Wild Americans

Front matter

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Contents

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The Deer: A Tan Beauty. 9

The Armadillo: An Armored Creature. 18

Chapter I THE DEER: A Tan Beauty

we’ll have to be very quiet now,” \ Uncle Ely Blair whispered. “Just hide here in the soft grass and peep out. The wind’s right, so they won’t catch a whiff of us, if they do come.”

Buck and Ginger Blair said not a word. They sat still. Through the tall stems of grass and weeds they could look down at the pool of water, not three hum dred feet away. It was the only water within many miles, they knew, and here at sunrise Uncle Ely had promised that “something might happen.”

Many things had already happened to Billy Buck and Mary Virginia Blair (nicknamed Ginger) since they left their home in the East. Uncle Ely, Father’s bachelor brother, who lived on a ranch in Texas, was taking the family on a long automobile tour. They lived in a shiny new trailer. Uncle Ely loved the outdoors, especially its animals, which he called “wild Americans.”

This morning they were in western Texas. The grass was dry and tall and it tickled Virginia’s nose, so that she thought she would have to sneeze. Some' how she knew that wouldn’t be a wise thing to do. Suddenly Billy Buck grabbed her arm.

“Sh'h'h'h!” warned Uncle Ely.

Over the top of the shrubs and brush that lined the trail to the water hole, they saw something strange. The brush was rattling and waving, and above it appeared a great set of animal horns, branched like the limbs of a tree.

“Look—antlers!” whispered Uncle Ely.

“What are antlers?” Ginger whispered back.

Buck answered her. As big brothers do, he want' ed to show her that he knew.

“They’re horns,” he whispered. “Deer horns. I’ve seen pictures of them.”

“That’s right,” said Uncle Ely.

One scrubby oak tree near the water hole had begun to turn a little brown. A few of its leaves had red tints, for autumn was approaching.

Suddenly, through the leaves of this tree, came the antlers. A huge buck deer thrust his head out and looked at the water. He was still for a few seconds, then he stepped out in full view.

What a picture he made!

Buck and Ginger held their breath, not daring even to whisper. Here was a real, live, wild deer, one of the finest of American animals. They knew he would be afraid of them, and would instantly dash away if he should catch their scent. That was why Uncle Ely had stationed them where the wind would not take the man-odor toward the water hole.

However, the buck waited cautiously before drink¬ ing. He lifted his head to scent the air delicately, thus making sure that no enemy was near enough to spring on him without warning.

Next he made a motion with his short bushy tail, shook his head and moved toward the water. Then came another surprise to the children.

Behind him in the brush appeared three beautiful does—female deer. They had remained out of sight until the male made sure that no enemy was near the water. When he signaled them with a snort and a wave of his tail, they came out of hiding.

The big fellow took a quick drink, then jumped nimbly onto the stream bank and looked all around. While each doe drank her fill, he stood guard, look¬ ing, sniffing. His great antlers were beautiful indeed.

'Took, there are six points on each side of his homsf 1 whispered Uncle Ely. "That makes twelve in all. A twelve-point buck! That’s a mighty fine animal.”

Couldn t we shoot him, if we had brought that big rifle of Dad s?” the boy whispered.

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THE DEER

“Yes. But it wouldn’t be any fun. We don’t need his meat or his skin. Why kill a beautiful creature without reason?’’

They watched the animals for several minutes. The deer did not suspect that they were being watched at first; but then the wind must have changed. All at once the four beasts lifted their noses, poised for just an instant, and then bounded away. It all happened so quickly that Ginger said afterward she could hardly see them go. Uncle Ely and the chib dren then started back to the highway, for they were hungry for breakfast. Mother greeted them from the trailer.

“It was better than a zoo, Mother!’’ exclaimed Buck. “The deer were wild, and one had antlers. He is called a buck, and he was grand! I’m glad the boys call me Buck, now. He was leader of the—’’

“Yes, and Mother,” Ginger interrupted, “on the ride back Uncle Ely told us all about wild deer. The baby deer are called fawns, and they are spotted, and they—”

The boy and girl told all that they could remem' ber of Uncle Ely’s chat and he kindly corrected them in a few places where they made mistakes. Here are some of the things that Buck and Ginger learned.

