BIRDS

FIELD
FOREST

and

PARK

ALBERT FIFLD GILMORE

FOR THE PEOPLE

FOR EDVCATION

FOR SCIENCE

LIBRARY

OF

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM

OF

NATURAL HISTORY

BIRDS OF
FIELD. FOREST AND PARK

Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies

CHEWINK
Upper figure — female. Lower figure — male.

BIRDS 0/

FIELD, FOREST

and PARK

By albert field GILMORE

WITH A FOREWORD BY

T. GILBERT PEARSON

Secretary of The National Association of Audubon Societies

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

R. Bruce Horsfall and Louis Fuertes

Copyright, 191 9
By The Page Company

All rights reserved

First Impression, February, 1919

TO K. M. G.

Whose sympathy and encouragement in the study

and cheerful companionship in the field have

greatly lessened the labor of its preparation^

this volume is affectionately dedicated.

FOREWORD

No man or woman of the coming generation
can lay claim to a broad education who does not
have at least a speaking acquaintance with the
wild birds and animals of the country. Public
sentiment will demand this.

We all know persons who are skilled in belles
lettres, who know the languages of various
peoples, and have wide familiarity with the
history of what man has done; persons who have
travelled much and acquired learning in the
various fine arts, but who have no knowledge of
the names or habits of any of the fourteen hun-
dred kinds of wild birds found in North America.
Their knowledge is replete as to the things man
has done,^ but regarding the works of Nature
they are ignorant. They know nothing of the
soil formation; of the history of the rocks over
which they walk. They cannot name the trees in
whose shade they stand, and their ears are deaf
to the songs of the birds that reach them from
the fields and roads.

Such a person, if left alone in the country for
a day without human companionship, or a book
to read, is usually miserable until relief arrives.
The wild life of the open means nothing to him.
Today, in every State of the Union, thousands
of intelligent teachers are mingling with their
daily tasks some instruction regarding the habits
of wild birds and their value to mankind.

vi FOREWORD

Within the past ten years more bird books
have been sold in the United States than during
the entire previous history of this country. From
Maine to California there is a great awakening
to the fact that birds are of inestimable value
to mankind and that their study is worthy to be
placed alongside of those subjects which hereto-
fore have so strongly claimed the attention of
the educator.

When the men of today were schoolboys they
were not taught bird study, and, in a way, are
not to be blamed for their present ignorance of
the subject. There were few laws in those days
to protect birds. Today, within our boundaries,
there is not a useful bird that has not had thrown
about it the protecting arm of the law, and it is
intensely important that children be given a
knowledge of this fact and taught the reasons
why these wild creatures should be protected
and increased.

I believe this book has an extremely important
mission. It will be read and studied by number-
less readers, who from its pages will receive their
iirst strong impressions of the beauty and value
that come from an intimate knowledge of our
wild bird life; and its author will have the blessed
privilege of knowing that he has been responsible
for starting many on the first step of that stair-
case that leads the student to the treasures in
the vast storehouse of Nature.

T. Gilbert Pearson,

Secretary of the National Association
oj Audubon Societies,

PREFACE

The success of the little book "Birds Through
the Year" in stimulating among its readers a
desire to make the acquaintance in the open of
the birds described therein, has prompted the
author to prepare this somewhat more preten-
tious volume.

This is in no sense a treatise on the science of
ornithology, but the effort is made to reproduce
the atmosphere of the natural home of the bird
in field, forest and park, by describing the con-
ditions under which each variety is found, and
their usual surroundings, as well as their habits,
plumage, songs, etc. About one hundred and
fifty varieties are thus described, including those
most common in eastern North America. While
the classification recognized by the American
Ornithological Union has been followed, the
Latin names have been avoided, as well as those
purely technical terms that are unfamiliar to the
layman.

The author's observations of bird life, cover-
ing a period of more than thirty years, have been
made for the most part in his home state, Maine,
in the region about New York City, New Jersey,
the Catskill Mountains, and in the Southern
States.

vu

CONTENTS

CHAPTBS VA«»

Foreword v

Preface vii

I. A Bird's Year i

II. Bird Study i6

III. A Numerous Family 37

IV. Flycatchers 67

V. Swallows 79

VI. Our Best Singers 87

VII. Vireos 104

VIII. A Summer Chorus iii

IX. Woodpeckers 126

X. Winter Comrades 139

XL Thrashers and Wrens 157

XII. Wood Warblers 170

XIII. Birds of Many Families 196

XIV. Hawks and Owls 221

XV. The Wilderness in June 236

XVI. In the Orchard 274

XVII. Bird Oddities 288

XVIII. Bird Protection 302

Index 315

ix

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Chewink {In full color) {See page ^j) . . Frontispiece

Catbird 3

Loon 9

Aleadow Lark {In full color) 24

Northern Shrike 31

Swamp Sparrow 46

White-throated Sparrow {In full color) .... 48

Tree Sparrow 50

Chewink 5^

Kingbird 70

Olive-sided Flycatcher 76

Purple Martin 85

Wood Thrush (/n/W/ro/or) 88

Meadow Lark 116

Flicker {In full color) 135

Golden-crowned Kinglet 147

American Crow 154

Brown Thrasher 160

Long-billed Marsh Wren 167

American Redstart (/n/w//fo/of) 178

Black-throated Green Warbler 182

xi

Chestnut-sided Warbler (/n/tt//fo/of) . . . .186

Yellow-breasted Chat 189

Great Blue Heron 196

Spotted Sandpiper 198

Belted Kingfisher 200

Cedar Waxwing 203

Yellow-billed Cuckoo 206

Chimney Swift 210

Sharp-shinned Hawk 223

Sparrow Hawk 227

Screech Owl 231

Barred Owl 233

Second Pond, showing Mt. Baker 236

Pleasant River 238

American Redstart 263

"Paddling to the farther shore" . . . . . . 268

*Rich pasture lands slope down to the farmhouses of

the valley" 276

J unco (In full color) 288

Wood Thrush 308

xu

BIRDS OF
FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Chapter I
A BIRD'S YEAR

**I hear the wild geese honking
From out the misty night, —
A sound of moving armies
On-sweeping in their might;
The river ice is drifting
Beneath their northward flight."

— Burroughs.

With the first sign of yielding on the part of
grim winter there is a stir throughout all bird-
land. As spring comes on apace, up from the
South moves the restless host and scatters over
the entire northland until every field, forest and
park has its quota of feathered tenants. So regu-
lar are the comings and goings of these messen-
gers that they have been aptly termed the "mail
carriers of the seasons." To one who has the
love of Nature's melodies in his heart and whose
eye is keen to appreciate her beauties, the advent
in early March of the first Bluebird, Robin, or
Song Sparrow is a very important event in the
calendar. Not only does their coming mark the
approaching end of the dreary season of cold and
snow when life in the open is at its lowest ebb,

2 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

but it announces in no uncertain tones the ad-
vent of spring with her many and varied attrac-
tions. Who does not feel a thrill of vernal J07
when on some bleak and sunless day in March
there comes to his eager ears the trumpet-like
honk, ho7ik, honk of wild geese as they make
their hurried way across the leaden sky, bound
north? It is with keen admiration and a feeling
akin to awe that one beholds the sudden appear-
ance of these hardy forerunners of the migrating
army; and one wonders at the strange instinct
that prompts them to leave their comfortable
quarters in the distant southland and start upon
what seems to us a long and wearisome journey,
whose goal is the frozen and forbidding north.
In bird land life is a constant change, and the
events of a year make a complete cycle. With
those birds that migrate, the winter months are
passed amid scenes which suit the individual
taste of each variety; and to the migrant headed
southw^ard the choice of locality is surely a broad
one. No doubt food habits play a very important
part in the selection. To be sure of an adequate
supply of their favorite food, the Flycatchers
journey to the land where Jack Frost rarely, if
ever, visits ; while seed and berry eaters may re-
main where the weather is much colder, the
hardier varieties even in the land of snow and
zero temperature. That hardy denizen of the
north woods, the Ruffed Grouse, whose favorite
food is the delicate buds of birch, maple and
apple-tree, finds cold weather and deep snows
little hindrance to his well-being; in fact, I have
sometimes thought, when coming unexpectedly

(A I i;iui)

A BIRD'S YEAR

upon a Grouse in midwinter, that the severe
weather adds strength to his sturdy wings.

During the winter months most migrants,
often in loose bands made up of several varieties
having similar feeding habits, lead a nomadic
life, apparently care free except for the necessity,
which they constantly face, of securing the daily
food supply. So generously does bountiful Na-
ture provide for her children this is not usually
a difficult task. Birds do not have the instinct
which many animals possess of storing food in
excess of their immediate needs for use in winter,
hence the daily quest; neither do they sleep the
time away as do many animals.

Those birds that eat seeds and berries, as
Robins, Bluebirds, Catbirds, Sparrows and
Finches, iind their winter food in our Southern
States. The insect-eaters as a rule go farther
south, below the frost line, to southern Florida,
Mexico, Central and South America. Wood-
peckers find the grubs they eat under the bark
and in the wood of dead and decaying trees; so
that their food problem does not necessitate
migration. Sometimes Song and White-throated
Sparrows and Alyrtle Warblers find their winter
food as far north as New York City. Then they
do not migrate. In a clump of cedars just north
of Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, where the cat-
brier and poison ivy form a dense tangle, I have
often found these birds as late as the end of De-
cember; and they sometimes stay there all winter.

Several months are passed in this easy-going
sort of an existence. But the first breath of
spring which has its beginning in some Indefin-

4 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

able region to the southward, seems to stir our
bird friends there to memories of happy nestin?
sites amid summer's flower-strewn fields and
parks, or shady forests far away to the north.
With some varieties, as the Robins, the prelim-
inary to the journey is a great gathering of the
clans, sometimes tens of thousands in a loose
flock scattered over miles of country. After a
few days of socializing, they break up into small
squads and, in response to the migrating instinct,
set out upon a journey, long or short, according
to the relative location of the winter haunt and
summer nesting ground.

All the members of a given family move at
about the same time and, if the observation is
made south of their nesting-grounds, usually
pass a given point in a few days after the first
individual of that species appears. Then they
are seen no more until the return in the late sum-
mer or fall. I see the Fox Sparrows in goodly
numbers about the parks of Brooklyn during the
first days of April. In about two weeks they pass
northward and are not seen again until their
return journey in late fall.

Among migrants the bolder and stronger, and
those that feed on the wing, fly by day, the more
timid by night, when they seem to feel a greater
sense of security from their natural enemies.
At intervals they stop for food and rest, when-
ever suitable cover is found, oftentimes even in
the heart of a great city. In the shrubbery of the
city parks and backyards during the migrations
of spring and fall will be found Interesting visi-
tors, distinguished strangers, of whose presence

A BIRD'S YEAR

one is little aware unless the eye and ear be keen
for their coming. Sometimes, if the cats are not
too numerous, they will tarry for a few days in a
sheltered yard where food may be had.

The great highways of the air, which are
traversed every spring and fall by millions upon
millions of birds, have a general course that con-
forms with the direction of the coast line and
the river valleys. During fair weather the flight
is high, probably more than a mile above the
earth, where their progress is unobstructed.
But when fog and rain set in, the flight is much
lower and they are often confused as to their
proper course. Then it is that many come to un-
timely death by striking against lighthouses, tall
buildings, telegraph and other wares. During a
prolonged storm the loss of life among migrating
birds from these causes is appalling; and this is
only one of the many dangers that beset these
plucky little travelers. In many of our States,
particularly in the south, the laws for the pro-
tection of birds are wholly inadequate, so that
even during the spring migration whenever they
seek shelter to rest and feed they are pursued by
hunters. They are also sadly beset by the
ubiquitous cat. Besides, songbirds in migration
fall prey to the feathered hunters, the Hawk and
Owl, that find easy victims in the host of trav-
elers. Yet, despite all dangers, myriads of these
heralds of the spring arrive in safety, dressed in
their gayest suits, bubbling over with happy
songs to cheer and entertain us during the golden
months of summer.

With strong fliers like Loons, Ducks, Geese,

6 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Swallows, etc., the journey Is rapid and direct
and occupies but a few days, even though the
distance covered is long. For those birds, also,
that winter in the near-by south the journey,
though made leisurely, occupies but a few days.
In marked contrast to these are the movements
of those far travelers, whose journeylngs are
little short of marvelous. The Bobolink winters
in central Brazil, and the routes to and from the
winter home, especially of those that breed in
our Western States, are very Indirect. They
travel leisurely through the Southern States
where as Reedbirds and later as RIcebirds they
are considered fair game for the hunter, because
of their fat, plump bodies. Leaving the con-
fines of the United States by the way of Florida,
they fly across the ninety miles of sea to Cuba,
proceed along that island, thence to the Leeward
and Windward Islands by easy flight, finally
reaching the shore of South America, whence
the remaining distance to their winter haunts In
central Brazil is leisurely made. Despite the
long distance traveled, their goings and comings
are made with great regularity and we can pre-
dict with much certainty when they will arrive
in early May. Mr. Chapman points out that
Bobolinks were formerly found In summer only
in our Eastern States, but they have gradually
moved west until now they are found beyond
the Mississippi, even as far as the Rocky Moun-
tains. And yet when the migration begins In the
fall, these western dwellers travel eastward to
join their brethren for the long journey, not-
withstanding that their winter home could be

A BIRD'S YEAR

reached by a much shorter land route via Mex-
ico and Central America. Truly instinct is a
strange and exacting master! The Golden
Plover winters in far-away Patagonia but builds
its nest within the Arctic Circle, covering twice
each year a journey of nearly or quite ten thou-
sand miles. Is it not a strange and powerful
impulse that prompts birds to cover these enor-
mous distances with all the perils and vicissi-
tudes incident thereto.^

The cause of these movements is still a mys-
tery, although scientists have given much atten-
tion to the matter. The most reasonable expla-
nation seems to be that they had their beginnings
ages ago when the ice cap which covered a great
portion of the Northern Hemisphere receded and
advanced under varying conditions of tempera-
ture. It seems that much force is given to this
theory by the fact that birds of the southern
hemisphere where the ice movements did not
occur do not, as a rule, migrate, but are per-
manent residents in their various localities. It
seems clear that the migratory movement can
scarcely result from the food problem alone, or
the desire for secure nesting places, for in either
case the northern journey would not necessarily
help them.

The relative time of the arrival of the many
varieties that make up the vast bird army
naturally depends upon one's location. The
slow fliers arrive in the latitude of New York
City a week or ten days earlier than in central
New England and northern New York, and
about two weeks earlier than in northern Maine.

8 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Of course the fast travelers cover these distances
in a much shorter time. The duration of the
spring migration is about eighty days, extend-
ing from early March to late May. In the
autumn the southward movement is made more
leisurely, extending from mid-August to late
November or early December. At this season
they seem in no hurry and many of the hardier
varieties linger until the real grip of winter is
felt.

The northward journey is ended when the
bird has arrived in nesting grounds which are to
its liking. As a rule, members of a given variety
occupy the same general region, the area of
which varies greatly with the different species.
A few stragglers will venture farther than the
majority of the species, and a few laggards stay
somewhat behind the main body; but they
occupy pretty definite zones, except as the sum-
mer range is influenced by altitude. In moun-
tainous regions will be found nesting birds be-
longing to a species the main body of which
occupies a lower region, often much farther
north. For example, along the Allegheny and
Blue Ridge Mountains will be found as summer
residents a few varieties of which the great
majority are much farther north, perhaps in
northern New England or Canada.

There have been lodged in the public mind
many interesting but highly erroneous beliefs
regarding the migration of birds, arising, no
doubt, from the mystery that attaches to their
sudden appearance in the spring and their
equally sudden departure in the fall. In Eng-

A BIRD'S YEAR

land it was long bclic\'cd that Swallows hiber-
nate in the mud as do frogs. Even so keen an
observer as Gilbert White held to this belief, and
probably this strange notion has not yet been
wholly eradicated from the minds of men.
The old Penobscot Indian who sometimes acts
in the capacity of guide on my excursions into
the north woods assures me that his tribe be-
lieve that all the "little chip birds" make the
long migrating journey by clinging to the backs
of the larger birds, strong fliers as Loons, Geese,
Ducks, Herons, etc., stealing a ride as it were.
A lady recently asked me if it were true, as her
pastor had explained, that Swallows carry food
under their wings for use during the migration.
While one may understand how these fantastic
beliefs may have been held by ignorant persons
a century or more ago and by illiterate Indians,
it is not easy to understand how such an idea as
that held by the preacher can find lodgment in
the mentality of average intelligence and of
liberal education.

Very soon after arriving in the region selected
for the summer home, usually as soon as the
stains of travel have been removed and tired
bodies rested, attention is turned to the very
important matter of selecting a mate. The
males then are clad in their gayest suits, and
their choicest songs are ready to woo the ear of
the coy female. A few varieties are said to keep
the same mate year after year, but this seems
rather unlikely. However, the choice is soon
made, an agreement reached, and the attention
of the pair is turned to the selection of a suitable

10 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

site for the nest; and as to choice of location a
wide range of preference is made by the various
families.

Some are expert builders, spending much
time in the construction of the nest. Others are
indifferent workmen, merely gathering a pile of
sticks and reeds with little form and no beauty.
A few varieties lay their eggs on a bare rock or a
flat-roofed house with no nest at all; and one
variety, the Cowblrds, lay their eggs in the nests
of other birds, leaving the hatching of the eggs
and the care of the fledglings to the little mother
who has built the nest and has her own brood to
care for. The great majority of birds, however,
build substantial nests which, in some cases,
serve as the home of two broods in a season; and
sometimes the nest is used the second season;
but this, I believe, does not often occur. Those
birds whose young run as soon as hatched are
the least expert nest builders.

The nest completed, the eggs are laid some-
times on consecutive days, sometimes with an
interval of several days between. Then follows
the period of incubation, varying with different
species from ten to twenty-one days. During
this time the eggs must be kept warm. This re-
quires pretty constant attention. With some
varieties the female alone sits on the eggs, be-
ing fed by the male. With other varieties the
male spells her, so that she may seek her own
food and rest from her irksome task. You will
note when you scare a sitting bird from her nest
that either flight or running is difficult at first,
the muscles of the wings and legs being stiffened

A BIRD'S YEAR 11

from disuse. The male Is usually a constant at-
tendant upon the female, spending his time near
the nest and cheering his faithful mate with his
best songs.

The eggs do not all hatch on the same day,
but at Intervals which correspond to the time
intervening between the days on which the
different eggs were laid. With the coming of the
helpless fledglings begins the busiest period of
the year for the birds. Not only must there be
an almost Incessant hunt for food adequate to
meet the demands of the voracious youngsters,
but they must be protected from all marauders,
thieving bird, snake, squirrel, or cat.

With a few families, as the Ruffed Grouse, the
male bird takes no part in the care of the flock;
In fact it appears that he deserts the female even
before the period of incubation begins. But
with practically all the song birds and many
others as well, the domestic duties are shared by
both parents, and they seem fully absorbed and
withal very happy in the work of rearing the
brood. Their efforts are attended by many
difficulties, for they are beset by frequent
dangers. If one watches the nests in his neigh-
borhood for a few weeks he will be astonished
at the great number of tragedies in the bird
homes. Yet despite all the dangers, many house-
holds are undisturbed and the youngsters grow
to maturity with no untoward accidents, adding
their numbers to the growing host making ready
for the return to the winter homes In the south.

As we have seen, if conditions are favorable,
several varieties rear two broods In a season. A

12 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

pair of Bluebirds occupy a little Swiss chalet
which we have placed on the shelf formed by the
eve finish breaking around the corner of our
house. When the first brood is ready to fly, they
are convoyed to the orchard at the back of the
house and cared for by the father, while the
mother returns to the nest, lays another clutch
of eggs, hatches and rears another brood. In
early August the two families unite and we have
a fine squad of youngsters about the lawn until
autumn is well under way.

The early comers have their broods well along
toward maturity before the latest migrants ar-
rive. Early in June young Crackles and Robins,
in their short-tailed, spotted coats, may be seen
about the parks of Brooklyn. As a rule, how-
ever, March arrivals do not begin nest building
for several weeks, until weather conditions are
more favorable. The Canada Jay nests very
early, sometimes in February or March, before
the terrible cold of the northern winter has in
any degree abated.

With the later arrivals there is less delay, ex-
cept in a few notable cases of which the Cherry-
bird and Coldfinch are conspicuous examples.
These birds spend the spring and early summer
in careless roaming about the country, delaying
the domestic duties until the season is well
advanced. Sometimes as late as mid-August I
find nests of the Cherrybird with eggs. Perhaps
this delay is occasioned by the desire of the
parents to provide their nestlings with some
delicacy that is not earlier available. Who
knows ?

A BIRD'S YEAR 13

With many migrating birds, soon after the
young are full grown, old and young gather in
flocks and, for several weeks, roam happily
about the country before taking up their south-
ward journey. But prior to their departure is
the moulting which follows close upon the breed-
ing season. Then birds are very quiet. There is
little song and activity of ail kinds is at low ebb.
Then the gay suits of the males are doffed and
sober-colored coats better adapted for travel are
put on.

The southward flight begins early in August.
Tree and Bank Swallows are among the first to
leave and several of the more delicate warblers
begin their journey well ahead of the advent of
Jack Frost. With these birds the stay in the
nesting grounds is very short, just long enough
to rear their broods, scarcely more than two
months. This seems a very brief period when
the length of the migration is considered. But
those sturdy heralds of the spring, the Grackle,
Robin, Bluebird and Song Sparrow, stay late,
some of them seeming to leave with reluctance
only when cheerless winter is close upon them.

The tide of southern migration is at its height
from September 15 to mid-October. The army
that comes in the spring has now been increased
by all the broods reared, a vast host. This is
rather a discouraging period for the new student
of bird life, because of the change in plumage
since the springtime, and the lack of song. The
gayly dressed males are now in plain clothes and
the host of young birds are in costume often
quite unlike that of either parent. This leads to

14 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

much confusion, not to say perplexity, on the
part of the student who thought he could iden-
tify all common varieties. But one should not
take these difficulties too seriously, for with
their return again next spring they will appear
in their familiar garb.

The round of the year's happenings is com-
pleted when the winter habitat is reached again.
It is a life of ceaseless activity with much of
danger and many difficulties to overcome, but
withal we may believe with much of joy. Under
normal conditions birds seem very happy. We
know little about the hardships they encounter
during their absence, of the countless numbers
that perish from the vicissitudes of travel. They
tell no tales. They return to us clad in their best
clothes, bubbling over with song, giving no sign
of having grown old. We accept them as they
appear, and feel a deep sense of gratitude that
we live in a land selected as a summer home by
the host of feathered songsters who give us much
to enjoy in beautiful plumage and cheerful song.

Very little is known about the age to which
birds live, except in the case of those that have
been kept in confinement for many years; and
probably the facts thus obtained have little re-
lation to the length of life of the same variety
in a wild state. An effort is now being made by
bird students to find out definitely about the
length of life of birds, the direction and extent
of migratory movements, etc., by attaching
small aluminum bands to the legs of young
birds wherever found, bearing the name and
address of the person interested. It is believed in

A BIRD'S YEAR 15

the course of time much can be learned in this
way. Wherever one of these banded birds is
found, information as to the place, date, etc.,
should be at once forwarded to the address on
the band.

Chapter II
BIRD STUDY

"For Nature, true and like in every place,
Will hint her secret in a garden patch.'*

— Naturiy Emerson.

It seems to be the common belief that bird
life is confined almost exclusively to the country;
that so far as the city is concerned the only
opportunity to pursue this most interesting
phase of nature study is found in the museums
and avaries of the zoological gardens. That this
impression is false may be easily proved. Even
slight investigation will show that there is much
bird life to be seen in all our towns and cities,
even in New York City itself, which might be sup-
posed to offer as little attraction to these feath-
ered friends of ours as any city that one could
name.

