Bound (Ettg ftobltr ICtbrary This Volume is for REFERENCE USE ONLY From the collection of the 2 n m PreTinger v Jjibrary t San Francisco, California 2006 I • VOLUME n. JULY TO DECEMBER, 1897. Periodic*/ INDEX. Anhinga, or Snake Bird, Anhinga Anhinga pages 26-27 Avocet, American, Recurvirostra Americana " 14-15 Audubon, John James u 161 Birds of Bethlehem " 22^ Bird Song " 1-41-81 Birds in Captivity " 121 Birds of Passage " 173 Bird Miscellany ....'..•...... " 195-235 Blue Bird, Mountain, Sialia arctica " 203-205 Bunting, Lazuli, Passerina amoena , " 196-198-199 Chimney Swift, Ghatura pelagica " 131-133 Captive's Escape " 116 Chat, Yellow- Breasted, Icteria virens " 236-238-239 Cuckoo, Yellow-Billed, Coccyzus americanus " 94-95 Dove, Mourning, Zenaidura macrura " iri-ii2-ii3 Duck, Canvas-back, Athya valisneria . . " 18-20 Duck, Mallard, Anas boschas " 10-11-13 Duck, Wood, Aix Sponsa . " 21-23-24 Eagle, Baldheaded, Hali&tus lencocephalus " 2-3-5 Flamingo, Pluznicopterus ruber " 218-221 Flycatcher, Vermillion, Pyrocephalus rubineus mexicanus . . " 192-193 Gold Finch, American, Spinus tristis , " 128-129-130 Goose, White-fronted, Anser albifrons gambeli " 166-168—169 Grackle, Bronzed, Quiscalus quiscula " 228-230-231 Grosbeak, Evening, Cocothraustes vespertina " 68-70-71 Grouse, Black, Tetrao tetrix " 217-220-223 Heron, Snowy, Ardea candidissima " 38-39 How the Birds Secured Their Rights " 115 Humming Bird, Allen's Selasphorus alleni " 210-211 Humming Bird, Ruby-Throated, Trochilus colubris .... u 97-100-103 J unco, Slate Colored, Junco hyemalis " 153-155 Kingbird, Tyrannus tyrannus . . " 156—158—159 Kingfisher, European, Alcedo ispida " 188-190-191 Kinglet, Ruby-crowned, Regulus calendula " 108—110 Lark, Horned, Otocoris alpestris " 134-135 Lost Mate . "126 Merganser, Red-Breasted, Merganser serrator pages 54-55 Nuthatch, White-Breasted, Sitta carolinensis . " 118-119 Old Abe " 35 Ornithological Congress " 201 Osprey, American, Pandion palicetus carolinenses u 42-43-45 Partridge, Gambel's, Callipepla gambeli " 78-79 Phalarope, Wilson's, Phalaropus tricolor " 66-67 Pheasant, Ringnecked, Phasianus torquatus " 232-233 Phoebe, Sayornis ph.',.. , Kingbird, Tyrannus tyrannus ; i' . . Kingfisher, European, Alcedo ispida " Kinglet, Ruby-crowned, Re gulus calendula " Lark, Horned, Otocoris alpestris " Lost Mate . . . . " 26-27 14^5 161 223 1-41-81 121 173 '95-235 203-205 196-198-199 116 236-238-239 94-95 111-112-113 18-20 10-11-13 21-23-24 2-3-5 218-221 192-193 128-129-130 166-168-169 228-230-231 68-70-7 i 217-220-223 38-39 "5 97-IOO-IO3 I53~I55 I34-I35 126 Merganser, Red-Breasted, Merganser serrator pages 54-55 Nuthatch, White-Breasted, Sitta carolinensis " 118-119 Old Abe '..... « 35 Ornithological Congress " 201 Osprey, American, Pandion palicetus carolinenses " 42-43-45 Partridge, Gambel's, Callipepla gambeli " 78-79 Phalarope, Wilson's, Phalaropus tricolor " 66-67 Pheasant, Ringnecked, Phasianus torquatus " 232-233 Phoebe, Sayornis phcebe " 106-107 Plover, Belted Piping, Aegialitis meloda circumcincta . ... u 174-175 Plover, Semipalmated Ring, Aegialitis semi-polmata .... " 6-8-9 Rail, Sora, Porzana Carolina " 46-48-49 Sapsucker, Yellow-bellied, Sphyrapicus rarius " 137-140-143 Scoter, American, Oidemia deglandi " 32-33 Skylark, Alauda arvensis ,. " 61-63-64 Snake Bird, (Anhinga) Anhinga anhinga . " 26-27 Snowflake, Plectrophenax nivalis " 150-151-152 Sparrow, English, Passer domesticus ... ..«•»..... " 206-208-^-209 Sparrow, Song, Melospisa fasciata " 90-91-93 Summaries " 40-80-120- 160-200-240 Tanager, Summer, Piranga rubra . u 163-165 Teal, Green winged, Anas carolinensis u 213-214-215 The Bird's Story. . . . , " 224 Thrush, Hermit, Turdus Aonalaschkae " 86-88-89 To a Water Fowl . . " 76 Tropic Bird, Yellow-billed, Phaethon flavirostris . - " 184-186-187 Turkey, Wild, Meleagris gallopava " 177-180-183 Turnstone, Arenaria interpres " 170—171 Verdin, Auriparus flaviceps " 226—227 Vireo, Warbling, Vireo gilvus " 138-141 Vulture, Turkey, Catharista Atrata " . 72-73-75 Warbler, Blackburnian, Dendroica blackburnia " 123-125 Warbler, Cerulean, Dendrceca caerulea . " 178-181 Warbler, Kentucky, Geothlypis formosa " 50-51-53 Warbler, Yellow, Dendroica astiva " 83-85 Woodcock, American, Philohela minor " 28-30-31 Wren, House, Troglodytes cedon " 98-101-104 Wood Pewee, Contopus Virens " 144-146- 147-148 Yellow Legs, Totanus flavipes " 58-60 BIRDS. BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. VOL. II. JULY, 1897. No. i. BIRD SONG. i T SHOULD not be overlooked by the young observer that if he would learn to recognize at once any particular bird, he should make himself acquainted with the song and call notes of every bird around him. The identification, however, of the many feathered creatures with which we meet in our rambles has heretofore required so much patience, that, though a delight to the enthusiast, few have time to acquire any great intimacy with them. To get this acquaintance with the birds, the observer has need to be prepared to explore perilous places, to climb lofty trees, and to meet with frequent mishaps. To be sure if every veritable secret of their habits is to be pried into, this pursuit will continue to be plied as patiently as it has ever been. The opportunity, however, to secure a sat- isfactory knowledge of bird song and bird life by a most delightful method has at last come to every one. A gentleman who has taken a great interest in BIRDS from the appearance of the first number, but whose acquaint- ance with living birds is quite limited, visited one of our parks a few days ago, taking with him the latest num- ber of the magazine. His object, he said, was to find there as many of the living forms of the speci- mens represented as he could. "Seat- ing myself amidst a small grove of trees, what was my delight at see- ing a Red Wing alight on a telegraph wire stretching across the park. Ex- amining the picture in BIRDS I was somewhat disappointed to find that the live specimen was not so brilliantly marked as in the picture. Presently, however, another Blackbird alighted near, who seemed to be the veritable presentment of the photograph. Then it occured to me that I had seen the Red Wing before, without knowing its name. It kept repeating a rich, juicy note, oncher-la-ree-e! its tail tetering at quick intervals. A few days later I observed a large number of Red Wings near the Hyde Park water works, in the vicinity of which, among the trees and in the marshes, I also saw many other birds unknown to me. With BIRDS in my hands, I identified the Robin, who ran along the ground quite close to me, anon summoning with his beak the incautious angle worm to the surface. The Jays were noisy and numerous, and I observed many new traits in the Wood Thrush, so like the Robin that I was at first in some doubt about it. I heard very few birds sing that day, most of them being busy in search of food for their young." [CONTINUED ON PAGE 17.] THE BALD-HEADED EAGLE. Dear Boys and Girls : I had hoped to show you the picture of the eagle that went through the war with the soldiers. They called him " Old Abe." You will find on page 35 a long story written about him. Ask some one to read it to you. I could net get " Old Abe," or you should now be looking at his picture. He is at present in Wisconsin, and his owner would not allow him to be taken from home. I did the next best thing, and found one that was very much like him. They are as near alike as two children of a family. Old Abe's feathers are not quite so smooth, though. Do you wonder, after having been through the war? He is a veteran, isn't he ? The picture is that of a Bald- headed Eagle. He is known, also, by other names, such as White-headed Eagle, Bird of Washington, Sea Eagle. You can easily see by the picture that he is not bald- headed. The name White- headed would seem a better name. It is because at a dis- tance his head and neck appear as though they were covered with a white skin. He is called u Sea Eagle " because his food is mostly fish. He takes the fish that are thrown upon the shores by the waves, and sometimes he robs the Fish Hawk of his food. This mighty bird usually places his large nest in some tall tree. He uses sticks three to five feet long, large pieces of sod, weeds, moss, and whatever he can find. The nest is sometimes five or six feet through. Eagles use the same nest for years, adding to it each year. Young eagles are queer look- ing birds. When hatched, they are covered with a soft down that looks like cotton. Their parents feed them, and do not allow them to leave the nest until they are old enough to fly. When they are old enough, the mother bird pushes . them out of the nest. She must be sure that they can flj7, or she would not dare do this. Don't you think so? im col. Chi. Acad. Sciences. AMERICAN BALD EAGLE. 14 Life size. THE BALD HEADED EAGLE. HIS mighty bird of lofty flight is a native of the whole of North America, and may be seen haunting the greater portions of the sea coasts, as well as the mouths of large rivers. He is sometimes called the Whiteheaded Eagle, the American Sea Eagle, the Bird of Washington, the Washington Eagle, and the Sea Eagle. On account of thesnowy white of his head and neck, the name Bald Eagle has been applied to him more generally than any other. Sea-faring men are partial to young Eagles as pets, there being a well established superstition among them that the ship that carries the " King of Birds "can never go down. The old Romans, in selecting the Eagle as an emblem for their imperial standard, showed this superstitious belief, regard- ing him as the favorite messenger of Jupiter, holding communion with heaven. The Orientals, too, believed that the feathers of the Eagle's tail rendered their arrows invincible. The Indian mountain tribes east of Ten- nessee venerated the Eagle as their bird of war, and placed a high value on his feathers, which they used for headdresses and to decorate their pipes of peace. The United States seems to have an abiding faith in the great bird, as our minted dollars show. The nest of the Bald Eagle is usually placed upon the top of a giant tree, standing far up on the side of a moun- tain, among myriads of twining vines, or on the summit of a high inaccessi- ble rock. The nest in the course of years, becomes of great size as the Eagle lays her eggs year after year in the same nest, and at each nesting season adds new material to the old nest. It is strongly and comfortably built with large sticks and branches, nearly flat, and bound together with twining vines. The spacious interior is lined with hair and moss, so minutely woven together as to exclude the wind. The female lays two eggs of a brown- ish red color, with many dots and spots, the long end of the egg tapering to a point. The parents are affection- ate, attend to their young as long as they are helpless and unfledged, and will not forsake them even though the tree on which they rest be enveloped in flames. When the Eaglets are ready to fly, however, the parents push them from the perch and trust them to the high atmospheric currents. They turn them out, so to speak, to shift for themselves. The Bald Eagle has an accommo- dating appetite, eating almost anything that has ever had life. He is fond of fish, without being a great fisher, pre- ferring to rob the Fish-hawk of the fruits of his skillful labor. Sitting upon the side of a mountain his keen vision surveys the plain or valley, and detects a sheep, a young goat, a fat turkey or rooster, a pig, a rabbit or a large bird, and almost within an eye- twinkle he descends upon his victim. A mighty grasp, a twist of his talons, and the quarry is dead long before the Eagle lays it down for a repast. The impetuosity and skill with which he pursues, overtakes and robs the Fish- hawk, and the swiftness with which the Bald Eagle darts down upon and seizes the booty, which the Hawk has been compelled to let go, is not the least wonderful part of this striking performance. The longevity of the Eagle is very great, from 80 to 160 years. THE SEMIPALMATED RING PLOVER, N THEIR habits the Plovers are usually active ; they run and fly with equal facility, and though they rarely attempt to swim, are not altogether unsuc- cessful in that particular. The Semipalmated Ring Plover utters a plaintive whistle, and during the nesting season can produce a few connected pleasing notes. The three or four pear-shaped, variagated eggs are deposited in a slight hollow in the ground, in which a few blades of grass are occasionally placed. Both parents assist in rearing the young. Worms, small quadrupeds, and insects consti- tute their food. Their flesh is regarded as a delicacy, and they are therefore ob- jects of great attraction to the sports- man, although they often render them- selves extremely troublesome by utter- ingtheirshrillcryandthuswarningtheir feathered companions of the approach of danger. From this habit they have received the name of "tell-tales." Dr. Livingstone said of the African species: UA most plaguey sort of public spirited individual follows you everywhere, flying overhead, and is most persever- ing in his attempts to give fair warn- ing to all animals within hearing to flee from the approach of danger." The American Ring Plover nests as far north as Labrador, and is common on our shores from August to October, after which it migrates southward. Some are stationary in the southern states. It is often called the Ring- Plover, and has been supposed to be identical with the European Ringed Plover. It is one of the commonest of shore birds. It is found along the beaches and easily identified by the complete neck ring, white upon dark and dark upon light. Like the Sandpipers the Plovers dance along the shore in rhythm with the wavelets, leaving sharp half-webbed footprints on the wet sand. Though usually found along the seashore, Samuels says that on their arrival in spring, small flocks follow the courses of large rivers, like the Connecticut. He also found a single pair building on Muskeget, the famous haunt of Gulls, off the shore of Massachusetts. It has been found near Chicago, Illinois, in July. THE RING PLOVER. Plovers belong to a class of birds called Waders. They spend the winters down south, and early in the spring begin their, journey north. By the beginning of summer they are in the cold north, where they lay their eggs and hatch their young. Here they remain until about the month of August, when they begin to journey southward. It is on their way back that we see most of them. While on their way north, they are in a hurry to reach their nesting places, so only stop here and there for food and rest. Coming back with their fam- ilies, we often see them in ploughed fields. Here they find insects and seeds to eat. The Ring Plover is so called from the white ring around its neck. These birds are not particular about their nests. They do not build comfortable nests as most birds do. They find a place that is sheltered from the north winds, and where the sun will reach them. Here they make a rude nest of the mosses lying around. The eggs are somewhat pointed, and placed in the nest with the points toward the cen- ter. In this way the bird can more easily cover the eggs. We find, among most birds, that after the nest is made, the mother bird thinks it her duty to hatch the yo.ung. The father bird usually feeds her while she sits on the eggs. In some of the bird stories, you have read how the father and mother birds take turns in build- ing the nest, sitting on the nest, and feeding the young. Some father birds do all the work in building the nest, and take care of the birds when hatched. Among plovers, the father bird usually hatches the young, and lets the wife do as she pleases. After the young are hatched they help each other take care of them. Plovers have long wings, and can fly very swiftly. The distance between their summer and winter homes is sometimes very great. THE MALLARD DUCK. We should probably think this the most beautiful of ducks, were the Wood Duck not around. His rich glossy-green head and neck, snowy white collar, and curly feathers of the tail are surely marks of beauty. But Mr. Mallard is not so richly dressed all of the year. Like a great many other birds, he changes his clothes after the holiday season is over. When he does this, you can hardly tell him from his mate who wears a sober dress all the year. Most birds that change their plumage wear their bright, beautiful dress during the sum- mer. Not so with Mr. Mallard. He wears his holiday clothes during the winter. In the sum- mer he looks much like his mate. Usually the Mallard family have six to ten eggs in their nest. They are of a pale greenish color — very much like the eggs of our tame ducks that we see about the barnyards. Those who have studied birds say that our tame ducks are descendants of the Mallards. If you were to hear the Mal- lard's quack, you could not tell it from that of the domestic duck. The Mallard usually makes her nest of grass, and lines it with down from her breast. You will almost always find it on the ground, near the water, and well sheltered by weeds and tall grasses. It isn't often you see a duck with so small a family. It must be that some of the ducklings are away picking up food. Do you think they look like young chickens ? THE MALLARD DUCK. HE Mallard Duck is generally distributed in North America, migrating south in winter to Panama, Cuba, and the Ba- hamas. In summer the full grown male resembles the female, being merely somewhat darker in color. 'The plumage is donned by degrees in early June, and in August the full rich winter dress is again resumed. The adult males in winter plumage vary chiefly in the extent and richness of the chestnut of the breast. The Mallard is probably the best known of all our wild ducks, being very plentiful and remarkable on account of its size. Chiefly migrant, a few sometimes remain in the south- ern portion of Illinois, and a few pairs sometimes breed in the more secluded localities where they are free from dis- turbance. Its favorite resorts are mar- gins of ponds and streams, pools and ditches. It is an easy walker, and can run with a good deal of speed, or dive if forced to do so, though it never dives for food It feeds on seeds of grasses, fibrous roots of plants, worms, shell fish, and insects. In feeding in shallow water the bird keeps the hind part of its body erect, while it searches the muddy bottom with its bill. When alarmed and made to fly, it utters a loud quack, the cry of the female being the louder. " It feeds silently, but after hunger is satisfied, it amuses itself with various jabberings, swims about, moves its head backward and forward, throws water over its back, shoots along the surface, half flying, half running, and seems quite playful. If alarmed, the Mallard springs up at once with a bound, rises obliquely to a considerable height, and flies off with great speed, the wings producing a whistling sound. The flight is made by repeated flaps, without sailing, and when in full flight its speed is hardly less than a hundred miles an hour." Early in spring the male and female seek a nesting place, building on the ground, in marshes or among water plants, sometimes on higher ground, but never far from water. The nest is large and rudely made of sedges and coarse grasses, seldom lined with clown or feathers. In rare instances it nests in trees, using the deserted nests of hawks, crows, or other large birds. Six or eight eggs of pale dull green are hatched, and the young are covered over with down. When the female leaves the nest she conceals the eggs with hay, down, or any convenient material. As soon as hatched the chicks follow the mother to the water, where she attends them devotedly, aids them in procuring food, and warns them of danger. While they are at- tempting to escape, she feigns lame- ness to attract to herself the attention of the enemy. The chicks are won- derfully active little fellows, dive quickly, and remain under water with only the bill above the surface. On a lovely morning, before the sun has fairly indicated his returning pres- ence, there can be no finer sight than the hurrying pinions, or inspiring note than the squawk, oft repeated, of these handsome feathered creatures, as they seek their morning meal in the lagoons and marshes. THE AMERICAN AVOCET. KITE SNIPE, Yelper, Lawyer, and Scooper are some of the popular names applied in various localities to this remarkably long- legged and long and slender-necked creature, which is to be found in tem- perate North America, and, in winter, as far south as Cuba and Jamaica. In north-eastern Illinois the Avocet gen- erally occurs in small parties the last of April and the first of May, and dur- ing September and the early part of October, when it frequents the borders of marshy pools. The bird combines the characteristics of the Curlew and the Godwit, the bill being re-curved. The cinnamon color on the head and neck of this bird varies with the individual; sometimes it is dusky gray around the eye, especially in the younger birds. The Avocet is interesting and at- tractive in appearance, without having any especially notable characteristics. He comes and goes and is rarely seen by others than sportsmen. >• v From col. F. M. Woodruff. AMERICAN AVOCET. y-i Life size. BIRD SONG— Continued from page i . Many of our singing birds may be easily identified by any one who carries in his mind the images which are pre- sented in our remarkable pictures. See the birds at home, as it were, and hear their songs. Those who fancy that few native birds live in our parks will be sur- prised to read the following list of them now visible to the eyes of so careful an observer as Mr. J. Chester Lyman. "About the 2Oth of May I walked one afternoon in Lincoln Park with a friend whose early study had made him familiar with birds generally, and we noted the following varieties : 1 Magnolia Warbler. 