rabbit I could see had preceded the dog only a short time, as the latter cut corners, when the former circled —a ' thing no well-trained hound . would have done had the scent not been fresh, or he was anyway uncertain about being able to pick it up again. The chase was a long one, and while it kept o the same section of bush,'it circled round and round In a manner well known to all rabbit hunters. I wished little bunny well, and am hoping that had I followed it to a finish, I should have found where Molly had “holed up,” and thus escaped the hound and hunters. —John Boyd in Recreation Magazine.