In all city parks, where there is suitable shel-
ter, a goodly variety of birds will be found
throughout the summer. Along the tree-shaded
streets, in the gardens and on the lawns, in short
wherever there is found the desired protection
from their natural enemies, birds will be found
in some numbers at all seasons; and during the
migration periods of spring and autumn certain
city parks are among the very best places to
make the acquaintance of a great number of

\6

BIRD STUDY 17

varieties. In two hours on a Saturday afternoon
in May, 191 2, when the migration was at its
height, I saw more than thirty different species
of birds in Forest Park, Borough of Queens, New
York City. In all there were several hundred
birds, among them some, as the Parula Warbler,
the Water Thrush, and the Yellow-bellied Fly-
catcher, that are considered as comparatively
rare. Of the first two varieties named there
were scores if not hundreds of birds. To be sure
they were but travelers, halted for food and rest,
yet the opportunity offered to study them was ex-
cellent, as they were quite fearless. On the two
following Saturdays more than twenty varieties
were found on each visit, and several settled down
there to build their nests and rear their young.
For more than ten years I have visited Prospect
Park, Brooklyn, at all seasons of the year, ex-
cept midsummer, and on no occasion, even in
winter, have I failed to find some form of bird
life. Starlings, imported about twenty years ago
from England, have become very numerous, and
these talkative little fellows are in evidence at all
seasons of the year, during the fall and winter
usually in large flocks. Woodpeckers and Blue
Jays are permanent residents, while the summer
colony is a numerous one.

In the many city parks which I have visited
here and abroad, wherever there are trees and
shrubbery, birds have been found. Even in the
Garden of the Tuileries in Paris, a much fre-
quented park in the heart of the city, I found
that delightful singer the European Blackbird, a
large Wood Pigeon, the Bullfinch and several

18 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Other varieties nesting as happily as though far
distant from the turmoil of a great city. On a
recent visit to Chicago, in Jackson Park, were
found many nesting birds, Robins, Purple
Crackles, the House Wren, Kingbirds and sev-
eral Warblers. Thus one sees that these friends
of man are ready to stay near him whenever he
will provide home sites and shelter that are
suitable for their need.

Distribution of Bird Life. Bird life is very
generally distributed over the earth's surface.
On mountain heights, in mid-ocean, in the great
deserts, even in the Polar regions, as well as in
our fields, forests and parks, birds are found.
Mr. Amundsen reports having found Gulls and
Penguins very near the South Pole, so that one
may believe that the distribution of bird life is
practically universal. Thus we see that where-
ever we go we may always find birds to study,
under widely varying conditions in different
parts of the earth.

Form. All birds have the same general form,
but they differ much in the size and shape of the
various parts. The peculiar structure of each
species seems to be that best adapted to its
habits of life. And it is generally believed that
the present shape and structure of the different
families is the result of ages of pursuit of cer-
tain fixed habits, especially those habits which
pertain to gaining the daily food supply, the
most important activity of each bird as well as
the most constant. Flycatchers are keen of eye
and quick of wing. Hunting birds, like Hawks
and Owls, have stout legs and toes which are

BIRD STUDY 19

armed with long, curved, and very sharp talons,
perfect instruments, you would say, for striking
and holding their prey. These birds also have
long, curved beaks which serve as excellent
hooks for tearing. Wading birds, like Herons,
Cranes, Flamingoes and Snipes have long legs,
while with perching birds the legs are short with
slender toes having many joints, the better to
cling to the perch. Swimming birds have good
paddles in their webbed feet, while with diving
birds, like Loons and Grebes, the stout legs are
set at the extreme end of the body, a structure
which gives them great power in the water, but
renders walking on the land very awkward. In
consequence, their nests are always close to
the water. Swallows have long wings which they
use with great skill and much grace, but their
feet are so small that they are very poor walkers.
Some of the sea birds, the Albatross and the
Frigate-bird, have enormous wings and are thus
able to sustain themselves in flight for very long
periods. On the other hand, the Ostrich and
Cassowary have wings so small in proportion to
their large bodies that they cannot fly at all;
but both have long and well developed legs
which enable them to run with great speed. It
is probable that these were once flying birds,
but their wings have diminished in size because
of disuse.

There is also great variation in the size and
shape of the bill. The hunters, as we have seen,
have sharp, hooked bills, well adapted for tear-
ing their prey in pieces. The Woodcock and
Snipe have very long and slender bills which

20 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

they use like drills for boring deep into the soft
earth for worms and insects. Cranes and Her-
ons have long, sharp bills well adapted for use
in catching frogs, toads and small fish. Wood-
peckers for the most part live on grubs and in-
sects hidden in the bark and in the interior of
dead trees; therefore they are provided with
bills for cutting like chisels; they are the car-
penters of the woods. Their feet, with two toes
ahead and two behind, are perfectly adapted to
clinging to the vertical trunk, and the stiff
spines of their tail feathers make excellent props
to support them at their work. Humming Birds
have very long, slender bills which make excel-
lent probes to reach far into the interior of
flowers for the nectar, and insects imprisoned
there. The seed eaters, like Sparrows, Finches
and Bobolinks, have short, thick bills, just
right for cracking the shell of the seed. Cone
eaters, like the Crossbills, have the most pecul-
iar bills of all. When closed, the points shut by
each other as though misshapen; hence the
name. But when opened for use they make a
most excellent implement for tearing apart the
cones. In fact, a more perfect instrument for
their needs could scarcely be devised.

Thus we see in the various families great dif-
ference in the size and shape of the several
parts. But usually the purpose is evident upon
a little investigation, and it will be seen that the
size and shape of bill, legs and wings is that best
adapted to the special use made of it by the
various species. Surely Mother Nature is a wise
and skillful architect who never does anything

BIRD STUDY 21

without a definite purpose, and who always
adopts the very best plan.

Plumage. Plumage is the bird's clothing.
It varies in thickness and color according to the
needs of the individual. Those birds that live
in countries of severe cold are provided with
thick, warm suits that cover them completely,
even to their toes, but dwellers in warm coun-
tries, including those that by migrating con-
stantly avoid low temperatures, are much more
scantily clad. The permanent residents in the
north temperate zone, where the summers are
hot and the winters very cold, shed many of
their feathers in the season of great heat, but
winter finds them fully clothed again.

Plumage of birds changes much during the
period of development. With those varieties
like Ducks, Loons, Geese, Sandpipers, Grouse,
Partridge, etc., that leave the nest as soon as
hatched, the first clothing of the youngsters is a
thick, warm suit of down, velvet-like in texture.
This dress is retained by the water-living birds
and makes a waterproof suit of underclothing
of great service in keeping their bodies dry, even
though they sit on the water constantly. With
those that live on the land. Sandpipers, Grouse,
etc., their first covering is soon replaced by the
regulation dress of feathers w^hich serves every
purpose. The young of most land birds when
hatched are nearly naked, and require the
mother bird's protection from heat, cold and
storms. But the feathers grow so rapidly that
in a very few days their bodies are well covered,
the wing and tail feathers being the last to grow.

22 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

All birds oil their feathers to keep out the wet,
from an oil cup nature has provided. So effec-
tive is this that in the hardest rainstorm, al-
though they may appear drenched on the out-
side, yet their skins are dry.

Color of Plumage. Each variety of birds has
its own distinctive colorings. A whole family, as
the Sparrows or Thrushes, may have the same
general colors, but each species has its own pe-
culiar dress. With many families, as the Fly-
catchers, Sparrows and Swallows, there is little
or no difference in the colors of the male and
female, while with other varieties the difference
is so marked that the relationship between the
sexes would never be recognized. With the
female Cardinal, Indigo Bunting and Goldfinch,
there is a tinge of the dominant color of the
male to lead to her identification. But the
female Bobolink, Purple Finch or Scarlet Tana-
ger so little resembles the male that she might
easily be taken for another variety.

With many varieties of birds, the color of the
youngsters' first suit is strikingly different from
that of the grown-ups. When the colors of the
male and female are unlike, the young male
resembles the father, the young female, the
mother. But when the parents have the same
coloring, the young usually resemble them. In
some varieties, as the Bobolink, where the
father bird wears his gay suit for a short time
only, the young resemble the female. But when
the young do not resemble either of the adult
birds, usually they acquire the colors of matu-
rity when a year old, but in a few cases, not
until the second or third year.

BIRD STUDY 23

Besides the changes in color of plumage that
occur with the development of the young birds,
there are the interesting changes that result
from the annual moultine. From the great activ-
ity of the mating and nesting season, the suit
worn during the spring migration becomes much
faded and frayed, so that by midsummer there
is need for new clothes. By the process of moult-
ing, the old feathers are cast off and new ones
quickly replace them. At this time birds are
inactive, rather shy, and apparently low
spirited, for little song is heard. With many
varieties it happens that the new suit is so un-
like the old that we do not easily recognize the
bird in his new dress, except for certain familiar
call notes, poses, habits of flight, and little man-
nerisms which we come to associate with individ-
ual birds, as we do with human beings. At this
season the male Bobolink doffs his gay suit of
black, white and buff and dons the plain
brownish gray suit worn by his mate all the
year. That little dandy, the Goldfinch, puts
away his brilliant suit of black and gold and
appears in a sober dress in which the prevailing
color is dull olive green. The Scarlet Tanager
also changes his beautiful red suit and seems
content for the balance of the year to wear the
modest colors of his wife. Birds that change
color at this season moult again in the early
spring, when they don their bright colors for
the period of song and mating. So they are sup-
plied with two new suits each year. Truly
Mother Nature is a generous provider!

Color Protection. A very interesting rela-

24 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

tion is often observed in the harmony that
exists between the coloring of a bird's plumage
and the prevailing tones in its usual surround-
ings. The Sparrow family,, for the most part
ground dwellers in field and pasture, have those
shades of gray, brown and black which closely
resemble the colors of the earth's carpet of grass
stalks. The Meadow Lark, Plover and Bob
White, living mostly on the ground, have similar
coloring. If you visit that sturdy denizen of the
woodland, the Ruifed Grouse, in his haunts, you
cannot fail to note the almost perfect harmony
that exists between the fine tones of gray, brown
and buff of his plumage and the color of the dead
leaves and mosses that carpet his forest home.
But the Spruce Partridge, as his name suggests
a dweller of the great spruce woods of the north
where the earth is of much darker color, is
almost black. Birds that dwell in lands where
snow lies on the ground the greater part of the
year, like the Snowy Owl and Ptarmigan, are
almost white. The Snowbunting, when he comes
down from the north to visit us in winter, is
almost as white as the snowbank he lights upon.
But all of these northern birds turn somewhat
darker in the summer when rearing their broods
where the snow has disappeared. This change
of color is the result of wearing off the white
tips of their feathers.

In the South Kensington Museum in London
there are displayed several varieties of birds
from the Desert of Sahara resting upon the
stones and earth characteristic of their habitat.
So complete is the harmony of color between

j!

if-

Courtesy of the National Absocialiou of Audubon Societies

mi:aix)\v lark

BIRD STUDY 55

the plumage and their surroundings that they
are quite protected. The Vireo family, dwellers
among the thick tops of maple, birch and elm,
have an olive green shade above and light colors
underneath that render them quite inconspic-
uous in their sunlit bowers. It is not so easy,
however, to recognize the relation which the
more brilliantly colored birds, as the Goldfinch,
Tanager, Indigo Bunting and the gayly dressed
Warblers, bear to their surroundings.

That they are in a goodly degree protected
by their colors seems to be well known to
the birds themselves, for often they remain
quiet upon the nest until one is almost upon
them, no doubt believing they are safe because
so closely resembling their surroundings in
color. Not long ago when returning to Camp
Boulder from a morning's fishing, as we rowed
along shore, a pair of Blue Herons settled on a
marshy spot overgrown with rushes so near us
that we quite wondered at their boldness. But
almost instantly after lighting they became
quite inconspicuous from the blending of their
colors with the prevailing shades about them.
They evidently wxre conscious of the fact, for
close as we passed they did not take wing,
although so much have they been pursued by
the man with a gun they are usually difficult to
approach. This is a very interesting phase of
bird life and offers to the student opportunity
for much research.

Nests. It is during the nesting season that
many birds come into the closest relationship
with mankind. Then it is that they seem to be

26 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

fully conscious of the feeling of tender interest
which we hold toward them, for laying aside
much of their usual fear and shyness they come
close about our dwellings to find suitable home
sites, with evident confidence in our love and good
will toward them. In fact, many varieties of
birds seek nesting places close to the haunts of
men, rarely breeding elsewhere. Others seek
isolated nesting places as far as possible from
man whom, alas, they have too much reason to
fear.

In nest building birds display much skill and
ingenuity. In general it may be said that the
members of a given family have the same habits
as to site, shape of the nest, material, etc.; and
yet adaptation is often necessary to meet local
conditions. In selecting a location for the nest,
safety from their natural enemies, as cats,
snakes, birds of prey, squirrels, etc., seems to be
the main object; yet at times great stupidity is
shown. A pair of Robins will build so near the
ground that prowling cat or weasel could
scarcely pass by a nest full of fat young fledg-
lings. At a neighbor's house this year, a Cat-
bird built in a bush by the back door of the
kitchen, so near the ground as to invite the
early attention of the cats with which the farm-
house was supplied. The fate of the poor bird
is easily guessed. On the other hand, many
birds seek the most inaccessible places, tops of
tall trees, and high cliffs.

Most birds are good builders and take great
pains in the construction of the nest which is
the home of their tender young for several weeks.

BIRD STUDY 27

With those varieties where the young leave the
nest as soon as hatched, much less care is given
to nest building; in fact, some varieties, as
Night Hawks, build no nest at all, laying the
eggs on a bare rock, roof of a building, or some
other equally exposed position. With Ducks,
Grouse, Loons, etc., the structure is very crude,
being scarcely more than a bunch of leaves,
sticks, or reeds, a mere hollow to keep the eggs
together during the period of incubation.

But many birds spend much time in building
the nest and display great skill both in the
work of construction and in its concealment.
The dainty little cup of the Humming-bird,
scarcely larger than a good-sized thimble, care-
fully saddled onto a limb and covered with
lichens so skillfully as to resemble a knot so
closely that only the keenest eyes can detect the
difference, is a work of art that would quite
baffle the deftest fingers. Vireos, too, are fine
workers, building a symmetrical cup so strong
and durable that it will sometimes withstand
the storms and winds for several years before
it is completely destroyed. These beautiful
structures are lined with plant cotton, soft as
down, making as dainty a resting place for the
tiny fledglings as one can imagine.

It has always seemed to me that the Bank
Swallows and Kingfishers are among the wisest
of birds, so far as selecting a safe home site is
concerned. They dig tunnels in a sand bank
several feet in length, at the far end of which a
chamber is excavated in which the nest is built.
You will readily see what a safe place this is,

28 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

for prowling cat, squirrel or snake has little
chance of entering. These birds may be classed
as good engineers.

Eave Swallows are good masons. From the
mud-puddle in the clay road they roll up little
pellets which are placed one upon another like
bricks, making a strong structure when the
material is thoroughly dry. Sometimes a colony
of a score or more build a sort of tenement
house, but each dwelling has its own entrance.
Barn Swallows use the same material, but
usually place the nest on the beams or rafters of
a barn, or other outbuilding of the farm, lining
it with hens' feathers. Rarely one sees a nest
of this Swallow on the outside of a building.

The Orioles are very skillful builders, weav-
ing a fine, bag-shaped nest of strings, grass and
tendrils, which they suspend from the end of
some slender bough, usually of an elm tree,
where it swings and sways in the summer
breezes, its inmates quite safe from danger in all
forms. Sparrows build substantial nests of root-
lets, grasses, hair, wool, etc., on the ground, or
in low bushes, as the case may be. Our old friend,
the Robin, builds a rough but substantial nest
of mud and straw, shaping it with her breast.
Hawks, Owls and Crows build large nests of
coarse sticks, usually in forest trees that are
quite inaccessible. The Marsh Hawk, however,
builds on the ground.

The nesting habits of birds change with vary-
ing conditions as to surroundings. Chimney
Swifts and Tree Swallows formerly nested in
hollow trees, but with the disappearance of the

BIRD STUDY 29

forests, the former seek unused chimneys, while
the latter will gladly accept the proffer of a bird-
house. One of the little chalets under the eave
of our house in the country has had a Tree
Swallow as tenant for several years. The Song
Sparrow, a ground-nesting bird, now and then
builds in the tangle of woodbine that covers the
end of our barn. Our constant friend, the
Phoebe, formerly nested in caves, under shelter-
ing ledges and banks, but now finds a desirable
site for her well built nest under a bridge, in the
barn cellar, or in an unused building.
^ The House Wren seeks very unusual nesting
sites. A box is a favorite place, but an old shoe,
an empty oil-can, or any hole or crevice large
enough to receive the tiny structure will do.
A friend told me of finding a House Wren's nest
in the pocket of a carpenter's apron which had
hung in the wood-house unused for several
weeks. So much at home did the little sprite
seem that my friend had not the heart to dis-
turb her domestic arrangements, and the apron
was not moved until the brood had left their
quaint home.

A great deal could be written about the nest-
ing of birds, but perhaps this will suffice to show
how varied are their habits. No phase of bird
study is more attractive, or more worthy of
study. In nearly all States wise laws have
been passed regarding the taking of birds' eggs,
and they may be collected only for strictly
scientific purposes. But most boys and girls
today have learned that the eggs are most inter-
esting when seen in the nest, and left to hatch

30 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

where the growth of the young may become a
subject of daily enjoyment.

Call Notes. The utterances of birds con-
sist of call notes and songs. All birds have the
former, but all do not sing. Call notes are the
language of the birds, by which very definite
meanings are conveyed and clearly understood
by one another. A great variety of emotions,
love, fear, hatred, jealousy, sorrow, etc., are
clearly expressed by them, if only we could
understand. Watch a pair of Robins as a cat
approaches their nest of fledglings and you will
have little difficulty in reading the story of the
tragedy from the emphatic utterances of the
distracted parents. The tender cooing of a pair
of Turtle Doves will leave little doubt in the
mind of the listener as to their ability to express
affection and endearment. The pleasant ripples
and gurgles that come to my ear in the early
morning from a box within a few feet of my
chamber window, which is the home of a pair of
Bluebirds, is good evidence to me of their ability
to give expression to the feelings of great fe-
licity and domestic happiness which pervade
their home, even though my dull ears are not
able to understand the details of their conver-
sation. The Sentinel Crow, posted on some lofty
lookout to guard the flock busily extracting the
kernels of corn which the farmer has so carefully
planted, conveys instantly a very definite mes-
sage as to the immanence of the danger when
the irate farmer appears, gun in hand. Equally
intelligent to his fellows, though less alarming,
is the signal he gives when you leisurely saunter

BIRD STUDY 31

toward the corntield with no death-deahng
weapon in sight; then your approach may be
quite close before they withdraw.

When marauding Shrike or Hawk suddenly
and on noiseless wing plunges into the midst
of a flock of songsters, the cry of fear that
goes up sends every defenceless bird in sight to
cover instantly. There is no mistaking the
signal and the response is immediate. Equally
definite and vastly more pleasing is the happy
conversation that goes on in a flock of Chick-
adees as they busily work away at their never-
ending search for food on a bleak winter day.
The fortitude and hardihood of these sturdy
little birds quite excites one's admiration, and
one easily concludes that their happy notes are
really for the purpose of cheering and encourag-
ing one another at their seemingly cheerless
task. At any rate, they convey a lesson of
cheerfulness and gratitude to us mortals which
we cannot quite afford to overlook.

Song. To the great majority of people birds
are most attractive in their vocal utterances, and
one hears many songs when the singer is not
seen. It is through their fine musical perform-
ances that birds appeal directly to the heart,
and a careful study of the various species in this
particular will bring the keenest enjoyment.
Few experiences of my life have given me so
much genuine pleasure as the study of bird song.

Each variety has its own utterances, but not
all may be classified as music. Often there is a
striking resemblance between the songs of the
diff"erent members of a family. For example,

32 BIRDS OF FIELD. FOREST AND PARK

with the Thrushes, by all bird lovers declared
to be the very prima donnas of the bird
chorus, the songs of the various species differ
greatly, and yet there is a quality of tone com-
mon to all their songs that is quite unmistak-
able when one has once become familiar with
the notes of this family. The same is true of the
Vireos, and perhaps the family resemblance is
quite as striking.

In a given species the songs of individual birds
will vary to a considerable degree. Mr. Bur-
roughs tells me of a Song Sparrow that had in its
repertory at least eight songs. A bird of this
kind within hearing from our lawn this summer
had a peculiar ending to his song that was
unlike anything I have ever heard. But in gen-
eral it may be said the similarity is close enough
between members of the same variety to be easily
identified when judged by the typical song.
With some varieties the males alone sing; in
others both sing with equal skill. Other varie-
ties, as Cranes, Crows, Jays, Hawks, Ducks,
Snipe, and most of the wading and water birds,
have no song at all. Even that exquisite crea-
ture, the Cherrybird, has no song, its only note
being a faint lisping '' seep seep^'' not especially
sweet or musical. The Swallows, except the
Martin, can scarcely be classed as singers, yet
their contented warbles make very pleasant
sounds during the sultry summer days.

Bird song is almost endless in its variety.
The ^^ sweet heart'' notes of the Chickadee, the
tumbling torrent of the Bobolink as he hovers
above the flower-strewn meadow, the measured

BIRD STUDY 33

anthem of the Hermit, his evening hymn of
praise, are good examples of the variety that one
finds in Nature's chorus.

There is a charm attached to those bird songs
heard in our younger years that is not replaced
by others of later years, however excellent.
The birds of our youth were the sweetest singers.
It would be very difficult to convince a boy of a
New England farm that the world holds any
sweeter singer than the Bobolink or Hermit
Thrush. The boy who passes his youth among
the charms of a southern plantation would not
believe it possible for any feathered singer to
excel his own dear Mocking Bird and Cardinal,
while our English cousins just as firmly believe
that their wonderful Nightingale and Skylark
represent the very acme of excellence in bird
song. So it is not easy to say what and where
are the best bird singers. Perhaps, after all, the
song in our own hearts finding expression
through these feathered minstrels is the one
that most delights our ears.

Wise Nature has not placed all her choice
singers in one country or in a single locality.
Every land has its chorus of excellent per-
formers, returning each year overflowing with
love and joy which are given expression in this
form. The only price of admission to Nature's
chorus is an attentive ear, a listening heart.
Perhaps if the price were expressed in dollars
more would become patrons of the bird opera.

Bird Study. As we have seen, birds are to be
found in practically all localities, if only one
takes the trouble to look them up. The winter

34 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

is a ver>^ good time to begin the study of birds.
Then the museum may be visited where one
easily becomes familiar with the plumage of
many varieties. Field work also may be profit-
ably taken up at this time of the year when, be-
cause the varieties are few, one is less liable to
become confused. Besides, experience gained at
this time will be found of great value when the
migration sets in and new arrivals are appearing
almost daily, and sometimes several varieties
in a single day.

To succeed in this study, first of all one should
cultivate patience, and while in the field move
quietly and deliberately, with eye and ear
fully alert. An excellent way is to seek cover
which birds frequent, sit down and remain
quiet; then you will nearly always be rewarded
by the appearance of some interesting bird.
It is of much importance to learn the call
notes and songs, for this will help greatly in the
identification of various species. And, besides,
you will hear many birds that you do not see,
and really that you do not need to see, for you
know them by their utterances when once their
calls and songs are familiar. It adds much to
the interest of bird study if notes are taken,
especially of the dates of arrival in the spring of
the different varieties. Interesting conclusions
may be drawn from a series of such notes made
through a period of several years. One greatly
needs a pair of opera glasses, field glasses, or
binoculars.

Classifiication. All birds may be broadly in-
cluded in four general classes;

BIRD STUDY 35

I, Permanent residents; II, Summer visitors;
III, Winter residents; IV, Transient visitors.