2 Yellow Warbler. 3 Black Poll Warbler. 4 Black-Throated Blue Warbler. 5 Black-Throated Queen Warbler. 6 Blackburnian Warbler. 7 Chestnut-sided Warbler. 8 Golden-crowned Thrush. 9 Wilson's Thrush. 10 Song Thrush. i r Catbird. 12 Bluebird. 13 Kingbird. 14 Least Fly Catcher. 15 Wood Pewee Fly Catcher. 16 Great Crested Fly Catcher. 17 Red-eyed Virto. 18 Chimney Swallow. 19 Barn Swallow. :o Purple Martin. 21 RedStart. 22 House Wren. 23 Purple Grackle. 24 White-throated Sparrow. 25 Song Sparrow. 26 Robin. 27 Blue Jay. 28 Red Headed Woodpecker. 29 Kingfisher. 30 Night Hawk. 31 Yellow-Billed Cuckoo. 32 Scarlet Tanager, Male and Female. 33 Black and White Creeper. 34 Gull, or Wilson's Tern. 35 The Omni-present English Sparrow. " On a similar walk, one week ear- lier, we saw about the same number of varieties, including, however, the Yel- low Breasted Chat, and the Mourning, Bay Breasted, and Blue Yellow Backed Warblers." The sweetest songsters are easily accessible, and all may enjoy their presence. C. C. MARBLE. [TO BE CONTINUED.] THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. names HITE-BACK, Canard Che- val, (New Orleans,) Bull- Neck, and Red Headed Bull-Neck, are common the famous Canvas-Back, which nests from the northern states, northward to Alaska. Its range is throughout nearly all of North Amer- ica, wintering from the Chesapeake southward to Guatemala. " The biography of this duck," says Mabel Osgood Wright, " belongs rather to the cook-book than to a bird list," even its most learned biographers referring mainly to its "eatable quali- ties," Dr. Coues even taking away its character in that respect when he says " there is little reason for squealing in barbaric joy over this over-rated and generally under-done bird ; not one person in ten thousand can tell it from any other duck on the table, and only then under the celery circumstances," referring to the particular flavor of its flesh, when at certain seasons it feeds on vallisneria, or " water celery," which won its fame. This is really not celery at all, but an eel-grass, not always found through the range of the Canvas-Back. When this is scarce it eats frogs, lizards, tadpoles, fish, etc., so that, says Mrs. Osgood, " a certifi- cate of residence should be sold with every pair, to insure the inspiring flavor." The opinion held as to the edible qualities of this species varies greatly in different parts of the country. No where has it so high a reputation as in the vicinity of Chesapeake Bay, where the alleged superiority of its flesh is ascribed to the abundance of "water celery." That this notion is erroneous is evident from the fact that the same plant grows in far more abundance in the upper Mississippi Valley, where also the Canvas-Back feeds on it. Hence it is highly probable that fash- ion and imagination, or perhaps a superior style of cooking and serving, play a very important part in the case. In California, however, where the " water celery " does not grow, the Canvas-Back is considered a very in- ferior bird for the table. It has been hunted on Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries with such in- considerate greed that its numbers have been greatly reduced, and many have been driven to more southern waters. In and about Baltimore, the Canvas- Back, like the famous terrapin, is in as high favor for his culinary excel- lence, as are the women for beauty and hospitality. To gratify the healthy appetite of the human animal this bird wasdoubtlesssentby a kind Providence, none the less mindful of the creature comforts and necessities of mankind than of the purely aesthetic senses. r8 £ *fti 'IP! THE WOOD DUCK. A great many people think that this is the most beautiful bird of North America. It is called Wood Duck because it usually makes its nest in the hollow of a tree that overhangs the water. If it can find a squirrel's or woodpecker's hole in some stump or tree, there it is sure to nest. A gentleman who delighted in watching the Wood Duck, tells about one that built her nest in the hollow of a tree that hung over the water. He was anxious to see how the little ones, when hatched, would get down. In a few days he knew that the ducklings were out, for he could hear their pee, pee, pee. They came to the edge of the nest, one by one, and tumbled out into the water. You know a duck can swim as soon as it comes out of the egg. Sometimes the nest is in the hollow of a tree that is a short distance from the water. Now how do you suppose the ducklings get there as they do ? If the nest is not far from the ground, the mother bird lets them drop from it on the dried grass and leaves under the tree. She then carries them in her bill, one by one, to the water and back to the nest. If the nest should be far from the ground, she carries them down one by one. This same gentleman says that he once saw a Wood Duck carry down thirteen little ones in less than ten minutes. She took them in her bill by the back of the neck or the wing. When they are a few days old she needs only to lead the way and the little ones will follow. The Wood Duck is also called Summer Duck. This is because it does not stay with us during the winter, as most ducks do. It goes south to spend the winter and comes back north early in the spring. THE WOOD DUCK. UITB the most beautiful of the native Ducks, with a a richness of plumage which gives it a bridal or festive appearance, this bird is specifically named Spousa, which means betrothed. It is also called Summer Duck, Bridal Duck, Wood Widgeon, Acorn Duck and Tree Duck. It is a fresh water foul, and exclu- sively so in the selection of its nesting haunts. It inhabits the whole of tem- perate North America, north to the fur countries, and is found in Cuba and sometimes in Europe. Its favor- ite haunts are wooded bottom-lands, where it frequents the streams and ponds, nesting in hollows of the largest trees. Sometimes a hole in a hori- zontal limb is chosen that seems too small to hold the Duck's plump body, and occasionally it makes use of the hole of an Owl or Woodpecker, the entrance to which has been enlarged by decay. Wilson visited a tree containing a nest of a Wood or Summer Duck, on the banks of Tuckahoe river, New Jersey. The tree stood on a declivity twenty yards from the water, and in its hollow and broken top, about six feet down, on the soft decayed wood were thirteen eggs covered with down from the mother's breast. The eggs were of an exact oval shape, the sur- face smooth and fine grained, of a yel- lowish color resembling old polished ivory. This tree had been occupied by the same pair, during nesting time, for four successive years. The female had been seen to carry down from the nest thirteen young, one by one, in less than ten minutes. She caught them in her bill by the wing or. back of the neck, landed them safely at the foot of the tree, and finally led them to the water. If the nest be directly over the water, the little birds as soon as hatched drop into the water, break- ing their fall by extending their wings. Many stories are told of their at- tachment to their nesting places. For several years one observer saw a pair of Wood Ducks make their nest in the hollow of a hickory which stood on the bank, half a dozen yards from a river. In preparing to dam the river near this point, in order to supply water to a neighboring city, the course of the river was diverted, leaving the old bed an eighth of a mile behind, notwithstanding which the ducks bred in the old place, the female undaunted by the distance which she would have to travel to lead her brood to the water. While the females are laying, and afterwards when sitting, the male usually perches on an adjoining limb and keeps watch. The common note of the drake is peet-peet, and when standing sentinel, if apprehending danger, he makes a noise not unlike the crowing of a young cock, oe-eek. The drake does not assist in sitting on the eggs, and the female is left in the lurch in the same manner as the Part- ridge. The Wood Duck has been repeat- edly tamed and partially domesticated. It feeds freely on corn meal soaked in water, and as it grows, catches flies with great dexterity. 24 From col. F. C. Baker. ANHINGA OR SNAKE BIRD. Ya, Life size. THE ANHINGA OR SNAKE BIRD. (^ I HE Snake Bird is very singular t I indeed in appearance, and in- OJ I teresting as well in its habits. Tropical and sub-tropical America, north to the Carolinas and Southern Illinois, where it is a regular summer resident, are its known haunts. Here it is recognized by different names, as Water Turkey, Darter, and Snake Bird. The last mentioned seems to be the most appropriate name for it, as the shape of its head and neck at once suggest the serpent. In Flor- ida it is called the Grecian Lady, at the mouth of the Mississipi, Water Crow, and in Louisiana, Bee a Lan- cette. It often swims with the body entirely under water, its head and long neck in sight like some species of water snakes, and has no doubt more than once left the impression on the mind of the superstitious sailor that he has seen a veritable sea serpent, the fear of which lead him to exaggerate the size of it. This bird so strange in looks and action is common in summer in the South Atlantic and Gulf States, fre- quenting the almost impenetrable swamps, and is a constant resident of Florida. As a diver the Snake Bird is the most wonderful of all the Ducks. Like the Loon it can disappear instantly and noislessly, swim a long distance and reappear almost in an opposite direction to that in which naturally it would be supposed to go. And the ease with which, when alarmed, it will drop from its perch and leave scarcely a ripple on the surface of the water, would appear incredible in so large a bird, were it not a well known fact. It has also the curious habit of sinking like a Grebe. The nests of the Anhinga are located in various places, sometimes in low bushes at a height from the ground of only a few feet, or in the upper branches of high trees, but always over water. Though web footed, it is strong enough to grasp tightly the perch on which it nests. This gives it a great advantage over the common Duck which can nest only on the ground. Sometimes Snake Birds breed in colonies with various Species of Herons. From three to five eggs, bluish, or dark greenish white, are usually found in the nest. Prof. F. C. Baker, secretary of the Chicago Academy of Sciences, to whom we are indebted for the specimen pre- sented here, captured this bird at Mi ceo, Brevard Co., Florida, in April, 1889. He says he found a peculiar parasite in the brain ol the Arhinga. The Arhingas consist of but one species, which has a representative in the warmer parts of each of the great divisions of the earth. The number seen together varies from eight or ten to several hundred. The hair-like feathers on the neck form a sort of loose mane. When asleep the bird stands with its body almost erect. In rainy weather it often spends the greater part of the day in an erect attitude, with its neck and head stretched up- ward, remaining perfectly motionless, so that the water may glide off its plumage. The fluted tail is very thick and beautiful and serves as a propeller as well as a rudder in swimming. 27 THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK. 3T I SN'T this American Woodcock, or indeed any member of the family, a comical bird? His head is almost square, and what a remarkable eye he has ! It is a seeing eye, too, for he does not require light to enable him to detect the food he seeks in the bogs. He has many namas to characterize him, such as Bog-sucker, Mud Snipe, Blind Snipe. His greatest enemies are the pot hunters, who nevertheless have nothing but praise to bestow upon him, his flesh is so exquisitely palatable. Even those who deplore and deprecate the destruction of birds are not unappreciative of his good qualities in this respect. The Woodcock inhabits eastern North America, the north British provinces, the Dakotas, Nebraska and Kansas, and breeds throughout the range. Night is the time when the Wood- cock enjoys life. He never flies vol- untarily by day, but remains secluded in close and sheltered thickets till twi- light, when he seeks his favorite feed- ing places. His sight is imper- fect by day, but at night he readily secures his food, assisted doubtless by an extraordinary sense of smell. His remarkably large and handsome eye is too sensative for the glare of the sun, and during the greater part of the day he remains closely concealed in marshy thickets or in rank grass. In the morning and evening twilight and on moonlight nights, he seeks his food in open places. The early riser may find him with ease, but the first glow from the rays of the morning sun will cause his disappearance from the landscape. He must be looked for in swamps, and in meadows with soft bottoms. During very wet seasons he seeks higher land — usually cornfields — and searches for -food in the mellow plowed ground, where his presence is indicated by holes made by his bill. In seasons of excessive drought the Woodcock resorts in large numbers to tide water creeks and the banks of fresh water rivers. So averse is he to an excess of water, that after continued or very heavy rains he has been known suddenly to disappear from widely extended tracts of country. A curious habit of the Woodcock, and one that is comparatively little known, is that of carrying its young in order to remove them from danger. So many trustworthy naturalists main- tain this to be true that it must be accepted as characteristic of this inter- esting bird. She takes her young from place to place in her toe grasps as- scarcity of food or safety may require. As in the case of many birds whose colors adapt them to certain localities or conditions of existence, the patterns of the beautiful chestnut parts of the Woodcock mimic well the dead leaves- and serve to protect the female and her young. The whistle made by their wings when flying is a manifest- ation of one of the intelligences of nature. The male Woodcock, it is believed, when he gets his " intended " off en- tirely to himself, exhibits in peculiar dances and jigs that he is hers and hers only, or rises high on the wing cutting the most peculiar capers and gyrations in the air, protesting to her in the grass beneath the most earnest devotion, or advertising to her his. whereabouts. 28 THE WOODCOCK. Here is a bird that is not often seen in the daytime. During the day he stays in the deep woods or among the tall marsh grasses. It is at twilight that you may see him. He then comes out in search of food. Isn't he an odd-looking bird? His bill is made long so that he can bore into the soft ground for earthworms. You notice his color is much like the Ruffed Grouse in June " BIRDS." This seems to be the color of a great many birds whose home is among the grasses and dried leaves. Maybe you can see a reason for this. Those who have watched the woodcock carefully, say that he can move the tip end of the upper part of his bill. This acts like a finger in helping him to draw his food from the ground. What a sight it must be to see a number of these queer looking birds at work getting their food. If they happen to be in a swampy place, they often find earth- worms by simply turning over the dead leaves. If there should be, near by, a field that has been newly plowed, they will gather in numbers, at twilight, and search for worms. The Woodcock has short wings for his size. He seems to be able to fly very fast. You can imagine how he looks while flying — his long bill out in front and his legs hanging down. 3-1 THE AMERICAN SCOTER. HE specimen we give of the t I American Scoter is one of oj I unusual rarity and beauty of -^ plumage. It was seen off the government pier, in Chicago, in No- vember, 1895, and has been much admired. The Scoter has as many names as characteristics, being called the Sea Coot, the Butter-billed, and the Hollow- billed Coot. The plumage of the full grown male is entirely black, while the female is a sooty brown, becoming paler below. She is also somewhat smaller. This Duck is sometimes found in great numbers along the entire Atlan- tic coast where it feeds on small shell fish which it secures by diving. A few nest in Labrador, and in winter it is found in New Jersey, on the Great Lakes, and in California. The neigh- borhoods of marshes and ponds are its haunts, and in the Hudson Bay region the Scoter nests in June and July. The nest is built on the ground near water. Coarse grass, feathers, and down are commonly used to make it comfortable, while it is well secreted in hollows in steep banks and cliffs. The eggs are from six to ten, of a dull buff color. Prof. Cooke states that on May 2, 1883, fifty of these ducks were seen at Anna, Union county, Illinois, all busily engaged in picking up millet seed that had just been sown. If no mistake of identification was made in this case, the observation apparently reveals a new fact in the habits of the species, which has been supposed to feed exclusively in the water, and to subsist generally on fishes and other aquatic animal food. OLD ABE. "I'd rather capture Old Abe," said Gen. Sterling Price, of the Confederate Army, whole brigade." than a LD ABE" was the live war Eagle which accom- panied the Eighth Wis- consin regiment, during the War of the Rebellion. Much of a more or less problematical character has been written about him, but what we regard as authentic we shall pre- sent in this article. Old Abe was a fine specimen of the Bald Eagle, very like the one figure^ in this number of BIRDS. Various stories are told of his capture, but the most trustworthy ac- count is that Chief Sky, a Chippewa Indian, took him from the nest while an Eaglet. The nest was found on a pine tree in the Chippewa country, about three miles from the mouth of the Flambeau, near some rapids in the river. He and another Indian cut the tree down, and, amid the menaces of the parent birds, secured two young Eagles about the size of Prairie Hens. One of them died. The other, which lived to become historical, was sold to Daniel McCann for a bushel of corn. McCann carried it to Eau Claire, and presented it to a company then being organized as a part of the Eighth Wisconsin Infantry. What more appropriate emblem than the American Bald Headed Bird could have been thus selected by the patriots who composed this regiment of free- men ! The Golden Eagle (of which we shall hereafter present a splendid specimen,) with extended wings, was the ensign of the Persian monarchs, long before it was adopted by the Romans. And the Persians borrowed the symbol from