All male deer grow antlers, and shed them once a year. All deer are ruminants, which means that they swallow their food hastily, then later return it to their mouths for chewing. Deer run very fast, and are good jumpers, too. Bucks fight with their antlers to determine which shall be the master of the does. They fight enemies, such as lions, with their antlers and hoofs. Baby deer, called fawns, are spotted tan and white. This is called protective coloring, because enemies cannot easily see them hidden in the brush, leaves, and shadows. Man is the worst enemy of deer. He kills many of them needlessly. A natural enemy is the big mountain lion or panther, which kills many deer. There are several kinds of deer, in-

THE DEER eluding those called the white tail, the mule deer, the elk, and even the moose.

When breakfast was over Virginia and Buck asked Uncle Ely dozens of questions. Finally Ginger asked, “Will we see any more wild Americans, Uncle Ely? I mean, any more as pretty as the tan beauties?”

Uncle Ely smiled at her.

“Tan beauties! That's a good name for them,” he said. “Yes, we shall see many others. None will be more beautiful than the deer, but some will be even more interesting. I promise you that this will be an adventure tour.”

“Oh, good!” exclaimed Buck. “Adventures!”

Chapter II

THE ARMADILLO: An Armored Creature Early one morning Uncle Ely Blair called to the children, “Do you know what armor is?”

“Oh, yes!” Billy Buck answered. “The knights of old wore armor—queer-looking iron suits, like shells, that covered even the men's heads.”

“That's right,” said Uncle Ely. “A kind of shell, to keep the person inside from being hurt by enemies. Now, on our hike today, I hope to show you a little fellow wearing armor. He is no bigger than a pig. In fact, he looks very much like a pig.”

Ginger looked at Uncle Ely in surprise.

THE ARMADILLO

“Why, Uncle Ely!' 1 she exclaimed, “how can a lit¬ tle man in an armor look like a pig?"

Uncle Ely laughed heartily. “I didn't mean that; I meant to say that I am going to show you a little animal which lives in a hard shell. He makes us think of the armored soldiers of long ago. But come on, I'll show you."

Ginger and Buck and Uncle Ely started walking into the scrubby trees and grass, away from any road or house. They had walked for several minutes before they saw any animal; only birds circled above them. Presently Uncle Ely said, “Now look care¬ fully. Near here I saw several armored fellows not long ago. I think they have a den close by."

The three walked in a big circle, kicking in the grass and in piles of dead limbs and leaves, but they found nothing at first. After a while, Billy Buck ran off to one side and suddenly called, “Uncle Ely, come here, please! I have found a strange-looking ball. It is almost as large as a basketball, like the one we have at school."

“A ball?" cried Ginger, running to him. Uncle Ely joined them.

“Yes, you found him, Buck. This is the little ar> mored fellow.'

“But this doesn't look like a pig! I thought you said it would be a wild animal."

"This is it. I didn't tell you all about him. I just told you that he has a shell. His shell is made of curved pieces, neatly fitted together, so that they can be folded. Whenever the animal sees or hears an enemy, he may decide to fold up inside his shell. Then he becomes a round ball, and here it is.'

"Then the animal is inside, Uncle Ely?"

"Yes. See this oval pointed piece of shell? This is his head. It fits neatly into a groove, made especially for it, with the hard shell outside. His feet and tail are folded in, too. The shell on his back is made of nine hoops or bands, joined together, with larger pieces for the front and rear. They have all been drawn together to make the ball. Isn't it odd?"

"Yes, sir!” exclaimed Buck. "I never heard of any' thing like this."

"I never did, either," said Ginger.

They rolled the ball around, and it remained tight' ly closed. It could have been mistaken for a rock, or an old stump. The shell was dark brown and black. The children were greatly interested in it, but the animal refused to open his shell to let them see what he looked like inside.

THE ARMADILLO

“Come on, let’s go away,” suggested Uncle Ely. “He will not loosen his shell as long as we are here.”

They walked on a short distance. Uncle Ely looked at the children and held his finger over his mouth, signaling them to be quiet. They began to walk without rustling leaves and sticks. Uncle Ely was in the lead. He moved very slowly. Suddenly he stopped, and again motioned to the children to be very quiet. He knelt down so that he could whisper to them.