In the first class are Included: (a) All those
birds that dwell the year round in the same
locality, oftentimes never venturing far from
their native woods or fields, as the Ruffed
Grouse, Bob White, Owls, etc. (b) Those varie-
ties which have representatives present in a
given locality all the year, even though Individ-
uals move about over a range of several hundred
miles. Such birds are Crows, Jays, Hairy and
Downy Woodpeckers, Nuthatches, Chickadees,
etc. While these birds are more or less given
to a nomadic life, their wanderings are not ex-
tensive enough to be classed as migrations.

In the second class are found all that vast
army which, with the return of spring, make
their way up from their winter quarters south
of us, select home sites and settle down in our
midst to rear their broods during the months of
spring and summer. These again make their
way south In late summer or fall.

The third class Includes those birds that rear
their young and spend the greater part of the
year to the north of us, coming down only when
cold and deep snows render their food supply
uncertain. Certain varieties, like the Sno^vyOw4,
visit the United States only when the winter Is
extremely severe. It seems that under these
conditions hunger drives them where the cold
is less intense. With other varieties, as the Snow-
bunting, Crossbills, Redpoll, Horned Lark, etc.,
the journey is a regular one.

The fourth class comprises those varieties that

36 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

pass by in the spring to nesting grounds some-
where to the northward, returning in the fall to
spend the winter somewhere to the south of us.
This class includes a large number of varieties
which we can study only during the two or
three weeks in the spring and a similar period
in the fall when they are passing by.

This is, at best, but a relative classification,
as it may be readily seen that birds pass from
one class to another according to the locations
where the observations are made. A bird which
in New Jersey is classed as a transient visitor
in Maine may be a summer resident; and a bird
in Maine which is a permanent resident may be
classed in Connecticut as a winter visitor. But
it is well to consider these divisions in order that
one may the better understand the subject of
migration.

Chapter III
SPARROWS AND FINCPIES

"He comes in March, when winds are strong.
And snow returns to hide the earth;
But still he warms his heart with mirth,
And waits for May. He lingers long
While flowers fade; and ever\' day-
Repeats his small, contented lay;
As if to say, we need not fear
The season's change, if love is here.
With 'swect-sweet-sweet-very merry cheer.' "

— Thf Song Sparrow, Henry van Dyke.

This is a very numerous family, widely dis-
tributed over the earth's surface, having among
its members many of our most common birds.
As they are for the most part seed eaters, they
are provided with round, strong bills, admirably
adapted for crushing seedshells. And as they
do not have to travel so far in migration in order
to secure a food supply as the insect eaters, they
are northern dwellers. In fact some of them,
notably the Snowflake and Redpoll, winter
where the weather is extremely cold and the
snows deep.

Song Sparrow. This familiar songster is
among our dearest friends of the bird world.
Not only is he a constant singer during his long
residence with us, but so trustful and fearless is
he that he comes close about our homes, appar-
ently fully aware of our love for him. The mere
fact that he has been named the Song Sparrow

37

38 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

is indicative of the esteem in which his vocal
efforts are held. And it should be remembered
that he belongs to a family in which are many
musicians of high rank. He is one of the heralds
of the spring, his welcome notes being among the
very first to announce the new order of things,
the passing of the season of bare trees and bleak
winds, the advent of soft breezes, warm sun-
shine, leafing trees and budding flowers. He
arrives in the vicinity of New York early in
March and stays till the end of November.
Probably a few winter each year in that vicinity.

This Sparrow is in full song soon after his early
arrival, and there are few more inspiring sights
in all bird life than one of these little brown
minstrels in the midst of a hard snowstorm, or
a cold rain, pouring out his song of faith as
though the sun were shining and his surround-
ings just to his liking. May there not be a valu-
able lesson for mortals in the courage and hardi-
hood of this cheerful little singer?

The Song Sparrow is a plainly dressed but
not unattractive bird. The back is a streaked
grayish brown, with the crown brighter and a
light line through its center, and over each eye.
The under parts are grayish white with spots and
streaks of dark brown centering in a large blotch
on the breast. The dark spot and the peculiar
pumping motion of the tail when in flight are
two good field marks for knowing him. The
colors of this species vary much in different
localities. In Arizona he is very light; in Alaska
quite dark, almost black, with intermediate stages
between. This Sparrow is about six inches long.

SPARROWS AND FINCHES M

They usually build on the ground a nest of
grass, rootlets and strips of bark, lined witli fine
grass and hair. Sometimes the nest Is placed in
a low bush. For several years a pair has nested
in the woodbine on our house, some ten feet
above the ground. The eggs are white with dark
brown spots. Song Sparrows have a wide range
extending over the greater part of the United
States. In the east they nest north of Virginia
and winter from Massachusetts southward.

Chipping Sparrow. Another very common
friend of lawn, garden and field is the Chip-
ping Sparrow. He is a very dapper little fellow,
clad in a neat suit of streaked brown above,
light slate-gray beneath, with a pretty chestnut
cap. He is often called the Hair Bird because
the nest of grass in a bush or low tree is usually
lined with horsehair. Last year a nest was
brought to me made entirely of human hair
which probably had been gathered around the
back door of the farmhouse, a very dainty
receptacle for the four or five tiny blue eggs
which are thickly spotted with brown.

In the woodbine on our house they build every
year, and we find them very attractive and
happy neighbors. Their only song is a rapidly
uttered '' chippy, chippy, chippy,'' running into a
trill, not particularly musical and yet a unique
and altogether pleasing performance. I have
been watching for some time, with much inter-
est, the mother caring for the young brood
which left the nest more than two weeks ago.
Their bodies are now full grown, but they are
still bob-tailed, making rather odd-looking little

40 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

chaps as they follow their very hard-working
mother about. She keeps up a constant quest
for bugs, for the seed crop is not yet ready, and
as soon as one is found she calls the nearest
youngster to her and hurriedly places the bug
in his opened bill. Then at once the search goes
on and the performance is repeated. Truly the
number of bugs these hungry creatures consume
is nothing short of appalling, for the hunt is
kept up from morn till night. This is the smallest
of our common Sparrows. They range in sum-
mer to northern Canada, wintering in the Gulf
States and Mexico.

Vesper Sparrow. This is a bird of the broad,
open fields and roadsides where the thick, tall
grass hides its ground-built nest. It never
comes close about our house as do the Chippy
and Song Sparrow, but it is as much a ground
dweller as the latter, with which it is often con-
fused both in its song and dress. Its clear,
plaintive notes are not, however, so loud as the
Song Sparrow's and are heard more often toward
night when other birds have ceased to sing;
hence its name. But during the day its song is
also heard in the intervals between the bird's
feedings, when it sings for several minutes at a
time, repeating over and over its melodious
strain. It is not easy to distinguish by words
between the two songs, but a little study in the
field where both birds dwell will make the dif-
ference clear to you; and one should associate
the song with the singer to most enjoy it.

The dress of the Vesper is quite distinctive.
The back is dusky brown, rather lighter than

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 41

the Song Sparrow. The light breast and sides
are streaked with dark brown, with no blotch
in the center. The outer tail feathers are white
and show plainly when the bird springs up in
front of you. This is the best held mark by
which to identify the Grass-finch, or Baywinged
Bunting, as it is less commonly called. The
nest is similar to that of his cousin in material
and location. The eggs are light, thickly spotted
with brown. They come in early April, range in
summer as far north as the St. Lawrence River
and winter south of Virginia. It is about the
same size as the Song Sparrow, slightly more
than six inches in length.

Field Sparrow. The name of this sweet
singer seems a misnomer, for I find him as a
dweller in the bush-grown pastures and along
the edge of the woods where the cedars grow,
rather than in cultivated fields. He is shy and
retiring, so that one needs a little patience to
make intimate acquaintance with him. As you
approach him, lured by his attractive strain,
he retreats from bush to bush and will lead you
some distance, striving to keep out of sight.
The best method to adopt is to sit quietly near
his nest and await his approach.

The Field Sparrow is gentle in his ways and
attractive in dress, but as a singer you will most
admire him. The song is clear, plaintive, sweet,
"beginning with three soft, wild whistles and
ending in a series of trills and quavers that
slowly melt away into silence; a serene and rest-
ful strain, as soothing as a hymn." (Blanchari.)

In color this Sparrow shows more of the red-

42 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

dish brown than either of the preceding species.
There is a gray line over the eye, the breast is
light tinged with buff and has no markings.
The long tail is reddish brown, and the bill is
distinctly reddish, an excellent field mark.

Their range corresponds closely with that of
the Vesper. They arrive in early April and stay
till November. The nest of coarse grass, roots,
etc., lined with fine grass and hair, is usually
placed on the ground, sometimes in a low bank.
The eggs, three to five in number, are whitish
with brown spots.

Savanna Sparrow. Another very common
summer resident in the upland fields, where his
nest is well hidden by the thick growth of herds-
grass and redtop, is the Savanna Sparrow. This
is a small sparrow scarcely larger than the
Chippy, but quite unlike in color, song and
habit. When I cross the grass fields in June,
every now and then this little fellow springs up
almost at my feet, flies to the stone wall or a
fence post, and after eyeing me for a moment
slips away into the grass again. He displays a
strange mixture of boldness and shyness.

The colors of the Savanna are brownish
black heavily streaked with brown above; the
breast is light with wedge-shaped marks of dark
brown. The best field marks are the dashes of
yellow over or in front of the eye and on the
bend of the wing. Its colors are admirable for
the protection of so constant a ground dweller.
It is said that in the southern portion of their
summer range they frequent bogs and salt
marshes, usually in colonies, where they are
much shyer than in their northern home.

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 43

The song of the Savanna Is characteristic, so
unlike that of any other Sparrow that once
heard it will not be easily mistaken. It is weak,
rather strident, insect-like, closely resembling
in the opening notes the trill of a grasshopper.
Mr. Chapman describes it as '' tsip-tsip-tsip'
sS-e-e s' r-r-r.'' This song is less musical than
that of any other Sparrow I have heard except
the Chippy, yet it is interesting for its pecu-
liarities. It is heard at all times of day but is
more frequent toward evening.

The nest is made of grass or moss and the
four or five blue eggs are spotted with brown.
The Savanna comes to us in late March or early
April and stays till November, ranging from
New Jersey to Labrador. They winter from
Virginia southward to the Gulf of Mexico.

Grasshopper Sparrow. This Sparrow has a
more southern range than the Savanna, rarely
venturing north of central New England. It is
usually found in old, dry, abandoned fields where
weeds abound. Its ground-dwelling habits and
weak notes render it a very inconspicuous bird,
easily overlooked if one is not aware of its
presence in a certain locality. Its song, as the
name suggests, is strikingly like the chirp of a
grasshopper, to which it is commonly likened.
The notes resemble the trill of the Chippy and.
are suggested by the syllables ' Hut tut,'' zee-e-e-e-e-
e-e-Cy " thin and wiry, audible for a short distance
only, unless one is specially listening for them.^

The dress of the Grasshopper Sparrow is
quite distinctive. The upper parts are reddish
brown streaked with ash-gray. The crown is

44 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

blackish with a buff line through the center.
The line over the eye, lesser wing coverts and
shoulders are yellow. The whitish, unstreaked
breast and the gray outer tail feathers are marks
which easily distinguish it from the Savanna,
which is about the same in length, both being
slightly shorter than the Song Sparrow. Grass-
hopper Sparrows arrive in late April, range as
far north as central New England, and winter
from North Carolina to Cuba. The nest of grass
is on the ground. The four or five eggs are pure
white with spots and flecks of reddish brown.

Sharp-tailed Sparrow. This is a common
summer visitor along the seashore from South
Carolina to New Hampshire. It inhabits tide-
water marshes overgrown with sedge-grass and
weeds, is rather shy and has a poor song. They
usually dwell in colonies. Dr. Dwight describes
its song as "tu-se-e-e-oop,^^ a wheezy and un-
pleasant strain.

The upper parts are olive-gray in color, with
a brownish tinge on the crown, which has a blue-
gray line through the center. The cheeks are
buff and there is a line of the same color over
the eye. The breast and sides are buff streaked
with black. The bend of the wing is yellow.
The feathers of the tail are sharply pointed;
hence the name. It builds among the tussocks
a nest of coarse grass lined with fine grass. The
eggs are whitish, thickly spotted with brown.
These sparrows arrive in their summer range
in early May and stay till September. They are
slightly smaller than the Song Sparrow.

Fox Sparrow. Not far behind the Robin,

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 45

Bluebird and Song Sparrow that first tell us
spring has come, there arrives a bird in a bright
cinnamon brown suit so red that he is called the
Fox Sparrow. This name applies only to his
color, for he possesses none of the sly traits
usually attributed to Reynard. Rather is he a
bold and trustful bird, decidedly social in his
habits, for during migration we almost always
find them in good-sized flocks of Juncos and
White-throated Sparrows. In the open country
I often find them in bush ricks along the old
walls, in alder runs, or along the banks of the
streams. In the city parks I find them in thick
shrubbery under a sheltering hill where the
bleak winds do not reach. Often in the early
spring you will hear a rustling in the dead leaves
so loud that you are almost convinced that a
flock of hens is at work. They scratch with both
feet at once, a most effective process, judging
from the way they make the leaves fly. They are
searching for grubs and insects, and are pretty
constantly at work during the two or three weeks
they are with us.

As singers they rank very high, but it is not
often that we are favored with their full song,
which is reserved until their arrival on the nest-
ing ground far to the north. I have been so for-
tunate as to hear them sing in Prospect Park,
Brooklyn, a rich, deep, well rounded carol, elo-
quent of the joy of life.

When returning in the late fall, they are
silent, except for the call note, a rather low and
lisping *' ^cAz^," which becomes louder and more
emphatic when the bird is alarmed. They linger

46 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

about the parks of New York City until the end
of November, but with the snowfall they move
south to Virginia, or farther. Their summer
range is north of the United States, probably
as far as northern Labrador.

The Fox Sparrow is an inch longer than the
Song Sparrow, and thicker set. Its coat is a
handsome reddish brown above, light gray
heavily streaked with dark brown and black
underneath. They are said to build on the
ground or in low bushes a nest of coarse grass
lined with fine grass, hair, feathers, etc. The
eggs are light blue speckled with brown.

Swamp Sparrow. In late March or early April
there comes to the reed-bordered brook which
winds through the meadow, or to the swampy
pasture land with its thicket of alder and fir, a
Sparrow not often seen about the homes of men,
except during the migration season. It is aptly
named the Swamp Sparrow, for it is a denizen of
those waste places of nature.

If you invade his home, he will fly from bush
to bush, uttering a faint little song which sounds
like ''weet'Weet-weet-t-t-t-f^ running into a trill.
It is not a pretentious song, you will say, and is
rather monotonous, yet it seems quite in keep-
ing with the surroundings.

He is somewhat smaller than the Song Spar-
row, and has a cap of bright chestnut, a black
forehead, and a grayish line over the eye. The
back is striped with various shades of brown and
black, so that the general color is darker than
that of the Song Sparrow; the wings and tail
are reddish brown and the under parts are gray.

SWAMP Sl'AKROW

SPARROWS AND FINCHES if

The nest is built on the ground in some sheltered
nook, perhaps under a low bank, on a tussock
of grass roots, and is sometimes arched over.
They range from Illinois and Pennsylvania
north to Hudson Bay, wintering from Massa-
chusetts southward. In winter I have found them
with large flocks of other Sparrows among the
sedge grass and broom in the sand barrens of
North Carolina.

The White-throated Sparrow. It seems in-
evitable that one who spends much time study-
ing Nature's feathered host should develop
special fondness for some particular varieties.
I confess to great admiration, not to say affec-
tion, for the White-throated Sparrow, and no
summer seems quite complete that has not
yielded me opportunity for close association
with this sweet wilderness singer.

In the early days of April I search eagerly for
them in the city parks, and often I am rewarded
by a snatch of their delicious melody. But it is
only a suggestion of their full, rich song which I
hear in July in the spruce woods of northern
Maine. Here they seem the very embodiment
of earthly bliss and their notes are heard at all
hours of the day and night, for it seems so brim-
ming is their cup of joy that it may not be fully
expressed during the hours of daylight, and they
sing at intervals throughout the night.

As the song of the White-throat easily lends
Itself to verbal rendering, much local sentiment
is expressed In its interpretation. In Massachu-
setts where formerly it was said one must be a
Peabody or a nobody, the bird is believed to

48 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

sing ''Old Sam, Peahody, Peabody, PeahodyP
In Maine where the jackknife is supposed to be
the constant companion of every man, it says
''All-day, whittling, whittling, whittling. '''* In
Canada the song takes on a patriotic rendering,
for every loyal inhabitant is sure it sings, clearly
enough, "Oh sweet, Canada, Canada, Canada P
There are many other interpretations, so that
one may exercise a wide range in his choice of
words to fit the music of the White-throat. But
you may be quite sure, if you are so fortunate as
to hear its full nesting song, you will not be
disappointed.

These Sparrows are among the few fall singers,
so they are doubly welcome when they again
return to us as they journey south. Some-
times on October mornings we find them in the
shrubbery in the backyard of our city home;
and it has happened that in reply to a whistled
imitation of their song they have favored us
with a bit of fascinating melody. They linger
about during the autumn days till winter is
close at hand, then move along southward.
Sometimes a few winter in the vicinity of New
York City and even, it is said, as far north as
Massachusetts, but the great majority winter
south of Virginia.

The usual call note of the White-throat is a
lisping " tchip,^"" but, when alarmed, he utters
a very emphatic " chink,^'' with a metallic ring
that has led to its being called the "quarry"
note. Like Fox Sparrows, they scratch with
both feet at once among the dead leaves, a
rather ludicrous performance. They are about

W I I I I I-.- I 1 I 1\( i,\ 1 1-,|) >1'.\KK< i\\

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 49

seven inches long and rather stout. Their dress
is attractive. On the head are two black and
three white stripes. At the ends of the stripe^
over the eye and at the bend of the wing there
is a dash of yellow. The upper parts are streaked
brownish and there are two distinct white wing
bars, and a square patch of white at the throat
which gives the bird its name. The under parts
are plain gray. They breed in woodland region?
of northern New England, north to Labrador.
The nest of coarse grass, fine roots, strips of bark ,
etc., is on the ground or in low bushes. The four
or five eggs are white, speckled with brown.

White-crowned Sparrow. This is another fine
large Sparrow, one we would much like to have
linger with us through the months of summer;
for not only has he a handsome suit but re-
port has it that in his nesting grounds far to
the north he is a singer of much merit. The
few notes I have heard during migration, in
cadence and intonation are quite like the clos-
ing strain of the White-throat, sweet and clear,
suggestive of a delicious song were the bird in
mood to do his best.

In dress the White-crowned is the most beau-
tiful of all the Sparrows. The head has three
distinct black and four white stripes, and the
throat and breast are a beautiful gray without
the white patch. The back and rump are a rich
grayish brown, the tail darker. There is no
yellow about the eye or on the wing.

They are gentle and refined in manner and
the low call note, chip^ is rather lisping and good-
natured when the bird is not alarmed. They

50 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

appear during late April or early May, and stay
about for a few days in much the same localities
frequented by the Fox Sparrows and White-
throats, then leisurely journey along, never
seeming to be in a hurry. They do not nest in
the eastern United States, except perhaps in a
few cases on the higher mountains, but journey
to Labrador and northern Canada. We see
them again in October for two or three weeks,
then on they pass to winter in the South.

Tree Sparrow. The Sparrows we have
studied thus far are summer visitors, birds that
help to make joyous the season of warm sun-
shine and flowers. Now we are to consider
briefly a winter visitor whose coming cheers our
cold winter season, when even the glimpse of a
feathered friend is a rare but welcome sight.
This is the Tree Sparrow, or Winter Chippy as
he is called because he visits us during the season
of frost and snow. Like his namesake of the
summer, he wears a pretty chestnut cap, but he
is considerably larger, about the size of the
Song Sparrow. He does not have the neat, trim
look of the Chippy, but is rather rough and
fluffy in appearance, perhaps because he wears
a much warmer suit to protect him from the
chill winds and terrible cold of the long nights.
He is a very hardy little fellow, else he would
perish from such exposure.

The back of this Sparrow is brown with dark
streaks and the dark wings have two distinct
white wing-bars. The cheeks and throat are
gray. Perhaps the best field mark is the dark
spot in the center of the ashy-gray breast.

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 51

When the sun shines they will be found about
the old fields and pastures where last year's
stalks of goldenrod, wild aster and various weeds
show above the snow. Here they busily feed,
two or three clinging to the same stalk in the
most amiable and cheerful manner, uttering
little notes of conversation, not in the least
alarmed at your presence. Feeding over, away
they fly to a near-by tree, and you may be so
fortunate as to hear their sprightly song ^Uoo-
la-it, too-la-it/' gentle and cheerful, telling of
contented and happy lives. Then away they
go to the thicket where they spend the night,
cozily tucked away in the thick top of friendly
spruce or fir.

In late autumn when the rear guard of the
summer army is disappearing beyond the hori-
zon, the Tree Sparrows come down to us from
their breeding range in far-away Labrador; they
stay with us during the months of snow and
disappear to the northward just as the van-
guard of the migrant army appears from the
South. How grateful we should be that we are
never without birds to cheer and interest us!

Purple Finch. Close behind Robin, Blue-
bird and Song Sparrow, those outposts of the
bird army that regularly invades the North with
the return of spring, come a large number of
hardy migrants. Some of these winter so far
north that they may be classed among our per-
manent residents, for there is no time of year
when representatives of their species are not
found in the Northern States. Prominent among
them is the Purple Finch, a most attractive bird

52 BIRDS OF FIELD, FO REST AND PARK

in plumage and song, one whose acquaintance
should be made as early as possible. They
usually travel in small bands, often in the com-
pany of Goldfinches and Sparrows. Their pres-
ence in flight is made know^n to you by a queer
little squeak, low and sibilant, a sound that has
been said to suggest that their wing-joints need
oiling.

In April, Purple Finches are found in low bush
ricks, by the walls, along the brookside and
in the orchard, where I fear they sometimes
pluck the swelling fruit buds. Let us hope that
if this knowledge comes to the ear of the farmer,
he will kindly accept in payment their happy
presence and delightful warble; for it would
seem a great pity for him to intercept the
career of such brilliant members of the bird
choir.

As a singer this bird is placed near the head
of the Sparrow-Finch family, no mean honor.
In fact Mr. Matthews says he has no equal when
his method, which is that of a warbler, is con-
sidered. His strain is much more pretentious
than that of the warbling Vireo. The song is
full, rich, varied and prolonged. When I find
them nesting in the north woods in midsummer
they often add two or three notes I do not hear
in the open country to the south. Would it not
be very interesting to know the cause of this.f*
We first hear his song with the approach of the
mating season, in late April, and he is rather
a steady performer throughout the summer.
When I find Purple Finches in the South in
winter, stuffing themselves with poke berries,

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 53

they are silent, with the exception of now and
then a call note.

Purple Finches seem to have a wide range in
nesting sites. In a thick-topped maple in a
neighbor's dooryard they have nested for many
years. They also nest in the spruces and firs
of the northern wilderness, and sometimes in
evergreens standing alone in the pasture. The
nest is usually a dozen feet or more from the
ground. The male is very attentive to his mate,
feeding her as she sits on the eggs, sometimes
even taking her place for a time. When the
young are reared they roam the country in
flocks, wintering from the Northern States
southward to the Gulf. Their winter range
changes somewhat according to the severity of
the weather.

The name Purple Finch is a misnomer, for
there is not a purple feather on him. The males
two years old and over are strawberry red on
the head, neck, throat, breast and back, shad-
ing into brown on the wings, tail and rump.
The young males and females are streaked
brown, much like Sparrows, but may be dis-
tinguished by the rounded bill, the bristle-like
feathers around the nostrils and the forked tail.
They are the length of the Song Sparrow, but
rather slender in appearance.