the Assyrians. In fact, the symbolical use of the Eagle is of very remote antiquity. It was the insignia of Egypt, of the Etruscans, was the sacred bird of the Hindoos, and of the Greeks, who connected him with Zeus, their supreme deity. With the Scandinavians the Eagle is the bird of wisdom. The double-headed Eagle was in use among the Byzantine emperors, " to indicate their claims to the empire of both the east and the west." It was adopted in the I4th century by the German emperors. The arms of Prussia were disting- uished by the Black Eagle, and those of Poland by the White. The great Napoleon adopted it as the em- blem of Imperial France. Old Abe was called by the soldiers the "new recruit from Chippewa," and sworn into the service of the United States by encircling his neck with red, white, and blue ribbons, and by placing on his breast a rosette of colors, after which he was carried by the regiment into every engagement in which it participated, perched upon a shield in the shape of a heart. A few inches above the shield was a grooved crosspiece for the Eagle to rest upon, on either end of which were three arrows. When in line Old Abe was always carried on the left of the color bearer, in the van of the regi- ment. The color bearer wore a belt to which was attached a socket for the end of the staff, which was about five feet in length. Thus the Eagle was high above the bearer's head, in plain sight of the column. A ring of leather was fastened to one of the Eagle's legs to which was connected a strong hemp cord about twenty feet long. Old Abe was the hero of about twenty-five battles, and as many skirmishes. Remarkable as it may appear, not one bearer of the flag, or of the Eagle, always shining marks for the enemy's rifles, was ever shot down. 35 Once or twice Old Abe suffered the loss of a few feathers, but he was never wounded. The great bird enjoyed the excite- ment of carnage. In battle he flapped his wings, his eyes blazed, and with piercing screams, which arose above the noise of the conflict, seemed to urge the company on to deeds of valor. David McLane, who was the first color bearer to carry him into battle, said: "Old Abe, like all old soldiers, seemed to dread the sound of musketry but with the roll of artillery he ap- peared to be in his glory. Then he screamed, spread his wings at every discharge, and reveled in the roar and smoke of the big guns." A corres- pondent who watched him closely said that when a battle had fairly begun Old Abe jumped up and down on his perch with such wild and fearful screams as an eagle alone can utter. The louder the battle, the fiercer and wilder were his screams. Old Abe varied his voice in accord with his emotions. When surprised he whistled a wild melody of a melan- choly softness ; when hovering over his food he gave a spiteful chuckle; when pleased to see an old friend he seemed to say: u How do you do ? " with a plaintive cooing. In battle his scream was wild and commanding, a succession of five or six notes with a startling trill that was inspiring to the soldiers. Strangers could not ap- proach or touch him with safety, though members of the regiment who treated him with kindness were cor- dially recognized by him. Old Abe had his particular friends, as well as some whom he regarded as his enemies. There were men in the company whom he would not permit to approach him. He would fly at and tear them with his beak and talons. But he would never fight his bearer. He knew his own regiment from every other, would always accompany its cheer, and never that of any other regiment. Old Abe more than once escaped, but was always lured by food to return. He never seemed disposed to depart to the blue empyrean, his ancestral home. Having served three years, a portion of the members of Company C were mustered out, and Old Abe was pre- sented to the state of Wisconsin. For many years, on occasions of public exercise or review, like other illustrious veterans, he excited in parade universal and enthusiastic attention. He occupied pleasant quarters in the State Capitol at Madison, Wisconsin, until his death at an advanced age. THE SNOWY HERON. " What does it cost this garniture of death? It costs the life which God alone can give ; It costs dull silence where was music's breath, It costs dead joy, that foolish pride may live. Ah, life, and joy, and song, depend upon it, Are costly trimmings for a woman's bonnet ! " —MAY RILEY SMITH. EMPERATE and tropical Am- erica, from Long Island to Oregon, south to Buenos Ay- res, may be considered the home of the Snowy Heron, though it is sometimes seen on the Atlantic coast as far as Nova Scotia. It is sup- posed to be an occasional summer res- ident as far north as Long Island, and it is found along the entire gulf coast and the shores of both oceans. It is called the Little White Egret, and is no doubt the handsomest bird of the tribe. It is pure white, with a crest composed of many long hair like feathers, a like plume on the lower neck, and the same on the back, which are recurved when perfect. Snowy Herons nest in colonies, pre- ferring willow bushes in the marshes for this purpose. The nest is made in the latter part of April or early June. Along the gulf coast of Florida, they nest on ihe Mangrove Islands, and in the interior in the willow ponds and swamps, in company with the Louisi- ana and Little Blue Herons. The nest is simply a platform of sticks, and from two to five eggs are laid. Alas, plume hunters have wrought such destruction to these lovely birds that very few are now found in the old nesting places. About 1889, accord- ing to Mr. F. M. Woodruff, this bird was almost completely exterminated in Florida, the plume hunters transfer- ring their base of operation to the Texas coast of the Gulf, and the bird is now in a fair way to be utterly destroyed there also. He found them very rare in 1891 at Matagorda Bay, Texas. This particular specimen is a remarkably fine one, from the fact that it has fifty-two plumes, the ordinary number being from thirty to forty. Nothing for some time has been more commonly seen than the delicate airy plumes which stand upright in ladies' bonnets. These little feathers, says a recent writer, were provided by nature as the nuptial adornment of the White Heron. Many kind-hearted women who would not on any account do a cruel act, are, by following this fashion, causing the continuance of a great cruelty. If ladies who are seem- ingly so indifferent to the inhumanity practiced by those who provide them with this means of adornment would apply to the Humane Education Com- mittee, Providence, R. I., for informa- tion on the subject, they would them- selves be aroused to the necessity of doing something towards the protec- tion of our birds. Much is, however, being done by good men and women to this end. The Little Egret moves through the air with a noble and rapid flight. It is curious to see it pass directly overhead. The head, body and legs are held in line, stiff and immovable, and the gently waving wings carry the bird along with a rapidity that seems the effect of magic. An old name of this bird was Hern, or Hernshaw, from which was derived the saying, " He does not know a Hawk from a Hernshaw." The last word has been corrupted into " hand- saw," rendering the proverb meaning- less. 39 SUMMARY Page 3. BALD EAGLE. — Haliczetus leucocephalus. Other names: "White-headed Eagle," "Bird of Washington," " Gray Eagle," "Sea Eagle." Dark brown. Head, tail, and tail coverts white. Tarsus, naked. Young with little or no white. RANGE — North America, breeding through- out its range. NEST — Generally in tall trees. EGGS — Two or three, dull white. Page 8. SEMI-PALMATED PLOVER.— ^Egialitis semi-palmetto,. Other names: " American Ring Plover," "Ring Neck," "Beach Bird." Front, throat, ring around neck, and entire under parts white ; band of deep black across the breast ; upper parts ashy brown. Toes con- nected at base. RANGE — North America in general, breeding in the Arctic and sub-arctic districts, winters from the Gulf States to Brazil. NEST — Depression in the ground, with lining of dry grass. EGGS — Three or four ; buffy white, spotted with chocolate. Page ii MALLARD DUCK.— Anas boschas. Other names : ' ' Green-head , " " Wild Duck. ' ' Adult male, in fall, winter, and spring, beauti- fully colored ; summer, resembles female — sombre. RANGE — Northern parts of Northern Hemis- phere. NEST — Of grasses, on the ground, usually near the water. EGGS — Six to ten ; pale green or bluish white. Page 15. AMERICAN AVOCET. — Recurvirostra americana. Other names: "White Snipe," "Yelper," "Lawyer," "Scooper." RANGE — Temperate North America. NEST — A slight depression in the ground. EGGS — Three or four; pale olive or buffy clay color, spotted with chocolate. Page 20. CANVAS -BACK. — Ay thy a vallisneria. Other names: "White-back," "Bull-neck," "Red -headed Bull-neck." RANGE — North America. Breeds only in the interior, from northwestern states to the Arctic circle ; south in winter to Guatemala. NEST — On- the ground, in marshy lakesides. EGGS — Six to ten; buffy white, with bluish tinge. Page 21. WOOD DUCK.— Aix sponsa. Coloring,, varied ; most beautiful of ducks. Other names: "Summer Duck," "Bridal Duck," "Wood Widgeon," "Tree Duck." RANGE — North America. Breeds from Florida to Hudson's Bay ; winters south. NEST — Made of grasses, usually placed in a hole in tree or stump. EGGS — Eight to fourteen ; pale, buffy white. Page 26. SNAKE BIRD. — Anhinga anhinga. Other names: " Water Turkey," "Darter," "Water Crow," " Grecian Lady." RANGE — Tropical and sub-tropical America. NEST — Of sticks, lined with moss, rootlets, etc., in a bush or tree over the water. EGGS — Two to four ; bluish white, with a chalky deposit. Page 30. AMERICAN WOODCOCK. — Philohela minor. Other names : "Bog-sucker," "Mud Snipe," " Blind Snipe." RANGE — Eastern North America, breeding throughout its range. NEST — Of dried leaves, on the ground. EGGS — Four ; buffy, spotted with shades of rufous. Page 33. WHITE-WINGED SCOTER. — Oidemia deglandi. Other names: "American Velvet Scoter," ''White-winged Coot," "Uncle Sam Coot." RANGE — Northern North America ; breeding in Labrador and the fur countries ; south in winter. NEST — On the ground, beneath bushes. EGGS — Six to ten ; pale, dull buff. Page 38. SNOWY HERON.— Ardea candidissima. Other names : ' ' Little Egret, " " White-crested Egret," "White Poke." RANGE — Tropical and temperate America. NEST — A platform of sticks, in bushes, over water. EGGS — Three to five ; pale, dull blue. 40 BIRDS. ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRf\P«Y. VOL. II. AUGUST. No. 2. BIRD SONG. E made several early morn- ing excursions into the woods and fields during the month of June, and were abundantly rewarded in many ways — by beholding the gracious awakening of Nature in her various forms, kissed into renewed activity by the radiance of morn ; by the sweet smelling air filled with the perfume of a multitude of opening flowers which had drunk again the dew of heaven; by the sight of flitting clouds across the bluest of skies, patching the green earth with moving shadows, and sweet- est of all, by the twittering, calling, musical sounds of love and joy which came to the ear from the throats of the feathered throng. How pleasant to lie prone on one's back on the cool grass, and gaze upward through the shady green canopy of boughs, watch- ing the pretty manoevers, the joyous greetings, the lively anxieties, the graceful movements, and even the sorrowful happenings of the bird-life above us. Listen to the variety of their tones, as manifest as the difference of form and color. What more interesting than to observe their habits, and dis- cover their cosy nests with their beau- tiful eggs in the green foliage? Strange that so many persons think only of making a collection of them, robbing the nests with heartless indifference to the suffering of the parents, to say nothing of the invasion which they make of the undoubted rights the birds have from nature to protection and perpetuation. Strictly speaking, there are few birds to which the word "singing" can properly be applied, the majority of them not having more than two or three notes, and they with little sug- gestion of music in them. Chanti- cleer crows, his spouse cackles or clucks, as may be suitable to the occasion. To what ear are these noises musical? They are rather lang- uage, and, in fact, the varying notes of every species of bird have a significance which can alone be interpreted by its peculiar habits. If careful note be made of the immediate conduct of the male or female bird, as the case may be, after each call or sound, the mean- ing of it becomes plain. A hen whose chicks are scattered in search of food, upon seeing a hawk, utters a note of warning which we have all heard, and the young scamper to her for protection beneath her wings. When she has laid an egg, Gut-cut-cut-cut-dt-cut! announces it from the nest in the barn. When the chicks are hatched, her cluck, cluck, cluck, calls them from the nest in the wide world, and her chick, chick, chick, uttered quickly, selects for them the dainty which she has found, or teaches them what is proper for their diet. A good listener will detect enough intonations in her voice to constitute a consid- erable vocabulary, which, if imitated [CONTINUKD ON PAGE 57.] 41 THE AMERICAN OSPREY. Here is the picture of a remarkable bird. We know him better by the name Fish Hawk. He looks much like the Eagle in July " BIRDS." The Osprey has no use for Mr. Eagle though. You know the Bald Eagle or Sea Eagle is very fond of fish. Well, he is not a very good fisherman and from his lofty perch he watches for the Fish Hawk or Osprey. Do you ask why ? Well, when he sees a Fish Hawk with his prey, he is sure to chase him and take it from him. It is for this reason that Ospreys dislike the Bald Eagle. Their food is fish, which as a rule they catch alive. It must be interesting to watch the Osprey at his fishing. He wings his way slowly over the water, keeping a watch for fish as they appear near the surface. When he sees one that suits him, he hovers a moment, and then, closing his wings, falls upon the fish. Sometimes he* strikes it with such force that he disappears in the water for a moment. Soon we see him rise from the water with the prey in his claws. He then flies to some tall tree and if he has not been discovered by his enemy, the Eagle, can have a good meal for his hard work. Look at his claws ; then think of them striking a fish as they must when he plunges from on high. A gentleman tells of an Osprey that fastened his claws in a fish that was too large for him. The fish drew him under and nothing more was seen of Mr. Osprey. 'Flic same gentleman tells of a fish weighing six pounds that fell from the claws of a Fish Hawk that became frightened by an Eagle. The Osprey builds his nest much like the Bald Eagle. It is usually found in a tall tree and out of reach. Like the Eagle, he uses the same nest each year, adding to it. Sometimes it measures five feet high and three feet across. One nest that was found, con- tained enough sticks, cornstalks, weeds, moss, and the like, to fill a cart, and made a load for a horse to draw. Like the Crows and Blackbirds they prefer to live together in numbers. Over three hundred nests have been found in the trees on a small island. One thing I want you to remember about the Osprey. They usually remain mated for life. From col. F. M. "WooJruff. \\ ^ OSPREY. yA Life size. THE AMERICAN OSPREY. North islands N interesting bird, " Winged Fisher," as he has been hap- pily called, is seen in places suited to his habits, throughout temperate America, particularly about and along the seacoast. At Shelter Island, New York, they are exceedingly variable in the choice of a nesting place. On Gardiner's Island they all build in trees at a distance varying from ten to seventy-five feet from the ground ; on Plum Island, where large numbers of them nest, many place their nests on the ground, some being built up to a height of four or five feet while others are simply a few sticks arranged in a circle, and the eggs laid on the bare sand. On Shelter Island they build on the chimneys of houses, and a pair had a nest on the cross-bar of a telegraph pole. Another pair had a nest on a large rock. These were made of coarse sticks and sea weed, anything handy, such as bones, old shoes, straw, etc. A curious nest was found some years ago on the coast of New Jersey. It contained three eggs, and securely imbedded in the loose material of the Osprey's nest was a nest of the Purple Crackle, containing five eggs, while at the bottom of the Hawk's nest was a thick, rotten limb, in which was a Tree Swallow's nest of seven eggs. In the spring and early autumn this familiar eagle-like bird can be seen hovering over creek, river, and sound. It is recognized by its popular name of Fish-Hawk. Following a school of fish, it dashes from a considerable height to seize its prey with its stout claws. If the fish is small it is at once swallowed, if it is large, (and the Os- prey will occasionally secure shad, blue fish, bass, etc., weighing five or six pounds,) the fish is carried to a convenient bluff or tree and torn to bits. The Bald Eagle often robs him of the fish by seizing it, or startling him so that he looses his hold. The Osprey when fishing makes one of the most breezy, spirited pictures connected with the feeding habits of any of our birds, 'as often there is a splashing and a struggle under water when the fish grasped is too large or the great talons of the bird gets entangled. He is sometimes carried under and drowned, and large fish have been washed ashore with these birds fastened to them by the claws. Mrs. Mabel Osgood Wright says: " I found an Osprey's nest in a crooked oak on Wakeman's Island in late April, 1893. As I could not get close to the nest (the island is between a network of small creeks, and the flood tides covered the marshes,) I at first thought it was a monstrous crow's nest, but on returning the second week in May I saw a pair of Ospreys coming and go- ing to and fro from the nest. I hoped the birds might return another season, as the nest looked as if it might have been used for two or three years, and was as lop-sided as a poorly made hay- stack. The great August storm of the same year broke the tree, and the nest fell, making quite a heap upon the ground. Among the debris were sticks of various sizes, dried reeds, two bits of bamboo fishing rod, seaweeds, some old blue mosquito netting, and some rags of fish net, also about half a bushel of salt hay in various stages of decomposition, and malodorous dirt galore." It is well known that Ospreys, if not disturbed, will continue indefin- ately to heap rubbish upon their nests till their bulk is very great. Like the Owls they can reverse the rear toe. 45 THE SORA RAIL. ARIOUS are the names re- quired to distinguish the little slate-colored Carolina Rail from its brethern, Sora, Common Rail, and, on the Potomac river, Ortolan, being among them. He is found throughout temperate North America, in the weedy swamps' of the Atlantic states in great abund- ance, in the Middle states, and in Cal- ifornia. In Ohio he is a common sum- mer resident, breeding in the exten- sive swamps and wet meadows. The nest is a rude affair made of grass and weeds, placed on the ground in a tus- sock of grass in a boggy tract of land, where there is a growth of briars, etc., where he may skulk and hide in the wet grass to elude observation. The nest may often be discovered at a dis- tance by the appearance of the sur- rounding grass, the blades of which are in many cases interwoven over the nest, apparently to shield the bird from the fierce rays of the sun, which are felt with redoubled force on the marshes. The Rails feed on both vegetable and animal food. During the months of September and October, the weeds and wild oats swarm with them. They feed on the nutricious seeds, small snail shells, worms and larvae of insects, which they extract from the mud. The habits of the Sora Rail, its thin, compressed body, its aversion to take wing, and the dexterity with which it runs or conceals itself among the grass and sedge, are exactly simi- lar to those of the more celebrated Virginia Rail. The Sora frequents those parts of marshes preferably where fresh water springs rise through the morass. Here it generally constructs its nest, " one of which," says an observer, " we had the good fortune to discover. It was built in the bottom of a tuft of grass in the midst of an almost impenetrable quagmire, and was composed alto- gether of old wet grass and rushes. The eggs had been flooded out of the nest by the extraordinary rise of the tide in a violent northwest storm, and lay scattered about the drift weed. The usual number of eggs is from six to ten. They are of a dirty white or pale cream color, sprinkled with specks of reddish and pale purple, most num- erous near the great end." When on the wing the Sora Rail flies in a straight line for a short distance with dangling legs, and suddenly drops into the water. The Rails have many foes, and many nests are robbed of their eggs by weasels, snakes, Blackbirds, and Marsh Hawks, although the last cannot disturb them easily, as the Marsh Hawk searches for its food while fly- ing and a majority of the Rails' nests are covered over, making it hard to distinguish them when the Hawk is above. 