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# 2019-08-30 - Discovery by John. K. Terres | |
Someone bought this book for me from a thrift store in Roseburg for | |
$0.75. The editor, John K. Terres, invited living naturalists to | |
share stories of formative experiences and peak moments in their | |
lives as naturalists. 36 out of 40 naturalists responded. I wish | |
John Muir had been alive at that time. Reading the stories, i | |
noticed several patterns. Most of the stories revealed an awareness | |
of rampant habitat destruction, species extinction, and general | |
misuse of the planet Earth by humanity. | |
"Each person's necessary path, though as obscure and apparently | |
uneventful as that of a beetle in the grass, is the way to the | |
deepest joys they are susceptible of. Though they converse only with | |
moles and fungi, and disgrace their relatives, it is no matter if | |
that person knows that is steel to their flint." --Henry David | |
Thoreau | |
# Chapter 1, Wildlife wonders of Texas by Clarence Cottam | |
Each fact and facet of nature discovered and understood becomes a | |
window through which man may discover the infinite. An ancient | |
Persian poet said that if he had only two loaves of bread he should | |
sell one and buy hyacinths for his soul. Humanity needs more | |
hyacinths and understanding of life and its purpose. In this | |
troubled world mankind needs the peace and serenity that can be found | |
in nature. | |
I have sensed the joy that comes from exploration, discovery, and the | |
feeling of being myself a part of nature. | |
# Chapter 5, A great naturalist and the long-tailed tree mouse by | |
# Walter P. Taylor | |
> Something hidden, go and find it | |
> Go and look behind the ranges. | |
> Something lost behind the ranges | |
> Lost and waiting for you. Go! | |
To one obsessed with a desire to look behind the ranges, and see what | |
is really there, the life of a field naturalist, zoologist, and | |
ecologist is pleasant, satisfying, and in short, fun. In traveling | |
about in most of the United States, Canada, the Pacific, parts of | |
Asia, and the Near East, i have had an unusual opportunity to read as | |
best as i could at first hand, a good many pages in the book of | |
nature. Through the kindly indulgence and encouragement of my | |
understanding parents, and the boundless vitality and unbelievable | |
industry of my first science teacher, a great naturalist, the late | |
Joseph Grinnell, i became inspired with a keen desire to become a | |
biologist. | |
After these early experiences with Grinnell, there was never any | |
serious question in my mind what my vocation would be. My own life | |
history has exemplified a sort of progression in enthusiasms. I have | |
been, at various times, passionately interested in birds, mammals, | |
forest, grasslands, camping, travel, books, biological field work, | |
religion, the humanities, civics, conservation, and even politics--i | |
have been broadly concerned with the interrelationships between man | |
and other living things, both plants and animals. More than that, i | |
have been attracted by the manifestations of the great stream of | |
matter and energy which flows restlessly through man, his living | |
associates, and, in fact, through all of nature and the universe. | |
In 1890 a new species of Phenacomys called longicaudus, because of | |
its unusually long tail, was described by Dr. W. P. True in the | |
Proceedings of the United States National Museum. This was on the | |
basis of a specimen taken at Marshfield, Coos County, Oregon. And so | |
we learned about the long-tailed tree mouse, unmistakably a | |
Phenacomys, but one whose habits notably differed from all of the | |
others. For, of all the members of this great subfamily, Phenacomys | |
longicaudus was unique in its choice of trees in which to live. | |
# Chapter 19, Escape at three arch rocks by Olaus J. Murie | |
Olaus J. Murie, Director of the Wilderness Society, lives at Moose, | |
Wyoming. He was born at Moorhead, Minnesota, March 1, 1889, and | |
attended Pacific University at Forest Grove, Oregon, where he majored | |
in zoology. He traveled on expeditions for the Carnegie Museum, | |
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to Labrador and Hudson Bay and later served | |
in World War I as a balloon observer. In 1920 he was sent to Alaska | |
by the U.S. Biological Survey to study Alaska-Yukon caribou. He | |
retired from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in 1949 to accept the | |
directorship of the Wilderness Society, and in that year, Pacific | |
University conferred on him an honorary degree of Doctor of Science. | |
Dr. Murie is an author and artist who has illustrated his own | |
books--The Elk of North America; A Field Guide to Animal Tracks; The | |
Alaska-Yukon Caribou, and others. Among his honors are the Aldo | |
Leopold Medal of the Wildlife Society and the Audubon Medal of the | |
National Audubon Society, awarded him for "distinguished service to | |
conservation." | |
Escape At Three Arch Rocks | |
"Don't you want to go with me to inspect Three Arch Rocks?" | |
Since I was young, and eager for anything that promised adventure, my | |
response was automatic. "Of course!" | |
L. Alva Lewis was in 1913 in charge of the federal refuges in Oregon, | |