Junco. Another bird that is both a migrant
and permanent resident in the Northern States
is the Junco or Slate-colored Snow-bird. They
are always in flocks except during the nesting
season, for they are the most social as they are
the most common winter birds. Yet many of

54 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

them move southward in the late fall and I find
them very numerous in the pine lands of the
Carolinas.

Juncos are confiding and trustful in manner,
fearlessly coming to the lawn, even to the
veranda, if perchance you invite them with
crumbs from your table. They are very trim
in their neat suits of slate color above and on the
throat, with a light breast which gives the
appearance of a low-cut white vest. The female
has a wash of brown on the upper parts; other-
wise her dress is the same. The bill is flesh
color, looking much like a wooden peg stuck
into the round head.

When you come upon a flock of Juncos,
sometimes before you are aware of their pres-
ence, you will be greeted by a most emphatic
" smack smack " which tells plainly of their irrita-
tion at being disturbed. This ill humor, how-
ever, soon passes and you will hear a rapidly
uttered *' chew chew chew^"^ a pleasing sound ex-
pressive of content. As the mating season comes
on, often just as they are leaving for the north-
ern nesting grounds, you may hear a dainty trill,
low, clear and quite musical. Their summer
range is from the Northern States northward.

I once found in a northern forest a Junco's
nest built of fine black rootlets, lined with snow-
white hair, plucked, I thought, from a deer's
tail. This made a dainty place for the five
little white, brown-speckled eggs. Mr. Bur-
roughs once showed me where a pair of Juncos
had built in the side of a haymow in an old
barn, less than ten feet from the chair where he

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 55

sat at his literary labors several hours a day.
It was interesting to note that although the
nest was built entirely of dead grass, the material
was gathered from the roadsides rather than
from the abundance of the haymow.

Chewink. A bird you will often find in early
April scratching in the dry leaves in the parks
is the Chewink, or Towhee, as he is called.
These names almost exactly represent his call
notes as he flies up to a low bush, ^' chewi7ik^
chewink, towhee, towhee,''^ notes rather metallic in
tone but not at all unpleasant. As he spends
most of his time on the ground, he is also called
the Ground Robin. He is usually found in second
growth tracts and bush-grown pastures, but
always, as I have observed, near the ground.
The Chewink is a bird of good temper, as his
notes indicate, vivacious and rather winsome
in his ways. He is not a pretentious singer, but
during the season of mating and nesting the
male sings a strain somewhat limited in range
but clear and pleasing, which has been written
thus: '' Chuck-burr, pill-a-will-a-will-a-will.'*^

In dress the Chewink is a distinguished bird.
His black upper parts, throat and breast, bright
chestnut-red sides, white belly, and dashes of
white here and there form an unusual combina-
tion of colors which renders him quite con-
spicuous in the leafless woods of April. With
the female the black is replaced with lightish
brown, the chestnut-red is much lighter and the
tail umber. The iris of the eye is red.

The nest of the Chewink, on the ground or
near it, is of dry leaves, grass and plant fibre,

56 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

lined with finer grass. The eggs, four or five in
number, are white, evenly speckled with fine
brown spots. They range in summer as far
north as Maine and the Province of Ontario and
winter from Virginia south.

American Goldfinch. This little courtier in
black and gold is a very attractive member of
the bird chorus both in dress and song. Tiny
sprite that he is, he has the hardihood to brave
the rigors of our northern climate, for I some-
times find him in central Maine in the coldest
winter weather. At that time of year he has
doffed his gay clothes and put on a sober suit of
olive-brown much like that worn by his mate
throughout the year. But when the mating
season approaches again he changes for his
bright colors which he wears till the young are
reared.

This is a bird of many names, of which Wild
Canary, Yellowbird and Thistlebird are the
most common, the last because in the fall the
thistle is his favorite food. In summer he is a
frequent visitor to the garden because of his
great liking for grubs found on the beets. Often
I see him perched on the bean-poles proclaiming
his happiness with a swinging " che-e-p " followed
by his rambling, jovial song so full of glee and
exuberance that one may easily believe him the
happiest creature in existence. Then as he takes
wing in long gallops, you will hear ^' per-chick-
o-ree, per-chick-o-ree^^ long after he has disap-
peared from sight.

The Goldfinch is, all in all, in disposition,
dress and song, one of our most attractive bird

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 57

friends. His whole bearing is refined and gentle.
The male in summer dress wears a black cap
and wings, otherwise he is bright yellow except
for a dash of white on the wings and tail. In
winter the yellow is replaced by olive-gray
similar to the all-the-year dress of the female.
The summer range extends from the Carolinas
to Labrador. They roam in winter from the
Northern States to the Gulf. They build a very
artistic nest of fine grasses, bits of bark, hair
and mosses, lined with thistledown, in bushes
and trees at some distance from the ground.
The tiny eggs are pale blue. They nest later
than most birds, often not until summer is well
advanced.

Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Among the Finches
are several birds with bills so large that they
have been aptly named Grosbeaks, that is, great-
bills. Of these, the most common summer visitor
as well as the most brilliant in dress and song is
the Rose-breasted Grosbeak, named from the
triangular patch of beautiful rose-red on his
breast.

I find them in the shrubbery of the less fre-
quented parks of New York City in mid-May,
and when I reach Maine, in late June, they are
nesting in second-growth woods and occasion-
ally in the orchard. One can but feel that this
beautiful bird should be more common, and
perhaps he would be but for the pursuit of the
feather hunters who have found it profitable to
slay him because some ladies believed his poor
body made a pretty ornament for their hats.
Happily most of the States have passed laws

58 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

forbidding the killing of our song birds; and
I am greatly pleased to note that where in my
boyhood I never saw this bird in our valley, now
he is a common summer resident. He is a special
friend to the farmer, as a favorite food with
him is the potato beetle.

It is not easy to say which is more pleasing,
his dress or his song. His notes have often been
compared to those of the Robin, but the sim-
ilarity is but superficial. The Grosbeak's song
is much finer, pure and clear, a gladsome, ring-
ing melody. Gibson spoke of it as "suffused
with color like a luscious tropical fruit rendered
into sound. " To me it is one of the most appeal-
ing of the woodland songs, one that always ar-
rests my steps instantly when the first notes
reach my ears.

The dress of the male is black above, with
rump, outer tail quills and two spots on the wing,
white. The breast and under wing coverts are
rose-red, the bill white. When in flight the white
wings marks are very conspicuous. The female
is so unlike in color as to be quite unrecog-
nizable, except for her form and size. Her
general color is sparrow-like brown with sulphur
yellow under the wings. She has no rose- red
on the breast and her bill is brown.

They nest from Virginia to Maine and winter
in Central and South America. The nest, loosely
made of twigs, rootlets and plant fibre, is placed
in bushes or trees from five to twenty feet above
the ground. The light green eggs are marked
with brown. This Grosbeak is more than eight
inches long and rather thick-set.

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 59

Pine Grosbeak. Among the visitors that come
down from the frozen north during the winter
season is a large and beautiful bird, the Pine
Grosbeak, or Pine Bullfinch, as it is sometimes
called. On these excursions they are rather shy
and keep closely to cover, but when found in
summer in the coniferous forests of the north,
they are fearless and friendly. I have stood
where I could almost reach them without dis-
turbing them in the least, as they fed on spruce
cones, the handsome plumage of the male
making a striking picture seen against the back-
ground of deep green. They also feed upon pine
cones. They are large birds, almost as long as
the Robin and much stouter. The short, thick
bill has a slight hook at the end, a useful imple-
ment for cone-tearing.

The color of the male is olive-gray with rich
Indian-red on the head and neck, reaching well
down upon the body. The wings and tail are
marked with streaks of black, w^hite and slate.
The females and young males have, in general,
yellowish green where the male is red. The
under parts are gray with a tinge of yellow
under the tail. In winter they range irregularly
in flocks through the Northern States, rarely
reaching the vicinity of New York City. On
these wanderings they feed upon berries of the
sumac and mountain ash. They nest in the far
north in coniferous trees. They are said to have
a delightful song which I have not had the good
fortune to hear, for I have found them strangely
silent.

Another beautiful bird of this family is the

60 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Blue Grosbeak which ranges over the Southern
States, rarely venturing north of Virginia. This
is also a good singer. The Evening Grosbeak is
an inhabitant of the northern central portion of
Canada. Yellow and black are the prevailing
colors in their plumage. As singers they do not
rank high. Sometimes they make very unex-
pected excursions to the Atlantic States in mid-
winter or early spring, but only at rare intervals.
One would be much favored by fortune were he
to meet a flock of these very rare visitors.

Indigo Bunting. This little Finch is one of
the birds that to know is to love, for it is both
beautiful in dress and elegant in manner. As so
often happens, the species derives its name from
the color of the male, and is just what you
would suggest because of the rich blue of his
coat. Except for the black wings which are
margined with blue, his suit is deep blue, lus-
trous and luminous when seen in the sunshine.
But you would never recognize his little mate, so
wholly different is her dress, a grayish-brown,
sparrow-like suit with just a faint tinge of his
dominant color.

Like Sparrows, Indigo Buntings feed largely
on the seeds of plants and grains. When they
arrive in early May they are in song and con-
tinue to sing throughout the summer, even dur-
ing the heat of noon when most birds are silent.
The song is a happy, tinkling little warble which
lessens toward the end as though the singer
were wearied by the effort. It seems devoid of
sentiment and does not strike one as being
particularly melodious.

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 61

These arc birds of the roadside and pasture,
common in summer throughout the Eastern
States. I have found them much more numerous
in the valleys of the Willowemoc and Neversink
in the Catskills than in Maine. They winter in
Central America. The nest of dead leaves, grass
and plant fibre is placed in the fork of a bush or
limb of a tree near the ground. The eggs are
bluish white. In size the Indigo Bunting is a
trifle smaller than the Song Sparrow.

"Their coats are dappled white and brown
Like fields in winter weather,
But on the azure sky they float
Like snowflakes knit together.'*

Thus sang Mr. Burroughs of the Snow Bunt-
ing or Snowflake, as it is so fittingly named, a
visitor that is always associated with snow-
drifts and winter weather. Down out of the
cheerless sky they swing, lighting in the weed
patches that still show above the drifts where
they feed as merrily as though this were their
choice of temperature. In fact one easily believes
they have a real aversion to warmth, for no
sooner is the breath of spring felt than away they
go to their summer haunts in the far north,
well up in the Arctic regions where they nest on
the ground.

This is distinctly a bird of the open country
and rarely does one see them in a tree except
at night or ^during a severe storm, when they
seek shelter in the woods. They are ground
dwellers, where they are well protected by their
coloring. As they run about on the snow some

62 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

seem quite dark, others almost white, so much
does their appearance change in the varying
conditions of Hght. When in flight they are
almost invisible against the sunlit sky. They
are the lightest colored of the Sparrow family.
The summer plumage, which we do not see, is
even lighter than the winter suits. Then they
are mostly white except for the black wings,
tail and a band across the back. The winter
plumage show^s considerable brown. The bill and
feet are black.

Their notes, heard often in flight, are soft,
rippling, and quite pleasant to hear when bird
song is so rare. They appear in late fall, always
in flocks, journeying sometimes as far south as
New York City.

Pine Siskin. Another winter visitor so er-
ratic in its wanderings that you are never sure
of finding him tw^o seasons in the same locality,
is the Pine Siskin, or Pine Finch. I often see
them in flocks in Prospect Park during the late
fall. In notes, size, color and manner, they
closely resemble their cousins the Goldfinches.
When I first made their acquaintance in the
wilderness of northern Maine several years ago,
I was quite puzzled for some time. But by
careful investigation I found that while their
general coloring is much like the winter dress
of the Goldfinch, on the wings and tail there is a
dash of yellow; and while their call notes are
similar, the Siskin has an interrogative wee, and
several harsh notes that the Goldfinch does not
have. They build in evergreen trees in the
woods, a nest of moss and fine twigs far above

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 65

the ground. They range In summer from the
extreme north of the United States northward.
In the winter they journey irregularly southward
to the Southern States.

Redpoll. This cheery little winter visitor
comes to us in flocks soon after the cold weather
sets in. As with the Siskins, you are never sure
of finding them in the same locality for two
seasons. They have no fixed winter habitat, but
like so many of the seed-eaters, are habitual
wanderers. They are rather shy little chaps, but
sometimes will visit your garden in search of
food. I sometimes find them in Prospect Park
in November and December. They fly high in
large flocks, and their presence is first known to
you by a faint chip^ chip, which grows louder
as they come whirling down out of the sky,
moving in perfect harmony. Thoreau's descrip-
tion of them is so beautiful it is well worth
quoting: "Erelong amid the cold and powdery
snow, as it were a fruit of the season, will come
twittering a flock of delicate, crimson-tinged
birds, lesser Redpolls to sport and feed on the
buds just ripe for them on the sunny side of the
woods, shaking down the powdery snow there
in their cheerful feeding, as if it were high mid-
summer to them." With the warm spring rays
they, too, set out for the north, but just as they
leave sometimes we hear a snatch of song like
that of a Canary, a sweet and melodious carol.

The male wears a bright red cap. His back is
dark brown streaked with gray. The throat is
black, the rumip and breast pink. The female
has the same general coloring, without the pink.

64 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

These birds are about five and one-half inches in
length.

Crossbill. When you first see the Crossbill
you are quite sure he is deformed, so peculiar is
the appearance of the bill. But when you see the
bird feeding upon the cones of spruce, pine or
hemlock, the seeds of which constitute their
food, you are quite convinced that this bill is
the most perfect instrument that could be de-
vised for the use to which they put it. No other
distinguishing mark is needed than the warped
bill, the mandibles of which cross when closed.

Red-winged Crossbill. This is a permanent
resident in the most Northern States, a winter
visitor farther south, but very erratic in his
wanderings. When feeding, they climb about
like little parrots, which they resemble some-
what in form, color and movements. They are
usually in flocks, except when nesting, and when
in flight utter a sharp cheeping note. They
nest early and consequently their young are
full grown when other birds are still incubat-
ing. Last year, in August, I saw them in large
flocks, young and old, among the evergreens at
Pemaquid, on the coast of Maine. They were
singing a pleasing warble slightly suggestive of
the Pilrple Finch, but a much less meritorious
performance.

The general color of the male is Indian-red,
lighter on the rump. The wings and tail are
brownish. The female has dull olive-green
where the male is red, with darker shades on
the head and neck. The under parts are light.
They breed from the Northern States north-

SPARROWS AND FINCHES 65

ward, sometimes on mountains farther south.
The nest of twigs and moss is usually placed in
an evergreen tree at considerable distance from
the ground. They are slightly more than six
inches in length.

Cardinal. The cardinal, or Virginia Red Bird,
is a great favorite throughout his habitat; and
ever since making his acquaintance I have felt
that I should much enjoy him as a neighbor.
Only now^ and then do they stray as far north
as New England and are not common birds
about New York, although at times they nest
in the parks there. From northern New Jersey
southward, they are permanent residents whose
presence makes glad the heart of every bird-
lover. It is not easy to imagine a person so
blind to Nature's choice gifts in color of plumage
and gentle manner that he would not become
at once an ardent admirer and a consistent
defender of this beautiful bird. In James Lane
Allen's story, "The Kentucky Cardinal," is
found a description so pathetic and altogether
delightful that it has won many friends for this
brilliant creature that has too often fallen a
victim to its own beauty. The feather hunter
has no sentiment.

The plumage of the male Cardinal is a rich
red color with black at the throat and about the
base of the red bill. The wings are washed with
gray, the feet are brown, and there is a promi-
nent crest. The female has a much duller red
and there is brown in her dress, but she is easily
recognizedas the mate of the '' Red Bird." Both
birds are singers and their vocal efforts are

66 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

greatly admired. The notes of the male are a
full loud whistle, which has been indicated by
the syllables '^ cheo-cheo-chehoo-cheo,^' The song
of the female is softer and quite different, yet
possessing the same quality. The call note of
both is a sharp 'Hsip.'*^ Years ago, one April
day after a late snowfall in a Virginia town, I
heard the Red Bird singing from a treetop, the
branches of which w^ere heavy with snow. The
bright color of the bird in contrast to the pure
white, together with his glad song, made an
impression I have never forgotten.

The Cardinal is rather a bird of the hedge-
rows, garden and tangles of wild vines than of
the woods. He moves about somewhat clumsily,
with tail held high, showing little evidence of
the irritation that arises from a bad temper,
such as is displayed by many birds, especially the
House Wren. The bulky nest of leaves, bark,
grass, etc., is placed in a bush or low tree. The
light gray eggs are marked with brown spots.
The male Cardinal is a model husband and
father, bestowing upon his family the most
solicitous and constant care. Altogether he is
one of the most lovable of our feathered
creatures. They are rather more than eight
inches in length.

Chapter IV
FLYCATCHERS

'I quit the search, and sat me down
Beside the brook irresolute,
And watched a little bird in suit
Of sober olive, soft and brown.

*Dear bird,' I said, 'what is thy name?*
And thrice the mournful answer came,
So faint and far, and yet so near, —
Te-wee! pe-wee! pe-wee!' "

— The Pewee, Trowbridge.

The Flycatcher family receives its name
from the common habit among its members of
catching various insects upon which they feed
exclusively. As their food supply is cut off by
cold weather, except the Phoebe, they winter
below the frost belt and are rather late arrivals.
There are some thirty varieties throughout the
United States, seven or eight of which are com-
mon in the Eastern States. They bear strong
family resemblance in color and form, as well
as in feeding habits. They are not good singers,
only one variety, the Wood Pewee, having notes
that could be classed as musical.

Phoebe. This bird has another common
name, Pewee, or Bridge Pewee, from its liking of
an old bridge as a nesting place. Phoebe is a
good example of the influence of amiable ways
in making friends; although neither specially

07

68 BIRDS OP FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

attractive as a singer nor brilliant in dress, yet
they are always welcome as neighbors and we
are happier for their presence about the old
bridge, the farmyard and the orchard. Their
plaintive notes, " phoebe, phoebe,'^ are rather
monotonous, yet they are not unmusical and are
quite pleasing in early spring when songsters
are all too few.

Phoebe is the first of the Flycatchers to arrive,
since they winter farther north than any other
member of the family. Last year at the end of
December I found them in the pinelands of
North Carolina, mostly solitary, but one pair
in the shelter of a sunlit roof of a deserted house
were in song, uttering loud notes that were quite
strange to my ears although this bird has been
familiar to me in its nesting range from boyhood.
It is said the Phoebe mates for life. If this be
true it is hard to understand why they do not
make their migratory journeys together; or how
he finds his mate, since the males arrive a week
or two ahead of the females. They become
strongly attached to a desirable building site re-
turning year after year.

This year, when our country home was opened
in late May, a Phoebe's nest was found on a
window cap near the kitchen door under the
roof of the veranda. It was well built of mud,
moss and grass, lined with bits of wool and
feathers. Although so near the door where there
was much passing, Phoebe was not afraid, but
hatched and reared a brood of five youngsters
who were guided to the orchard as soon as they
could fly. There they are learning bird ways,

FLYCATCHERS 69

and we still hear, in late July, her gentle " phcebe,'^
which somehow is always strongly suggestive
to me of the springtime.

A favorite nesting place is a barn cellar or
under a bridge. The old covered structure, now
fast disappearing, was an ideal place, but the
girders of the modern structure of steel seem to
answer every purpose; so perhaps Phoebe is not
such a creature of sentiment after all. Formerly
caves and sheltering banks were their nest
sites, but they have quickly taken advantage
of the better locations about the homes of man.

Phoebe is very plainly dressed. The upper
parts are brownish olive; the wings, tail and
crown darker. Some feathers of the tail are
edged with white, and underneath the feathers
are dingy white with a yellowish tinge. The
bill is straight and black. A good field mark is
the constant lifting of the tail when the bird
is perched. This Flycatcher is about an inch
shorter than the Kingbird. They breed from
South Carolina to Newfoundland, wintering
from North Carolina southward

Kingbird. A very familiar Flycatcher, so
common that he is known to everybody who
gives the slightest attention to the birds, is the
Kingbird, or Tyrant Flycatcher, so called from
a popular notion that he is something of a bully
and tyrant. After close study of his habits for
many years, I have concluded that his reputa-
tion is well founded. His bristling nature mani-
fests itself in his attitude toward small defence-
less birds as toward the larger marauders who
may be a menace to his household. He is a very

70 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

jealous guardian of the neighborhood and, when
Crow or Hawk ventures near, this vaHant little
warrior fearlessly plunges at the enemy, fiercely
striking him on the back again and again, and
sometimes, it seems, clinging fast with feet and
bill to the luckless culprit who cries with pain.
No amount of turning or twisting will shake
him off until he is ready to quit. But should
the Crow or Hawk light, then the situation is
changed at once and Mr. Kingbird keeps well
out of range of the stout bill. His purpose
accomplished, back he comes with a rattling
cry of victory and settles on some conspicuous
perch, on the lookout for passing insects. When
one is sighted, and his keen eyes see it far off,
out he swings, snaps up with a click of his bill
the defenceless creature, and rattles back to his
perch to repeat the performance over and over.

With all his show of bravery, however, I fear
the Kingbird at heart is an arrant coward, for
he always attacks in the rear, and the moment
his victim, however small, turns on him, he
retreats precipitately. But they are lively and
interesting neighbors, welcome to the farmer
because of their valiant show against Hawks.

The Kingbird is common about the farm and
orchard and in general in the open country
wherever there are trees. I always find them
nesting in elms that hang well out over the
stream, sometimes only a few feet above the
water. The circular nest is made of sticks,
strings, wool, grass, moss, etc., lined with
feathers and plant down. The four or five white
eggs are thickly spotted with sepia brown.

Ki.\(.i;iKi>

FLYCATCHERS 71

They are rather soHtary in their habits at all
seasons of the year. With all his belligerent
nature toward other birds he is a model husband,
for he treats his mate with great tenderness and
affection. He relieves her at intervals during
the period of incubation, and assists her in the
care of the fledglings. Perhaps it is because of
his great love for his family that he guards them
so jealously.

The Kingbird is the best dressed of the Fly-
catchers, a family wearing only plain colors.
The upper parts are ashy-gray with the head
black. The under parts are white, grayish on
the breast, and the tail feathers are tipped with
white. The male has an orange patch on the
crown that is seen only when the crest is raised.
The notes of the Kingbird are harsh and un-
musical. Their strident rattles are heard at all
hours of the day during their residence. They
arrive in late April or early May, summer
throughout the Eastern States and New Bruns-
wick, and winter in Central and South America.
They are nearly nine inches in length.

Chebec. The smallest of the Flycatchers as
well as the most numerous, is the Chebec, or
Least Flycatcher, as he is sometimes called.
His shrill metallic cry, '^chebec, chebec,'^^ is rather
disagreeable, and when heard constantly becomes
the most wearisome cry of the summer so-
journers. They live in alder bushes along the
bank of the river, in the orchard and in the
edge of second-growth lots that border pastures.
Perched on some good lookout, this little fellow,
with jerk of head and tail, repeats his shrill cry,

72 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

then darts out for passing fly which his keen eye
sees at some distance. Then back he flits and
resumes his perch with a low chuckle of satisfac-
tion and takes up the same tiresome '^ chebeCy
chehecT He is about the only bird I dislike for a
summer neighbor. We are very grateful that the
English Sparrow has not become numerous in
our neighborhood.

Chebec excels as a builder. In the fork of an
apple-tree limb, back of our house, he con-
structs a dainty cup of rootlets and strips of
bark, lining it with hair and plant down. The
eggs are plain white.

The dress of this little Flycatcher is rather
pretty. The back is olive-green, the breast
gray, and the under parts whitish. The head is
darker and the wings have two distinct white
bars. They nest from Pennsylvania to Quebec
and winter in the tropics, arriving in early May.
This is a very small bird, about five inches in
length.