46 THE SORA RAIL, This is one of our fresh-water marsh birds. I show you his picture taken where he spends most of his time. If it were not for the note calls, these tall reeds and grasses would keep from us the secret of the RaiTs home. Like most birds, though, they must be heard, and so late in the afternoon you may hear their clear note, ker-wee. From all parts of the marsh you will hear their calls which they keep up long after darkness has set in. This Rail was just about to step out from the grasses to feed when the artist took his picture. See him — head up, and tail up. He steps along care- fully. He feels that it is risky to leave his shelter and is ready at" the first sign of danger, to dart back under cover. There are very few fresh- water marshes where the Rail is not found. \\hen a boy, I loved to hear their note calls and wTould spend hours on the edge of a marsh near my home. It seemed to me there was no life among the reeds and cat- tails of the marsh, but when I threw a stone among them, the Rails would always answer with their peeps or keeks, And so I used to go down to the marsh with my pockets filled with stones. Not that I desired or even expected to injure one of these birds. Far from it. It pleased me to hear their calls from the reeds and grass that seemed deserted. Those of you who live near wild-rice or wild-oat marshes have a good chance to become acquainted with this Rail. In the south these Rails are found keeping company with the Bobolinks or Reed-birds as they are called down there. THE KENTUCKY WARBLER. Although this bird is called the Kentucky Warbler, we must not think he visits that state alone. We find him all over eastern North America. And a beauti- ful bird he is. As his name tells you he is one of a family of Warblers. I told you somewhere else that the Finches are the largest family of birds. Next to them come the Warblers. Turn back now and see how many Warblers have been pic- tured so far. See if you can tell what things group them as a family. Notice their bills and feet. This bird is usually found in the dense woods, especially where there are streams of water. He is a good singer, and his song is very different from that of any of the other Warblers. I once watched one of these birds — olive-green above and yellow beneath. His mate was on a nest near by and he was entertaining her with his song. He kept it up over two hours, stopping only a few seconds between his songs. When I reached the spot with my field- glass I was attracted by his peculiar song. I don't know how long he had been singing. I stayed and spent two hours with him and he showed no signs of stopping. He may be singing yet. I hope he is. You see him here perched on a granite cliff. I suppose his nest is near by. He makes it of twigs and rootlets, with several thicknesses of leaves. It is neatly lined with fine rootlets and you will always find it on or near the ground. In the September and October number of u BIRDS " you will find several Warblers and Finches. Try to" keep track of them and may be you can do as many others have done — tell the names of new birds that come along by their pictures which you have seen in " BIRDS/' From col. F. M. Woodruff. KENTUCKY WARBLER. Life size. THE KENTUCKY WARBLER. ETWEEN sixty and seventy warblers are described by Davie in his "Nests and Eggs of North American Birds," and the Kentucky Warbler is recognized as one of the most beautiful of the number, in its manners almost the counterpart of the Golden Crowned Thrush (soon to delight the eyes of the readers of BIRDS), though it is altogether a more conspicuous bird, both on account of its brilliant plumage and greater activity, the males being, during the season of nesting, very pugnacious, continually chasing one another about the woods. It lives near the ground, making its artfully concealed nest among the low herbage and feeding in the undergrowth, the male singing from some old log or low bush, his song recalling that of the Cardinal, though much weaker. The ordinary note is a soft schip, somewhat like the common call of the Pewee. Considering its great abundance, says an observer, the nest of this charmer is very difficult to find; the female, he thought, must slyly leave the nest at the approach of an intruder, running beneath the herbage until a considerable distance from the nest, when, joined by her mate, the pair by their evident anxiety mislead the stranger as to its location. It has been declared that no group of birds better deserves the epithet "pretty "than the Warblers. Tanagers are splendid, Humming Birds reful- gent, others brilliant, gaudy, or mag- nificent, but Warblers alone are pretty. The Warblers are migratory birds, the majority of them passing rapidly across the United States in spring on the way to their northern nesting grounds, and in autumn to their winter residence within the tropics. When the apple trees bloom they revel among the flowers, vicing in activity and numbers with the bees ; "now probing the recesses of a blossom for an insect, then darting to another, where, poised daintily upon a slender twig, or suspended from it, they explore hastily but carefully for another morsel. Every movement is the personification of nervous activity, as if the time for their jonrney was short ; as, indeed, appears to be the case, for two or three days at most suf- fice some species in a single locality." We recently saw a letter from a gentleman living at Lake Geneva, in which he referred with enthusiasm to BIRDS, because it had enabled him to identify a bird which he had often seen in the apple trees among the blossoms, particularly the present season, with which he was unac- quainted by name. It was the Orchard Oriole, and he was glad to have a directory of nature which would enable him to add to his knowledge and correct errors of observation. The idea is a capitol one,and the beautiful Kentucky Warbler, unknown to many who see it often, may be recognized in the same way by residents of southern Indiana and Illinois, Kansas, some localities in Ohio, particularly in the southwestern portion, in parts of New York and New Jersey, in the District of Columbia, and in North Carolina. It has not heretofore been possible, even with the best painted specimens of birds in the hand, to satisfactorily identify the pretty creatures, but with BIRDS as a companion, which may readily be consulted, the student can- not be led into error. 53 THE RED BREASTED MERGANSER. HY this duck should be called red-breasted is not at first apparent, as at a a distance the color can not be distinguished, but seen near, the reason is plain. It is a common bird in the United States in winter, where it is found in suitable localities in the months of May and June. It is also a resident of the far north, breeding abundantly in Newfoundland, Labra- dor, Greenland, and Iceland. It is liberally supplied with names, as Red- breasted Goosander or Sheldrake, Gar- bill, Sea Robin, etc. There is a difference in opinion as to the nesting habits of the Red-breast, some authorities claiming that, like the Wood Duck, the nest is placed in the cavity of a tree, others that it is usually found on the ground among brushwood, surrounded with tall grasses and at a short distance from water. Davie says that most gener- ally it is concealed by a projecting rock or other object, the nest being made of leaves and mosses, lined with feathers and down, which are plucked from the breast of the bird. The ob- servers are all probably correct, the bird adapting itself to the situation. Fish is the chief diet of the Mergan- ser, for which reason its flesh is rank and unpalatable. The Bird's appetite is insatiable, devouring its food in such quantities that it has frequently to disgorge several times before it is able to rise from the water. This Duck can swallow fishes six or seven inches in length, and will attempt to swallow those of a larger size, choking in the effort. The term Merganser is derived from the plan of the bird's bill, which is furnished with saw teeth fitting into each other. The eggs of the Red -Breasted Mer- ganser vary from six to twelve, are oval in shape, and are of a yellowish or reddish-drab, sometimes a dull buffy-green. You may have seen pictures of this Duck, which frequently figures ;n dining rooms on the ornamental panels of stuffed game birds, but none which could cause you to remember its life- like appearance. You here see before you an actual Red-Breasted Merganser. 54 BIRD SONG— Continued from page 41. with exactness, will deceive Mistress Pullet herself. To carry the idea further, we will take the notes of some of the birds depicted in this number of BIRDS. The Osprey, or Fish-Hawk, has been carefully observed, and his only dis- covered note is a high, rapidly repeated whistle, very plaintive. Doubtless this noise is agreeable and intelligible to his mate, but cannot be called a song, and has no significance to the listener. The Vulture utters a low, hissing sound when disturbed. This is its only note. Not so with the Bald Eagle, whose scream emulates the rage of the tempest, and implies courage, the quality which associates him with patriotism and freedom. In the notes of the Partridge there is a meaning recognizable by every one. After the nesting season, when the birds are in bevies, their notes are changed to what sportsmen term "scatter calls.'' Not long after a bevy has been flushed, and perhaps widely scattered, the members of the disunited family may be heard signaling to one another in sweet minor calls of two and three notes, and in excitement, they utter low, twittering notes. Of the Sora Rails, Mr. Chapman says, " knowing their calls, you have only to pass a May or June evening near a marsh to learn whether they inhabit it. If there, they will greet you late in the afternoon with a clear whistled ker-wee, which soon comes from dozens of invisible birds about you, and long after night has fallen, it continues like a springtime chorus of piping hylas. Now and again it is interrupted by a high-voiced, rolling whinney, which, like a call of alarm, is taken up and repeated by different birds all over the marsh." Poor Red-breasted Merganser ! He has only one note, a croak. Perhaps it was of him that Bryant was think- ing when he wrote the stanzas " To a Water- Fowl.'' " The sentiment of feeling awakened by any of the aquatic fowls is pre- eminently one of loneliness," say s John Burroughs. " The Wood Duck (see July BIRDS) which you approach, starts from the pond or the marsh, the Loon neighing down out of the April sky, the Wild Goose, the Curlew, the Stork, the Bittern, the Sandpiper, etc., awaken quite a different train of emo- tions from those awakened by the land birds. They all have clinging to them some reminiscence and suggestion of the sea. Their cries echo its wildness and desolation ; their wings are the shape of its billows." But the Evening Grosbeak, the Kentucky Warbler, the Skylark, land birds all, are singers. They have music in their throats and in their souls, though of varying quality. The Grosbeak's note is described by differ- ent observers as a shrill chcepy tee and a frog-like peep, while one writer re- marks that the males have a single metallic cry like the note of a trumpet, and the females a loud chattering like the large Cherry Birds. The Kentucky Warbler's song is entirely unlike that of any other Warbler, and is a loud, clearly whis- tled performance of five, six, or seven notes, turdle, turdle, turdle, resembling in tone some of the calls of the Caro- lina Wren. He is so persistent in his singing, however, that the Red-Breasted Merganser's simple croak would some- times be preferable to it. "But the Skylark— "All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams and heaven is over-flowed." — C. C. MARBLE. 57 THE YELLOW LEGS. Xx?)/^ \X/ELL< ,OW LEGS, or Lesser v( Tell tale sometimes called |g) Yellow-leg Snipe, and Little Cucu, inhabits the whole of North America, nesting in the cold temperate and subarctic districts of the northern continent, migrating south in winter to Argentine and Chili. It is much rarer in the western than eastern province of North America, and is only accidental in Europe. It is one of the wading birds, its food con- sisting of larvae of insects, small shell fish and the like. The nest of the Lesser Yellow Shanks, which it is sometimes called, is a mere depression in the ground, without any lining. Sometimes, how- ever, it is placed at the foot of a bush, with a scanty lining of withered leaves. Four eggs of light drab, buffy or cream color, sometimes of light brown, are laid, and the breast of the female is found to be bare of feathers when en- gaged in rearing the young. • The Lesser Yellow legs breeds in central Ohio and Illinois, where it is a regular summer resident, arriving about the middle of April, the larger portion of flocks passing north early in May and returning about the first of September to remain until the last of October. A nest of this species of Snipe was found situated in a slight depression at the base of a small hillock near the border of a prairie slough near Evans- ton, Illinois, and was made of grass stems and blades. The color of the eggs in this instance was a deep gray- ish white, three of w hich were marked with spots of dark brown, and the fourth egg with spots and well defined blotches of a considerably lighter shade of the same. THE SKYLARK. This is not an American bird. I have allowed his picture to be taken and placed here because so many of our English friends desired it. The skylark is probably the most noted of birds in Europe. He is found in all of the coun- tries of Europe, but England seems to claim it. Here it stays during the summer, and goes south in the winter. Like our own Meadow Lark, he likes best to stay in the fields. Here you will find it when not on the wing. Early in the spring the Sky- lark begins his song, and he may be heard for most of the year. Sometimes he sings while on the ground, but usually it is while he is soaring far above us. Skylarks do not often seek the company of persons. There are some birds, you know, that seem happy only when they are near people. Of course, they are somewhat shy, but as a rule they prefer to be near people. While the Skylark does not seek to be near persons, yet it is not afraid of them. A gentleman, while riding through the country, was sur- prised to see a Skylark perch on his saddle. When he tried to touch it, the Lark moved along on the horse's back, and finally dropped under the horse's feet. Here it seemed to hide. The rider, looking up, saw a hawk flying about. This explained the cause of the skylark's strange actions. A pair of these Larks had built their nest in a meadow. When the time came for mow- ing the grass, the little ones were not large enough to leave the nest. The mother bird laid herself flat on the ground, with her wings spread out. The father bird took one of the little ones from the nest and placed it on the mother's back. She flew away, took the baby bird to a safe place, and came back for another. This time the father took his turn. In this way they carried the little ones to a safe place be- fore the mowers came. Like our Meadow Lark, the Skylark builds her nest on the ground — never in bushes or trees. Usually it is built in a hole below the surface of the ground. It is for this reason that it is hard to find. Then, too, the color of the nest is much like that of the ground. Four or five eggs are usually laid, and in two weeks the little larks crack the shells, and come into the world crying for worms and bugs. THE SKYLARK. HE English Skylark has been more celebrated in poetry than any other song-bird. Shel- ley's famous poem is too long to quote and too symmetrical to present in fragmentary form. It is almost as musical as the sweet singer itself. ' By the first streak of dawn," says one familiar with the Skylark, "he bounds from the dripping herbage, and on fluttering wings mounts the air for a few feet ere giving forth his cheery notes. Then upward, appar- ently without effort he sails, sometimes drifting far away as he ascends, borne as it were by the ascending vapors, so easily he mounts the air. His notes are so pure and sweet, and yet so loud and varied withal, that when they first disturb the air of early morning all the other little feathered tenants of the fields and hedgerows seem irresistibly compelled to join him in filling the air with melody. Upwards, ever up- wards, he mounts, until like a speck in the highest ether he appears motion- less ; yet still his notes are heard, lovely in their faintness, now gradually growing louder and louder as he descends, until within a few yards of the earth they cease, and he drops like a fragment hurled from above into the herbage, or flits about it for a short distance ere alighting." The Lark sings just as richly on the ground as when on quivering wing. When in song he is said to be a good guide to the weather, for whenever we see him rise into the air, despite the gloomy looks of an overcast sky, fine weather is invariably at hand. The nest is most frequently in the grass fields, sometimes amongst the young corn, or in places little fre- quented. It is made of dry grass and moss, and lined with fibrous roots and a little horse hair. The eggs, usually four or five in number, are dull white, spotted, clouded, and blotched over the entire surface with brownish green. The female Lark, says Dixon, like all ground birds, is a very close sitter,. remaining faithful to her charge. She regains her nest by dropping to the ground a hundred yards or more from its concealment. The food of the Lark is varied, — in spring and summer, insects and their larvae, and worms and slugs, in autumn and winter, seeds. Olive Thome Miller tells this pretty anecdote of a Skylark which she emancipated from a bird store: " I bought the 'skylark, though I did not want him. I spared no pains to make the stranger happy. I procured a beautiful sod of uncut fresh grass, of which he at once took possession, crouching or sitting low among the stems, and looking most bewitching. He seemed contented, and uttered no more that appealing cry, but he did not show much intelligence. His cage had a broad base behind which he delighted to hide, and for hours as I sat in the room I could see nothing of him, although I would hear him stir- ring about. If I rose from my seat he was instantly on the alert, and stretched his head up to look over at me. I tried to get a better view of him by hanging a small mirror at an angle over his cage, but he was so much frightened by it that I removed it." "This bird," Mrs. Miller says "never seemed to know enough to go home. Even when very hungry he would stand before his wide open door, where one step would take him into his beloved grass thicket, and yet that one step he would not take. When his hunger became intolerable he ran around the room, circled about his cage, looking in, recognizing his food dishes, and trying eagerly to get between the wires to reach them ; and yet when he came before the open door he would