and I was working for William L. Finley, then State Game Warden and | |
also one of the foremost lecturers on birds and a great | |
conservationist. Lewis and I speedily made our arrangements, and on | |
July 1, a motor launch took us out from the nearby coast town and | |
helped us get ashore on Three Arch Rocks with our equipment and a | |
small skiff. They would call for us again in a matter of five days. | |
Three Arch Rocks, comprising a group of three small rocks islets off | |
the Oregon coast, rising several hundreds of feet into the air, all | |
made up of cliffs and ledges where sea birds nested, is a federal | |
bird refuge. Our camp was on a broad shelf well above high-tide mark | |
on the outer of these three islets. We had sleeping bags, food and | |
water, and all necessary equipment for photographing and banding the | |
sea birds, which were there in thousands. | |
We didn't try to go anywhere that first day but fixed up our camp and | |
explored around the camp island. Next morning early, with our light | |
skiff, we eagerly set off for the second rock, with all our | |
photographic and bird banding gear. There, on a low rocky shore was | |
a colony of sea lions also. We hauled our boat well up and proceeded | |
to photograph sea lions, murres, cormorants, and the clownish little | |
puffins which had their burrows in the sod on the flat places. | |
Time has a way of flying when you are engrossed in interesting | |
subjects. We had placed aluminum bands on the legs of many nestling | |
birds, we had taken numerous photographs, and had climbed over most | |
of the fascinating island, until it was way past noon. Then I | |
noticed the weather. A west wind had sprung up, and there was | |
already a heavy sea running. | |
"Hey, Lewis, we've got to get out of here right now; look at that | |
water!" | |
My friend Lewis had some kind of hip ailment and used crutches. He | |
got around very gamely but very slowly. We managed to get down to | |
our boat and take off. This was in the lee of the island so was not | |
very difficult. We pulled around and approached our campsite on the | |
outer rock. I was dismayed to see that there, on the windward side, | |
the water was already rough. Something had to be done right away if | |
we were to do anything at all! | |
"I'll back you up to the rock on one of the incoming swells," I said; | |
"then you get out on the rock as fast as you can and I will pull away | |
as the swell comes down. Then I'll come in on a later swell and hop | |
out with the painter [1] in my hand." | |
[1] A rope, or "tether," usually at the bow, for tying a boat fast to | |
a shore-point; also often used as a towline. --The Editor. | |
It was a tense moment, choosing the swell to ride in on, but I | |
finally took a chance and came in to the rock. Lewis started to | |
climb out, but because of his infirmity he was a little slow. He was | |
halfway out, partly on the rock, partly in the boat, when to my | |
consternation I realized that I was lingering too long. The ocean | |
swell was about to fall away in the steep drop down the cliff, but I | |
couldn't pull away, and as I waited for him to get out I knew it was | |
too late. | |
The water dropped suddenly, the stern hung up on a rock, and the boat | |
with all its contents was catapulted into the sea. The last I heard | |
as I went down was a loud, earnest curse from the direction of the | |
rock. | |
There must have been a strong undertow, for when I came to the | |
surface I found myself, fortunately, far out from the dangerous cliff | |
line. In the meantime the next wave had shoved Lewis safely up on | |
the camp ledge. | |
All around me our equipment bobbled, still afloat. I fastened one of | |
the life preservers to the boat, swam around and gathered cameras and | |
tripods, and tied them to the straps of the life preserver. All the | |
bird banding records for the day, written on cards, were floating | |
about me, and I gathered these all into a pack and shoved them inside | |
my shirt. Lewis's crutches and one oar I stored under a seat so they | |
wouldn't float away. Then I climbed into the submerged boat, which | |
let me down to about my waist in water, but saved me from continuous | |
swimming. With one oar used as a paddle, I worked the boar still | |
farther out from the dangerous landing place. I knew I couldn't make | |
a landing with a boat full of water. | |
Up to this time my only feeling was one of chagrin at having let this | |
thing happen, and I was very busy taking care of the equipment as | |
well as I could, getting away from the dangerous waters. I shouted | |
something apologetic to Lewis, crouched there on the ledge, and then | |
paddled out to sea, where the waves were now large, but at least were | |
not breaking. I remember a silly grin on my face as I looked up at | |
my partner, and felt a deep gratitude that he had landed safely on | |
the rock. | |
But a change came over me now. I had done all the things I could | |
think of, and now I sat there, out in the growing storm, looking | |
about me at a hostile sea and longingly surveying the rocks about | |
which the waves were already lashing in white foam. For the first | |
time a great fear swept over me. What could I do, out here with a | |
half-sunken boat? | |
