The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1921-04-30
MARSHES ARE HOMES
or MANY ANIMALS

brOoding as in the vast marshes,
combined at the same time with so
much furtive activity, 80 many
eyes under this apparent somno
ience, the watcher and the watched
tensely on guard against hasty
movement, or even the unwary
turning of an eyeball may mean In
stand death. For hunter and the
hunted, alike, existence is hard, an
infinite, unsleeping struggle, the
battle ever to the strong.
A large marsh rat, feeding in ap-
parent safety under the tall marsh
grass, did not hear the stealthy ap-
proach of the mink behind him,
There was piteOus squeak, and
then-silence.
The mink Of the marsh. which
will probably some day go to the
opera around the throats of beau
tiful ladies', has an amphibious
character, which his brethren Of
more firm ground have not in such
large degree. He steals through
the jungle of long, intertwined and
twisted grasses, along the tunnels
made by the timorous little folk,
who seeming their terrible enemy,
scurry to their burrows, shiyering
with fear and terror.
High overhead the marsh hawk,
keen of eye and terrible of aspect,
is poised on steady wing, piercing
the waving grass below him, pc
rusing every nook and Granny and
observing every unnatural move
ment of the grass.
Suddenly, with folded wings, he
pOunces downward. His talons
sing through fur and flesh. The
mink who has so recently been the
hunter, is now borne aloft in the
talOns Of the hawk, to become the
food of the young hawks in the
nest at the top of a tall pine, not
far distant.
A mouse. after crouching in his
burrow for a half hour, cautiously
steals from his hole. An uncau-
tious grasshopper perched near
the bottom of a swaying blade Of
grass, attracts the attention Of the
mouse, and he seizes the grasshap-
per. There Is a crunching and the
mouse feeds. After finishing the
grasshopper he starts eating seeds.
He is ever on guard, however, his
black eye observing everything
around him, his round ears twitch-
ing to hear the slightest sound. A
sound reached his ears-he pauses
then scampers to his burrow, not
to emerge until a considerable
space of time has passed.
In the quiet of the afternoon, as
you lie still in your observation
place, you will suddenly become
aware that certain blue-gray shapes
have come up, unseen, about you,
and stand about the shallow, stag
nant pools on one leg, or walk
gravely to and fro like philosophers
in meditation, sometimes moving
with a wide, Tapping sweep of
wings, and trailing legs, which
gives them the appearance of hav-
ing blunt, square tail. They ut
ter hOarse, illtempered cry, as
though resenting intrusion. 1t is,
of course, the blue heron, whose
nest Is in the treetops Of the neigh
boring woodland.
For the "finny tribe" also, dan
ger is always present. In the stag
nant pools they glide about, terror
above, below and behind them; the
hawk over their heads, the herons
at their tails and their numerous
enemies in the pools themselves.
A marsh, for most of US, is a
nuisance, an undesirable piece of
land, which occasionally serves as
a place to hunt ducks and to trap.
But If we were to study 1t, become
intimate with it. we would realize
the furtive activity. the ever-pres-
ent fight for existence, the beauty
OF 1t all. For the careful observer
It Is source of knowledge and de-
light. The marsh gives us an op-
portunity to study the wild folk in
their native haunts.-Ernest
their native haunts.
Ernest Schwidder in