Wood Pewee. Whenever, in summer, I plunge
into the second growth woods just beyond
the cove, I am greeted by a plaintive little
song that contains more sentiment, more real
pathos than any other melody of the bird
chorus. Slow and pensive it sounds, morning,
noon and night, from early May to the end of
August, ''pe-a-wee, pe-a-wee,''^ a sweet, though
rather melancholy, strain. 'Tis the song of the
Wood Pewee, the best singer of the Flycatcher
family. It is a wandering sound not easily
located, and often one will search long before
finding the singer. This song has pleased many

FLYCATCHERS 75

ears and inspired many a tribute in prose and
verse. Mr. Matthews says of it: "It is to be
classed along with Stephen Foster's *01d Folks
at Home,' or the famous Irish melody, *The
Last Rose of Summer.'"

This sweet singer is the plainest of birds in
dress. The male is dark olive-brown with a
darker shade on the head and tail and there are
two faint wing bars of white. The white under
parts are washed with olive-gray on the throat
and breast. The dress of the female is similar,
but the under parts are tinged with yellow.

Like other members of the family, the Wood
Pewee is an excellent builder. Sometimes the
colors of the nest blend so perfectly with the
moss and lichens of the tree in which it is placed
as to render it practically invisible. One summer
I moored my boat many times directly under a
Wood Pewee's nest so skillfully hidden in a
hollow of an old yellow birch that I did not
discover it until the young had flown and the
autumn winds were tearing it to pieces; and it
was not more than two feet above my head.
It was rather a shallow nest, built of fine grass,
moss and rootlets, skillfully covered with pale
green lichens the exact color of the bark of the
old tree. The eggs are white with brown mark-
ings, some of them quite indistinct.

This bird ranges in summer from Florida to
Newfoundland and winters in Central America.
They are among the last of the Flycatchers to
arrive, usually appearing about New York in
early May. They are six and one-half inches in
length and the wings are longer than the tail.

74 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Crested Flycatcher. Yesterday I climbed
Hedgehog Hill for the first time in many years,
following the old cow-paths so often trod in my
boyhood. This w^as our favorite berrying ground
whither we went many times each summer to
gather pailfuls of the luscious blueberries and
raspberries which grew on the southern and
western slopes. But now the old pasture is
overgrown with sapling pine; and the crest of
.the hill, then heavily forested, is stripped bare,
the white ledges gleaming under the summer
sun. As I sat looking out over the broad valley
of the Androscoggin there came to my ears a
shrill note of interrogation, " pee-ups, pee-ups,^^
which I instantly recognized, so characteristic
is it, although I had not heard it for many
months, as the call note of the Crested Fly-
catcher. Very soon I located him on the top-
most limb of a dead white birch, his prominent
crest plainly seen with the naked eye. Through
the glasses I got his colors, greenish-olive above
with brown washings on the head, chestnut on
the tail, and two distinct wing bars; the under
parts are sulphur-yellow, except the throat and
breast which are ashy-gray. This, our largest
Flycatcher, is more than nine inches long. It
is a wood-living bird, seldom seen about farms.
He, too, is a tyrant, given to bullying all comers
in his vicinity, as one would judge from the
bristling appearance of his crest when he sights
you. It is said a pair of them will often drive a
Downy or Hairy Woodpecker from the cozy
retreat which has been laboriously excavated as
a home for the brood, and settle down for the

FLYCATCHERS 75

season with as much complacency as though
they were owners of the premises.

The Crested Flycatcher has the curious habit
of hanging a snake skin or something resembling
it outside the nest, probably to scare away all
intruders. This habit has led to much specu-
lating among ornithologists as to its origin and
purpose. Mr. Burroughs says he has found
onion peel and shad scales in the nest, perhaps
the best substitute for the snake skin they did
not find. They range from Florida to Canada
in summer, and winter south of Florida. They
arrive about New York in the early part of
May.

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher. A little Fly-
catcher I often see in Forest Park, New York
City, during the migration in mid-May, is the
Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, a name by which
you will quickly know him, for he is more dis-
tinctly yellow underneath than any other small
variety of this family. He stays for a short time
only, then moves along to his summer home
in the evergreen forests of northern Maine and
Canada. When seen in migration they are
silent but in their nesting haunts they sing a
song that has been compared to the House
Wren's deeper notes. It also has a softly
whistled, plaintive call note, '' chu-e-e-p^^ with
a rising inflection. It builds on the ground in
deep forests a nest of moss lined with fine root-
lets. The four or five eggs are creamy white,
spotted with brown. It is a trifle longer than
Chebec. The color above is the regulation
olive-green, with wings and tail brownish. The

76 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

under parts are sulphur-yellow, somewhat
washed on the sides with olive-green. Their
stay is short, scarcely more than three months,
and the end of August sees them journeying
southward again.

Olive-sided Flycatcher. Another Flycatcher
that is known only as a transient visitor in
the Middle States, but as a summer resident
in Massachusetts and other Northern States,
is the Olive-sided Flycatcher. These birds
arrive in the vicinity of New York City toward
the end of May, and are seen on some tall tree,
on the lookout, as ever, for passing insects.
They pass along quickly to the nesting ground
among the dark forests of the North where they
arrive soon after June i. These Flycatchers
construct in a tall evergreen tree a beautiful
nest of moss lined with fine rootlets and covered
with green lichens, so closely resembling a knot
that from the ground it is almost impossible to
distinguish it. The eggs vary in number from
two to four and are very beautiful, a creamy
white spotted with brown and purple.

The notes of the Olive-sided are plaintive,
"^w pu, pu pu, pu pip, " oft repeated as they sit
on some lofty lookout which commands a good
view of the immediate landscape. They appear
like the Kingbird in temper, jealously darting
at any bird, large or small, that comes within
the limits of their domains. The plumage is
olive-brown above, with clove-brown on the
wings and tail; the throat, middle of belly and
line in center of breast are whitish. There is a
tuft of yellowish-white feathers on either flank,

(.>Li\ i:-sii)i-:i) FLYCAre iii;i<

FLYCATCHERS 77

a very good field mark. The upper mandible of
the bill is black, the lower yellow. This bird is
about seven and one-half inches in length.

When in the West Branch country this year,
one day I heard the loud '' pu-pip, pu-pip^' of
this Flycatcher from the stump lot just behind
my cabin. On going out, I saw a parent bird
with four full-grown young in the top of a dead
tree, evidently on the lookout for food. Very
soon the old bird disappeared from the field of
my glasses, but quickly returned with an enor-
mous dragon-fly which was passed over without
ceremony to the gaping bill of a hungry young-
ster. For a moment he seemed not to know
what to do, but soon rapped its head sharply
on the limb, gradually gathered in the stiff
wings and, quicker than I can tell, swallowed it
with a gulp. It seemed that this would be
rather a bristly morsel, but, no doubt, they well
know their capabilities in that direction. I find
this the most numerous Flycatcher in the
deeper w^oods of Maine.

Alder Flycatcher. (Also known as Traill's
Flycatcher.) This little bird has its summer
home in the ricks and tangles of alders that
grow along the brooks and small rivers, and in
pasture swamps in New England and New
Brunswick. It also ranges over the West, even
to Alaska.

After the end of May you will find him perched
on the top of a low alder bush where he keeps a
close watch for his day's rations, which he
gathers up with all the vigor characteristic of
his family. The notes oftenest heard are a rasp-

78 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

ing ^^ eaze-zve-Mp/'and a rather sharp ''pep, pep^'
when you approach.

This is rather a brownish Flycatcher. The
upper parts are olive-brown with ashy-gray on
the wing coverts; the under parts are white with
grayish on the breast and yellowish on the
belly; the throat is white. The upper mandible
is white; lower, whitish. The nest placed in a
low bush, two or three feet above the ground,
is made of grass and plant fibre, lined with fine
grasses and plant down. The eggs are creamy
white with brown markings. It is about the
size of the Song Sparrow.

Chapter V
SWALLOWS

"And the gossip of swallows through all the sky."

— Bryant.

So sociable in their habits and so fearless and
friendly toward man are the Swallows, they are
among our best loved birds. The members of no
other family come quite so close about us, for
some Swallows even seek the shelter of barns
and outbuildings for their home sites, while
others inhabit the houses and boxes erected for
their occupancy by the loving hand of man.
They, too, are expert flycatchers, but their habits
are quite different from those of the family we
have just studied. Being provided with long,
slender wings, they are among our strongest and
most graceful fliers. They spend most of the
hours of daylight on the wing, picking up the flies
and gnats of the air. So much time do they spend
in flight that their feet are undeveloped, so small
and weak that they are not good walkers. Barn
Swallows, stumbling about on the grass, remind
one of clumsy infants just taking their first
steps. This family is not especially noted as
singers, yet their happy warbles bring much
cheer, making them very welcome neighbors
during the long summer days.

79

80 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Bam Swallows. The Barn Swallow, in pose
and flight, is a very graceful bird, and its plu-
mage, w^hile not brilliant, is beautiful. There is
little difference between the male and female in
coloring, and there is slight change during the
season, except, perhaps, for added sheen on his
coat during the mating and nesting season.
The upper parts are steel-blue, the forehead,
throat and breast a fine chestnut. The outer
feathers of the tail are dark, spotted with
white. The tail is deeply forked, giving rise to
the expression, "swallow-tail."

In and out among the rafters and beams of
the barn they flit many times a day, their busy
twitterings, very pleasant sounds, not worthy
perhaps to be dignified with the name of song,
but suggestive of happy, peaceful lives, con-
tent with simple ways, rather than aspiring to
places of prominence in the bird opera. Gentle
and peaceful as they are under ordinary condi-
tions, when you climb to their nests on the
rafters or beams, they fly about in great distress,
even darting at your head, voicing in very
emphatic tones their disapproval of your
intrusion.

I often think the Barn Swallow is blessed with
a strong sense of humor. When the feeding for
a time is over, if they sight puss prowling about
the dooryard, a rallying cry will bring a goodly
number of these skillful navigators of the air, and
the sport is on. Straight at her they dart almost
within striking distance of her cruel paw, then
sheer off with a chuckle at her disappointment.
Again and again the operation is repeated.

SWALLOWS 81

sometimes for an hour or more, till, quite dis-
tracted, puss withdraws to seek easier game.
Now and then when they venture a bit too close,
she is able to strike one, and alas! our inhab-
itants of the barn are one less. Only a few times,
however, have I witnessed this outcome to their
teasing.

The nest of this Swallow is built of clay and
lined with feathers. The eggs are white with
rather large spots of brown. They range in
summer as far north as Greenland and winter
in South America. They arrive in the vicinity
of New York City the latter part of April. The
length of this bird is about seven inches.

Eave Swallow. Another dweller about the
farm buildings is the Eave Swallow, and he also
takes his name from his nest-building habit.
Not in the old barn, but under its wide eaves,
they build their clay houses.

When the May showers make mud-puddles
in the road, this little mason becomes very busy,
rolling up pellets of clay and transporting them
to his nest site. As they usually build in colonies,
often of a dozen or more pairs, the scene is an ani-
mated one, for the work must be hurried while the
material is ready. Our neighbor's barn has had
a colony of eave dwellers for many years and
they have been the source of much amusement
to the many observers.

Frequently there are as many as twenty of
these tenements in one cluster; again not more
than four or five; sometimes a solitary nest is
built. These nests are rather fragile and need
constant repair. Now and then the whole

S2 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

structure falls, destroying eggs, fledglings and
all, and the poor birds seem quite distracted. But
in a few days they go bravely about the work
of repair and the season's labors go on as though
no untoward accident had befallen them.

It is a curious sight when the tenement is
completed to see the mistress of each apartment
sitting in the circular entrance at evening
chattering and gossiping, but ever alert to drive
away any who presume to invade the privacy of
her home. The query is often raised, are the
houses numbered? How else could they tell
their own.^ When the first settlers came to
America, these birds built on cliffs and were
known as Cliff Swallows. In the West they still
follow this habit.

The notes of the Eave Swallow, little more
than wheezy squeaks, are less attractive than
those of the Barn Swallow. They strongly
resemble their cousins in dress, but the tail is
less deeply forked. They are easily told by the
brownish ring about the neck and by the cres-
cent-shaped frontlet "shining like a new moon."
These Swallows are slightly shorter than Barn
Swallows. They nest from New Jersey as far
north as Labrador, and in the interior even to
the Arctic Ocean, wintering in the tropics. We
may expect to see them around New York City
late in April.

Tree Swallow. You may also have this Swal-
low for a dooryard companion in summer,
if you will offer him a cozy tenement in the
shape of an attractive bird box. They are less
gregarious than other members of this family,

SWALLOWS 83

yet sometimes several pairs nest in the same
general locality. In the forest they inhabit old
Woodpecker holes and hollow trees. On the
farm a hollow fence-rail or a hole in an apple
tree makes a suitable nest site.

A pair of these happy birds for several seasons
has occupied one of our bird houses set on the
little shelf where the eave finish breaks around
the corner. Both birds assist in building, and it
seems to me they carry into the little structure
much more material than they need, sometimes
filling it so full of coarse grass and straw that
they enter with difficulty. The nest is made very
soft with feathers, a safe receptacle for the four
or five white eggs. They are easily distinguished
from other Swallows by their pure white breasts.
The upper parts are steel-blue or steel-green,
darker on the wings and tail. The tail is only
slightly forked. Their coats are glossy, glisten-
ing like silk in the sunshine, making them, we
think, very attractive ornaments about the
premises.

They are the first Swallows to arrive in the
spring and among the first to leave in August.
Since they feed exclusively on insects at this
season, they are almost constantly on the wing,
now skimming low over the water, now whirl-
ing over the land in graceful circles, gathering
their food as they go.

When the young are grown these swallows
gather in flocks and haunt the marshes and
streams where insect life is most plentiful. They
disappear to the southward by the latter part of
August, and winter in the far tropics. Their

84 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

notes are limited to a happy chuckle, a sort of
family greeting, which I most often hear as the
parent bird arrives at the nest with food. They
also have a low call note of alarm, but are, on
the whole, the most silent of our Swallows.
They are scarcely six inches long, an inch
shorter than the Barn Swallow.

Bank Swallow. The Bank Swallow also is
named for its nesting habits. This bird is an
engineer, a digger of tunnels, at the far end of
which is a secure location for its eggs and brood.
Along the sandy river banks and where excava-
tions have been made by man, this Swallow
digs with its tiny feet a tunnel three or four feet
long. At the end a chamber is excavated in
which a nest is loosely made of grass and coarse
straw, softened with feathers gathered from the
farmyard. The eggs are pure white.

Sometimes when you are walking along the
edge of a bank you will hear a strange muffled
sound coming from beneath your feet, and with
a whir of wings, out will dart, from their dark
cells, the frightened birds to inquire into the
character of the disturbance. Whirling about,
they angrily chatter for some time, but, on your
departure, settle back to their home cares again.

Their notes, which have been described as a
"giggling twitter," are less pleasing than those
of the other members of the family. As they
are decidedly gregarious, we see these Swallows,
too, in great flocks after the young are grown,
often in the company of Barn and Eave Swal-
lows. They also frequent the streams, gliding
about like their cousins in search of food.

I'LKIMJ-: MARTIN

SWALLOWS 85

This is the smallest of our Swallows, scarcely
more than five inches in length. Unlike their
relatives, the plumage is dull, having no sheen
or brilliancy. The best distinguishing marks
are the dusky breast and white throat; the
upper parts are brownish gray. Their summer
range is practically all of North America. They
winter as far south as Brazil and are among our
April arrivals.

Purple Martin. The largest of all our Swal-
lows is the Purple Martin, or House Martin, as
he is often called, because, like the Tree Swallow,
he, too, will gladly accept the proflPer of a tene-
ment in the shape of a neatly painted house.
But he insists that it be set firmly at the end of
a stout pole, tall enough to discourage all efforts
of the house cat, which seems to have a special
fondness for the flesh of this fine bird.

These Swallows are among our most attrac-
tive bird neighbors, being rollicking, jovial fel-
lows, always good-natured, if one can judge from
their frequent conversations. Whether on the
wing or sitting on their comfortable porches,
they seem to carry on almost constant com-
munication in tones that indicate easy-going,
amiable natures. Their notes are like liquid
laughter. There are few birds more attractive
to me, especially in the morning, even though
they disturb my sleep with their entertaining
talk. They have neither sweet song nor bright-
colored plumage, but their constant good humor,
friendly manner and commendable domestic
traits make them most welcome tenants.

One of the few occasions when this disciple of

86 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

peace shows signs of bad temper is when at the
end of the long journey from his winter haunts
in the tropics he finds his home in possession of
a squad of noisy English Sparrows. Then there
is immediately trouble in camp. If the fur
doesn't fly, it is because there is none in the
dress of the saucy intruders. As a rule, a very
short combat ends the affair and the Sparrows
seek other homes. The Martins, their battle
won, proceed to pitch out of doors whatever
they find, nest eggs, or young, it matters not.
Then, in clean quarters, they leisurely build
nests of straw lined with feathers, and lay the
six to eight pure white eggs. It is needless to say
the members of the farmer's household always
fully sympathize with the Martins. Sometimes
Bank Swallows, being earlier on the ground,
pre-empt the quarters of the Martins, and then
a family quarrel is started which usually results
in a victory for the larger birds.

So far as I am able to learn, the Martins at
present nest wholly in receptacles provided by
man. In the South, believing Martins help to
safeguard the chickens against attack from
hawks, the negroes suspend hollow gourds from
the end of tall poles.

This Swallow is eight inches long. The male
has shiny blue-black plumage above and below,
the wings and tail being slightly duller. With
the female the upper parts are dull black, the
under parts brownish gray, the feathers some-
what tipped with white. They range north to
Newfoundland in summer and winter in Central
and South America.

Chapter VI

OUR BEST SINGERS

Thrushes — Including the Robin and
Bluebird

**Who sings New England's Angelus?
A little bird so plainly dressed
With robe of brown and spotted vest,
He rings New England's Angelus. "

— Nelly Hart Woodworth.

It is generally believed by bird lovers that the
Thrushes as a family are our very best singers.
In both quality of tone and power of expression
they are the recognized leaders of the bird choir.
They are a large family, distributed throughout
the greater part of the world. We have about a
dozen varieties in the United States of w^hich
five may be classed as common birds in the
Eastern States, either as regular summer den-
izens, or as transient visitors.

The distribution of Thrushes in summer is a
very interesting example of Nature's wisdom,
for she does not gather all of her most attractive
creatures in a single locality. The most southern
in range is the Wood Thrush; the Veery over-
laps his zone and extends into the territory'
occupied by the Hermit. This rare singer
reaches into the haunts of the Olive-backed;

87

SS BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

and still farther north is the Gray-cheeked,
which advances in its most northern range well
toward the Arctic regions. The Bicknell, I believe,
nests only in the Appalachian Mountains,
rarely below three thousand feet elevation. Of
course these zones are not to be absolutely defined,
but they will give an excellent general idea of
the location in summer of the various species.
As a family, Thrushes are clad in sober brown
suits, plain and unpretentious, but not unat-
tractive. Perhaps Dame Nature did not think
it wise to dress such excellent vocalists in bril-
liant colors.

Wood Thrush. Although one naturally thinks
from its name that this is a forest-dwelling
bird, yet it is very common about the city
parks and gardens, even about the hedges and
shrubbery of the lawn. In fact its name is quite
a misnomer, another illustration of naming a
bird for what it is not, rather than for what it is.
No other member of this family is seen so much
in the open, or so close about our homes.

This is in dress the most strikingly marked of
our Thrushes. The upper parts are cinnamon-
brown, brightest on the crown. The white under
parts are marked with large, round black spots
on the breast and sides, with finer spots running
from the bill to the marks on the breast. It
sometimes raises the feathers of the crown when
excited, giving the appearance of a crest. It is
the largest of our Thrushes, nearly eight and
one-half inches in length.

The Wood Thrush is distinctly a bird of
elegance and grace in pose and movement, and

f"

' ^

Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies
WOOD THRUSH

OUR BEST SINGERS 89

its disposition is what one expects in a bird of
such vocal ability; for in some way we have
come to associate musical talents of high order
with amiability of temper. When disturbed,
particularly during the nesting season, it utters
a sharp quick alarm note, '' pit, pit,''' which gives
evidence of its anxiety for the fledglings. It
also has, at intervals, a series of '''chucks^'' and
" tuts " which it runs together as an interlude to
its song. Many believe the Wood Thrush is ex-
celled only by the Hermit. Its notes are pure
and limpid, the opening strain, calm and peace-
ful, has often been interpreted by the words,
"Come to me." Heard at evening, when all
nature is at peace, it is a soulful and uplifting
strain. It ranges over the Eastern States, breed-
ing as far north as northern New England.

The Wood Thrush is a rare bird in Maine,
but in the thick deciduous forest surrounding
the Pleasant River camps, some five miles from
Katahdin Iron Works, each season for several
years I found a colony of them nesting. For
some time I was puzzled at their presence so far
north and was inclined to believe them a variety
with which I was not familiar, but after much
careful study and comparison I am convinced
they are Wood Thrushes. In the little camp I
occupy In sound of the rippling stream, their
notes, soothing and delicious, are heard till the
twilight has gone; and again in early morning
with the first gleam of the approaching day they
pipe their melodious lays. The presence of these
birds in the woods far north of their accustomed
haunts has been the source of so much pleasure

90 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

to me that I am held by them for a day or two
each year. I also hear this Thrush in June in the
wooded parks of New York City, where they
arrive in the latter part of April. The nest of
the Wood Thrush is made of mud, dead leaves,
twigs and grass, Hned with fine rootlets. It is
usually placed in a bush or tree several feet
above the ground. The eggs are light blue like
the Robin's.

Hermit Thrush. The earliest comer of the
Thrushes is the Hermit, and he is the last to
leave in the fall. In the veiy first days of April
he appears in the city parks of New York, pass-
ing on in a week or ten days to his nesting
ground north of the latitude of central New
England. At this season he is silent, giving no
hint of the wonderful vocal power he exhibits
when settled down in his summer range.

The Hermit's dress, olive-brown above, shad-
ing to brighter brown on the tail, is duller than
that of the Wood Thrush. The breast and throat
tinged with buff, have rather faint wedge-
shaped marks of brown running into lines on
the sides. The best field mark is the bright
brown tail, as this is the only Thrush to have
the tail brighter than the back. When perched,
the Hermit at intervals slowly lifts its tail, a
habit followed by no other Thrush.

For its song, the Hermit is the most admired
of all northern birds. Perhaps the Mocking Bird
is as much admired in the South, but probably
an unprejudiced judge would say that in tone
and execution the Hermit is unexcelled. Mr.
Matthews pronounces him "the most talented

OUR BEST SINGERS 91

and brilliant melodist in the world, the Night-
ingale not excepted."

There is a quality in this song that appeals
directly to one's spiritual nature. It is limpid,
serene, uplifting, impossible to express in words.
Many have tried to convey some adequate idea
of its wonderful quality, but all, to my mind,
have failed. To be appreciated at its full, it
should be heard in its proper setting, the gloom
of the thick woods, as the afternoon shadows
are lengthening. Then you will often hear an
alternating duet, as it were, ringing back and
forth between these sweet singers, the very soul
of tuneful melody.

There could scarcely be imagined a greater
contrast in song and habit than exists between
this "Swamp Angel," as he is well named, and
that minstrel of the meadow, the rollicking Bob-
oJink. The latter is distinctly a creature of the
sunshine and flower-strewn fields where, during
the long days of June, he pours forth his bubbling,
tinkling torrent of song which charms and de-
lights us with its very ecstasy. The life of the
Hermit, on the contrary, is secluded and seem-
ingly much less joyous. Like the Anchorite of
old, he seeks the silence and gloom of the ever-
green forest where he chants his hymn of praise,
a divine melody. I count myself very fortunate
that my boyhood was passed where this wonder-
ful wood-singer loved to dwell, and my heart is
filled with gratitude toward the Giver of all good
gifts for that great privilege.

