Article November 28, 1903 Issue

Guarding the Rear

WILLIAM P. MC KENZIE.

People are to-day becoming more and more interested in "the kindred of the wild," and books written by observers of the action of the creatures that live at large in wood and field, are widely read. Once I visited such an observer who for eighteen years had lived as a hermit in his cabin in the woods. The birds knew him as a friend, and many a visitor to his retreat had seen numbers of them perch upon his hand fearlessly, as if they understood the kindliness of his speech to them. His story about some squirrels he knew was interesting. I had known that larger beasts of the wild would maintain a division of territory, even as Indian hunters and trappers in the north were accustomed to do; but I did not know that the common red squirrel kept an allotted range, and maintained therein rights of sole dominion. This observer has become satisfied that even the squirrel has his "place," and does not trespass upon the domain of others nor permit them to trespass upon his. Thus he may garner his food supply without fear of finding his toil utilized by some non-strenuous relative; and that others allocated each in his own district must there either labor or starve.

One particular red squirrel had in his demesne the dooryard of Mr. Walton's cabin. His fighting spirit and astuteness gained for him the name Bismarck, and often his human friend and admirer left for him part of a loaf of bread that he might share with the birds. This abundant provender drew the attention of some crows who discussed the situation in solemn conclave, and then in a group flew down to share in the benefit. They listened, in a circle, to the violent objections and objurgations made by the squirrel; then one ruffled its feathers, half spread its wings, and made as if to attack him. He swiftly charged, but the crow leaped up, using both wings and feet, and his enemy sped beneath him, while the other crows pounced on the bread, and though unable to carry it off, had broken large pieces from it before the red fury could turn himself about and come at them. This trick served the wise crows on several occasions, and Bismarck never seemed to discover how to get the better of them. Two sons came to his charge that year, when the mother's care was finished. One was well-grown and lusty, and him he assigned to a certain part of the wood. The other was small, and soon was named Tiny by the owner of the cabin. It seemed that to him had been assigned the territory including the dooryard, perhaps in order that he might gain strength and growth from the food supply so often found there. The crows noticed the new tenant, and, it may be, despised him for his size; but they did not measure his spirit. When they saw him one day enjoying the bread put out for his use, they came down and made their circle on the ground about him. Then the appointed one came forward with half-spread wings as if to make the attack; but more swiftly than thought the squirrel himself attacked the crows behind him, who were minded to seize upon the bread so soon as he would charge the one in front. Taken so unexpectedly they were "sore discomfited," and all retired to the trees to discuss the matter in parliamentary form. They made a second campaign, but by this time the tiny squirrel had discovered his ability, and so swift was his attack that the crows made haste to escape in order to save feathers enough to fly with. That was the final victory. Tiny was not interfered with further, and, as his father had no doubt calculated, he became lusty and strong like his brother, for he fed without vexation on the bread the friendly man supplied.

It hardly seems fair to attach a moral to this quaint story; yet if a moral suggests how we can re-mind ourselves and do better on occasions, it may be legitimate. When we are, so to speak, surrounded by conditions, all of which claim to be able to deprive us of the health, or happiness, or the supply of good to which we have a right, do we always discern how to scatter the whole brood? Are we not impelled sometimes to direct our efforts against what is really innocuous, and then find that we have been invaded by what should have first resisted? Sometimes a personality will parade before us insultingly, and lead us to a blind attack; and then we find that anger, wrath, malice, evil-speaking, and revenge have entered like foes in the rear and stolen from us our good, deprived us of the daily bread of love on which we might have fed, could we have seen where was the real danger. So I do not know that it is at all out of place for us to consider the ways of this tiny one of the creatures, behold how he exercised wisdom, and be wise in similar conditions, which may occur for us in the unseen. It is certainly important to discern the point of real danger, and that for the Scientist is not where is made the clamor of threatened attack, or where is seen the obtrusive and insolent personality, but where may enter from the rear, or seem to arise within the heart such evil thoughts and motives as may defile the man, and make of the sweetly cleansed mentality a later condition worse than that from which he was healed when first he felt the beneficent action of Truth and Love.

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