stand and gaze, but never go in. After five months' trial, during which he displayed no particular intelligence, and never learned to enter his cage, he passed out of the bird room, but not into a store." WILSON'S PHALAROPE. the most interest- ing, as it is certainly the most uncommon, charac- teristic of this species of birds is that the male re- lieves his mate from all domestic duties except the laying of the eggs. He usually chooses a thin tuft of grass on a level spot, but often in an open place concealed by only a few strag- gling blades. He scratches a shallow depression in the soft earth, lines it with a thin layer of fragments of old grass blades, upon which the eggs, three or four, are laid about the last of May or first of June. Owing to the low situation in which the nest is placed, the first set of eggs are often destroyed by a heavy fall of rain caus- ing the water to rise so as to submerge the nest. The instinct of self preser- vation in these birds, as in many others, seems lacking in this respect. A second set, numbering two or three, is often deposited in a depression scratched in the ground, as at first, but with no sign of any lining. Wilson's Phalarope is exclusively an American bird, more common in the interior than along the sea coast. The older ornithologists knew little of it. It is now known to breed in northern Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota, the Dakotas, Utah, and Oregon. It is recorded as a summer resident in northern Indiana and in western Kansas. Mr. E. W. Nelson states that it is the most common species in northern Illinois, frequent- ing grassy marshes and low prairies, and is not exceeded in numbers even by the ever-present Spotted Sandpiper. While it was one of our most common birds in the Calumet region it is now becoming scarce. The adult female of this beautiful species is by far the handsomest of the small waders. The breeding plumage is much brighter and richer than that of the male, another peculiar charac- teristic, and the male alone possesses the naked abdomen. The female always remains near the nest while he is sitting, and shows great solicitude upon the approach of an intruder. The adults assume the winter plumage during July. 67 THE EVENING GROSBEAK. " ^) ANDSOMER birds there may be, but in the opinion of many this visitant to / various portions of west- ern North America is in shape, color, and markings one of the most exquisite of the feather- wearers. It has for its habitation the region extending from the plains to the Pa- cific ocean and from Mexico into British America. Toward the North it ranges further to the east ; so that, while it appears to be not uncommon about Lake Superior, it has been reported as occuring in Ohio, New York, and Can- ada. In Illinois it was observed at Freeport during the winter of 1870 and 1871, and at Waukegan during January, 1873. It is a common resi- dent of the forests of the State of Washington, and also of Oregon. In the latter region Dr. Merrill observed the birds carrying building material to a huge fir tree, but was unable to locate the nest, and the tree was practically inaccessable. Mr. Walter E. Bryant was the first to record an authentic nest and eggs of the Evening Gros- beak. In a paper read before the Cal- ifornia Academy of Sciences he de- scribes a nest of this species containing four eggs, found in Yolo county, Cal- ifornia. The nest was built in a small live oak, at a height of ten feet, and was composed of small twigs support- ing a thin -layer of fibrous bark and a lining of horse hair. The eggs are of a clear greenish-ground color, blotched with pale brown. According to Mr. Davie, one of the leading authorities on North American birds, little if any more information has been obtained regarding the nests and eggs of the Evening Grosbeak. As to its habits, Mr. O. P. Day says, that about the year 1872, while hunt- ing during fine autumn weather in the woods about Eureka, Illinois, he fell in with a number of these Grosbeaks. They were feeding in the tree tops no the seeds of the sugar maple, just then ripening, and were excessively fat. They were very unsuspicious, and for a long time suffered him to observe them. They also ate the buds of the cottonwood tree in company with the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak. The song of the Grosbeak is singu- larly like that of the Robin, and to one not thoroughly familiar with the notes of the latter a difference would not at first be detected. There is a very decided difference, however, and by repeatedly listening to both species in full voice it will be discovered more and more clearly. The sweet and gentle strains of music harmonize de- lightfully, and the concert they make is well worth the careful attention of the discriminating student. The value of such study will be admitted by all who know how little is known of the songsters. A gentleman recently said to us that one day in November the greater part of the football field at the south end of Lincoln Park was covered with Snow Birds. There were also on the field more than one hundred grammar and high school boys waiting the arrival of the foot- ball team. There was only one person present who paid any atten- tion to the birds which were picking up the food, twittering, hopping, and flying about, and occasionally indulg- ing in fights, and all utterly oblivious of the fact that there were scores of shouting school boys around and about them. The gentleman called the attention of one after another of ten of the high school boys to the snow birds and asked what they were. They one and all declared they were Eng- lish Sparrows, and seemed astounded that any one could be so ignorant as not to know what an English Sparrow was. So much for the city-bred boy's observation of birds. 68 THE EVENING GROSBEAK. In the far Northwest we find this beautiful bird the year around. During the winter he often comes farther south in company with his cousin, the Hose-breasted Grosbeak. What a beautiful sight it must be to see a flock of these birds — Evening Grosbeaks and Hose-breasted in their pretty plumage. Grosbeaks belong to a family called Finches. The Sparrows, Buntings, and Crossbills belong to the same family. It is the largest family among birds. You will notice that they all have stout bills. Their food is mostly grains and their bills are well formed to crush the seeds. Look at your back numbers of BIRDS " and notice the pictures of the other Finches I have named. Don't you think Dame Nature is very generous with her colors sometimes ? Only a few days ago while strolling through the woods with my field glass, I saw a pretty sight. On one tree I saw a Red- headed Woodpecker, a Flicker, an Indigo Bunting, and a Rose- breasted jGrrosbeak. I thought then, if we could only have the Evening Grosbeak our group of colors would be complete. Have you ever wondered at some birds being so prettily dressed while others have such dull colors ? Some people say that the birds who do not sing must have bright feathers to make them attractive. We cannot believe this. Some of our bright colored birds are sweet singers, and surely many of our dull colored birds cannot sing very well. Next month you will see the pictures of several home birds. See if dull colors have anything to do with sweet song. THE TURKEY VULTURE. This bird is found mostly in the southern states. Here he is known by the more common name of Turkey Buzzard. He looks like a noble bird but he isn't. While he is well fitted for flying, and might, if he tried, catch his prey, he prefers to eat dead animals. . The people down south never think of burying a dead horse or cow. They just drag it out away from their homes and leave it to the Vultures who are sure to dispose of it. It is very seldom that they attack a live animal. They will even visit the streets of the cities in search of dead animals for food, and do not show much fear of man. Often- times they are found among the chickens and ducks in the barn- yard, but have never been known to kill any. One gentleman who has studied the habits of the Vulture says that it has been known to suck the eggs of Herons. This is not common, though. As I said they prefer dead animals for their food and even eat their own dead. The Vulture is very graceful while on the wing. He sails along and you can hardly see his wings move as he circles about looking for food on the ground below. Many people think the Vulture looks much like our tame tur- key. If you know of a turkey near by, just compare this picture with it and you won't think so. See how chalk -white his bill is. No feathers on his head, but a bright red skin' What do think of the young chick ? It doesn't seem as though he could ever be the large, heavy bird his parent seems to be. Now turn back to the first page of July " BIRDS " and see how he differs from the Eagle. THE TURKEY VULTURE. URKEY BUZZARD is the familiar name applied to this bird, on account of his remark- able resemblance to our com- mon Turkey. This is the only respect however, in which they are alike. It inhabits the United States and British Provinces from the Atlantic to the Pacific, south through Central and most of South America. Every farmer knows it to be an industrious scaven- ger, devouring at all times the putrid or decomposing flesh of carcasses. They are found in flocks, not only flying and feeding in company, but resorting to the same spot to roost ; nesting also in communities ; deposit- ing their eggs on the ground, on rocks, or in hollow logs and stumps, usually in thick woods or in a sycamore grove, in the bend or fork of a stream. The nest is frequently built in a tree, or in the cavity of a sycamore stump, though a favorite place for depositing the eggs is a little depression under a small bush or overhanging rock on a steep hillside. Renowned naturalists have long argued that the Vulture does not have an extraordinary power of smell, but, according to Mr. Davie, an excellent authority, it has been proven by the most satisfactory experiments that the Turkey Buzzard does possess a keen sense of smell by which it can dis- tinguish the odor of flesh at a great distance. The flight of the Turkey Vulture is truly beautiful, and no landscape with its patches of green woods and grassy fields, is perfect without its dignified figure high in the air, moving round in circles, steady, graceful and easy, and apparently without effort. " It sails," says Dr. Brewer, "with a steady, even motion, with wings just above the horizontal position, with their tips slightly raised, rises from the ground with a single bound, gives a few flaps of the wings, and then proceeds with its peculiar soaring flight, rising very high in the air." The Vulture pictured in the accom- panying plate was obtained between the Brazos river and Matagorda bay. With it was found the Black Vulture, both nesting upon the ground. As the nearest trees were .thirty or forty miles distant these Vultures were always found in this situation. The birds selected an open spot beneath a heavy growth of bushes, placing the eggs upon the bare ground. The old bird when approached would not attempt to leave the nest, and in the case of the young bird in the plate, the female to protect it from harm, promptly dis- gorged the putrid contents of her stomach, which was so offensive that the intruder had to close his nostrils with one hand while he reached for the young bird with the other. The Turkey Vulture is a very silent bird, only uttering a hiss of defiance or warning to its neighbors when feed- ing, or a low gutteral croak of alarm when flying low overhead. The services of the Vultures as scav- engers in removing offal render them valuable, and almost a necessity in southern cities. If an animal is killed and left exposed to view, the bird is sure to find out the spot in a very short time, and to make its appearance as if called by some magic spell from the empty air. ' ' Never stoops the soaring Vulture On his quarry in the desert, On the sick or wounded bison, But another Vulture, watching, From, his high aerial lookout, Sees the downward plunge and follows; And a third pursues the second, Coming from the invisible ether, First a speck, and then a Vulture, Till the air is dark with pinions." 75 TO A WATER FOWL. Whither, 'midst falling dew While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocky billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side. There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere, Yet stooprnot, weary, to the welcome land Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and nest, And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet on my heart Deeply has sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright. WIGWAM GULDEN BRYANT. From col, F. M. Woodruff. GAMBEL'S PARTRIDGE. l/t Life size. CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO. GAMBEL'S PARTRIDGE. AMBEL'S PARTRIDGE, of which comparatively little is known, is a characteristic game bird of Arizona and New Mexico, of rare beauty, and with habits similar to others of the species of which there about two hundred. Mr. W. E. D. Scott found the species distributed throughout the entire Cat- alina region in Arizona below an alti- tude of 5,000 feet. The bird is also known as the Arizona Quail. The nest is made in a depression in the ground sometimes without any lining. From eight to sixteen eggs are laid. They are most beautifully marked on a creamy-white ground with scattered spots and blotches of old gold, and sometimes light drab and chestnut red. In some specimens the gold coloring is so pronounced that it strongly suggests :o the imagination that this quail feeds upon the grains of the precious metal which character- izes its home, and that the pigment is imparted to the eggs. After the nesting season these birds commonly gather in "coveys" or bevies, usually composed of the members 'of but one family. As a rule they are terrestrial, but may take to trees when flushed. They are game birds par excellence, and, says Chapman, trusting to the concealment afforded by their dull colors, attempt to avoid detection by hiding rather than by flying. The flight is rapid and accompanied by a startling whirr, caused by the quick strokes of their small, concave, stiff- feathered wings. They roost on the ground, tail to tail, with heads point- ing outward ; " a bunch of closely huddled forms — a living bomb whose explosion is scarcely less startling than that of dynamite manufacture." The Partridge is on all hands ad- mitted to be wholly harmless, and at times beneficial to the agriculturist. It is an undoubted fact that it thrives with the highest system of cultivation, and the lands that are the most care- fully tilled, and bear the greatest quan- tity of grain and green crops, generally produce the greatest number of Part- ridges. 79 SUMMARY. Page 43. AMERICAN OSPREY.— Pandion paliaetus carolinensis. RANGE — North America; breeds from Florida to Labrador ; winters from South Carolina to northern South America. NEST — Generally in a tree, thirty to fifty feet from the ground, rarely on the ground. EGGS — Two to four ; generally buffy white, heavily marked with chocolate. Page 48. SORA RAIL. — Porzana Carolina. RANGE — Temperate North America, south to the West Indies and northern South America. NEST — Of grass and reeds, placed on the ground in a tussock of grass, where there is a growth of briers. EGGS — From seven to fourteen ; of a ground color, of dark cream or drab, with reddish brown spots. Page 51. KENTUCKY WARBLER. — Geothlypis formosa. RANGE — Eastern United States ; breeds from the Gulf States to Iowa and Connecticut ; winters in Central America. NEST — Bulky, of twigs and rootlets, firmly wrapped with leaves, on or near the ground. EGGS — Four or five ; white or grayish white, speckled or blotched with rufous. Page 55 RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. — Mer- ganset Serrator. RANGE — Northern parts of the Northern Hemisphere ; in America breeds from northern Illinois and New Brunswick northward to the arctic regions ; winters southward to Cuba. NEST — Of leaves, grasses, mosses, etc., lined with down, on the ground near water, among rocks or scrubby bushes. EGGS — Six to twelve ; creamy buff. Page 60. YELLOW-LEGS.— Totanus flavipes. RANGE — North America, breeding chiefly in the interior from Minnesota, northern Illinois, Ontario County, N. Y., northward to the Arctic regions; winters from the Gulf States to Patagonia. EGGS— Three or four ; buffy, spotted or blotched with dark madder — or van dyke — brown and purplish gray. Page 61. SKYLARK. — Alauda arvensis. RANGE — Europe and portions of Asia and Africa ; accidental in the Bermudas and in Greenland. NEST — Placed on the ground, in meadows or open grassy places, sheltered by a tuft of grass; the materials are grasses, plant stems, and a few chance leaves. EGGS — Three to five, of varying form, color, and size. Page 66. WILSON'S PHALAROPE. — Phalaropus tricolor. RANGE — Temperate North America, breeding from northern Illinois and Utah northward to the Saskatchewan region ; south in winter to Brazil and Patagonia. NEST — A shallow depression in soft earth, lined with a thin layer of fragments of grass. EGGS — Three to four ; cream buff or buffy white, heavily blotched with deep chocolate. GROSBEAK. Cocothraustes Page 70. EVENING vespertina. RANGE — Interior of North America, from Manitoba northward ; southeastward in winter to the upper Mississippi Valley and casually to the northern Atlantic States. NEST — Of small twigs, lined with bark, hair, or rootlets, placed within twenty feet of the ground. EGGS — Three or four ; greenish, blotched with pale brown. Page 73. TURKEY VULTURE.— Catharista Atrata. RANGE — Temperate America, from New Jersey southward to Patagonia. NEST — In hollow stump or log, or on ground beneath bushes or palmettos. EGGS — One to three ; dull white, spotted and blotched with chocolate marking. Page 78. GAMBEL'S PARTRIDGE. - - Callipepla gain be li RANGE — Northwestern Mexico, Arizona, New Mexico, southern Utah, and western Utah and western Texas. NEST — Placed on the ground, sometimes without any lining. EGGS — From eight to sixteen. 80 BIRDS. ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. VOL. II. SEPTEMBER. No. 3. BIRD SONG. How songs are made Is a mystery, Which studied for yetars Still baffles me. — R. H. STODDARD. OME birds are poets and sing all summer,'1 says Thoreau. "They are the true singers. Any man can write verses in the love season. We are most interested in those birds that sing for the love of music, and not of their mates ; who meditate their strains and amuse themselves with singing ; the birds whose strains are of deeper sentiment." Thoreau does not mention by name any of the poet-birds to which he alludes, but we think our selections for the present month include some of them. The most beautiful specimen of all, which is as rich in color and "sun-sparkle'' as the most polished gem to which he owes his name, the Ruby-thrdated Humming-bird, cannot sing at all, uttering only a shrill mouse-like squeak. The humming sound made by his wings is far more agreeable than his voice, for "when the mild gold stars flower out" it an- nounces his presence. Then "A dim shape quivers about Some sweet rich heart of a rose." He hovers over all the flowers that possess the peculiar sweetness that he loves — the blossoms of the honey- suckle, the red, the white, and the yellow roses, and the morning glory. The red clover is as sweet to him as to the honey bee, and a pair of them may often be seen hovering over the blossoms for a moment, and then dis- appearing with the quickness of a flash of light, soon to return to the same spot and repeat the performance. Squeak, squeak! is probably their call note. Something of the poet is the Yellow Warbler, though his song is not quite as long as an epic. He repeats it a little too often, perhaps, but there is such a pervading cheerfulness about it that we will not quarrel with the author. Sweet-sweet-sweet-sweet-sweet- sweeter-sweeter! is his frequent contri- bution to the volume of nature, and all the while he is darting about the trees, "carrying sun-glints on his back wherever he goes." His song is ap- propriate to every season, but it is in the spring, when we hear it first, that it is doubly welcome to the ear. The grateful heart asks with Bourdillon: "What tidings hath the Warbler heard That bids him leave the lands of summer For woods and fields where April yields Bleak welcome to the blithe newcomer?" The Mourning Dove may be called the poet of melancholy, for its song is, to us, without one element of cheer- fulness. Hopeless despair is in every note, and, as the bird undoubtedly does have cheerful moods, as indicated by its actions, its song must be ap- preciated only by its mate. Coo-o, coo-o! suddenly thrown upon the air and resounding near and far is something hardly to be extolled, we should think, and yet the beautiful and graceful Dove possesses so many pretty ways that every one is attracted to it, and the tender affection of the mated pair 81 is so manifest, and their constancy so conspicuous, that the name has become a symbol of domestic concord. The Cuckoo must utter his note in order to be recognized, for few that are learned in bird lore can discrimi- nate him save from his notes. He proclaims himself by calling forth his own name, so that it is impossible to make a mistake about him. Well, his note is an agreeable one and has made him famous. As he loses his song in the summer months, he is inclined to make good use of it when he finds it again. English boys are so skillful in imitating the Cuckoo's song, which they do to an exasperating extent, that the bird himself may often wish for that of the Nightingale, which is inimitable. But the Cuckoo's song, monotonous as it is, is decidedly to be preferred to that of the female House Wren, with its Chit-chit-chit-chit, when suspicious or in anger. The male, however, is a real poet, let us say — and sings a merry roulade, sudden, abruptly ended, and frequently repeated. He sings, ap- parently, for the love of music, and is as merry and gay when his mate is absent as when she is at his side, proving that his singing is not solely for her benefit. So good an authority as Dr. Coues vouches for the exquisite vocalization of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet. Have you ever heard a wire vibrating? Such is the call note of the Ruby, thin and metallic. But his song has a fullness, a variety, and a melody, which, being often heard in the spring migration, make this feathered beauty addition- ally attractive. Many of the fine songsters are not brilliantly attired, but this fellow has a combination of attractions to commend him as worthy of the bird student's careful attention. Of the Hermit Thrush, whose song is celebrated, we will say only, "Read everything you can find about him." He will not be discovered easily, for even Olive Thome Miller, who is pre- sumed to know all about birds, tells of her pursuit of the Hermit in northern New York, where it was said to be abundant, and finding, when she looked for him, that he had always "been there" and was gone. But one day in August she saw the bird and heard the song and exclaimed : "This only was lacking — this crowns my summer." The Song Sparrow can sing too, and the Phoebe, beloved of man, and the White-breasted Nuthatch, a little. They do not require the long-seeking of the Hermit Thrush, whose very name implies that he prefers to flock by himself, but can be seen in our parks throughout the season. But the Sparrow loves the companionship of man, and has often been a solace to him. It is stated by the biographer of Kant, the great metaphysician, that at the age of eighty he had become indifferent to much that was passing around him in which he had formerly taken great interest. The flowers showed their beautious hues to him in vain; his weary vision gave little heed to their loveliness; their perfume came unheeded to the sense which before had inhaled it with eagerness. The coming on of spring, which he had been accustomed to hail with delight, now gave him no joy save that it brought back a little Sparrow, which came annually and made its home in a tree that stood by his window. Year after year, as one generation went the way of all the .earth, another would return to its birth-place to reward the tender care of their benefactor by singing to him their pleasant songs. And he longed for their return in the spring with "an eagerness and intensity of expecta- tion." How many provisions nature has for keeping us simple-hearted and child-like ! The Song Sparrow is one of them. — C. C. MARBLE. 82 From col. F. M. Woodruff. SUMMER YELLOW-BIRD. 3 ft Life-size. Copyrighted by Nature Study Tub. Co., 1897, Chicago. THE YELLOW WARBLER. fN a recent article Angus Gaines describes so delightfully some of the characteristics of the Yellow Warbler, or Summer Yellow bird, sometimes called the Wild Canary, that we are tempted to make use of part of it. "Back and forth across the garden the little yel- low birds were flitting, dodging through currant and gooseberry bushes, hiding in the lilacs, swaying for an instant on swinging sprays of grape vines, and then flashing out across the garden beds like yellow sunbeams. They were lithe, slender, dainty little creatures, and were so quick in their movements that I could not recognize them at first, but when one of them hopped down before me, lifted a fallen leaf and dragged a cut- worm from beneath it, and, turning his head, gave me a sidewise glance with his victim still struggling in his beak, I knew him. His gay coat was yellow without the black cap, wings, and tail which show in such marked contrast to the bright canary hue of that other yellow bird, the Gold-finch. "Small and delicate as these birds are, they had been on a long journey to the southward to spend the winter, and now on the first of May, they had returned to their old home to find the land at its fairest — all blossoms, buds, balmy air, sunshine, and melody. As they flitted about in their restless way, they sang the soft, low, warbling trills, which gave them their name of Yellow Warbler." Mrs. Wright says these beautiful birds come like whirling leaves, half autumn yellow, half green of spring, the colors blending as in the outer petals of grass-grown daffodils. "Lovable, cheerful little spirits, dart- ing about the trees, exclaiming at each morsel that they glean. Carrying sun glints on their backs wherever they go, they should make the gloomiest misanthrope feel the season's charm. They are so sociable and confiding, feeling as much at home in the trees by the house as in seclusion." The Yellow-bird builds in bushes,, and the nest is a wonderful example of bird architecture. Milkweed, lint and its strips of fine bark are glued to twigs, and form the exterior of the nest. Its inner lining is made of the silky down on dandelion-balls woven together with horse-hair. In this dainty nest are laid four or five creamy white eggs, speckled with lilac tints and red-browns. The unwelcome egg of the Cow-bird is often found in the Yellow-bird's nest, but this Warbler builds a floor over the egg, repeating the expedient, if the Cow-bird con- tinues her mischief, until sometimes a third story is erected. A pair of Summer Yellow-birds, we are told, had built their nest in a wild rose bush, and were rearing their family in a wilderness of fragrant blossoms whose tinted petals dropped upon the dainty nest, or settled upon the back of the brooding mother. The birds, however, did not stay "to have their pictures taken," but their nest may be seen afnong the roses. The Yellow Warbler's song is Sweet- sweet-sweet- sweet - sweet - sweet - sweeter- sweeter: seven times repeated. 85 THE HERMIT THRUSH. sr I 'N John Burroughs' "Birds and Poets" this master singer is described as the most melodious of our songsters, with the ex- ception of the Wood Thrush, a bird whose strains, more than any other's, express harmony and serenity, and he complains that no merited poetic monument has yet been reared to it. But there can be no good reason for complaining of the absence of appreciative prose concern- ing the Hermit. One writer says: "How pleasantly his notes greet the ear amid the shrieking of the wind and the driving snow, or when in a calm and lucid interval of genial weather we hear him sing, if possible, more richly than before. His song reminds us of a coming season when the now dreary landscape will be clothed in a blooming garb befitting the vernal year — of the song of the Blackbird and Lark, and hosts of other tuneful throats which usher in that lovely season. Should you disturb him when singing he usually drops down and awaits your departure, though sometimes he merely retires to a neighboring tree and warbles as sweetly as before." In "Birdcraft" Mrs. Wright tells us, better than any one else, the story of the Hermit. She says: "This spring, the first week in May, when standing at the window about six o'clock in the morning, I heard an unusual note, and listened, thinking it at first a Wood Thrush and then a Thrasher, but soon finding that it was neither of these I opened the window softly and looked among the near by shrubs, with my glass. The wonderful melody ascended gradually in the scale as it progressed, now trilling, now legato, the most perfect, exalted, unrestrained, yet withal, finished bird song that I ever heard. At the first note I caught sight of the singer perching among the lower sprays of a dogwood tree. I could see him perfectly: it was the Hermit Thrush. In a moment he began again. I have never heard the Nightingale, but those who have say that it is the surroundings and its con- tinuous night singing that make it even the equal of our Hermit; for, while the Nightingales sing in numbers in the moonlit groves, the Hermit tunes his lute sometimes in inaccessible soli- tudes, and there is something imma- terial and immortal about the song." The Hermit Thrush is comparatively common in the northeast, and in Pennsylvania it is, with the exception of the Robin, the commonest of the Thrushes. In the eastern, as in many of the middle states, it is only a migrant. It is usually regarded as a shy bird. It is a species of more general distribution than any of the small Thrushes, being found entirely across the continent and north to the Arctic regions. It is not quite the same bird, however, in all parts of its range, the Rocky Mountain region being occupied by a larger, grayer race, while on the Pacific coast a dwarf race takes its place. It is known in parts of New England as the "Ground Swamp Robin," and in other localities as "Swamp Angel." True lovers of nature find a certain spiritual satisfaction in the song of this bird. "In the evening twilight of a June day," says one of these, "when all nature seemed resting in quiet, the liquid, melting, lingering notes of the solitary bird would steal out upon the air and move us strange- ly. What was the feeling it awoke in our hearts? Was it sorrow or joy, fear or hope, memory or expectation? And while we listened, we thought the meaning of it all was coming; it was trembling on the air, and in an instant it would reach us. Then it faded, it was gone, and we could not even remember what it had been." 86 From col. F. M. Woodruff. HERMIT THRQSH. a/5 Life-size. Copyrighted by Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago. THE HERMIT THRUSH. I am sorry, children, that I cannot give you a specimen of my song as an introduction to1 the short story of my life. One writer about my family says it is like this: U0 spheral, spheral! 0 holy, holy! 0 clear away, clear away! 0 clear up, clear up!" as if I were talking to the weather. May be my notes do sound something like that, but 1 prefer you should hear me sing when I am alone in the woods, and other birds are silent. It is ever being said of me that I am as fine a singer as the English Nightingale. I wish I could hear this rival of mine, and while I have no doubt his voice is a sweet one, and I am not too vain of my own, I should like to'" compare notes " with him. Why do not some of you children ask your parents to invite a few pairs of Nightin- gales to come and settle here ? They would like our climate, and would, I am sure, be wel- comed by all the birds with a warmth not accorded the Eng- lish Sparrow, who has taken possession and, in spite of my love for secret hiding places, will not let even me alone. When you are older, children, you can read all about me in another part of BIRDS. I will merely tell you here that I live with you only from May to October, coming and going away in company with the other Thrushes, though I keep pretty well to myself while here, and while building my nest and bringing up my little ones I hide myself from the face of man, although I do not fear his presence. That is why I am called the Hermit. If you wish to know in what way I am unlike my cousin Thrushes in appearance, turn to pages 84 and 182, Yol. 1, of BIRDS. There you will see their pictures. I am one of the small- est of the family, too. Some call me " the brown bird with the rusty tail," and other names have been fitted to me, as Ground Gleaner, Tree Trapper, and Seed Sower. But I do not like nicknames, and am just plain, HERMIT THRUSH. 89 THE SONG SPARROW. Glimmers gay the leafless thicket Close beside my garden gate, Where, so light, from post to wicket, Hops the Sparrow, blithe, sedate; Who, with meekly folded wing, Comes to sun himself and sing. It was there, perhaps, last year, That his little house he built; For he seemed to perk and peer And to twitter, too, and tilt The bare branches in between, With a fond, familiar mien. — GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP. do not think it at all amiss to say that this dar- ling among song birds can be heard singing nearly everywhere the whole year round, although he is supposed to come in March and leave us in Nov- ember. We have heard him in Feb- ruary, when his little feet made tracks in the newly fallen snow, singing as cheerily as" in April, May, and June, when he is supposed to be in ecstacy. Even in August, when the heat of the dog-days and his molting time drive him to leafy seclusion, his liquid notes may be listened for with cer- tainty, while "all through October they sound clearly above the rustling leaves, and some morning he conies to the dog-wood by the arbor and an- nounces the first frost in a song that is more direct than that in which he told of spring. While the chestnuts fall from their velvet nests, he is singing in the hedge ; but when the brush heaps burn away to fragrant smoke in November, they veil his song a little, but it still continues." While the Song Sparrow nests in the extreme northern part of Illinois, it is known in the more southern portions only as a winter resident. This is somewhat remarkable, it is thought, since along the Atlantic coast it is one of the most abundant summer residents throughout Mary- land and Virginia, in the same lati- tudes as southern Illinois, where it is a winter sojourner, abundant, but very retiring, inhabiting almost solely the bushy swamps in the bottom lands, and unknown as a song bird. This is regarded as a remarkable instance of variation in habits with locality, since in the Atlantic states it breeds abundantly, and is besides one of the most familiar of the native birds. The location of the Song Sparrow's nest is variable; sometimes on the ground, or in a low bush, but usually in as secluded a place as its instinct of preservation enables it to find. A favorite spot is a deep shaded ravine through which a rivulet ripples, where the solitude is disturbed only by the notes of his song, made more sweet and clear by the prevailing silence. 90 THE SONG SPARROW. DEAR YOUNG READERS : I fancy many of the little folks who are readers of BIRDS are among my acquaintances. Though I have never spoken to you, I have seen your eyes brighten when my limpid little song has been borne to you by a passing breeze which made known my presence. Once I saw a pale, worn face turn to look at me from a window, a smile of pleasure lighting it up. And I too was pleased to think that I had given some one a moment's happiness. I have seen bird lovers (for we have lovers, and many of them ) pause on the highway and listen to my pretty notes, which I know as well as any one have a cheer- ful and patient sound, and which all the world likes, for to be cheered and encouraged along the pathway of life is like a pleasant medicine to my weary and discouraged fellow citizens. For you must know I am a citi- zen, as my friend Dr. Coues calls me, and all my relatives. He and Mrs. Mabel Osgood Wright have written a book about us called u Citizen Bird," and in it they have supported us in all our rights, which even you children are beginning to admit we have. You are kinder to us than you used to.be. Some of you come quickly to our rescue from untaught and thoughtless boys who, we think,, if they were made to know how sensitive we are to suffering and wrong, would turn to be our friends and protectors instead. One dear boy I remember well (and he is considered a hero by the Song Sparrows) saved a nest of our birdies from a cruel school boy robber. Why should not all strong boys become our champions ? Many of them have great, honest, sympathetic hearts in their bosoms, and, if we can only enlist them in our favor, they can give us a peace and protection for which for years we have been sighing. Yes, sighing, because our hearts, though little, are none the less susceptible to all the asperities —the terrible asperities of human nature. Papa will tell you what I mean: you would not understand bird language. Did you ever see my nest? I build it near the ground, and sometimes, when kind friends prepare a little box for me, I occupy it. My song is quite varied, but you will always recognize me by my call note, Chek! Chek! Chek! Some people say they hear me repeat uMaids, maids, maids, hang on your teakettle," but I think this is only fancy, for I can sing a real song, admired, I am sure, by all who love SONG SPARROW. 