I decided to have a look at the lee side of the island, in the hope | |
that there would be a little cove or a comparatively smooth shore | |
line; any way to get my feet on solid rock somewhere. I laboriously | |
paddled around, well out from the island, but found that the boat, | |
under water, would not automatically stay upright. As each big wave | |
came, I leaned against it and then leaned the other way as it passed | |
by. Thus I managed to keep things right side up and came in sight of | |
the lee side of the island. But considerable time must have elapsed. | |
The storm had increased in vigor, and there was now "white water" | |
all along the rocks on the lee side too. Now I really was scared, | |
nearly panicky. I looked at the rough water all about me. I looked | |
at the mainland, about a mile away, where huge breakers were pounding | |
on the shore. There was not much choice, even if I could last long | |
enough to get in where the breakers were. I began to shiver, not | |
such much from the ice water I believe as from the emotions that were | |
now welling up inside. I didn't know what to do. | |
Then suddenly a thought came to me. This bird reservation is known | |
as Three Arch Rocks. That means that each rock has a tunnel through | |
it, formed by the pounding of the waves over the centuries. Inside | |
these arches or tunnels, the water would be going up and down as on | |
the outside, but surely the interior of the island would not be | |
receiving the full brunt of the storm and probably there would be no | |
white water. At any rate it was something to do. | |
I required several acres of water surface on which to turn about, and | |
it was hard to keep the boat going on any steady course because it | |
was a foot or more below the surface, but I headed for the opening of | |
the cavern in the middle rock. By some miracle I hit the opening | |
squarely. | |
Here I came into a different world. A great avalanche of murres came | |
flying out from the cavern at my approach, startled from their | |
nesting ledges. Many of them hit the water before they gained the | |
entrance, and I could see them swimming by me. How I envied them | |
their abilities! | |
How I would have liked to take to the air at that moment, but I | |
continued on into the archway, and sure enough, the water rose and | |
fell along the cliffs, but in a serene and reasonable fashion. I | |
looked around me and picked a ledge that the swells neared each time, | |
and each time that I went up in the boat on one, I placed a piece of | |
equipment up on the ledge, until all was safe. I planned to leap | |
then, onto the ledge, holding the painter in my hand. However, I had | |
become very stiff, and found myself ignobly crawling out onto the | |
rocky shelf on my hands and knees! | |
But, I had the boat painter in my hand, and after watching the action | |
of the water for a while, when the boat came up on one of the waves, | |
I took a tight turn of the rope around a projecting rock and held on. | |
As the water went down, the boat was tipped, and all the water | |
poured out. When the next wave came in, it left the boat high and | |
dry on the level with me. Once more I had a buoyant empty craft with | |
which to try to overcome our disaster. | |
On one of the trips of the boat on an upswell, I jumped in, gathered | |
in all the equipment, and started out of the cave. "Now stop me!" I | |
thought exultingly. I felt a confidence which was probably not | |
entirely warranted by the situation, but getting into a dry boat | |
encouraged me so that I felt I could tackle anything. I knew very | |
well I could no longer land at our camp, but I got out both oars and | |
headed for the most likely place on the lee side of our camp island. | |
It was a furious scene, a turmoil of immense waves, dark clouds | |
scudding before the wind, and night coming on. But, I had a | |
manageable boat now and bent every ounce of strength to the oars, | |
studied the shore line to get the behavior of the water lashing upon | |
it, then pulled along on an incoming wave. With the painter in my | |
hand I leaped out upon the store. I was standing on solid rock, and | |
on our camp island too! I drew the boat up as high as I could, with | |
a little premonition that it would not escape high tide, but it was | |
the best I could do single-handed. | |
A high rocky ridge separated me from the camp side of the island, and | |
I started climbing. By relating in short trips I finally arrived on | |
top with all the gear. Now I remembered that the cliff leading down | |
to the campsite was one which had been scaled before only once, by a | |
famous ornithologist-mountaineer. But such was my enthusiasm and | |
exultation at this time that in the dusky light, I brought down over | |
that cliff crutches, cameras, and tripods, by relays! | |
But first of all I looked down toward our camp. I saw Lewis there, | |
stopping over, working at something. I found out later that he was | |
preparing match heads for setting off flashlights that night, to try | |
to attract the attention of people on the mainland, even though the | |
nearest settlement was around a bend of the coast, miles away. He | |
had also been firing his pistol in a desperate effort to get | |
attention, and I had not even heard the shots. I also learned that | |
