SB 2bD Sbfl GIFT OF Class of 1887 THE BUTTERFLY TREES LUCIA SHEPARDSON SAN FRANCISCO THE JAMES H. BARRY COMPANY 1914 7 f* V COPYRIGHT', -1914, : BY fA SKEPARDSON. Photo by A. C. Warner THE ROAD TO THE BUTTERFLY TREES The Butterfly Trees For several reasons is the Monterey peninsula famed among the folk who have come to California for a time and re- turned to their own land. There is beauty of scenery, there is evenness of climate, to charm the wayfarer and cause him to remember. And more of the vanishing Spanish element may yet be found in old Monterey, with its adobes and its legends, than anywhere else the length of the long State. But for a fourth good reason, and the one least known, does it stand alone 84 5 0646 of the places of the Pacific coast. To it each autumn comes a pilgrimage, the members of which number tens of thou- sands of pilgrims, drawn hither to seek shelter from the cold and the frost of winter, which to them would mean death. They are not men, they are not beasts, nor are they birds, these travellers of long distances. They are butterflies. It is one of the most interest- ing things to be seen the world over, this vast annual gathering of these fragile creatures. In- deed, it is almost an incredible thing, unless one has with one's own eyes beheld it. It is not only this vicinity to which they come, but one especial group of trees. What instinct brings them here, year after year, the descendants each season of those who came the previous fall, no man, not even the wisest of the scientists, can say. About three miles from the historic town which was the first capital of California, upon the souther- most corner of that blue cres- cent so often likened to Naples, lies another town, called Pa- cific Grove, the second half of the name derived from the splendid forests of Pinus Insig- nis which cover the entire pen- insula. There is a lighthouse out beyond the village, and the road to it is lined on either side with unusually beautiful pines. It is upon a certain group of these trees, beside this road, that the butterflies live all winter. They are uniformly of the same species, and will readily be recognized as the Monarch, or Anosia plexippus. Very striking are their wide reddish- brown wings, with the broad black borders and the two rows of white spots along the outer edges. During the months be- tween mid-autumn and mid- spring, countless numbers of them flit all day about the flow- ers of the gardens of the town, but the air is so warm and but- terflies seem such natural com- plements of plants in bloom, that at first a person does not particularly notice them. After a time, however, it is realized Photo Copyright 1914 by A. C. Warner BUTTERFLIES ON A PINE BOUGH that this is winter, and that but- terflies are not supposed to be abroad in winter. Then it is that the marvel of it dawns upon the beholder, and his keen interest is very certain to be aroused. He will in all likeli- hood spend pleasant days in ob- serving the Monarchs and be- coming acquainted with their habits, for they do have hab- its, very firm and fixed ones, as will later be seen. Although they alight on every plant and shrub and tree that blossoms in the neighbor- hood, the nearer the observer comes to their own home trees, the greater their numbers, until a group of pines is seen, the branches of which are literally covered with the insects. This is their chosen abiding place, and has been, past the memory of man. They hang in masses from the boughs, thousands upon thousands. They are ab- solutely countless, and the ap- pearance of the needle-clad branches is transformed into the semblance of thickly-leafed growth, with all the leaves turned brown. On a dark and cloudy day, when the citizens of this remarkable colony are at rest, it is not too easy a mat- ter for a stranger to find them, since they then hang motion- less, with the bright side of their wings folded inward and the dull tawny side outward, forming little or no contrast 10 with the brown bark of the trees and melting in with the dull green of the needles, a marked instance of protective coloring. They do not seem to care for oaks at all, although there are many large specimens near by. It may be that there is something about this particu- lar species of pine which at- tracts them; it is found no- where else on the coast, or in fact, in the whole world. Or it might be possible that the com- bination of pines, sheltered climate, and perennial flowers influenced them long ago to winter at this place; although they first were known here years before the town of Pacific Grove was founded and gar- 11 dens were cultivated, the sand verbenas and lilacs and other wild things native to this region have been blossoming as long as the pines have been growing. They arrive in October, us- ually about the second week, and they remain until March, as regularly, as surely, as the seasons change. The earliest authentic information as to this annual migration dates back fifty years, when the Monarchs were seen upon the pines just as they are to-day. Previous to that, no mention has been found of this interesting phenomenon, for such it may truly be called. The early Spanish chronicles and traditions make no men- tion of it, although Monterey, 12 a scant three miles distant, was gay with life when the last cen- tury came in; but it is easy to understand how the caballeros, riding at top speed, as they us- ually did on their occasional jaunts through the woods, did not glimpse the butterfly trees. Many a person on foot, and searching particularly for them, has missed them too. Also, many a person has missed them without ever dreaming of that which he unwittingly was pass- ing by. For it is a curious fact that this wonder is, and has al- ways been, comparatively little known. The early voyagers and scientists, thoroughly as many of them explored this re- gion, and keen though their 13 eyes must have been to discover all the things