“Sh'h'h-h! Look right over there, through that green bush. Part the leaves quietly so you can see.”

Buck and Ginger slowly separated the leaves and peered through. In a little clearing not far away was a strangedooking family. A mother and four babies were nosing into the chips and leaves and grass.

The mother was no bigger than a small dog, and the babies were about the size of kittens. They had long pointed noses, short little legs with claws, and long tails. They had no hair or fur. But they had ar^ mor, as did the fellow who was shaped like a basket' ball.

These, however, were not rolled into balls. Their armor had been unfolded, and their bodies were long, much like pigs as Uncle Ely had said. They were also rooting in the ground for bits to eat, as pigs do. The children watched them for several minutes, then Buck forgot and spoke aloud. “Gee, Id like to catch one! 1 ’

Rustle-rustle-rustle\ The family was gone!

They didn’t curl into balls. They started running. Instantly Uncle Ely jumped out and gave chase. He crashed through the brush and leaves. In a moment, however, he called.

“Here is a baby one! Come and see it.” The chib dren hastened to him.

There, sure enough, was one of the babies, now curled into a ball no bigger than a large apple. Its shell was not hard to touch, as had been the shell on the grown animal. The baby’s shell was more like leather.

“What became of the others?” Ginger asked. “Why didn’t they roll up?”

“These animals have two ways to protect therm selves,” Uncle Ely explained. “They can run and hide, and they prefer to do that. Or they can quickly roll into balls. A few big animals, such as dogs and panthers, can tear into them, although it is hard to do. Most enemies cannot break through the shells, however.”

THE ARMADILLO

“Shall we take this one home with us?” Buck asked, pointing to the baby rolled into a ball.

“No. He does no harm. It would be cruel to take him into captivity, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” said Buck, instantly sorry.

The three hikers walked on and talked a great deal about these odd animals. Uncle Ely said that the little armored fellows are found only in Texas, and in the neighboring country of Mexico. They have come into Texas from Mexico, and have not yet spread to other states.

The children and their uncle were almost home again when Ginger suddenly thought of something.

“Uncle Ely, you forgot to tell us the little armored fellow’s name! What is he called?”

“Armadillo. Say it slowly: ar-ma-dilho. The name is as odd as the animal.”

The children practiced saying it. “What does the name mean?” Buck asked.

“It is a Spanish word, meaning little armored feh low,’ ” Uncle Ely explained as he smiled at the chih dren. “So you see, Ginger, I really had told you his name, after all.”

Chapter III THE GOPHER: An Animal with Pockets

Billy Buck Blair awoke in the family trailer, won' dering where they had stopped. He and Mary Vir¬ ginia had gone to bed early, and Father had driven on while they slept.

Now Buck sat up in his bunk and peered out the window. The sun was just beginning its day. The car and trailer, Buck discovered, were parked not far from a stream—a perfect place for a camp. There was a cleared spot for a yard, room for a campfire, in fact everything they needed. But right in the middle

THE GOPHER of their little yard were some peculiar mounds of dirt.

The mounds were fresh damp soil, not quite knee high. Buck stared at one of them, because he saw a hole beside it. Then something startled him.

All in an instant, more dirt was thrown up out of the hole, and he caught a glimpse of a gray, furry animal.

The boy made such a bustle and noise with his hurried dressing that he woke everybody. In two minutes he was outside, looking down the hole.

“Found a bear, young fellow?”

Buck jumped at the sound of Uncle Ely's voice. Uncle Ely had come outside, too, and was smiling down at his nephew.

“No—I don't know, sir. I don't know what it is.”

Uncle Ely squatted on his heels, cowboy fashion, and looked at the hole and mound of dirt.

“A gopher made that, Buck,” he explained.

“Oh, no, sir! It was an animal. I saw him throwing up dirt.”

Uncle Ely laughed heartily. “That's all right. The gopher is the animal you saw. That's what I meant.” “Oh.”

“Yes. He's down there, waiting for us to go away so he can throw up more dirt. He is afraid of us.”

“Does he live underground?" This question came from Ginger, who by this time had also dressed and hurried outside.

