American Toad — Part 2

Bufo americanus Le Conte

Suddenly there is a slight commotion in the shallow water at our left, and out comes a snake, making its way along the bank towards the mass of golden "cowslips." But such a queer snake one never saw. It has two long legs extending straight out from the neck. It is the work of but a moment to stop its course and hold it firmly to see what strange monster is here. Do you see? The snake has partially swallowed a large toad, headfirst, and the toad's long hind legs are extending on each side from the angle of the snake's jaws. It is one of our singers, too intent on his singing to see the stealthy approach of his enemy. Pity wins the day; we must save the toad, although the snake will lose a good dinner, and probably a well-earned one. So we increase our pressure on the snake slightly, and the toad is released. With eager hops he proceeds back to the water. The snake goes on until hidden under the shining leaves and yellow flowers of the "cowslips." Humbly and thoughtfully we continue our walk. The crooning tones of the singers in the pond become more and more indistinct until they are lost altogether, and we come again into the busy world of men.

In late May, go to the woods, when the new wintergreen leaves are coming up red. Proceed to the pond at the edge of the woods, especially if it be late afternoon. Stand and look out over the water with its opening yellow pond-lilies, some of their leaves still wearing their baby red. See the brilliancy and delicacy of the columbines that cluster with the ferns at your right. Look for the broad leaves and flower-like fruits of the "cowslips" along the pond margin at the left. Hear the emphatic call of the oven-bird at your back, the love notes of the chickadee far away among the trees, and the merry tinkle of the bobolink in the meadow beyond the blue flags. By this time, however, you have probably heard sounds from the pond itself. The explosive note of the Green Frog proceeds from the shallow water; the purring trill of "the Tree Toad" comes from some spot impossible to locate. But listen! The toad's lullaby note (In late May and June we can hear at the ponds of Rhode Island and Massachusetts the call of the Fowler's toad. This call is far more conspicuous and much less musical. (See p. 95.) comes from the far margin, sweeter than all others if we except the two notes in the chickadee's spring call. We could never have believed it to be the voice of a toad if we had not seen and heard on that first May day. The sustained note is not only high-pitched and tremulous; it seems to have a dual character, as though a low note were droned at the same time that a high one was whistled. Imitate the call by whistling the upper and at the same time humming the lower of the following two notes. (In late May and June we can hear at the ponds of Rhode Island and Massachusetts the call of the Fowler's toad. This call is far more conspicuous and much less musical. (See p. 95.) The imitation may be good enough to bring response again and again.

If we go to a pond at night, we shall have every opportunity both to see and to hear toads, especially if we carry a lantern. Instead of being frightened by the light, they are attracted by it and may gather about it. If the lantern is set on the ground, they sometimes try to climb to its top. An especially enthusiastic one may sit on the toe of our boot, swell out his throat and sing. Even taking them into our hands will not quell their ardour at once. They continue to sing even while we take hold of the distended throat, which is hard from the pressure of the air within.

If we row on river or lake, pond or park lagoon, some moonlight night late in May, their voices, which seem somewhat woeful in the silence of the night, make a fit accompaniment to the slow dip of oars and the low gurgle of water at the boat's stern. We are reminded that this song has been compared to the slow opening movement of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." ("Familiar Life in Field and Forest." F. S. Matthews.) As late in the season as this there will be heard also an occasional deep bass note from a bullfrog, a loud and somewhat startlingly weird sound of the night, not at all in harmony with the gentle, drowsy song of the toads.