93 THE CUCKOO. UR first introduction to the Cuckoo was by means of the apparition which issued hourly from a little German clock, such as are frequently found in country inns. This particu- lar clock had but one dial hand, and the exact time of day could not be determined by it until the appear- ance of the Cuckoo, who, in a squeak- ing voice, seemed to announce that it was just one hour later or earlier, as the case might be, than at his last appearance. We were puzzled, and remember fancying that a sun dial, in clear weather, would be far more satisfactory as a time piece. "Coo-coo," the image repeated, and then retired until the hour hand should summon him once more. To very few people, not students of birds, is the Cuckoo really known. Its evanescent voice is often recog- nized, but being a solitary wanderer even ornithologists have yet to learn much of its life history. In their habits the American and European Cuckoos are so similar that whatever of poetry and sentiment has been written of them is applicable alike to either. A delightful account of the species may be found in Dixon's Bird Life, a book of refreshing and original observation. "The Cuckoo is found in the verdant woods, in the coppice, and even on the lonely moors. He flits from one stunted tree to another and utters his notes in company with the wild song of the Ring Ousel and the harsh calls of the Grouse and Plover. Though his notes are monotonous, still no one gives them this appellation. No! this little wanderer is held too dear by us all as the harbinger of spring for aught but praise to be bestowed on his mellow notes, which, though full and soft, are powerful, and may on a calm morning, before the every-day hum of human toil begins, be heard a mile away, over wood, field, and lake. Toward the summer solstice his notes are on the wane, and when he gives them forth we often hear him utter them as if laboring under great diffi- culty, and resembling the syllables, " Coo-coo-coo-coo. ' ' On one occasion Dixon says he heard a Cuckoo calling in treble notes, Giick-oo-oo, cuck-oo-oo, inex- pressibly soft and beautiful, notably the latter one. He at first supposed an echo was the cause of these strange notes, the bird being then half a mile away, but he satisfied himself that this was not the case, as the bird came and alighted on a noble oak a few yards from him and repeated the notes. The Cuckoo utters his notes as he flies, but only, as a rule, when a few yards from the place on which he intends alighting. The opinion is held by some ob- servers that Nature has not intended the Cuckoo to build a nest, but influ- ences it to lay its eggs in the nests of other birds, and intrust its young to the care of those species best adapted to bring them to maturity. But the American species does build a nest, and rears its young, though Audubon gives it a bad character, saying: "It robs smaller birds of their eggs." It does not deserve the censure it has received, however, and it is useful in many ways. Its hatred of the worm is intense, destroying many more than it can eat. So thoroughl}- does it do its work, that orchards, which three years ago, were almost leafless, the trunks even being covered by slippery webbing, are again yield- ing a good crop. In September and October the Cuckoo is silent and suddenly disap- pears. "He seldom sees the lovely tints of autumn, and never hears the wintry storm-winds' voice, for, im- pelled by a resistless impulse, he wings his way afar over mountain, stream, and sea, to a land where northern blasts are not felt, and where a summer sun is shining in a cloud- less sky." 94 THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMING BIRD. Is it a gem, half bird, Or is it a bird, half gem ? —EDGAR FAWCETT. F all animated beings this is the most elegant in form and the most brilliant in colors, says the great nat- uralist Buffbn. The stones and metals polished by our arts are not comparable to this jewel of Nature. She has it least in size of the order of birds, maxime miranda in minimis. Her masterpiece is the Humming-bird, and upon it she has heaped all the gifts which the other birds may only share. Lightness, rapidity, niuibleness, grace, and rich apparel all belong to this little favorite. The emerald, the ruby, and the topaz gleam upon its dress. It never soils them with the dust of earth, and its aerial life scarcely touches the turf an instant. Always in the air, flying from flower to flower, it has their freshness as well as their brightness. It lives upon their nectar, and dwells only in the climates where they perennially bloom. All kinds of Humming-birds are found in the hottest countries of the New World. They are quite numer- ous and seem to be confined between the two tropics, for those which pene- trate the temperate zones in summer stay there only a short time. They seem to follow the sun in its advance and retreat ; and to fly on the zephyr wing after an eternal spring. The smaller species of the Hum- ming-birds are less in size than the great fly wasp, and more slender than the drone. Their beak is a fine needle and their tongue a slender thread. Their little black eyes are like two shining points, and the feathers of their wings so delicate that they seem transparent. Their short feet, which they use very little, are so tiny one can scarcely see them. They rarely alight during the day. They have a swift continual humming flight. The movement of their wings is so rapid that when pausing in the air, the bird seems quite motionless. One sees him stop before a blossom, then dart like .a flash to another, visiting all, plunging his tongue into their hearts, flattening them with his wings, never settling anywhere, but neglecting none. He hastens his inconstancies only to pur- sue his loves more eagerly and to multiply his innocent joys. For this light lover of flowers lives at their expense without ever blighting them. He only pumps their honey, and for this alone his tongue seems designed. The vivacity of these small birds is only equaled by their courage, or rather their audacity. Sometimes they may be seen furiously chasing- birds twenty times their size, fastening upon their bodies, letting themselves be carried along in their flight, while they peck fiercely until their tiny rage is satisfied. Sometimes they fight each other vigorously. Impatience seems their very essence. If they ap- proach a blossom and find it faded, they mark their spite by a hasty rend- ing of the petals. Their only voice is a weak cry of Screp, screp, frequent and repeated, which they utter in the woods from dawn until at the first rays of the sun they all take flight and scatter over the country. The Ruby-throat is the only native Humming-bird of eastern North America, where it is a common sum- mer resident from May to October, breeding from Florida to Labrador. The nest is a circle an inch and a half in diameter, made of fern wood, plant down, and so forth, shingled with lichens to match the color of the branch on which it rests. Its only note is a shrill, mouse-like squeak. 97 THE HOUSE WREN. All the children, it seems to me, are familiar with the habits of Johnny and Jenny Wren ; and many of them, especially such as have had some experi- ence with country life, could themselves tell a story of these mites of birds. Mr. F. Saunders tells one: u Perhaps you may think the Wren is so small a bird he cannot sing much of a song, but he can. The way we first began to notice him was by seeing our pet cat jumping about the yard, dodging first one way and then another, then darting up a tree; looking surprised, and disappointingly jumping down again. "Pussy had found a new play- mate, for the little Wren evi- dently thought it great fun to fly down just in front of her and dart away before she could reach him, leading her from one spot to another, hovering above her head, chattering to her all the time, and at last flying up far out of her reach. This he repeated day after day, for some time, seeming to enjoy the fun of disappointing her so nicely and easily. But after a while the little fellow thought he would like a play-mate nearer his own size, and went off to find one. But he came back all alone, and perched himself on the very tip-top of a lightning- rod on a high barn at the back of the yard; and there he would sing his sweet little trilling song, hour after hour, hardly stopping long enough to find food for his meals. We won- dered that he did not grow tired of it. For about a week we watched him closely, and one day I came running into the house to tell the rest of the family with surprise and delight that our little Wren knew what he was about, for with his win- ning song he had called a mate to him. He led her to the tree where he had played with pussy, and they began building a nest; but pussy watched then as well as we, and meant to have her revenge upon him yet, so she sprang into the tree, tore the nest to pieces, and tried to catch Jenny. The birds rebuilt their nest three times, and finally we came to their rescue and placed a box in a safe place under the eves of the house, and Mr. Wren with his keen, shrewd eyes, soon saw and appropriated it. There they stayed and raised a pretty family of birdies; and I hope he taught them, as he did me, a lesson in perseverence I'll never forget." 98 From col. F. M. Woodruff. RUBY -THROATED HUMMING BIRDS. Life-size. Copyrighted by Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago. From col. F. M. Woodruff. HOUSE WREN. Life-size. Copyrighted by Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago. THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMING BIRD. DEAR YOUNG FOLKS : I fancy you think I cannot stop long enough to tell you a story, even about myself. It is true, I am always busy with the flowers, drinking their honey with my long bill, as you must be busy with your books, if you would learn what they teach. I always select for my food the sweetest flowers that grow in the garden. Do you think you would be vain if you had my beautiful colors to wear? Of course, you would not, but so many of my brothers and sisters have been destroyed to adorn the bonnets and headdresses of the thought- less that the children cannot be too early taught to love us too well to do us harm. Have you ever seen a ruby? It is one of the most valued of gems. It is the color of my throat, and from its rare and brilliant beauty I get a part of my name. The ruby is worn by great ladies and, with the emerald and topaz, whose bright colors I also wear, is much esteemed as an orna- ment. If you will come into the garden in the late afternoon, between six and seven o'clock, when I am taking my supper, and when the sun is beginning to close his great eye, you will see his rays shoot sidewise and show all the splendor of my plumage. You will see me, too, if your eyes are sharp enough, draw up my tiny claws, pause in front of a rose,, and remain seemingly motionless. But listen, and you will hear the reason for my name — a tense humming sound. Some call me a Hummer indeed. I spend only half the year in the garden, coming in May and saying farewell in October. After my mate and I are gone you may find our nest. But your eyes will be sharp indeed if they detect it when the leaves are on the trees, it is so small and blends with the branches. We use fern-wool and soft down to build it, and shingle it with lichens to match the branch it nests upon. You should see the tiny eggs of pure white. But we, our nest and our eggs, are so dainty and delicate that they should never be touched. We are only to be looked at and admired. Farewell. Look for me when you go a-Maying. RUBY. 103 THE HOUSE WREN. I "It was a merry time When Jenny Wren was young, When prettily she looked, And sweetly, too, she sung." 'N looking over an old memo- randum book the other day," says Col. S. T. Walker, of Florida, "I came across the following notes concerning the nesting of the House Wren. I was sick at the time, and watched the whole proceeding, from the laying of the first stick to the conclusion. The nest was placed in one of the pigeon- holes of my desk, and the birds effected an entrance to the room through sundry cracks in the log cabin. Nest begun ...... April Nest completed and first egg laid, April 27. I/ast egg laid ...... May 3rd. Began sitting ...... May 4th. Hatching completed .... May i8th. Young began to fly .... May 27th. Young left the nest .... June ist. Total time occupied .... 47 days. Such is the usual time required for bringing forth a brood of this species of Wren, which is the best known of the family. In the Atlantic states it is more numerous than in the far west, where wooded localities are its chosen haunts, and where it is equally at home in the cottonwoods of the river valleys, and on the aspens j'ust below the timber line on lofty mountains. Mrs. Osgood Wright says very quaintly that the House Wren is a bird who has allowed . the word male to be obliterated from its social consti- tution at least: that we always speak of Jenny Wren: always refer to the Wren as she, as we do of a ship. That it is Johnny Wren who sings and dis- ports himself generally, but it is Jenny, who, by dint of much scolding and fussing, keeps herself well to the front. She chooses the building-site and settles all the little domestic details. If Johnny does not like her choice, he may go away and stay away; she will remain where she has taken up her abode and make a second matrimonial venture. The House Wren's song is a merry one, sudden, abrubtly ended, and fre- quently repeated. It is heard from the middle of April to October, and upon the bird's arrival it at on'ce sets about preparing its nest, a loose heap of sticks with a soft lining, in holes, boxes, and the like. From six to ten tiny, cream- colored eggs are laid, so thickly spotted with brown that the whole egg is tinged. The House Wren is not only one of our most interesting and familiar neighbors, but it is useful as an exterminator of insects, upon which it feeds. Frequently it seizes small but- terflies when on the wing. We have in mind a sick child whose conva- lescence was hastened and cheered by the near-by presence of the merry House Wren, which sings its sweet little trilling song, hour after hour, hardly stopping long enough to find food for its meals. 104 THE PHOEBE. Oft the Phoebe's cheery notes Wake the laboring swain ; "Come, come ! " say the merry throats, "Morn is here again." Phoebe, Phoebe ! let them sing for aye, Calling him to labor at the break of day. — C. C. M. EARLY everywhere in the United States we find this cheerful bird, known as Pewee, Barn Pewee, Bridge Pewee, or Phoebe, or Pewit Flycatcher. "It is one of that charm- ing coterie of the feathered tribe who cheer the abode of man with their presence." There are few farmyards without a pair of Pewees, who do the farmer much service by lessening the number of flies about the barn, and by calling him to his work in the morn- ing by their cheery notes. Dr. Brewer says that this species is attracted both to the vicinity of water and to the neighborhood of dwellings, probably for the same reason — the abundance of insects in either situation*. They are a familiar, confiding, and gentle bird, attached to localities, and returning to them year after year. Their nests are found in sheltered situations, as under a bridge, a pro- jecting rock, in the porches of houses, etc. They have been known to build on a small shelf in the porch of a dwelling, against the wall of a railroad station, within reach of the passengers, and under a projecting window-sill, in full view of the family, entirely unmoved by the presence of the latter at meal time. Like all the flycatcher family the Phoebe takes its food mostly flying. Mrs. Wright says that the Pewee in his primitive state haunts dim woods and running water, and that when domesticated he is a great bather, and may be seen in the half-light dashing in and out of the water as he makes trips to and from the nest. After the young are hatched both old and young disport themselves about the water until moulting time. She advises: "Do not let the Phoebes build under the hoods of your windows, for their spongy nests harbor innumerable bird- lice, and under such circumstances your fly-screens will become infested and the house invaded." In its native woods the nest is of moss, mud, and grass placed on a rock, near and over running water; but in the vicinity of settlements and villages it is built on a horizontal bridge beam, or on timber supporting a porch or shed. The eggs are pure white, some- what spotted. The notes, to some ears, are Phoebe, phoebe, pewit, phoebe! to others, of somewhat duller sense of hearing, perhaps, Pewee, pewee, pewee! We confess to a fancy that the latter is the better imitation. 107 THE RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. ASKETT says that the Kinglets come at a certain early spring date before the leaves are fully ex- panded, and flutter up- ward, while they take something from beneath the budding leaf or twig. It is a peculiar motion, which with their restless ways, olive-green color, and small size, readily distinguishes them. It is rare that one is still. "But the ruby-crowned sometimes favors me with a song, and as it is a little long, he usually is quiet till done. It is one of the sweetest little lullaby-like strains. One day I saw him in the rose bush just near voluntarily expand the plumage of his crown and show the brilliant golden-ruby feathers beneath. Usually they are mostly concealed. It was a rare treat, and visible to me only because of my rather exalted view. He generally reserves this display for his mate, but he was here among some Snow-birds and Tree Sparrows, and seemed to be trying to make these plain folks envious of the pretty feathers in his hat." These wonderfully dainty little birds are of great value to the farmer and the fruit grower, doing good work among all classes of fruit trees by killing grubs and larvae. In spite of their value in this respect, they have been, in common with many other attractive birds, recklessly killed for millinery purposes. It is curious to see these busy wanderers, who are always cheery and sociable, come prying and peering about the fruit trees, examining every little nook of possible concealment with the greatest interest. They do not stay long after November, and return again in April. The nest of this Kinglet is rarely seen. It is of matted hair, feathers,, moss, etc., bulky, round, and partly hanging. Until recently the eggs were unknown. They are of a dirty cream-white, deepening at larger end to form a ring, some specimens being spotted. Mr. Nehrling, who has heard this Kinglet sing in central Wisconsin and northern Illinois, speaks of the "power, purity, and volume of the notes, their faultless modulation and long con- tinuance," and Dr. Elliott Coues says of it: "The Kinglet's exquisite vocal- ization defies description." Dr. Brewer says that its song is clear, resonant, and high, a prolonged series, varying from the lowest tones to the highest, and terminating with the latter. It may be heard at quite a distance, and in some respects bears more resem- blance to the song of the English Sky-lark than to that of the Canary,, to which Mr. Audubon compares it. 108 From col. F. M. Woodruff. RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. Life-size. Nature Study Copyrighted by udy Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago. THE MOURNING DOVE. THE DOVE AND THE STRANGER. Stranger — Why mourning there so sad, thou gentle dove? Dove — I mourn, unceasing mourn, my vanished love. Stranger — What, has thy love then fled, or faithless proved ? Dove — Ah no ! the sportsman wounded him I loved ! Stranger — Unhappy one ! beware ! that sportman's nigh ! Dove — Oh, let him come — or else of grief I die. — FROM THE RUSSIAN. (5 THROUGHOUT the state of ^ I Illinois and adjacent states QJ I this bird of sad refrain is a ~~^ permanent resident, though less numerous and of uncertain oc- currence in winter. In the spring of 1883, all the specimens seen at Wheat- land, Indiana, had the ends of the toes frozen off, showing that they had braved the almost unprecedented cold of the preceding winter. They have been known to winter as far north as Canada, and in December considerable numbers have been seen about Wind- sor, Ontario. The female is a little smaller than the male, and the young are duller and more brownish in color. In many places the Mourning Dove becomes half domesticated, nesting in the trees in the yard, showing but little fear when approached. While the Turtle Dove keeps the deepest woodland solitudes, and rarely seeks the fields and open places, this Dove is as often seen out of the woods as in them, for the greater part of the year at least ; and, though a wary bird, it is not what we can call a shy one. The love note of the Mourning Dove, though somewhat monotonous, "sounds particularly soothing and pleasant as we wander through the otherwise almost silent woods, just as they are about to don their leafy vestures, under the gentle influence of an April sun." If the birds be abun- dant, their low and plaintive note, Coo-oo-oo, coo-oo-oo, fills the entire forest with its murmur. Gentle, indeed, as the Dove is thought to be, still this does not hold good in the mating sea- son, for two male birds will often fight with fury for the possession of a female. These encounters, however, are only between young or single birds. If unmolested, these birds will nest in one certain locality for years. Mrs. Wright says the female is a most prettily shiftless house-wife. "Even though her mate should decline to furnish her with more liberal supply of sticks, she could arrange those she has to better advantage; but she evi- dently lacks that indispensable some- thing, called faculty, which must be inborn. The eggs or bodies of the young show plainly through the rude platform and bid fair to either fall through it or roll out, but they seldom do. Meanwhile she coos regretfully, but does not see her way to bettering things, saying 'I know I'm a poor house-keeper, but it runs in our family;' but when the Dove chooses a flattened out Robin's nest for a platform, the nestlings fare very well'." The Dove's food is confined mainly to vegetable matter, peas, beans, lintels, grains, and small seeds of various kinds. They frequent newly sown land and feed upon the seed grain; they search under the oak trees for acorns, and under beech trees for mast, sometimes feeding in the branches; in autumn the stubble field is a favorite feeding spot, where they pick up the scattered grain, and eat the tender heart shoots of the clover, and, Dixon says, they feed upon the growing turnip plants, and in keen weather when the snow lies deep they will make a meal on the turnips them- selves. In their favor, however, is the fact that in the crops of these Doves are often found the seeds of noxious weeds, as the charlock and dock. THE MOURNING DOVE. DEAR YOUNG BIRD LOVERS : Most every person thinks that, while my actions are very pretty and attractive, and speak much in my favor, I can only really say, Coo-o, Coo-o, which they also think does not mean anything at all. Well, I just thought I would undeceive them by writ- ing you a letter. Many grown up people fancy that we birds cannot express ourselves be- cause we don't know very much. Of course, there is a good reason why they have this poor opinion of us. They are so busy with their own private concerns that they forget that there are little creatures like ourselves in the world who, if they would take a little time to become acquainted with them, would fill their few hours of leisure with a sweeter recreation than they find in many of their chosen outings. A great English, poet, whose writings you will read when you get older, said you should look through Nature up to Nature's God. What did he mean? I think he had us birds in his mind, for it is through a study of our habits, more perhaps than that of the voiceless trees or the dumb four-footed creatures that roam the fields, that your hearts are opened to see and admire real beauty. We birds are the true teachers of faith, hope, and charity, — faith, because we trust one another; hope, because, even when our mother Nature seems unkind, sending the drift- ing snow and the bitter blasts of winter, we sing a song of summer time; and charity, be- cause we are never fault finders. I believe, without knowing it, I have been telling you about myself and my mate. We Doves are very sincere, and every one says we are constant. If you live in the country, children, you must often hear our voices. We are so tender and fond of each other that we are looked upon as models for children, and even grown-up folks. My mate does not build a very nice nest — only uses a few sticks to keep the eggs from falling out— but she is a good mother and nurses the little ones very tenderly. Some peo- ple are so kind that they build for us a dove cote, supply us with wheat and corn, and make our lives as free from care and danger as they can. Come and see us some day, and then you can tell whether my picture is a good one. The artist thinks it is and he certainly took lots of pains with it. Now, if you will be kind to all birds, you will find me, in name only, MOURNING DOVE. HOW THE BIRDS SECURED THEIR RIGHTS. Deuteronomy xxxii 6-7.