“Yes, Ginger, he does. Gophers are subterranean animals, which means they live under the ground. They are strange creatures, very destructive to grass, crops that the farmer grows, and almost every other kind of root. People call them the root-eaters."

“I never saw one," said Ginger.

“I just caught a glimpse," Buck explained. “I wish we could see him outside."

“After breakfast, I will ride over to the village here and get a trap," Uncle Ely promised. “A simple trap will catch him. The gopher is a very strange fellow, and I want you to become acquainted with him."

In the village near which the Blairs had camped for the night, the storekeeper told them that people had been trying to rid their farms of gophers. As he sold the Blairs a small wire trap, he explained to Un¬ cle Ely, Buck, and Ginger that the little furry pests cost the farmers thousands of dollars yearly, by bur¬ rowing in the land to eat the roots of growing crops.

Uncle Ely showed the children how to set the trap, then pushed it down in the gopher hole about as far as Ginger's hand could reach.

“Now let’s go away for an hour, and I’m sure we’ll have him,” Uncle Ely explained. “He will come to fill that opening to his hole, and be caught.”

Uncle Ely was right.

When they came back to the trap just before noon, a bundle of fur was in it. At first there appeared to be no eyes, ears or legs. But when removed from the trap, the bundle of fur took form.

The eyes of a gopher are very small and hard to find in the fur. Ears are very tiny, too. The tail is short but stubby, and the short little legs have long claws, especially the front legs.

“He is almost blind because he lives mostly under¬ ground and doesn’t have any light by which to see,” explained Uncle Ely. “He can hear better than his ears indicate. He sees and hears with his tail.”

"With his tail?" Buck and Ginger asked together. Even Mrs. Blair, who stood nearby, looked questioningly at Uncle Ely.

"Yes, with his tail. A gopher s tail is so sensitive that he can tell what kind of food it touches, and it aids in guiding him around his underground hallways. The scientists tell us his is a most unusual tail.

"I should think so!” agreed Mother.

"Look at his strong teeth, used for cutting roots, and the long sharp front claws used for digging. He digs dirt, then pushes it up with his shoulders, to make these mounds you see.”

"But here, children, is the strangest thing of all. Did you know that the gopher is an animal with pockets?”

"Yes, he is. Beside each jaw is a little pocket in his fur, just like the hip pocket in your trousers, Buck. It is big enough for you to put your thumb in, and about one inch deep in a big gopher. See?”

It was indeed a strange thing—a furry little beast with two cheek pockets. Uncle Ely explained that he carried food there, from wherever he found it, down his long hallways to his nest.

The gopher nest is made of grass several feet under

THE GOPHER ground. The babies are bom there. They drink their mother’s milk, as kittens do. Soon they are able to hunt roots for themselves, and have little pockets of their own in which to carry the bits of food that they gnaw.

“I just thought of something else queer,” said Un¬ cle Ely. “Did you people know that this gopher, which is not much bigger than my hand, is related to those big fine deer we saw the other day?”

Nobody answered at first. Then Bob Blair, Uncle Ely’s brother, spoke. “How do you explain that, Ely?”

“Well, they’re both mammals. A mammal is any animal that feeds its young with mother’s milk, as a cow does. The big deer, weighing three hundred pounds or more, is a mammal; and so is this little furry underground creature, the gopher.”

“Goodness!” exclaimed Ginger. There surely is a lot to learn about wild animals.”

“Yes, Sis, but it’s fun to know,” said Buck. “Uncle Ely, when can we find something else wild?”

Chapter IV THE GRASSHOPPER: A Flying Pest

Buck and Ginger were riding in the front seat of the car with Uncle Ely, who was driving. The afternoon was hot, and Buck was almost asleep. Ginger was daydreaming. Then there was a sudden noise. It came as a slap and a splatter all in one. Something had hit the windshield.

“Oh!” gasped Ginger, staring at the ugly spot on the glass.

Buck was instantly awake.

“Nothing but a grasshopper,” he explained. “He made a nose dive into our windshield, and splattered.”

THE GRASSHOPPER

The car and trailer roared on for a half mile when Mother Blair, who was in the back seat, suddenly cried out. The children turned to look at her.