they did, make no mention of it in any place among their various writings, even David Douglas, the world- famed botanist, and the keenest- eyed of all the strangers who came here, is silent regarding it. Yet it is easy to understand, after all, for unless one knows exactly what to look for, such as the appearance of the insects when at rest upon the branches, and the precise location of the trees, it is next to impossible to find them. And there was no one then to point them out to comers from far lands. One summer, two or three seasons ago, an unusual amount of interest was for some reason 14 manifested in this phenomenon, and the following autumn, when the pines on the light- house road became brown with the small tourists, for a month or more, particularly on Sunday afternoons, there was a proces- sion of sightseers wending their way out to the trees. The poor butterflies, alas, fared rather badly as a result of this suddenly aroused public attention. Many spectators wished to see those in flight that were at rest upon the branches, so the delicate creatures were pelted with sticks and stones and cones until hun- dreds of them had crushed and broken wings. But while this disturbed them sadly, it did not drive them away, and in six 15 weeks or so, when the interest in them slackened a bit, they were left to their usual quiet solitude. Of all living things, butter- flies, from the classical to the present-day writers, have ever been cited as an epitome of joy- ous living, and freedom from responsibility of any sort. But they are not the idlers that they seem, nor are they free from a systematic scheme of living. The Anosiae not only return to this same place each season, but once arrived, they adhere to a fixed routine which has not va- ried in observations extending over a period of sixteen years. It takes three or four weeks for them to get settled after arriv- 16 ing. When they first come, in October, seemingly not in the least fatigued by their travels, they appear transported with joy at having attained their des- tination. They flutter madly about in the warm sunshine in twos and threes or larger groups, playing like birds in their flight. Sometimes they as- cend to a considerable height in the air, in pure ecstasy of liv- ing, apparently. The best time to watch them is when they are in this unsettled state, because a better idea can then be obtained of their great numbers. At this season, too, they rest thickly upon some of the smaller trees in the vicinity, upon the way- 17 side weeds and vines, and if you approach very quietly and slow- ly, and there is no wind, you can hear the faint rustling of countless wings, which, closed, bear that odd resemblance to dead leaves. Let them be dis- turbed ever so slightly, how- ever, and the wings unfold, the likeness to leaves instantly van- ishing as they rise in the air, the most exquisite of bright and evanescent clouds. By the end of the first week in November, they are system- atically established for their long stay. No more are they joyous vagrants, lighting with careless abandon npon any shrub or flower that is near. They may now be seen only 18 upon the high boughs of their especial pines, and here they re- main. Many of them go forth in search of honey each day, but they do not leave their rest- ing place in swarms, and as has been said, they are not apt to attract the attention as they skim over the gardens unless the time of year is recalled. By far the greater majority are always on their trees, it would almost seem that they take turns in procuring food. Those which are abroad do not linger away at nightfall, but return when the day is done, like homing birds. It is a pretty sight, just before sunset, a brown butterfly here, and there another, and yonder yet others, some of them 19 loitering for a last taste of honey, but not for long, as they wend their way on their slight wings out toward Point Pinos and the place they love. Some- times on very warm days, when goodly numbers of them have been honey-seeking and about four or five o'clock in the after- noon have just returned for the night, they do not fold their wings at once in rest, but flit about like birds from bough to bough, picking a likely twig or pine needle whereon to sleep, and the late s t un, slanting through the forest, glints upon their red-brown surfaces until the branches are ruddy with warm and pulsing color. They are beautiful always to look 20 upon, these dainty creatures, but this is the time of all the day, I think, when they are quite most lovely. They are very hardy, few which have died being found underneath the trees at any time. They are not affected by the occasional light frosts of the vicinity, nor are they harmed by storms; during inclement weather they move from the tips of the limbs close up to the mossy trunks, where they re- main in perfect safety. None of them venture forth when it is raining, which tends to prove that they are able to do without sustenance for some little time. One of the most severe storms ever kncrwn on the coast oc- 21 curred this winter, when for three weeks there was not a sunny day, and most of this pe- riod it rained incessantly. Small opportunity was there for the Monarchs to gather honey. It would be a natural supposition that many of them perished from exposure and hunger, but such was far from the case. Not a dead butterfly was seen, and when the sun shone forth at last, how they spread their tiny pin- ions in happy flight, almost as excited as when they first ar- rived in October. They flocked to the warm grass, they thronged the blossoming pine boughs ev- erywhere, they settled in clouds upon acacia trees feathery with 22 bloom. Little cared they for the storms that were past. They are undisturbed by the travel on the nearby road, not even by the countless automo- biles which roll along the neigh- boring boulevard. Only once have they taken exception to any disturbing factor, and