The Hermit builds on the ground, usually in
the woods, a nest of moss, coarse grass and

92 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

leaves, lined with fine rootlets, pine needles, etc.
Last year I found two nests outside the woods,
one in a low bank by the roadside and only a
few feet from the wheeltrack; the other in a tuft
of coarse grass in a pasture, but in both cases
only a short distance from the edge of thick
woods. The four or five eggs are pale green or
light blue in color. The Hermit continues to
sing well toward the end of August, when most
birds are silent.

The Wilson Thrush, or Veery. In the thick
underbrush of low swampy lands, in tangles
on the banks of streams and ponds, and in
thick shrubbery in the parks, you will hear in
May the song of the Veery, another celebrated
member of this talented group. Some writers
have placed this Thrush even above the Hermit
as a singer, but for myself I have never been able
to put so high an estimate on his performance.
He, too, is a regular summer resident about our
homestead, but he has never aroused or in-
spired me as has his distinguished cousin. It
seems very probable that on my part there is
some lack of appreciation of a bird that has
inspired from the pen of Dr. Van Dyke this
beautiful tribute:

"The moonbeams over Arno's Vale in silver flood were pouring,
When first I heard the Nightingale a long-lost love deploring.
So passionate, so full of pain, it sounded strange and eerie;
I longed to hear a simpler strain, — the wood-notes of the Veery.

"But far away and far away, the tawny Thrush is singing;
New England woods, at close of day, with that clear chant are ring-
ing;
And when my light of life is low, and heart and flesh are weary,
I fain would hear before I go, the wood-notes of the Veery."

OUR BEST SINGERS 93

The Veery is a shy bird incHncd to keep well
within the cover of its nesting haunts. The most
satisfactory way to make his acquaintance is
to invade his thicket and sit still until he
appears. Only rarely do I see him cross the
river from the thick second growth where he
nests to the bush-grown bank where he feeds for
a time on the black worms that are destroying
the leaves of the alders. This is usually a ground-
dwelling bird, rarely seen in tall trees. On the
ground, or near it, is the nest of leaves and
twigs, lined with fine rootlets. The eggs are
plain greenish blue.

The call note of the Veery is a clear whistle,
^^ zvhe-eu''' or '' whoit.^^ The song has been de-
scribed as a "sylvan mystery, reflecting the
sweetness and wildness of the forest, a vocal
will-o-the-wisp. " Mr. Chapman calls it a "weird
monotone of blended alto and soprano notes. "
Mr. Burroughs describes it thus: "The soft mel-
low flute of the Veery fills a place in the chorus of
the woods that the song of the Vesper Sparrow
fills in the chorus of the fields. It has the
Nightingale's habit of singing in the twilight of
a June day, and when fifty rods distant, you will
hear their soft reverberating notes rising from
a dozen throats. It is one of the simplest strains
to be heard, as simple as the curve in form, de-
lighting from the pure element of harmony and
beauty it contains."

As I hear the Veery on the river bank at night,
its tones seem much like those of the Jew's
harp; nearer, this song is more reedy and melo-
dious. It sounds much like the word v-e-e-r-y

94 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

rolled over and over in a series of intertwining
circles.

The upper parts of this bird are a nearly
uniform cinnamon-brown, duller than the color
of the Wood Thrush. The under parts are
white, except the breast which is tinged with
buff, faintly marked with spots of brown. It is
slightly smaller than the Wood Thrush. Their
nesting range is from New Jersey to Newfound-
land. They also spend the summer in the Alle-
gheny Mountains as far south as North Caro-
lina. They winter in the tropics, as do all this
family.

The Olive-backed Thrush. (Swainson's
Thrush.) This Thrush, when seen in its northern
migration, is usually silent and will not be found
unless one looks carefully for it. They are in
small bands that keep to cover, appearing about
New York in the middle of May. They are to be
seen for a few days only, then pass along to
summer homes in the evergreen woods of the
North. I hear them singing in the middle
heights of the Catskills in late May, and again
in the spruce woods of northern Maine later in
the year I find them in abundance. There they
are the most common Thrush; the Hermit is
rarely heard and only occasionally the Veery,
but the Olive-backed sings in every spruce
thicket.

In migration they have several call notes,
''chick,'' ''pit,'' ''peep," but in the nesting
grounds, when I invade their dark domain, I
hear only a sharp "puck, puck." They are good
singers, in tone quality somewhat resembling

OUR BEST SINGERS 95

the Hermit, but are not so leisurely and serene.
When I first heard these Thrushes I was quite
puzzled, for I thought they must be young
Hermits. A little experience, however, soon
taught me to distinguish, and never since have
I been troubled. Their songs are heard at inter-
vals throughout the day, but toward night their
eflForts are almost continuous. Their opening
notes are brilliant, and one is led to expect a
splendid performance, only to be disappointed
with the closing strain.

The upper part of this Thrush's dress is a
uniform olive, rather dull in effect. The throat
and breast are cream buflP, the sides of the
throat and breast having wedge-shaped spots
of dark brown. The eye ring is buff. They
usually build in evergreen trees, eight to ten
feet above the ground, a compact, cup-shaped
nest of twigs, grass, leaves, moss, etc., lined with
fine roots and moss. The eggs are four or five in
number, greenish blue in color, spotted with
cinnamon-brown. They range in summer from
northern New England and New York to Lab-
rador.

Gray-cheeked Thrush. This bird is com-
paratively a stranger to the majority of bird
students. Only during migration are we allowed
even a glimpse, and that is only for those who
look closely; for they often travel in company
with the Olive-backed, which they so closely
resemble in color as to be almost impossible to
identify, unless one has both in his hands.
Their numbers at best are not large. They are
shy, and when found are pretty sure to get

96 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

quickly out of eye range. This Thrush breeds
far north of the United States, well up toward
the Arctic, hence is known as the Arctic Thrush,
and also as Alice's Thrush. In song and habits
they are believed to resemble the following
species.

Bickneirs Thrush. This Thrush seeks the
upper heights of mountains in New York State
and New England. It is seldom found, except
during migration, at an altitude less than three
thousand feet. It is much like the Gray-cheeked
in color, but the general effect of its plumage is
brighter; it is also a somewhat smaller bird.
Of its song Mr. Brewster says: "The song is
exceedingly like that of the Veery, having the
same ringing, flute-like quality, but it is more
interrupted and ends differently, the next to
the last note dropping a half tone and the final
one rising abruptly and having a sharp empha-
sis." I found this thrush on the wooded slopes
of Mt. Katahdin at an elevation of approxi-
mately four thousand feet. But it was late in
August, the nesting season was over and the
song period as well. They were shy and restless,
keeping well hidden in the thick evergreens.

Robin. To this famous family belongs our
old friend the Robin, for a Thrush he is, as you
will readily prove to your entire satisfaction if
you will make a careful study of his song. It is
not an easy matter in a limited space to do
justice to this great friend of man, for a volume
could be written about him, his friendliness,
conversation, nesting habits, song and travels.
While there is much we already know about this

OUR BEST SINGERS 97

vigorous songster, there is much more we do
not know. How long do they live? Where do
those particular birds winter that were raised
in your dooryard, or in your shade trees? Do
the same birds really come back to you and nest
in the same spot year after year? Do they
retain the same mate? What do they say to
each other in all the varied conversations they
carry on? These and many other interesting
queries about this common bird remain to be
answered by bird students. Is this not an inter-
esting field for investigation?

Robin is perhaps the most common bird about
the homes of men. In the shade trees and parks
of the city, about the village streets, in the door-
yard of the farmhouse, in field and pasture,
along the bushy banks of the river, in second
growth, in fact nearly everywhere in the open,
rarely in the dense forests, this sturdy house-
holder is found during the nesting season. But
in the fall after the last brood is well grown,
they flock and often retire to the woods and less
frequented localities where they become shy
and rather restless wanderers.

W^hile the nest is always the same rough struc-
ture of mud and grass, the nesting site varies
according to circumstances. In city streets and
parks it is placed on a limb often thirty or forty
feet high. About the farm it may be in a low bush
or tree, only a few feet above the ground; or
perchance, under the roof of the porch, or over
a window cap. In fact it may be found in any
convenient location, regardless of its exposed
position, for the bird has very little idea of con-

98 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

cealment. On the shelf at the corner of the eave
of our house, close against the wall of the little
chalet which is usually occupied by Tree Swal-
lows, a pair of Robins nested for three years in
succession, each year building the new nest over
the old, the structure finally reaching three
stories in height.

Robins rear two or three broods each year,
sometimes in the same nest, often in a new one
at some distance from the first. This year when
we arrived at our country home as usual we at
once looked up our bird friends. We found Phoebe
under the roof of the porch. Chippy and Song
Sparrow in the vines. Tree Swallow in the little
green house, but no Robin in his accustomed
place on the grillework under the veranda.
They were seen, however, pulling worms about
the lawn, and a little watching located the nest
on the river bank some forty rods away. In
early July, as a home site for their second brood,
to our great delight they moved into a low elm
right across the road in front of the lawn. A
nest was soon built and they settled down to
their domestic affairs with all the appearance
of that deep satisfaction which these birds
exhibit during nesting time. Early one morning
a little later we heard a great outcry from them
and on going out found they had disappeared.
The nest showed signs of a struggle, being awry
and somewhat torn. Two eggs were in it,^ but
it was abandoned, and our regret and disap-
pointment were great. A pair of Shrikes were
seen sneaking about the grounds and the crime
was laid at their door by the members of our

OUR BEST SINGERS 99

household, but I am not at all sure they were
guilty. The tragedies of the nests are many.
The wonder is that birds are able to maintain
their numbers at all in the face of so many
dangers.

The Robin is one of the very first comers in
the spring, while there are still many snowbanks
about and the winds are chill. I look for them
in Prospect Park in the early days of March.
At first they are obliged to feed on last year's
fruits and berries, for usually the frost is not
out of the ground so early and, in consequence,
the supply of earthworms is not yet available.
Often they frequent the orchard for the pulp
of the apples left from last year's crop, now
rendered soft by the winter's freezing. For a
few weeks, until the angleworms are ready,
their food problem is a hard one. Then all their
troubles are over, and the greening lawns are
dotted here and there w4th these vigorous birds.

No doubt a few Robins winter as far north
as Massachusetts in sheltered places where
berries may be had during the cold months.
But the great majority migrate in flocks to the
south, Georgia and Florida being favorite win-
ter haunts. There they roam about in search of
food which is not always available for so many
birds, even in those regions of abundance. In
the winter of 1911-1912 it was said many died of
starvation. Mr. Burroughs, in that year, spent
several weeks on a Georgia plantation and re-
turning north, told me of finding many dead
Robins, perished, as he believed, from lack of
food. One day, finding one weak and apparently

100 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

sick, he took it to the house and dug worms for
it. It eagerly devoured the first handful, even a
second, and flew away evidently fully recovered.
He concluded from this that many were in a
starving condition.

A few weeks before they begin their north-
ward flight in late January or February, they
often gather in enormous flocks, a real Robin
convention, sometimes spreading over several
square miles of territory. No doubt there are
hundreds of thousands of birds in one of these
gatherings, the purpose of which is all a mystery
to us. After a period of fraternizing, the flock
breaks up into small bands, and the migration
is on. When they arrive on their nesting grounds
they are either alone or in small flocks.

As a conversationalist the Robin takes high
rank. No bird so emphatically expresses the
varying emotions, and his emphatic alarm notes
when danger approaches are recognized by all
the birds in hearing. He is the watchman for
his neighbors of the open, as the Blue Jay is for
the forest-dwellers. The song of the Robin,
clear and bold, and audible at a long distance,
is rather hurried and nervous, entirely lacking
the serenity of several of his cousins. But the
"rain song," his best utterance, is a very inter-
esting performance, varying much with indi-
viduals. It has been interpreted thus:

*'I hear the Robins in the lane
Singing cheerily,
Cheer up, cheer up,
Cheerily, cheerily, cheer up.'*

OUR BEST SINGERS 101

The Robin is ten inches long. The upper
parts are grayish slate-color, the head black
with a whitish spot over the eye. The wings are
dark brown, the tail black. The breast is brick-
red, lighter in the female, fading in summer to
tan. The throat is streaked with black and
white, and the bill is yellow. They range over
eastern North America to the Rocky Moun-
tains, including eastern Mexico and Canada.

Bluebirds. Another herald of the spring
whose presence pleases the eye and gladdens
the ear is the Bluebird, one of the very first to
put in an appearance in early March. Their
winter homes being in the near South, the migra-
tion journey is not long. When the feel of spring
first touches their hearts they respond by taking
up the northward flight, and in a few days
we are made happier by their presence. The
male appears about a week earlier than his
mate, and "with the sky tinge on his back and
the earth tinge on his breast," as Mr. Bur-
roughs so perfectly describes his colors, is the
only bit of bright plumage we have, until Red-
wing arrives with his gaudy epaulets.

His happy warble about the orchard and farm
buildings seems to forecast the summer's
pleasure he anticipates. No sooner does the
female arrive than the mating takes place, and
the happy pair immediately look for a suitable
tenement. A hollow fence post, stump root,
abandoned Woodpecker's hole or bird box are
all regarded as likely situations, and no sooner
is the choice made than the nest building begins.
They are not experts in this direction and they

102 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

do not need to be, as the receptacle itself fur-
nishes much protection for the brood. In fact
the nest is merely a bunch of dried grass, loosely-
put together. The five or six pale blue eggs
are quickly laid, and in about twelve days the
nestlings are hatched. The young remain in
the nest about two weeks, then make their first
venture into the world clad in their fuzzy,
short-tailed suits of spotted blue and light.

Both parents take part in building the nest
and caring for the young. Usually the male
t^kes charge of the first brood, leading them to
some secure feeding ground while the indus-
trious mother rears a second brood.

We have them as tenants nearly every year,
and they make delightful neighbors. Some-
times, after the young are quite grown, just
before leaving home in the early morning they
will hop to the near-by windowsill of our chamber
and peek in, old and young, with much gossip
which we do not at all understand.

While Bluebirds are usually regarded as
gentle and amiable, they will fight fiercely with
other birds, particularly the English Sparrow,
for a nesting place. And the male, during incu-
bation, jealously guards that portion of the
lawn which he regards as his, fighting vigorously
and driving away any intruder, be it Robin,
Swallow, Sparrow, or even the quarrelsome
Kingbird.

Their notes in spring, usually uttered from
a perch, sound like ''cherry, cherry, cheer up'';
in the fall after they have gathered in flocks,
tJaey wander about uttering the mournful ''tur^

OUR BEST SINGERS 103

we, tur-we,''^ perhaps their expression of regret
at the waning season which will soon necessi-
tate their departure from the scene of their
happy home-making. Like the Robin, their
nests are very generally distributed in park,
field, pasture, orchard and lawn, but they do
not frequent the deep woods. Their summer
range extends over eastern North America to
the base of the Rocky Mountains, as far north
as New Brunswick, Ontario and Manitoba.
They winter from New York southward.

The plumage of the male is azure blue above,
the feathers of the wings having dark edgings!
The throat, breast and sides are brick-red, belly
white. In the fall the blue is somewhat tinged
with rusty red. The blue of the female is duller
and the breast paler. They are about seven
inches long.

Chapter VII
VIREOS

"Upon the lofty elm-tree sprays
The vireo rings the changes sweet.
During the trivial summer days,
Striving to lift our thoughts above the street."

— Thoreau.

The Vireo family is one that will fully repay
in enjoyment for the time spent in making their
acquaintance. Because they are summer dwel-
lers in thick-topped elms, maples and beeches,
veritable bowers of green, they were called
Greenlets by the early writers, and the name is
still used for its evident aptness. There are
fifty varieties of Vireos in all America, the
majority of which are found south of the United
States. Fifteen varieties are known in the
United States, only five of which are common in
the East. Their food consists of insects which
they catch while perched, worms and grubs
which they glean while slowly moving about
among the leaves. They also search the crevices
of the bark for spiders, beetles and caterpillars.
Thus we see they are very beneficial to man,
since they destroy countless insects which work
great injury among the trees of orchard, forest
and lawn.

There is a strong family resemblance among
104

VIREOS 105

the Vireos in plumage, form and size. All are
excellent architects, suspending from the fork
of a convenient branch at some distance from
the ground deep basket-like nests of fine bark,
paper, plant-down and rootlets. They are prob-
ably, so far as fine work is concerned, our best
and most artistic nest builders, and so much
alike are their structures it is not easy to iden-
tify them unless the nest is associated with its
maker.

The Warbling Vireo. A daily visitor to the
shade trees of our lawn is this plainly dressed
little Vireo. We are very grateful to him for
his many careful gleanings of leaf-destroying
insects, and w^e should welcome him as a resi-
dent but he prefers a nesting site in a thick-
topped maple in a neighbor's dooryard. But
he sings for us daily, even in the midday heat
when most birds are silent. His song, as sug-
gested by the name, is a warble, and w^hile in
no way to be compared with the splendid per-
formance of the Purple Finch, it is a pleasing
melody, flowing and mellow, that suggests to
you contentment. The most common call note
is a harsh, squally utterance, much like the call
of the Catbird, seemingly quite out of harmony
with the song and general makeup of this other-
wise attractive bird.

The Warbling Vireo is a plainly dressed little
bird, rather smaller than the Song Sparrow.
The upper parts are ashy olive-green, w^ith head
and neck somewhat lighter. The whitish under
parts are washed with yellow, brighter on the
sides. This bird arrives in early May, ranges

106 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

as far north as Hudson Bay, wintering in the
tropics.

Red-eyed Vireo. Much more conspicuous in
song than the little bird just considered is his
larger cousin, the Red-eyed Vireo, or Preacher
Bird, as he is commonly called from the peculiar
style of his utterance. He is an inhabitant of
orchard and shade trees, roadside and city
parks, as well as the woods, and from his leafy
retreat at all hours of the day, even at high
noon, may be heard his emphatic notes.

This is our most common Vireo, a fearless,
gentle, lovable bird, usually in good temper, who
pursues the even tenor of his way with little
sign of alarm or suspicion when you invade his
nesting grounds. If in his vicinity, all you need
do is to wait patiently and he is pretty sure
to show himself, for he is usually on the move.

They are plainly dressed and yet their delicate
shades and smooth feathers make them rather
handsome birds. The crown is dull gray with
black stripes on either side, and a distinct white
line over the eye. Othenvvise the upper parts
are light olive-green; the under parts are pure
white. The iris of the eye is red, an excellent
field mark when the bird is near.

The song of the Preacher is easily identified
for its characteristic qualities. Henry Ward
Beecher, ascribing to the bird a devotional
nature, said of him, "He pauses between each
nK>rsel of food to give thanks to Heaven," an
excellent interpretation of his motive. Wilson
Flagg's description of his song is highly appre-
ciative: "His style of preaching is not declam-

VIREOS 107

atory. We might suppose him to be repeating
moderately with a pause between each sen-
tence, 'You see it, you know it, do you hear
me? Do you beHeve it?' All these strains are
delivered with a rising inflection at the close
and with a pause as if waiting for an answer. "
Thoreau spoke of him as singing "like a Robin
at even, incessantly," and there is more sim-
ilarity in their songs than is here expressed, for
the notes of the two birds are much alike in tone
quality. But where the Robin is always hurried
and evidently anxious to get to the end, the
Preacher is deliberate, unhurried.

The summer range of this bird is very exten-
sive, over the greater part of North America
from the Gulf to Labrador, even to the Arctic
regions. They winter from Florida southward.
The nest of the Red-eyed Vireo is suspended
from the fork of a limb of maple, birch, elm or
apple tree. It is made of bits of birch bark,
hornet's paper and plant fibre, lined with finest
grass. In the nests I find bits of white birch
bark are very conspicuous. The eggs are white
with reddish spots. It is said the male aids in
incubation, and often sings as he sits on the nest.
The nesting season is rather late. They arrive
in New York City in early May and leave
toward the end of October.

Yellow-throated Vireo. Like others of the
family this Vireo spends its time largely in
the leafy treetops. In migration they are seen
about city parks and lawns, in the orchard
and along the roadside. But as the nesting
season approaches they withdraw to the soli-

108 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

tude of the woods where is built a house which
must be at once the joy and despair of every
other member of this artistic family. It is
woven of strips of bark and plant fibre, lined
with fine grass, and covered on the outside with
dainty lichens, a wonderful little cup at once
dainty and highly adapted to its purpose. The
location selected for this wonderful nest
is often so wild and romantic that you will
declare it» quite in keeping with the character
of the nest.

This is a sleek, rather stoutly built Vireo,
somewhat smaller than the Preacher, with a
very attractive suit of light olive-green above,
bright yellow throat, breast and eye ring, and
two distinct bars of white on the wings. They
come to us about May i, and nest from Florida
to Newfoundland.

The song of the Yellow-throat resembles that
of the Preacher, but it is more deliberate, richer
and fuller, a much more pleasing performance.
It is often said the Yellow-throat is the con-
tralto, the Red-eye the soprano of the bird
chorus. It, too, sings at midday as well as at
morning and night, and it sings in flight.

The White-eyed Vireo. This little virago
of the bird world has a range somewhat less
extended than the foregoing species. They are
rare birds in central New England and are
practically unknown north of that region.
Farther south, however, in New Jersey and
Long Island, they are classed as common sum-
mer residents.

While they are possessed of considerable

VIREOS 109

musical skill, so irritable and ill humored are
they that they bear a very bad reputation
among bird students. "Impertinent," is the
word Mr. Chapman uses in describing them;
"saucy" and "querulous" are words often
applied to this scold. Yet Mr. Bradford Torrey
regards them as possessing much skill in music-
al expression. The notes of the bird seem to me
in keeping with its character. They are high
pitched and emphatic, and it often appears that
the bird joins together snatches of the songs of
half a dozen singers in a medley that is both
highly amusing and remarkably executed.

This is one of the birds often imposed upon
by the Cowbird, for with all its irritable temper
it has a tender heart, or else is very stupid, for
instead of pitching out of the tiny nest, perhaps
already filled with her own eggs, the large egg
of this lazy intruder, the little mother will
hatch it and care for the fledgling with the same
tenderness bestowed upon her own. And it
often happens that this larger youngster crowds
out of the nest the rightful occupants. Surely
the Cowbird has great foresight in the selection
of a nest in which to lay her tgg, for she could
scarcely find a kinder-hearted mother, with all
her shrewish habits of temper.

The White-eyed Vireo is slightly smaller than
the Warbling. The upper parts are bright olive-
green with washings of gray. The under parts
are whitish, the breast and sides washed with
light yellow, and there are two distinct wing
bars. The iris is white, and there is a yellow
ring around the eye. Its nesting habits are much
like those of the Solitary.

110 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Solitary Vireo. This bird is also known as
the Blue-headed Vireo, because of the handsome
bluish-gray color of the crown and sides of the
head. While it is not a rare bird, it is a forest-
dweller and far from abundant, though one
could easily wish to have them for intimate
friends, so lovable are they. Its songs are varied
both in tone and quality. Its chief performance
is something like that of the Red-eyed, but has
a tenderness all its own. It has been called a
"pure, serene uplifting of its loving nature."
Its most common utterance is a musical chatter,
strangely resembling the notes of the Baltimore
Oriole, and it also has a flowing warble, tender
and thrilling, rather an unusual repertory you
will say for so modest a little creature. They
are exceedingly tame and trustful, especially
when nesting. It is said one may approach
close to the nest, even freely stroking the sitting
bird, but probably this is true only in rare
cases.

The Solitary is the first of the Vireos to arrive
in the spring, reaching the vicinity of New York
in April, and the last to depart in the fall. Their
notes are heard even as late as September.
They nest in the woods, building, as do all their
relatives, a wonderful little cup-shaped nest,
which is suspended from a limb several feet
above the ground. The eggs are white, sparsely
speckled with umber.