“There's one in here now!” Mother cried. “Two of them. Fan them out, son.”

The insects hopped up and out the car window. Others could be seen outside.

“Look,” Ginger pointed, “they're flying. I thought grasshoppers hopped. I didn't know they could fly, as birds do.”

Uncle Ely answered her with a chuckle, “Surely they can fly. Just look at them. Why, we're in a swarm of them!” He leaned down a bit to peer out through the windshield at the sky.

“They look like butterflies. See that great big one with the lacy wings!” exclaimed Ginger.

More grasshoppers were splattering against 'the windshield. Mother quickly closed the windows to keep them out of the car. Uncle Ely was muttering to himself, and staring at the sky again. “Millions of them,” he was saying, “millions, and getting thicker.”

Everybody began to look at the sky. The travelers suddenly remembered that they had been moving through a swarm of grasshoppers for several mim utes, and the swarm was getting thicker. Uncle Ely drove off the road and stopped the car. Let s get out and look,” he suggested.

He and the children stepped out of the sedan doors; then, with various exclamations, they hastened back inside again. The flying insects had appeared unafraid of them; some had crashed right into them, and were now striking the car from every direction.

Suddenly they heard a shout from the outside.

"Say, up there!" it was Father Blair's voice. "What is this? Can't a fellow take a nap without having you run into beehives?"

Father had been napping in the trailer, and when it stopped he was awakened.

"They aren't bees. But get your head back in and shut the window, before the trailer is full of them." Uncle Ely shouted through the whirring of the grasshopper wings. In a moment Father was in the sedan seat with Mother, as interested as the others had been.

"What do you make of it, Ely?" he asked, in a worried tone.

"Nothing to make of it. Just grasshoppers, and more grasshoppers."

"But I never knew they came in such hordes," Mother declared.

THE GRASSHOPPER

“Oh, yes, they certainly do! This will probably get worse.”

It did get worse. Within five minutes, the sky was darkened by the invading insects, and they were settling down, too. There was no counting them, no guessing their numbers.

Soon the fields near the highway were alive with the pests. The fence wires were covered with them. The fence posts were “working” on every side, with grasshoppers on top of grasshoppers.

The car was covered. The pavement was “working” like the fence posts. The sun was almost invisi¬ ble, because the sky was filled with the flying crea¬ tures.

The travelers sat and stared. Buck and Ginger were frightened, and Mother herself was quite alarmed. Uncle Ely looked at her and said, “Nothing to be afraid of. They don't bother people.”

“But—what do they want, Uncle Ely?” Buck asked.

“Food. They're hungry, very hungry. They'll eat almost anything; plants, trees, even posts and hoe handles, and clothing, grass, flowers, anything! I've seen them like this only a few times in my life. Some years they are very bad, then we won't have many for several years. Most of the western states have invasions like this at times.

“It’s very bad, really, because they will destroy ev¬ ery crop in sight, and the farmers lose thousands, even millions of dollars. Half an hour from now that field you see will be stripped clean.”

“Goodness!” Mother exclaimed softly.

Nobody was smiling now. Ginger looked at her uncle.

“Are they—are they wild animals, Uncle Ely?” she asked.

“Well, yes. Yes, they are. We don’t ordinarily think of them as animals, but as insects, but they are wild just the same. I’d rather have a dozen mountain lions on my farm than to have these flying enemies.”

“I never knew before that a grasshopper could do any harm,” Billy Buck ventured, greatly interested.

“A grasshopper can’t, Buck. But billions of grass' hoppers can. They are destructive through force of numbers. Numbers, remember that—not one, or one thousand, or even one million; but billions and bil¬ lions. Farmers can fight them with poison, and with traps, and other devices, but men can’t do much to ward off such hordes of flying enemies as we see today.

THE GRASSHOPPER

“I have seen grasshoppers pile up against walls and fences like snowdrifts in winter. Once in a western city I saw them piled waist high on downtown side¬ walks, where they had hit the sides of skyscrapers and fallen there in an ugly, writhing mass. I have seen them so thick that their greasy bodies made rails slippery and stopped trains. Even now, it would be unsafe to drive on this pavement, because they are so numerous our tires would skid on them.