this was when some heavy blasting was being done during the win- ter months on the road near their trees. Then, indeed, were they aroused. They straight- way took their departure, and quite disappeared from their winter home and from the en- tire peninsula. There is no means of knowing where they then sought shelter, but most of them must have perished, wher- 23 ever they were, since very few were seen in their accustomed haunts the following winter. Two years later, however, they appeared in much the same swarms as before. They are unmolested by birds of any sort, even the alert and rapacious jays, with which these woods abound, letting them se- verely alone. This is because they are what are known as pro- tected insects. The entire genus Anosia, of which there are the two species, Anosia plexippus and Anosia berenice, belong in this category; owing to the character of the plants upon which the larvae feed, they are provided with secretions which render them distasteful to possi- 24 Photo by A. C. Warner THE MONARCH ble enemies. The Anosiae are often called the Milkweed but- terflies, because the young feed largely upon the different va- rieties of milkweed. About the first of March they begin to disappear. A few at a time, they vanish from the pines and from the gardens, and by the end of the month they are almost entirely gone. Just be- fore leaving they are much more wild than on any previous occasion ; ordinarily they are re- markably tame, and it is not un- common for one to alight upon a person standing among or near flowers they can easily be picked up wherever encoun- tered. But he who would touch one in March must be agile in- 25 deed; the fever of migration is upon them. Their wings are faded now, and many of them broken, a sharp contrast to their lovely perfection when first they come, in the autumn. This would tend to carry out the the- ory that the young are raised during the summer. They do not leave their home in a body, but very gradually their num- bers decrease; on the other hand, they appear in the au- tumn in a relatively much shorter space of time. For some reason there are very few butterflies of any variety in this region during the summer, and almost never is a Monarch seen; there are surely flowers enough to attract them, but 26 they seem to prefer other dis- tricts. In all probability, it is many scores of years since the Anosiae first began to seek this penin- sula upon the advent of cold weather elsewhere. Their an- nual gathering here confirms a theory long held by entomolo- gists concerning them. Care- ful and continued study of their habits has led scientists for some time past to believe that upon the advent of the cold sea- son they migrate to warmer localities, where they live throughout the winter in all the glory of their winged beauty. It is well known that they do not hibernate, which differen- tiates them radically from the 27 lesser members of their kind. One of their most noted char- acteristics, mentioned by nearly all authorities on butterflies, is their tendency at the end of summer to gather in great swarms, as if preparing for a long flight. At such times they are found clinging in masses upon low trees and shrubs, just as they cling to the pines dur- ing their long sojourn in the Monterey woods, but as yet the latter place is the only known spot where they remain thus assembled for any length of time, their gatherings which have been observed elsewhere being only temporary, a day or two in duration at the longest. They fly high and strongly, 28 Photo by A. C. Warner THE BUTTERFLY TREES more like birds than insects, and they are known to be great travelers. It is presumed that those which are in the eastern and middle-western states go to the south during the cold weather, while those which winter near Pacific Grove come from a large part of the coun- try lying west of the Rocky mountains. There is one place where they may be seen each autumn on the wing, a flight so great that it takes a day for them to pass a given point. This is in a pass of the Siskiyou mountains, about a hundred miles west of the railroad. Here, in the latter part of Sep- tember, a long stream of them travels down through the hills 29 from the north, the forest rangers see them every year. They fly a little below the tree tops, a thin and fluttering band about fifty feet wide. Their progress is steady and unwaver- ing and they keep to an unerr- ing course, evidently with a fixed destination in view. They never loiter, or turn aside to rest, and not one is seen in the surrounding woods off their line of flight; there is some- thing almost pathetic in the sight, unusual and charming though it is they are so small, so weak, so defenceless, as they traverse the deep still forest, one cannot but wonder what in- stinct it is that impels them to travel on such long, long jour- 30 neys, and how far they must go before they may fold their wings. This pass is four hun- dred and fifty miles or more from Pacific Grove, yet it is not too much to suppose that many of those that come to that winter resort have found their way there from the northern country. There are many other instances where they are seen far from a resting place, ac- counts being frequently found of vessels, miles from land, which encounter swarms of the Monarchs, all flying in one di- rection, evidently on their way to some particular spot. So it is seen that these great migra- tions pertain as much to their 31 existence as to that of the birds of passage. Where they come from, we do not know, or whither they journey when they go away, the little brown visitors that come each October to the trees in the pine forest Their an- nual presence here is but a fresh token to the wise people of this world that the ways of Nature, provident for her chil- dren, are past the understand- ing of man. 32 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. JAM 2Q 1940 O 'icli ^SO \ i\ | A I g^ f