Chapter VIII

A SUMMER CHORUS

Bobolinks, Orioles, Cowbirds, Blackbirds,
Meadow Larks

"June's bridesman, poet o* the year,
Gladness on wings, the bobolink, is here;
Half hid in tip-top apple-blooms he swings,
Or climbs against the breeze with quiverin* wings,
Or givin' way to't in a mock despair,
Runs down, a brook o* laughter, thru the air."

— Lowell.

Several birds, so widely different in feeding
and nesting habits, plumage and song that it
is not easy to see the resemblance usually noted
among members of a family, are considered in
this chapter. They are for the most part gre-
garious after the young are reared. Their food
is varied — seeds, fruits, berries and insects. It
is an American family, most abundant in Cen-
tral and South America.

Bobolink. Each year when, about the twentieth
of June, I arrive in our little valley in Maine,
the broad, upland fields about our house are
fence full of lush herdsgrass and clover, thickly
strewn with buttercups and daisies. Many
birds nest in this excellent cover, the most con-
spicuous of which, if not the most abundant, is
the Bobolink. Not only does his gay suit compel

111

112 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

attention, but his song is heard throughout the
day as he hovers on trembling wing above his
ground-set nest, or swings and sways on the
stout grass stalks. His best musical efforts are
heard when the bird is on the wing, and what a
singer he is! His rollicking, bubbling, tinkling
notes roll and tumble from his throat in a tor-
rent that seems to have its source in an inex-
haustible fountain of melody. There is no
describing his song in words, but Wilson Flagg's
"The O'Lincoln Family" is very suggestive:

'Every one's a funny fellow; every one's a little fellow;
Follow, follow, follow, follow o'er the hill and in the hollow.
Merrily, merrily there they hie; now they rise and now they fly;
They cross and turn, and in and out, and wheel about and down the

middle
With a phew shew Wadolincon; listen to me Bobolincon,
Happy's the wooing that's speedily doing, that's speedily doing,
That's merry and over with the bloom of the clover;
Boblincon, Wadolincon Winterseeble, follow, follow me!"

The notes of this meadow minstrel are indeed
"over with the bloom of the clover," for when
the scythe invades his grassy home his song
dies as though the warder of the season had
issued a stop order. The song is not dropped
in a single day, but piecemeal, and with its dis-
appearance there is heard his call note, a highly
metallic '' chink " that is not heard earlier in the
season. Thoreau said of his notes, "They are
refreshing to my ear as the first distant tinkling
and gurgling of a rill to a thirsty man. . . .
But away he dashes and the meadow is ail
bespattered with melody. His notes fall with
the apple blossoms in the orchard. " The Bobo

A SUMMER CHORUS 113

link's notes have been called a species of musical
fireworks.

Of his dress, Bryant sang:

"Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest,

Wearing a bright black wedding coat.
White are his shoulders and white his crest,
Hear him call in his merry note!"

Add to this description that the neck and mid-
dle of the back are corn-yellow and the tail
feathers sharply pointed, and you have a good
picture of a feathered dandy. But how different
is the color of his little mate. Yet her "Quaker"
dress is much better adapted to her domestic
cares, sitting on the nest and tending the
youngsters among the brown grass stalks. The
color of her back always reminds me of the
brown of the Meadow Lark, another inhabitant
of the grass fields that surround our home.
Her dress above is olive-buff streaked with dark
brown and there are two distinct black stripes
on the head. The under parts are yellowish
white. At the moulting, which follows the nest-
ing season, the male changes to the colors of the
female, donning a traveling suit, as it were.
Then they gather in flocks and frequent the
grain fields, and by mid-August begins the long
journey to their winter home in far-away Brazil.

As they travel through the Middle States,
they are known as Reed Birds, and farther
south as Rice Birds, from their feeding habits.
Under these names they are, alas! classed as
game birds, and thousands of their fat bodies
are eaten in the fall by Southern epicures. It

114 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

may be said in extenuation of what seems to the
bird-lover of the North a heartless killing of one
of our most attractive birds, both in song and
plumage, that the hunters of the marshes of
Maryland and the rice fields of the Carolinas
never see Robert Lincoln at his best. To them
he is plain of plumage, without song, his only
utterance at that time being his metallic ^' chink, ^^
and he is so fat from constant gorging with food
that his skin breaks when he falls under the
hunter's aim. Notwithstanding this, however,
I cannot bring myself to believe that the killing
of this splendid bird is in any way justified, and
my earnest prayer is for uniform protection of
him in all our States.

The nest is made of coarse grass, lined with
fine grass and usually placed on the ground.
The five or six eggs are grayish-white, mottled
with irregular olive-brown. They nest from
northern New Jersey northward to Nova Scotia
and west to Utah. They appear in early May.

Cowbird. There could scarcely be imagined
a greater contrast in all those characteristics
that make a bird attractive to man, than that
which exists between the Bobolink and the
Cowbird. As we have seen, the former is at-
tractive in song and dress and lovable in every
way; the latter is unattractive in coloring,
without song, and in its habits a despised and
detested bird. Not because of plain colors or
lack of musical ability is this estimate put upon
him, but because they utterly refuse to assume
the cares of rearing a brood, shifting their domes-
tic duties upon some little mother perhaps

A SUMMER CHORUS 115

already overburdened with her own affairs.
Thus they are the pariahs, the outcasts of the
bird world.

Cowbirds neither build nests, hatch their
eggs, nor feed their fledglings. Instead, this
unnatural bird sneaks into the nests of defence-
less Warblers, Vireos, and Sparrows, laying an
egg here and there until her full brood is depos-
ited, leaving the future of eggs and nestlings to
the tender mercies of the nest owners. In this
way the eggs may be scattered in a half dozen
nests. The young bird is much larger than the
other nestlings and grows so rapidly it soon fills
the nest, to the discomfiture and distress of the
rightful occupants. Sometimes the tiny in-
mates are pushed out of their own home by this
overgrown intruder. It is not easy to explain
why the mother bird does not pitch out the egg
of the Cowbird as soon as it is deposited. In-
stead, it often seems that she will bestow upon
egg and young even more tender care than upon
her own. It is a strange sight to see a dainty
Warbler or Vireo feeding a clumsy young Cow-
bird, much larger than herself. But these anom-
alies give to bird study an added interest. As
soon as the young Cow^birds are able to fly, they
seek their own and remain in flocks till they
depart in late fall.

Cowbirds appear early in the spring in small
bands, alone, unless with English Sparrows, for
they are shunned by self-respecting birds. They
are seen with the cattle in the pasture, picking
up the insects disturbed by the grazing. It is an
interesting sight to see them perched and quietly

116 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

resting on the backs of the cattle as they lie
peacefully chewing their cuds after the morn-
ing's feeding is over.

The color of the male is rich coffee-brown on
the head, neck and breast; elsewhere the plu-
mage is shiny black. The female is dark slate-
brown above, lighter below. They breed as far
north as lower Canada and winter from New
Jersey southward. The egg is white, evenly
sprinkled with cinnamon-brown. This bird is
eight inches in length.

Meadow Lark. While this bird bears the
name Lark, it does not properly belong to that
distinguished family, whose best-known mem-
ber is the famed Skylark of Europe. The
Meadow Lark was not a resident of our valley
in my youth, but first appeared there some
twenty years ago and now is a very common
summer resident; in fact he is with us most of
the year, for he comes early and stays late. In
the Middle States he is classed as a permanent
resident. But the great majority of them move
southward in late autumn, wintering in the near
Southern States. I do not find them in the
parks of New York City, but in the open fields
in the suburbs, Flatbush, Flatlands and Bath
Beach they are common enough.

Their ringing notes, "Spring o' the year,'^
are very welcome sounds, especially in March
and April when the ear is eager for bird song.
From the topmost branch of a tree, from a
telephone pole, even from so low a perch as the
stone wall he whistles his clear and musical
strain. But thus exposed he is rather shy, and

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A SUMMER CHORUS 117

quickly takes wing, as you approach, with a
peculiar, fluttering, trembling motion, half fly-
ing, half sailing to a safer location in the fields
of grass. Besides this song he has a series of
rather harsh, grating calls, rather unpleasant to
the ear, especially when the bird is alarmed. It
IS said his western cousin far surpasses him as a
vocalist.

Probably the greatest attraction of the
Meadow Lark is his fine plumage which presents
a symphony of coloring that is not surpassed
among birds. So perfectly do the streaked
black, brown and gray of his back harmonize
with the color of the grass stubble where he
lives, that were he to keep quiet, he would rarely
be discovered. The sides and under parts are
whitish, spotted with black, except the breast
which is a beautiful yellow with a very distinct
black crescent. The outer tail feathers are
white, a most conspicuous field mark in flight.

When the Meadow Lark lights, if he sees you
looking at him, he shakes and flutters his tail
as though in anger at your presence. He will
watch you for a moment and then take up his
search for food, skulking through the grass much
like a young turkey in pose and movement.
Although rather shy, they sometimes nest within
a hundred feet of our lawn. The structure of
coarse grass, lined with finer grass, always on
the ground, is sometimes roofed over. The eggs,
four to six in number, are white, thickly spotted
with fine brown spots.

The summer range of the Meadow Lark is
broad, from the Gulf of Mexico to New Bruns-

118 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

wick and Minnesota. They winter from Massa-
chusetts southward and return to us in early-
March. They are nearly eleven inches in length
and rather plump. Formerly they were con-
sidered as game birds and annually hunted by
the man with dog and gun.

Orchard Oriole. A bird seen about the shade
trees and wooded parks of our Northern cities
as well as in the orchards and shade trees of
the farm is the Orchard Oriole, a bird of re-
finement in dress, song and manners. It does
not range so far north as the more abundant
variety, the Baltimore Oriole, and can scarcely
be classed as a common bird in New England;
but in the Middle States they are found in
goodly numbers.

The dress of the male is much less showy than
that of his cousin, and some there are who re-
gard it as in better taste. The head, neck,
throat and upper back are black, the rump and
under parts rich chestnut, while the wings and
tail are olive-brown tipped with whitish. With
the female the upper parts are olive-green, the
head and rump brighter. The wings are olive-
brown tipped with whitish, the under parts dull
yellow.

As a singer the Orchard Oriole excels in ex-
pression and flexibility of its short, clearly
voiced notes, and there is much of the same
quality manifest in the full clarion-like song of
its brilliant relative. This bird seems very happy
as it works about its nest in the sweet-scented
orchard, its snatches of melody a spontaneous
voicing of its gratitude.

A SUMMER CHORUS 119

The Orchard Oriole is an excellent nest
builder. He suspends from a conveniently
forked branch, a basket-like structure skillfully-
woven of fibrous materials and neatly lined with
fine grass and hair. Sometimes it is placed in the
fork of a branch. The eggs are three to five in
number, bluish white, marked, spotted and
scrawled with dark brown or black. This bird
is about seven and one-half inches long. They
range in summer from the Gulf States to Massa-
chusetts and Ontario, wintering in the tropics.
They arrive in the vicinity of New York in
early May.

Baltimore Oriole. A very handsome mem-
ber of our summer chorus is the Baltimore
Oriole, the bird that was found by the early
settlers of Maryland so proudly wearing the
orange and black of their leader. Lord Balti-
more, that he has since borne that distinguished
name. Flashing about in the treetops, he is so
brilliant that he has been given the name of
Firebird. His bold and martial notes would
attract attention were his dress less showy, for
his vocal efforts are very prominent in the bird
choir. He sings in clear, rich tones, slightly
metallic, a variety of songs, none of which seem
to be quite finished. His vocabulary also is
varied, and we hear many clearly whistled notes
somewhat softer than his songs. Altogether he
is a very noisy fellow from his arrival in May
till the nesting time is passed. Then, in com-
pany with his plainly dressed family, he jour-
neys about with much conversation to be sure,
but less of his warlike trumpeting. All in all, he

120 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

is a splendid musician, enjoyed and admired by
all who know him.

As nest builders these Orioles are among our
most interesting birds. The bag-like structure,
several inches deep, is woven of horse hair,
twine, plant fibre, bits of cloth, paper, etc., and
suspended from the end of a swaying bough,
usually that of an elm tree. It is lined with hair,
cotton, etc., a safe and cozy cradle for the nest-
lings where they may swing and sway in the
gentle breezes, secure from all harm. We have
a nest made from twine, which we put out for a
pair of Orioles that nested for years in an elm
standing in a neighbor's dooryard. No other
material enters into the composition of the nest
except the horse hair, rootlets, and cotton used
for a lining. It is so securely fastened to the
forked branch from which it was suspended, that
it could be removed only by cutting away the
strings, some of the strongest of which are
wound round and round the branches, then
passed through the nest as the main supports.
As the twine was highly colored, the nest was
at first rather gaudy, but a season's sun and
rain faded it not a little.

Orioles have a bad reputation among owners
of orchards and vineyards, for they spoil much
fruit by puncturing it with their sharp bills. It
is believed, after careful investigation, that the
thirsty bird is seeking the juice of the fruit. A
remedy is said to be had by placing vessels of
water where they may be readily found. Some-
times the Orioles puncture the white Astrachans
that ripen in our garden in August. But I have

A SUMMER CHORUS 121

little fault to find with them, for their presence
more than repays the small loss of fruit. Be-
sides, they do much good by destroying count-
less beetles, caterpillars, moths, etc., which would
work much injury to orchard and vineyard.

The male Baltimore Oriole is a strikingly
handsome bird. The entire head, throat, upper
back and neck are black; the black wings are
edged with white and the tail feathers are orange,
the outer ones with a black band near the mid-
dle. The lower back, lesser wing coverts, breast
and belly are bright orange. With the female
the black is washed with olive-green and the
orange is much duller. They retain their bright
colors after moulting, rather an unusual condi-
tion. There is a second period of song in August
and early September. These birds range in sum-
mer over eastern North America, nesting from
the Gulf of Mexico to Canada, and wintering
in Central America. This Oriole is about eight
inches long.

Red-winged Blackbird. One of the early
comers, w^hose presence gladdens the eye, is the
Red-winged Blackbird, as he is misnamed, for
his wings and entire body are coal black, except
for the shoulders which are a brilliant red edged
with yellow, a most striking contrast to his
otherwise somber suit. The sexes, it is said, are
segregated durng their sojourn in the south,
and in consequence the flocks of males precede
by a few days the females. When they first
arrive in early March, for a time they roam
about in a careless way, but with the mating
eeasoa the flocks divide and they seek nesting

122 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

places, usually in small colonies, about bush-
grown marshes and cat-tail swamps near water.
In summer when I approach the boat landing
at the brook mouth, I am greeted by the harsh
''chock, chock^^ or a squeaky '' che-we-e-e-e''^ of
the male from his perch on the highest bush,
where he has an unobstructed view of the sur-
rounding country for a long distance. As I near
him, he rises on fluttering wing, circles about
above my head, then as I disappear in the thick
alders, swings back to his perch with his ringing
'' con-quer-ee, ok-a-lee.'^^ In the short marsh
bushes in the center of the little cove where the
brook and river join, his mate is carefully tend-
ing the nest, else her ''chuck, chuck '^ would be
heard as soon as my approach is announced.

Each year, in wading boots, I make my way
out to the nest, so well concealed in the pucker
brush that Lam not sure of its location till quite
upon it. The nest is a deep, well-made cup of
coarse grass lined with fine grass, and fastened
to a bush by twine strings and straws. The
eggs are pale green with black blotches and
stripes, as irregular as though scrawled with a
sharpened stick dipped in ink. The nests are
not far above the marsh and sometimes a rise of
water in June overflows and destroys them with
their contents.

The plumage of the female Red-wing has a
peculiar beauty that is realized only when the
bird is near at hand. The upper parts are black-
ish streaked with brown, and ashy; the under
parts are streaked dark and light and the throat
is yellowish. The male is about ten inches in

A SUMMER CHORUS 123

length. The female is notably smaller. They
range over eastern North America, from the
Gulf of Mexico to Manitoba and New Bruns-
wick, and winter from Virginia southward.

Rusty Blackbird. In late March, or early
April, you will see small bands of Rusty Black-
birds about the edges of swamps, bush-grown
banks of streams, and inland meadows. At first
they may puzzle you as to their identity, for
they are rather inconspicuous in color and arc
seen only for a short time when passing through
to nesting grounds in the North. The spring
dress of the male is a uniform, glossy black with
a bluish sheen in the sunshine. Later there
appears a rusty tinge, which gives the bird its
name. The female has a fine slate color above,
with the under parts somewhat duller. Both sexes
have pale straw-colored eyes like the Crackles.
Rusty Blackbirds are notably smaller than
Crackles, being about nine inches in length, the
approximate size of the Red-wing which they
resemble in flight and call notes. They breed
in colonies in swampy thickets that border
ponds and dead water streams. The nest is built
of sticks, moss and coarse grass, several feet
above the ground. Their feeding habits are
much like other Blackbirds, but there are no
grain fields to which they may resort. They
range in summer from the northern part of the
United States northward, wintering south of
Virginia.

Purple Grackle. With the outpost of the
advancing army in March appears the Purple
Grackle, a bird whose reputation seems to be

124 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

worse than his character warrants. I see them
on the green in Prospect Park, searching for
food along the banks of the ponds and streams,
and in the evergreens where they build; and on
the whole they seem to be rather attractive
birds. Perhaps I have not seen them at their
w^orst, when they are said to destroy the eggs
and young of small birds and to pull corn exten-
sively. The glossy black coats of the males
have a fine metallic lustre as they walk about
in the sunshine, but the females are duller and
with little of the iridescence so apparent on the
male. The iris is bright yellow.

Purple Crackles are about a foot in length.
The tail is long and wide, usually held high,
giving a peculiar pose to the bird when seen in
profile. They mate early, and by the beginning
of June their dull-coated youngsters may be
seen in their first attempts at flying. The
Crackles are not musical birds. They have a
series of wheezy calls so harsh and cracked that
it has been denominated the "wheelbarrow
chorus. " Their summer range is north to Massa-
chusetts and they winter in the Southern States.

Bronzed Grackle. This bird is closely allied
to the above in color and habits; in fact so nearly
alike are they in plumage it would be very dif-
ficult to distinguish between them unless both
birds were in hand. The Bronzed Crackle is
without the iridescent bars. Their notes, as I
have observed, are only a rasping " chack,"^^ and a
wheezy unmusical clatter when they try to sin&.
The food of both species is largely composed of
beetles, grubs, cutworms, caterpillars, grass-

A SUMMER CHORUS 125

hoppers, and the eggs and young of many
birds. Both species are called Crow Blackbirds.
The Bronzed Crackles have an unusual range,
from the Allegheny Mountains and southern
New England to Newfoundland and the Creat
Slave Lakes west to the Rocky Mountains and
south to Texas and Louisiana. They winter in
the lower Mississippi region and Mexico, rarely
in New England. I find them about my home
in Maine, but the Purple Crackle is unknown
there.

Chapter IX
WOODPECKERS

'Ah! there is the note of the first flicker, a prolonged,
Monotonous wick-wick-wick-wick-wick-wick,
But how that single sound peoples and enriches all the
Woods and fields! It seems to put a life into
Withered grass and leaves and bare twigs and henceforth
The days shall not be as they have been."

— Thoreau.

Woodpeckers are the carpenters, or wood
cutters, of the bird world. The structure of the
skull and the sharp-edged, chisel-like bill are
well adapted to the cutting and pecking habits
of these birds, by which means they obtain
their food supply and excavate their homes.
They are also supplied with long, slender and
very sharp-pointed tongues which may be ex-
tended to some length, excellent implements
for impaling and withdrawing the exposed grub.
With the exception of one variety, Woodpeckers
are rarely seen upon the ground. They are
creepers and climbers, the structure of the feet
being the best possible to aid them in clinging
to the perpendicular tree trunks, or to the under
side of horizontal limbs. Stability is given to
the body while in such position by the stiff
spines of the tail feathers which make excellent
braces. Thus we see in these birds that form and
structure of the various parts best adapted to
their habits.

126

WOODPECKERS 127

Woodpeckers have no gift of song, but in-
stead, in the mating season, as a love call, they
beat a lively tattoo upon some dead limb. All
the family, however, do have shrill call notes
characteristic of the various species.

This is a very large family distributed generally
throughout the earth. There are about twenty-
five varieties in the United States, eight of
which are common in the East. All have similar
nesting habits, building in a hole of their own
excavation in dead tree or stub, a loose nest.
The eggs are uniformly white.

Hairy Woodpecker. This very active friend
of the farmer is more often found in wooded
sections where there are plenty of dead and de-
caying trees which invite the exercise of his
trade. In cold weather they are frequently seen
about the orchard and trees of the lawn, where
they render valuable service in the destruction
of eggs and larvae of injurious insects.

If you watch him at work on the trunk of a
dead tree, you will see him scramble up, then stop
to listen for sound of borer, and, when he has
located one, begin with zest and skill to cut it out.
His head rises and falls with rapidity and regular-
ity, the effect of his labors plainly seen by the fly-
ing chips and bark. When the grub is uncovered,
out darts the sharp tongue to impale it, and it
is swallowed with a sharp *' c/^z/r," his cry of
satisfaction with the palatable morsel.

This Woodpecker is about the size of the
Robin, ten inches in length. The black and white
feathers of the back are fine, almost hairlike in
appearance; hence the name Hairy. The wings

128 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

are roughly striped with black and white, there
is a white stripe over the eye, and the under
parts are white. Thus you see their colors are
pure white and black. But the male has a
striking feature, a bright red patch on the nape
of the neck, which the female does not have.
Their size distinguishes them from their smaller
cousins, the Downies.

They are found as permanent residents
throughout the Eastern States, north of the
Carolinas, but are more common in the northern
portion of their range. Their nest is usually in
a hole in a more or less decayed tree, having its
entrance toward the east or south. The hole
extends into the tree a short distance, then
turns downward for a foot or so, ending in a
chamber where are laid the three to seven shiny-
white eggs. One can hardly imagine a safer nest-
ing site, and it seems there must be fewer
tragedies among Woodpeckers than among birds
nesting in the open. Yet, no doubt, prowling
red squirrels and weasels often find them out.
They are solitary birds, practically never seen
in flocks and usually alone, except in the nest-
ing season.

Downy Woodpecker. The relationship be-
tween Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers is very
apparent in form, color and habits. In fact the
Downy seems to be just a smaller prototype of
the Hairy, except for slight differences in mark-
ings of the plumage. With the Downy, the
outer tail feathers are white, barred with black,
while Hairy has no black on these feathers.
The male Downy also has the dash of red on the

WOODPECKERS 120

nape, which is lacking with the female. They
are about seven inches long.

The Downy is much oftener seen in the open
country about the lawns and parks of the city,
in the shade trees and orchards of the farm.
His gentle call, '' peek^ peek,'^ softer and more
pleasing, is a common sound in the springtime,
and is closely associated with his tapping which
consists of a long, continuous roll, very rapidly
executed on some dry, resonant limb, and audible
at considerable distance. This is his love note,
and that it is effective in securing a mate is
evidenced by the numerous families of young
Downies that will make their whereabouts
known to you by their almost continuous
squeaking cries for food as you make y^our way
about second-growth woods in late June. Since
they, too, are skillful wood cutters, the nest-
ing habits of the Downy are almost identical
with those of the Hairy. The eggs are usually
six in number.

The Downy is a more social fellow than his
larger cousin, being often seen in company with
Chickadees, Nuthatches and Brown Creepers.
He, too, is a great friend of the farmer, since he
searches out and destroys countless eggs and
grubs of insect pests. The larger part of the
tattooing seen on the trunks of old apple trees
is Downy's work, but instead of its being an
injury to the tree it is positive proof that he has
been doing his duty iri protecting the tree from
its too numerous enemies. Farmers are coming
to appreciate the value of these little assistants,
and now look upon them with approving eye.