“I am glad you are having this experience, sad as it is for our farmer folk and our flower gardeners near¬ by. Not many people know that grasshoppers can come in such numbers. A grasshopper usually is re¬ garded as a creature in a fairy tale, a friendly old fel¬ low who loafs and plays the fiddle all day. Some of them, with their wings spread, are beautiful enough to be in fairyland; but generally they are just destruc¬ tive pests. In a little while we can drive on. The sky is much lighter now, and the swarm is moving. But you have seen something important today.”

Chapter V THE PACK RAT: The Trader

Ginger Blair awoke early one morning in the trailer and stretched and yawned. She sat up in bed, then suddenly she called, “Mother, where’s my wrist watch?”

Mother awoke then. She told Ginger that she had not seen the watch.

“But it was right here under my bunk at bedtime. I put it there very carefully, on the floor. Now it’s gone.”

The talking woke everyone, and because Ginger still did not find her watch, all the family began to search for it.

THE PACK RAT

No one could find it. In a little while, however, Uncle Ely spoke. “Who put this silk stocking in my coat pocket?” he asked.

“Not I,” said Ginger, and every one else said, “Not I.” Father was smiling. He thought the children must have been playing jokes. In a moment, how¬ ever, he too called out.

“Here’s your watch, Sister, inside of my vest. But my fountain pen is gone! What is this, anyway? Is somebody trying to play tricks on us?”

Then Uncle Ely began to chuckle, and everybody looked at him as if he were guilty. When they did so, he laughed.

“Don’t look at me,” he said, still laughing. “I’m not the joker. But I think I know who it was. It wasn’t a member of the family, either.”

“Then who could it be?” demanded Mother. “We are strangers here, just camping. I don’t believe there is anybody near, not even a house in sight.”

“Never mind where we are. We have neighbors. One of them is a little fellow with a long tail. He has a rabbit-like face, large ears, and a sleek coat.”

“It’s an animal, isn’t it, Uncle Ely?” cried Ginger. “But what kind of animal could be stealing watches and fountain pens?”

“Yes, and putting silk stockings in people’s coats? added Father.

“A pack rat could,” said Uncle Ely.

“A—a what?”

“Pack rat. Sometimes it is called a trade rat.”

“Never heard of him,” Father declared.

“Yes, you have, but you’ve forgotten. We used to see them when we were kids, Bob. But your children never have seen them, probably because they have been reared in an eastern city.”

“Tell us about him, Uncle Ely,” both children urged.

While the two men broke dead wood from bushes nearby to build a campfire for breakfast, Uncle Ely talked about the strange rat which is in all truth one of the most mysterious creatures in the American wilderness.

“ Tack’ is a western word, meaning to carry,” Uncle Ely began. “We have pack horses, for instance. Well, sir, the pack rat is called that because he car¬ ries or packs things wherever he goes. He is not par¬ ticular about what he carries—just anything that is shiny or small.

“We also call him trade rat, because he will trade one thing for another. If he is carrying a spoon from

THE PACK RAT somebody’s kitchen—as he is likely to be doing if he enters a house—he may see a belt buckle that he likes better. Right then he will drop the spoon and pick up the buckle. A few feet farther on, he may trade the buckle for a pencil. You saw how he traded your watch for your father’s fountain pen, Ginger.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, now I want to find what he did with the fountain pen. I think we may locate it, too.”

“How, Uncle Ely?”

“See that mound of sticks and thorny things over there, under that bush? That looks very much like a pack rat nest. If our visitor didn’t trade the pen off before he got there, it will be in the nest. We will dig into it and see, after breakfast.”

The two children talked about pack rats during the meal. They learned from Uncle Ely that these rats are common in the Southwest, that they are about the size of big house rats, but that they do not destroy much valuable property, and they can be tamed as pets.

When the dishes were all washed and the campfire carefully put out, Uncle Ely took a small shovel from the car and dug into the nest under the bushes. One of the rats was found, but he promptly hurried away.

There were many little underground trails or tunnels, and the doors or outlets of these were all carefully protected by clumps of dead cactus thorns which the rats had placed there. Uncle Ely explained that these thorns would keep coyotes, hawks, and other anfi mals from capturing the rats.