without his crutches he had managed to get to the top of the island | |
to see where I had gone. At that particular time I must have been in | |
the tunnel, for he saw no sign of me and assumed I had drowned. | |
Now suddenly there I was, yelling at him in a very hilarious voice | |
and waving his crutches at him from the top of the ridge! | |
The smile on his face when he looked up and saw me was something I | |
shall always remember! | |
# Chapter 22, Search for the rare ivorybill by Don Eckleberry | |
The woods, she said, were full of "hants." But the only spirit i | |
could hear was the voice of doom for this entire natural community, | |
epitomized by that poor lone ivorybill (which should have been | |
feeding well-grown young these days, had she a mate) and vocalized by | |
the shrill squeals of the donkey engine which worked all night | |
bringing out the logs. | |
# Chapter 26, On becoming a naturalist by F. Fraser Darling | |
This period of life was a dangerous one, in that "shades of the | |
prison house gather round the growing child." There was the constant | |
pressure from elders: "Yes, but what are you going to do seriously in | |
life?" And the growing child had lengthened their legs to the extent | |
that they could get father afield. Northern moors and mounting | |
weather disturbed the spirit again and drew one on. A cliff of sea | |
birds on a northern island was almost a shattering experience in its | |
utter reality of light, smell, and a composite sound as of praise. | |
("But what are you going to do seriously in life?" had so little to | |
do with reality.) | |
# Chapter 33, The marsh that came back by Ira N. Gabrielson | |
Dr. Ira N. Gabrielson, President of the Wildlife Management | |
Institute, Washington, D.C., was born in Sioux Rapids, Iowa, | |
September 27, 1889. He was graduated from Morningside College in | |
1912, and after teaching high school biology for three years, he | |
entered the federal service with the U.S. Biological Survey, now | |
called the Fish and Wildlife Service. In his work as a government | |
field biologist he became recognized as an authority on birds, | |
mammals, and plants, particularly of the western United States. In | |
1935 he was named Director of the newly created Fish and Wildlife | |
Service, from which he retired in 1946 to accept his present post. | |
He has traveled extensively in North America and is noted as a keen | |
field naturalist and capable administrator of wildlife resources. In | |
1936 Oregon State College conferred on him an honorary degree of | |
Doctor of Science; in 1941, Morningside College honored him with an | |
LL.D. He is the author or coauthor of six books of which one of his | |
latest is The Birds of Alaska. | |
The Marsh That Came Back | |
It is a terrible thing to see a great marsh die. It is one of the | |
most heartening experiences to see such a marsh, once dead, restored | |
to life. Two of the unforgettable experiences of my life were | |
watching both happen to one of the great natural marshes of North | |
America--Malheur Lake in eastern Oregon. | |
It was late summer in 1919 when I first saw Malheur in all its glory. | |
The marsh was not completely full of water, but there was enough so | |
that I could see great expanses of open water from Cole Island, a | |
point which I reached almost dry-shod by carefully picking my way | |
around the wettest spots in the shallow channels between the island | |
and the shore. It is impossible to forget the impression when, | |
looking through my binoculars, I swept the great expanse of water | |
ahead of me. | |
It was dotted, and in many places almost covered with birds. Great | |
fleets of white pelicans outnumbered all other birds, including | |
scattered family flocks of Canada geese and the snaky black | |
cormorants sliding along through the water, sometimes with only their | |
heads and necks showing above the surface. Herons of many kinds | |
stood in the shallows, some fishing, others just enjoying a siesta. | |
Ducks were there in myriads--mallards, pintails, gadwalls, and | |
cinnamon teal, red-heads, and ruddy ducks. These seemed to be the | |
dominant species at the time, although scattered among them I saw | |
canvasbacks, widgeons, and green-winged teal. Coots and Florida | |
gallinules were visible in any direction I turned my glasses. Shore | |
birds were more difficult to see, although the taller, long-legged | |
avocets, stilts, and curlews were conspicuous even among the more | |
numerous ducks. It took real searching to find the smaller fry among | |
the shore birds, but they were there too. One had only to turn his | |
binocular on the nearer mud flats or shallow bars to see western and | |
pectoral sandpipers, Wilson's phalaropes, and many others. This was | |
truly a great bird concentration, the first of such magnitude that I | |
had ever seen. I stood on the island drinking in the great living | |
spectacle before me until it was too dark to see clearly. This was | |
Malheur, the Malheur about which Bill Finley, Oregon's great bird | |
conservationist, had written so vividly years before. But it was a | |
Malheur that was doomed. | |
It was doomed partly by drought and partly by the increasing | |
diversion of its life-giving water. Malheur Lake is the sump formed | |