— "If a bird's nest chance to be before thee in the way, in any tree, or on the ground, young ones or eggs, and the dam sitting upon the young, or upon the eggs, thou shall not take the dam with the young. But thou shall in anywise let the dam go, that it may be well with thee, and that thou may prolong thy days." 'T is said that the following peti- tion was instrumental in secur- ing the adoption in Massachu- setts of a law prohibiting the wearing of song and insectivor- ous birds on women's hats. It is stated that the interesting document was prepared by United States Senator Hoar. The foregoing verse of Scrip- ture might have been quoted by the petitioning birds to strengthen their position before the lawmakers: "To THE GREAT AND GENERAL COURT OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS : We, the song birds of Massachusetts and their playfellows, make this our humble petition. We know more about you than you think we do. We know how good you are. We have hopped about the roofs and looked in at the windows of the houses you have built for poor and sick and hungry people, and little lame and deaf and blind children. We have built our nests in the trees and sung many a song as we flew about the gardens and parks you have made so beautiful for your children, especially your poor children, to play in. Every year we fly a great way over the country, keeping all the time where the sun is bright and warm. And we know that whenever you do anything the other people all over this great land between the seas and the great lakes find it out, and pretty soon will try to do the same. We know. We know. "We are Americans just the same as you are. Some of us, like some of you, came across the great sea. But most of the birds like us have lived here a long while; and the birds like us welcomed your fathers when they came here many, many years ago. Our fathers and mothers have always done their best to please your fathers and mothers. "Now we have a sad story to tell you. Thoughtless or bad people are trying to destroy us. They kill us because our feathers are beautiful. Even pretty and sweet girls, who we should think would be our best friends, kill our brothers and children so that they may wear our plumage on their hats. Sometimes people kill us for mere wantonness. Cruel boys destroy our nests and steal our eggs and our young ones. People with guns and snares lie in wait to kill us; as if the place for a bird were not in the sky, alive, but in a shop window or in a glass case. If this goes on much longer all our song birds will be gone. Already we are told in some other countries that used to be full of birds they are now almost gone. Even the Nightingales are being killed in Italy. "Now we humbly pray that you will stop all this and will save us from this sad fate. You have already made a law that no one shall kill a harm- less song bird or destroy our nests or our eggs. Will you please make an- other one that no one shall wear our feathers, so that no one shall kill us to get them? We want them all our- selves. Your pretty girls are pretty enough without them. We are told that it is as easy for you to do it as for a blackbird to whistle. ' "If you will, we know how to pay you a hundred times over. We will teach your children to keep them- selves clean and neat. We will show them how to live together in peace and love and to agree as we do in our nests. We will build pretty houses which you will like to see. We will play about your garden and flowerbeds — ourselves like flowers on wings — without any cost to you. We will destroy the wicked insects and worms that spoil your cherries and currants and plums and apples and roses. We will give you our best songs, and make the spring more beautiful and the summer sweeter to you. Every June morning when you go out into the field, Oriole and Bluebird and Black- bird and Bobolink will fly after you, and make the day more delightful to you. And when you go home tired after, sundown Vesper Sparrow will tell you how grateful we are. When you sit down on your porch after dark, Fifebird and Hermit Thrush and Wood Thrush will sing to you; and even Whip-poor- will will cheer you up a little. We know where we are safe. In a little while all the birds will come to live in Massachusetts again, and everbody who loves music will like to make a summer home with you." The singers are : Brown Thrasher, Robert o'Lincoln, Vesper Sparrow, Hermit Thrush, Robin Redbreast. Song Sparrow, Scarlet Tanager, Summer Redbird, Blue Heron, Humming Bird, Yellow Bird, Whip-poor-will, Water Wagtail, Woodpecker, Pigeon Woodpecker, Indigo Bird, Yellow Throat, Wilson's Thrush, Chickadee. King Bird, Swallow. Cedar Bird, Cow Bird, Martin, Veery, Vireo, Oriole, Blackbird, Fife Bird, Wren, Linnet, Pewee, Phoebe, Yoke Bird, Lark, Sandpiper, Chewink. THE CAPTIVE'S ESCAPE. I saw such a sorrowful sight, my dears, Such a sad and sorrowful sight, As I lingered under the swaying vines, In the silvery morning light. The skies were so blue and the day was so fair With beautiful things untold, You would think no sad and sorrowful thing Could enter its heart of gold. A fairy-like cage was hanging there, So gay with turret and -dome, You'd be sure a birdie would gladly make Such a beautiful place its home. But a wee little yellow-bird sadly chirped As it fluttered to and fro ; I know it was longing with all its heart To its wild-wood home to go. I heard a whir of swift-rushing wings, And an answering gladsome note; As close to its nestlings prison bars, I saw the poor mother bird float. I saw her flutter and strive in vain To open the prison door. Then sadly cling with drooping wing As if all her hopes were o'er. But ere I could reach the prison house And let its sweet captive free, She was gone like a yellow flash of light, To her home in a distant tree. "Poor birdie," I thought, "you shall surely go, When mamma comes back again ;" For it hurt me so that so small a thing Should suffer so much of pain. And back in a moment she came again And close to her darling's side With a bitter-sweet drop of honey dew, Which she dropped in its mouth so wide. Then away, with a strange wild mournful note Of sorrow, which seemed to say "Goodbye, my darling, my birdie dear, Goodbye tor many a day." A quick wild flutter of tiny wings, A faint low chirp of pain, A throb of the little aching heart And birdie was free again. Oh sorrowful anguished mother-heart, 'Twas all that she could do, She had set it free from a captive's life In the only way she knew. Foor little birdie! it never will fly On tiny and tireless wing, Through the pearly blue of the summer sky, Or sing the sweet songs of spring. And I think, little dears, if you had seen The same sad sorrowful sight, You never would cage a free wild bird To suffer a captive's plight. — MARY MORRISON. 116 From col. F. M. Woodruff. WHITE-BREASTED NUT HATCH. Life-size- Copyrighted by Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago. THE WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. I EARLY every one readily recognizes this species as it runs up and down and around the branches and trunks of trees in search of insect food, now and then uttering its curious Quauk, quauk,quauk. The White-breasted Nuthatch is often improperly called "Sapsucker," a name commonly applied to the Downy Woodpecker and others. It is a coin- mom breeding bird and usually begins nesting early in April, and two broods are frequently reared in a season. For its nesting place it usually selects the decayed trunk of a tree or stub, rang- ing all the way from two to sixty feet above the ground. The entrance may be a knot hole, a small opening, or a small round hole with a larger cavity at the end of it. Often the old exca- vation of the Downy Woodpecker is made use of. Chicken feathers, hair, and a. few dry leaves loosely thrown together compose the nest. This Nuthatch is abundant through- out the State of Illinois, arid is a permanent resident everywhere except perhaps of the extreme northern counties. It seems to migrate in spring and return in autumn, but, in reality, as is well known, only retreats to the woodlands to breed, emerging again when the food supply grows scant in the autumn. The Nuthatches associate familiarly with the Kinglets and Titmice, and often travel with them. Though regarded as shy birds they are not really so. Their habits of restlessness render them difficult of examination. "Tree-mice" is the local name given them by the fanners, and would be very appropriate could they sometimes remain as motionless as that diminu- tive animal. Careful observation has disclosed that the Nuthatches do not suck the sap from trees, but that they knock off bits of decayed or loose bark with the beak to obtain the grubs or larvae beneath. They are beneficial to vege- tation. Ignorance is responsible for the misapplied names given to many of our well disposed and useful birds, and it would be well if teachers were to discourage the use of inappropriate names and familiarize the children with those recognized by the best authorities. Referring to the Nuthatches Mr. Basket says: "They are little bluish gray birds, with white undervests — sometimes a little soiled. Their tails are ridiculously short, and never touch the tree; neither does the body, unless they are suddenly affrighted, when they crouch and look, with their beaks extended, much like a knot with a broken twig on it. I have sometimes put the bird into this attitude by clapping my hands loudly near the window. It is an impulse that seems to come to the bird before flight, especially if the head should be down- ward. His arrival is sudden, and seems often to be distinguished by turning a somersault before alighting, head downward, on the tree trunk, as if he had changed his mind so sud- denly -about alighting that it un- balanced him. I once saw two Nuthatches at what I then supposed was a new habit. One spring day some gnats were engaged in their little crazy love waltzes in the air, forming small whirling clouds, and the birds left off bark-probing and began capturing insects on the wing. They were awkward about it with their short wings, and had to alight frequently to rest. I went out to them, and so absorbed were they that they allowed me to approach within a yard of a limb that I came to rest upon, where they would sit and pant till they caught their breath, when they went at it again. They seemed fairly to revel in a new diet and a new exercise." 119 SUMMARY Page 83. YELLOW WARBLER.— Dendroica cestiva. Other names: " Summer Yellow-bird, " "Wild Canary , " " Yellow-poll Warbler. ' ' RANGE — The whole of North America ; breed- ing throughout its range. In winter, the whole of middle America and northern South Amer- ica. NEST — Built in an apple tree, cup-shaped, neat and compact, composed of plant fibres, bark, etc. EGGS — Four or five ; greenish-white, spotted Page 88. HERMIT THRUSH.— Turd us aonalaschka: pallasii. Other names: "Swamp Angel," " Ground Swamp Robin." RANGE — Eastern North America, breeding from northern United States northward ; win- tering from about latitude 40° to the Gulf coast. NEST — On the ground, in some low, secluded spot, beneath shelter of deep shrubbery. Bulky and loosely made of leaves, bark, grasses, mosses, lined with similar finer material. EGGS — Three or four ; of greenish blue, unspotted. Page 91. SONG SPARROW.— Melospiza fasciata. RANGE — Eastern United States and British Provinces, west to the Plains, breeding chiefly north of 40°, except east of the Alleghenies. NEST — On the ground, or in low bushes, of grasses, weeds, and leaves, lined with fine grass stems, roots, and, in some cases, hair. EGGS — Four to seven ; varying in color from greenish or pinkish white to light bluish green, spotted with dark reddish brown. Page 95. YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO. — Coccyzus americanus. Other names: "Rain Crow," " Rain Dove," and " Chow-Chow." RANGE — Eastern North America to British Provinces, west to Great Plains, south in winter, West Indies and Costa Rica. NEST — In low tree or bush, of dried sticks, bark strips and catkins. EGGS — Two to four ; of glaucous green which fades on exposure to the light. Page 100. RUBY THROATED HUMMING BIRD.— Trochilus colubris. RANGE — Eastern North America to the Plains north to the fur countries, and south in winter to Cuba and Veragua. NEST — A circle an inch and a half in dia- meter, made of fern wool, etc., shingled with lichens to match the color of the branch on which it is saddled. EGGS — Two ; pure white, the size of soup beans. Page 10 1. HOUSE WREN.— Troglodytes aedon. RANGE — Eastern United States and southern Canada, west to the Mississippi Valley ; winters in southern portions. NEST — Miscellaneous rubbish, sticks, grasses, hay, and the like. EGGS — Usually seven ; white, dotted with reddish brown. Page 1 06. PHOEBE. — Sayotnis phoebe. Other names : "Pewit," "Pewee." RANGE — Eastern North America ; in winter south to Mexico and Cuba. NEST — Compactly and neatly made of mud and vegetable substances, with lining of grass and feathers. EGGS — Four or five ; pure white, sometimes sparsely spotted with reddish brown dots at larger end. Page no. RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. — Regulus calendula. RANGE — Entire North America, wintering in the South and in northern Central America. NEST — Very rare, only six known ; of - hair, feathers, moss, etc., bulky, globular, and partly pensile. EGGS — Five to uine ; dull whitish or pale puffy, speckled. Page 113. MOURNING DOVE.—Zenaidura macrura. Other names: "Carolina Dove," "Turtle Dove." RANGE — Whole of temperate North America, south to Panama and the West Indies. NEST — Rim of twigs sufficient to retain the eggs. EGGS — Usually two ; white. Page 1 1 8. WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH.— Sitta carolinensis. Other name: "Sapsucker," improperly called. RANGE — Eastern United States and British Provinces. NEST — Decayed trunk of tree or stub, from two to six feet from ground, composed of chicken feathers, hair, and dry leaves. EGGS — Five to eight; white with a roseate tinge, speckled with reddish brown and a slight ! tinge of purple. BIRDS. ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. VOL. II. OCTOBER. No. 4. BIRDS IN CAPTIVITY. I oil 'T was our intention in this article to give a number of instances of a pathetic nature concerning the sufferings of the various species of birds which it has been, and still is, a habit with many people to keep confined in cages totally inadequate for any other pur- pose than that of cruelty. The argu- ment that man has no moral right to deprive an innocent creature of liberty will always be met with indifference by the majority of people, and an appeal to their intelligence and humanity will rarely prove effective. To capture singing birds for any pur- pose is, in many states, prohibited by statute. But the law is violated. Occasionally an example is made of one or more transgressors, but as a rule the officers of the law, whose business it should be to prevent it, manifest no interest whatever in its exe- cution. The bird trappers as well know that it is against the law, but so long as they are unmolested by the police, they will continue the whole- sale trapping. A contemporary recently said: "It seems strange that this bird-catching industry should increase so largely simultaneously with the founding of the Illinois Audubon Society. The good that that society has done in checking the habit of wearing birds in bonnets, seems to have been fairly counterbalanced by the increase in the number of songsters captured for cage ourposes. These trappers choose the nesting season as most favorable for their work, and every pair of birds they catch means the loss of an entire family in the shape of a set of eggs or a nestful of young left to perish slowly by starvation." This is the way the trappers pro- ceed. They are nearly all Germans. Bird snaring is a favorite occupation in Germany and the fondness for the cruel work was not left behind by the emigrants. More's the pity. These fellows fairly swarm with their bird limes and traps among the suburbs, having an eye only to the birds of brightest plumage and sweetest song. " They use one of the innocents as a bait to lure the others to a prison." " Two of the trappers," says one who watched them, " took their station at the edge of an open field, skirted by a growth of willows. Each had two cage traps. The device was divided into two parts by wires running horizontally and parallel to the plane of the floor. In the lower half of each cage was a male American Goldfinch. In the roof of the traps were two little hinged doors, which turned backward and upward, leaving an opening. Inside the upper compartment of the trap, and accessible through the door- way in the roof, was a swinging perch. The traps were placed on stumps among the growth of thistles and dock weed, while the trappers hid behind the trees. The Goldfinches confined in the lower sections of the traps had been the victims of the trappers earlier in the season, and the sight of their familiar haunts, the sunlight, the breeze, and the swaying willow branches, where so often they had perched and sung, t caused them to nutter about and to utter pathetically the call note of their days of freedom . It is upon this yearning for liberty and its manifestation that the bird trappers depend to secure more victims. No sooner does the piping call go forth from the golden throats of the little prisoners, than a reply comes from