from the runoff from two rivers, the Blitzen from the south and the | |
Silvies from the north. The Silvies had long been cut off during the | |
summer, but the spring flood waters from both rivers together with | |
the flow of the Blitzen were enough to maintain the marsh water at | |
some level, except in periods of the driest years. | |
With the increasing diversion of water from the Blitzen to establish | |
irregular water rights, Malheur began to shrink. It was not a sudden | |
and merciful death; it was slow and agonizing, with occasional years | |
in which the patient showed some improvement. But in the early | |
1930's when the great drought struck, Malheur became mostly a memory. | |
By midsummer each ear, it was little more than an alkali flat; in | |
the wetter years, when a little more water reached the lake, there | |
might be a stinking mudhole, but this was only a remnant of a once | |
great natural resource. The birds were gone, together with all the | |
other life. As the lake shrank, the crowded fishes and frogs | |
provided a feast for the birds that lived on them, for the birds had | |
a concentrated food supply until the final catastrophe. Then the | |
oxygen content of the lake became so low that the fishes died by | |
thousands and tens of thousands. Now there was no more food, and the | |
birds were forced to go elsewhere. It was a tragedy to watch, the | |
dwindling of the birds as one area of marsh habitat after another | |
died from lack of water. Many of the aquatic plants were tenacious, | |
and only a little would start them growing again, but the water never | |
lasted long enough to really revive most of them. Gradually the area | |
in which plants disappeared widened and became more and more desolate | |
until those of us who had known and loved Malheur avoided the place | |
almost as one of pestilence. | |
In those years, every conservationist who lived in Oregon had the | |
restoration of Malheur Lake high on their priority list, although | |
hopes were almost at the vanishing point. When the opportunity came | |
to make recommendations to the President's Committee on Wildlife | |
Restoration, everyone, including Bill Finley and Stanley Jewett, | |
another Oregon conservationist who had long fought to save Malheur | |
Lake, made it the first consideration of any restoration program | |
attempted in Oregon. To do that required buying the "P" Ranch that | |
controlled the flow of the Blitzen River. The great "P" Ranch, | |
however, had also fallen on evil days in the drought years and was | |
not a money-making proposition. | |
In some almost miraculous way, the U.S. Biological Survey got enough | |
money to buy the entire ranch. I vividly remember the excitement in | |
the Portland office of that agency when the telegram arrived from Jay | |
N. "Ding" Darling, then Chief of the Survey, saying that the ranch | |
had been acquired, and that we were authorized to start the water | |
flowing back into the lake. There were rumors that there would be | |
opposition to it from some of the lake-bed squatters, but Stan Jewett | |
and I started for the "P" Ranch, got the keys, and opened the gate on | |
the main diversion dam above the lake. For both of us it was a | |
moment of tremendous satisfaction to see the water flowing into the | |
channel that led to the thirsty lake bed. | |
Then came the anticlimax. The water did not take too long to | |
traverse the few miles of channel that lay between this last dam and | |
the lake, but when it got to the lake bed it disappeared. It ran for | |
days, and the days stretched into weeks, before the great mass of | |
thoroughly dried-out peat of the lake bed had soaked up enough so | |
that we could see water in the deepest of its great weathered cracks. | |
Long before spring the water commenced to show in places, and it had | |
spread over a considerable area of the marsh that first summer. | |
If it had been a heartbreaking thing to see Malheur die, it was an | |
exhilarating experience to see how quickly it could come back. There | |
must have been, in spite of the long years of drought, some plant | |
roots there with life in them. It is difficult otherwise to account | |
for the big bunches of cattails, tules, and other emergent plants | |
that suddenly sprang up. The ground must also have been full of | |
viable seeds of the submerged water plants because by the end of the | |
first summer the lake had become almost as full of sago pondweed and | |
other choice duck foods as it had been in the days before the lake | |
disappeared. The water life which still existed in the Blitzen | |
Valley reappeared in the lake, and soon frogs and fishes became | |
numerous again. Within two or three years all birds that formerly | |
nested at Malheur had returned. The great squadrons of snow and | |
Canada geese and myriads of ducks that had stopped there before it | |
dried up returned, and Malheur again became a great marsh, teeming | |
and throbbing with life as it had been before its destruction. It | |
was a never-to-be-forgotten lesson of the power of man to destroy, an | |
also of the power of man--with the help of nature--to restore. | |
author: Terres, John K. | |
LOC: QL50 .T4 | |
tags: book,non-fiction,outdoor | |
title: Discovery | |
# Tags | |
book | |
non-fiction | |
outdoor |