130 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

They are permanent residents throughout their
range which extends from Florida to Labrador.

Arctic Three-toed Woodpecker. This bird
has a more northern range than the preced-
ing species, being rarely seen in the United
States, except in the extreme northeastern por-
tion. In winter they range somewhat farther
south, but are not then common birds. Since
they feed almost exclusively on the grubs which
work in decaying wood in the dead stubs, where
severe forest fires have raged, or the water in a
lake has been permanently raised, these birds
will be found nesting.

They are in size similar to the Hairy, but they
have only three toes, two in front, one behind.
The general color of the upper parts is shiny
black. There is a bright orange patch on the
crown of the male only, and the wings are
spotted and barred with white. The under parts
are white and there is a white line below the eye.
They are restless, active birds, rather shy ex-
cept while nesting. Their flight is rapid and
somewhat undulating, and their cry is a loud
shrill ^'we-e-a, we-e-a,^^ heard as they approach
and leave the nest. I found these birds nesting
in June near White Cap Mountain, and also in
the West Branch region in northern Maine.

American Three-toed Woodpecker. This is
another Northern resident, found in summer
only in the forest sections of our states which
border upon Canada, and northward to Lab-
rador. In the winter season they^ make short
southern movements to more civilized sections
where, occasionally, they may be seen about

WOODPECKERS 131

farms and orchards. This, too, is a three-toed
Woodpecker, often called the Ladder-back, a
name that is very significant, for his back is
distinctly barred with black and white. He,
too, has the orange patch on the crown, and the
black wings are spotted with white. The outer
tail feathers are black and white, and the sides
are barred with the same colors. The under
parts are white. The female does not have the
crown patch of orange.

The American Three-toed Woodpecker is more
silent than the Arctic variety and is not so com-
mon in the woods I have visited in summer. I
have more frequently seen them during their
short winter excursions to the farming sections
of Maine. Their nesting and feeding habits are
practically the same as those of their near rela-
tives, but they are about an inch shorter.

Pileated Woodpecker. Not only is this the
largest of our northern Woodpeckers, but in
many ways he is the most interesting because
of his wild nature, bold cries, and vigorous skill
as a wood cutter. He, too, is distinctly a den-
izen of the dense forests, and while formerly he
ranged well south in the eastern portions of the
country, I hear of him now only in the deep
woods. So tempting a target are they for the
hunter in the autumn woods, it appears that
they are lessening in numbers. I have found
them more abundant and tamer in the pine
forests of the South than in the spruce growth of
the North.

When making your way along some woodland
trail there will come to your ears a strange

132 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

sound for such a place, the noise of wood cut-
ting, a close imitation of the sound made when
striking a chisel with a mallet. If you listen for
a time you will also hear the cry of this wood-
land carpenter, as he ceases his labors momen-
tarily to send out his bold challenge; or is he
talking with himself? ^'Cack, cack, chuck, chuck,
chuck, chuck, hi, hi^^ he goes on, and if you are
so fortunate as to approach near enough to see
him, you will be surprised at the way he makes
the chips fly. His red-capped head rises and
falls with great precision and the sound of rip-
ping wood and bark is distinctly heard. The
exposed grub is quickly devoured, and away
goes this "Cock o' the Woods" in a direct
flight, with none of the wavy motion peculiar to
all other members of the family.

In the thick woods on the hill back of our
house, one day I found a hemlock tree where a
Pileated Woodpecker had lately worked, and
the sight was most surprising. There was a half
bushel of chips, some of them five inches long
and an inch wide, cut from the solid wood of
the tree which appeared to be entirely sound,
and was about sixteen inches in diameter. He
had cut eight holes clear to the heart, two of
which were eight inches long and four inches
wide, tapering inward. A careful inspection con-
vinced me that he was not seeking wood borers,
but that the tree was shaky at heart and black
ants had ascended to winter there. The holes
enabled him to reach these acrid insects as they
passed up and down between the shaky rings
near the heart of the tree. But what puzzled me

WOODPECKERS 133

then, as it does still, was this query: How did
he know this particular tree was shaky, for its
external appearance gave me no sign? I after-
ward found several dead trees gashed and cut
in his search for wood borers. Being less insec-
tiverous than most Woodpeckers, they also eat
cherries, acorns, beechnuts and berries of the
dogwood. They nest in a large hole far above
the ground, even as high as seventy-five feet.
The eggs are four to six in number.

This is a large bird, seventeen inches in length,
very striking in color. The upper parts are
dull blackish with much white on the neck,
and when he flies much white is seen on the
wings, the basal feathers of which are half
white. The whole top of the head is scarlet, so
much like the cap worn by the Roman soldiers,
called pileus, that it has given him the name
Pileated Woodpecker. The throat is white, the
under parts smoky gray. The female is without
the red crown.

Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. This bird seems to
have acquired among farmers, a bad reputation,
which, in a degree, he deserves. In addition to the
insects, eggs and grubs which he finds in the crevi-
ces of the bark, by drilling holes into the tree
which quickly fill with sap, he secures a delicacy of
which he is very fond. This habit has determined
his name. The sap attracts ants, flies and other
insects, so that when he returns for his fill of the
sweet liquid he can also regale himself upon these
more substantial morsels. He is said to have great
fondness for the inner layer of newly formed wood
fibre, the sapwood, which is soft and juicy.

134 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Sometimes these sap wells completely girdle
the trunk and the tree in consequence is killed.
We have had a good illustration close at hand
of what a family of sturdy young Sapsuckers
can do in the way of injuring a tree. Each sea-
son soon after the first of August, they have
attacked a cut-leaf birch on the lawn, drilling
many holes in the bark. It seemed the life of
the tree was in danger and at first we adopted
severe measures. But in later years we found
the danger could be avoided by wrapping the
trunk with burlap, not a difficult thing to do as
their attacks were usually made on the body
below the limbs. But it seems certain that had
we not taken measures to defend the tree it
would have been ruined. Even now it is much
disfigured.

It is said this is the only Woodpecker to catch
insects on the wing and he is quite expert at
fly catching. Not long ago I watched one of
these birds making frequent forays from his
perch in the treetops upon passing insects, I'ke
a veritable Flycatcher. The Yellow-bellied Sap-
sucker is a migrant that returns in early April
from a winter spent somewhere in a range ex-
tending from Virginia to Central America.
During migration and the mating and nesting
season that follows, they keep rather close to
the woods. But after the young are reared, they
are seen much in the open about parks, shade
trees, and orchards of the farm; in fact, wher-
ever there are deciduous trees. The male calls
his mate by beating a tattoo, but they have a
few vocal utterances. During migration and in

Courtesy of the Xalional Association of Audubon Societies

i-i.icki:k

WOODPECKERS 135

the open they are silent, but in the woods their
loud discordant screaming ^'kleur, kleur,^^ is oft
repeated.

This is a very handsome bird. The crown and
throat of the male are deep scarlet; the back is
marked with black and yellowish-white bars.
The breast has a black crescent; otherwise the
under parts are light yellow. The wings and
tail are barred and spotted with black, and a
white line passes from the bill below the eye,
broadening on the neck. With the female the
throat is white, the crown often black; other-
wise her dress is the same. They nest from
Massachusetts northward. They are about
eight and one-half inches long.

Flicker. This is a popular bird, for he is said
to be known under at least thirty-six different
names. The most common of these in the East
are Yellowhammer, Golden-winged Wood-
pecker, High-hole, Yarrup and Clape. He is a
vQivy handsome fellow, and a general favorite
with mankind. He possesses beautiful plumage,
gentle ways, attractive notes and interesting
habits, and is very tame. Often one comes
bounding into the trees about our house, and
sometimes they come quite close on the lawn.
So trustful and confident are they of man's
good intention toward them, in the South dur-
ing the winter I have been almost near enough to
reach them w^ith my hands. In the city parks
they are common, finding suitable nesting
places in tall trees there. Now, effort is being
made in many places to provide them with such
attractive homes that their numbers will increase.

136 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

The Flicker is a bird of the open, and, conse-
quently, is the best known of his family. As they
feed upon ants, like the Pileated, they are often
seen on the ground about decayinsr logs and
stumps, where they find a generous supply of
these insects. Sometimes Flickers visit the
fields in search of grain and berries; they also
feed upon nearly all insects within reach. Con-
sequently they are less given to drilling for
grubs than most Woodpeckers.

Their flight is deeply scalloped, a sort of
bounding process. They are great talkers and
their voluble conversations are very familiar
sounds in spring. When several birds meet, with
much bowing and scraping, a common note is a
low, melodious ^'wtck, wick, zvick.^^ Another
call is a rapidly repeated ^'chu, chu, chu, chu,
chu, chu/^ and a shrill ^'kee-yer, kee-yer,^^ is
more often heard in the fall. There are other
notes, all characteristic of this interesting sum-
mer visitor.

In plumage the Flicker is one of our hand-
somest birds, presenting a variety of beautiful
colors. The head and neck of the male are
bluish gray with a scarlet patch on the nape.
The back and wings are brownish with black
bars, the rump white. The under surface of the
wings and tail is yellow, the belly and sides light,
thickly spotted with black. There is a black
stripe on either side of the throat and a black
crescent on the breast. The female lacks the
black patch on the throat, but otherwise has
the same coloring. When at rest, the Flicker is
best known by the scarlet nape and black cres-

WOODPECKERS 137

cent on the breast. In flight an excellent field
mark is the white rump and the golden lining of
wings and tail. Their range in summer is west
to the Rocky Mountains and Alaska, from
North Carolina to northern Canada. They
winter from Massachusetts southward.

Red-headed Woodpecker. Sometimes in sum-
mer when passing through their haunts I
see from a railway train this conspicuously
marked Woodpecker, flying slowly along and
ahghting on some stub not far from the track;
and through the open window, even above the
din of the train, I hear his harsh ""' ker-ruck,^^
which has been likened to the cry of a treetoad.
This bird was unknown to me in Maine, except
by reputation, and he is not a common bird in
any part of New England. It is said they, too,
have fallen victims to the man with the gun,
seemingly the inevitable penalty for wearing
conspicuous dress. Mr. Burroughs speaks of
them as having been numerous as Robins about
Washington during the Civil War, but now they
are less abundant throughout their range.

This, too, is a very handsome bird, but less
beautiful than the Flicker. The head, neck,
throat and upper breast are deep red; the back,
rump and under parts white. The wings and
tail are bluish black, the wings with white bars
plainly seen in flight. Their appearance on the
wing is not unlike the European Magpie, except
that they are notably smaller. The Red-head
is about nine inches in length, the Magpie nearly
a foot.

This Woodpecker, too, feeds on grubs and

138 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

worms found in decaying wood, and he eats
fruits, as peaches, plums, grapes, and a variety
of berries and other vegetable kind. They
also feed upon nuts, acorns, beechnuts, and
they have the reputation of destroying the eggs
and young of other birds, something hard to be-
lieve in so tame and, withal, so gentle a bird.
They nest in old trees and sometimes in holes cut
in telephone poles; but, with the exception of the
Flicker, they seem less skillful in using their
bills than other members of the family. Both
male and female help at the work of excavating.
They are tame birds, seen about the city parks
and shade trees of the village, always conspic-
uous for their red, white and black.

Red-heads have the unusual habit of storing
up food, nuts of various kinds, in convenient
holes about wooden fences, and in the crevices
of the rough bark of certain trees. This supply
of food sometimes keeps them from migrating,
although the great majority spend the cold
months in Virginia and farther south. Their
summer range covers southern New England,
the middle and Southern States, and they are per-
manent residents in the southern portion of
their range, sometimes, as we have seen, even in
New York State.

Chapter X

WINTER COMRADES

Brown Creeper, Nuthatches, Tits,
Kinglets, Jay and Crow

"Winter comrades, well betide ye,
Friendly trunk and hollow hide ye.
Hemlock branches interlace,
When the northern blast gives chase. "

— Edith M. Thomas.

Brown Creeper. This little bird is the only
American representative of a family which num-
bers in all the world a dozen varieties, but he
may be regarded as typical of his kind. In the
Northern States he is found more frequently
in winter, and is probably a permanent resident
throughout that portion of his range.

I often iind Brown Creepers in the winter
woods in company with Chickadees, Nuthatches
and Kinglets, so busily searching the bark of
tree trunks for the eggs and larvae of various
insects that this seems their only purpose in
life, and the fact is they are rarely seen doing
anything else. From the foot of a tree he winds
his way upward in spirals, supported in his
course by the sharp spines of his tail feathers,
which he uses as a brace, like a Woodpecker.
The trunk searched to his satisfaction, down he
darts, with a faint metallic squeak, to the foot

130

140 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

of another and the same process goes on, hour
by hour, day by day. He is the symbol of dogged
persistency, and there is nothing joyous or
pleasing about him, except the fine harmony
between the colors of his back and the bark of
the trees he frequents. So perfect is the protec-
tive coloring that but for his jerky movements,
he would usually remain undiscovered.

The dark brown back is streaked with lighter
brown, the head and tail are light brown and
the under parts grayish white. The bill is long
and slightly curved. He is slightly less than six
inches long and rather slim.

During the nesting season it is said they sing
a dainty little song of five or six notes, wild,
sweet and very tender, which I have not heard.
Their accustomed haunt in summer is ever-
green woods where there are stubs and dead
trees, behind the loose bark of which the nest is
placed. It is loosely made of twigs, bits of bark
and moss, and sometimes with spiders' cocoons.
The eggs, five to eight in number, are waxy
white with fine brown spots on the larger end.
They range in summer from Maine and Minne-
sota northward, farther south on the moun-
tains, and winter from Maine southward.

Nuthatches. These birds are also creepers
and climbers, but they do not use the tail
feathers as a brace. Up and down they go, like
acrobats, now running along the under side of
a limb like a fly, now scrambling down the trunk,
head first, in feats that would put to shame the
most agile Woodpecker. These very active
little workers receive the name Nuthatch from

WINTER COMRADES 141

the habit of placing a nut in a cranny or crevice
of the bark and hatching it, i. e.y breaking it by
striking with the bill, a process I have never
witnessed. We have four varieties of this family
in eastern North America, two of which are
common.

White-breasted Nuthatch. This attractive
bird is more often seen in the open during the
fall and winter when he is common in parks,
along the roadside, and about the farm, always
on a tree. He, too, is social when not nesting,
and is seen in company with Chickadees, King-
lets and Creepers, his presence made known by
a nasal ''yank, yank, yank,^^ a peculiar and
highly interesting sound, wholly unlike the
notes of any other variety. This is the largest
of our Nuthatches, slightly more than six inches
long. Its distinct colors are rather attractive.
The back is a fine slate blue, the top of the head
and upper neck black; the dark slate wings are
edged with black. The sides of the head and
under parts are white with white markings on
wings and tail.

They have long pointed bills, well suited for
the careful inspection of the crevices of the
rough bark where they find their food, worms,
grubs, spiders, ants, beetles, and the eggs and
larvae of tree-infesting insects. Thus it will be
seen that these little "circus birds" are very
helpful to man, for they assist him in preserving
his trees, whether of forest, orchard or lawn.
They are always willing workers and never
strike for higher pay. Does it not seem rather
strange that man has not risen to a higher ap-

142 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

preciation of the valuable service of these con-
stant helpers ?

These birds are not so well equipped for wood
cutting as are the Woodpeckers, and, in conse-
quence, they often nest in the deserted holes of
these carpenters; or they excavate their own
chamber in a limb of some hardwood tree, so
decayed as to make the work easy. The nest is
made of fine bark, moss and feathers, a soft rest-
ing place for the five or six tiny white eggs.
They are found in eastern North America from
the Gulf to New Brunswick, and are generally
resident throughout this territory, except in
the northern portion.

Red-breasted Nuthatch. This Nuthatch has
a more northerly range than his larger rela-
tive, and therefore is not a common bird in the
Eastern States, except in winter. He is notably
smaller, only about four and one-half inches
long, and is easily told by his reddish brown
breast and the white stripe over the eye. Other-
wise his colors are much like those of the White-
breasted. Their nesting and feeding habits are
much the same, but the Red-breasted also
enjoy the seeds of fir and spruce cones, which
they skillfuly extract with their sharp bills;
consequently they are seen about the evergreen
forests where their highly nasal cries, ''yak,
yak, yak, " are much in evidence. They are
noisy fellows and their drawling notes, if pa-
tiently followed up, will often lead one to the
nest.

Their usual nesting haunts are the dark woods
where they excavate for themselves a chamber

WINTER COMRADES 143

in some well decayed fir or spruce stub. They
range in summer from Manitoba and Maine
northward, wintering from northern United
States southward. Mr. Knight says he has good
reason to believe that these birds remain mated
year after year, a very interesting fact, if true.
Another little Nuthatch, known as the Brown-
headed, is found in the South, particularly in
the pine barrens of the Carolinas where I have
often found them in winter. In color they are
similar to the Red-breasted, except that the
head is brown; their habits are much the same.

Tufted Titmouse. Classed in the same gen-
eral family with the Nuthatches is another dis-
tinct sub-family, the Tits or Chickadees, of
which we have four varieties in eastern Xorth
America. The Tufted Tit is a rather common
bird, of general distribution in his range which
is from northern New Jersey south to the Gulf
States. He is easily known by the prominent
tuft or crest which gives him his name, and his
common notes, ^^peto, peto, peto^^ heard at all
hours of the day. He also utters a '' de-de-de-de^''
so much like the notes of his more northern
cousin, the Chickadee, as to plainly indicate
the relationship. In pose and movement this
bird seems a miniature Blue Jay, but it is more
given to sociability. In winter they are in flocks,
and when insects are not to be had they feed
upon nuts and seeds which they easily crack
with their strong bills.

Their chief color is a pale ashy gray; the
wings and tail are darker and the forehead is
black. The under parts are whitish, washed

144 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

with brown on the sides. Like Nuthatches,
they nest in deserted holes of Woodpeckers,
rarely excavating their own chambers. Some-
times they nest in bird houses. They are about
six and one-half inches in length. They are
usually permanent residents throughout their
range.

Chickadee. A very attractive little fellow in
song, dress and habits is the friendly Chick-
adee, or Black-capped Titmouse. When the
storms of winter have covered the earth in a
heavy mantle of white and the chill winds blow
drearily through the' leafless trees, this hardy
little citizen is much in evidence, for severe
weather conditions seem to have no terrors for
him. Then their sprightly notes are heard about
the farmhouse and in the park; and so fearless
are they that with little encouragement they will
come close about your habitation.

In truth, with a little cultivation. Chickadees
may be made so friendly and fearless that they
will light upon hat or hand, even feeding upon
a morsel held between the lips. Mr. Harold
Baynes relates some most interesting experi-
ences of this kind.

In winter you will come upon a band of Chick-
adees, merrily searching the trunk, branches,
even the cones and needles of evergreens for the
eggs and grubs of insects, which comprise their
food. They, too, are excellent acrobats, climb-
ing about like spiders, now clinging to the under
side of a limb, now hanging, head downward,
never stopping their work except to utter their
happy ^Uhick-a-dee-dee-dee,^^ which so clearly

WINTER COMRADES 143

proclaims their identity that one never mistakes
them. It often seems to me they cheer and
encourage one another at their dreary work with
their glad notes; and cheering they need, for
their lot, constant labor in the chill atmosphere,
is anything but an easy one. This same char-
acteristic, however, one notes in all the tiny
midgets that brave the region of our Northern
winter. No wonder that Emerson said of him:

"This scrap of valor just for play
Fronts the north wind in waistcoat gray,
As if to show my weak behavior."

Besides the usual notes which have deter-
mined the bird's name, it has a variety of trills
and calls, all of which are pleasant sounds, some
of them very pleasing. One is a sweet, plaintive
little strain which I more often hear in the
spring when the mating season approaches:
*'' s-w-e-e-t hearty swe-e-t heart^' of which Mr.
Cheney says: *' Never were purer tones heard
on earth."

The dress of the Chickadee, like that of most
northern dwellers, is rather fluffy, and although
not brilliant in color it is really attractive. The
most striking feature is the glossy black cap.
The back is slaty gray, the tail darker. The
chin is black, the throat and under parts whitish,
the upper neck and cheeks snow white. It is
slightly more than five inches long.

Chickadees nest in a hole either dug by them-
selves or cut by a Downy, often only a few feet
above the ground. In such a chamber is built a
nest of bits of birch bark, wood fibre and plant

146 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

down, lined with feathers, a safe place for the
six to eight tiny white eggs spotted with brown.
Last spring, one day while fishing in the Never-
sink, a Chickadee flew to a birch tree near me,
with something white in his bill, which he quickly
dropped and disappeared. In a moment, back he
came similarly laden. This he repeated several
times, and finally I traced him to a small maple
stub where the pair were excavating a hole for the
nest, not more than eighteen inches from the
ground. The dead wood was all carried away,
evidently in order that its presence about the
stub should not betray the location of the nest.

Chickadees range in summer over eastern
North America from Pennsylvania to Labrador.
In winter they make a southern movement,
but are permanent residents in New England
and the Middle States where they are more
numerous in the fall and winter. As they usually
nest in the woods they are not often seen in the
open until the young are grown.

Carolina Chickadee. A smaller variety, scarcely
more than four inches long is called the Caro-
lina Chickadee. They are much like the above
in dress, with somewhat less white on the wings
and tail. Their range is from southern New
Jersey southward. In the pinelands of the Caro-
linas where I find them in winter, their habits
in feeding seem much the same, but their ^'chicka-
dee''' notes are pitched higher and several of
their calls are not uttered by the Black-cap.

Hudsonian Chickadee. From northern Maine
northward there is found, usually in dense
woods, another member of this family known

WINTER COMRADES 147

as the Hudsonian Chickadee. They differ in
plumage from our common Chickadee in hav-
ing a brown cap, and brown on the sides, with
a brownish tinge on the back. They are about
the same in length and their notes are somewhat
similar in quality, particularly the '' dee-dee-
dock'' they utter as they feed. I find them in
the region about the Pleasant River in the
Maine woods, and about Mt. Katahdin.

Golden-crowned Kinglet. In fall or winter,
when making your way among evergreen trees,
whether it be in park or forest lands, you
will at times hear high-pitched, wiry sounds, so
fine that they seem to come from some insect
that has escaped the clutches of Jack Frost.
If you are not in a hurry and will take pains to
follow up these shrill notes, you will find well
up in the branches of the evergreens, flitting and
darting about in a manner not unlike Warblers
in summer, tiny birds with bright-colored
crowns, that are always on the move. These
are the Kinglets, two winter visitors that belong
to a family quite distinct from the Chickadees
and Nuthatches, yet are often found in their
company. The more common of these midgets is
the Golden-crowned, so named from the patch
of bright yellow on its crown. The upper parts
are olive-green, with dusky wings and tail. On
each side of the crown patch are black lines,
and there is a whitish line over the eye. The
under parts are grayish white.

These tiny sprites are scarcely more than
four inches long, one of the smallest of our
birds. They are unafraid, and seem engaged in a

148 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

never ending search for food. That such small
creatures can withstand the terrible cold of a
northern winter is one of the unexplained
mysteries of Nature. Yet they work away in the
biting cold, apparently as happy as Chickadees,
now examining the bark at the foot of a tree,
now among its limbs, clinging to the tips of
the branches like Chickadees, but even more
restless and hurried. So rapidly do they move
about, one needs to be very alert to catch a
glimpse of their bright crowns through the
glasses.

The notes of the Golden-crowned Kinglet are,
as we have seen, shrill and wiry, 'Hse, tse^ tse^
ti, ti, ti,^^ not highly musical but very welcome
in the season so barren of bird song. They nest
from northern New England northward, usually
in the evergreen forest. The nest, a well built
and exceedingly beautiful structure, is made of
fine bark, rootlets and moss, lined with feathers.
It is usually placed high above the ground, and
is pensile or semi-pensile. The tiny eggs, eight
to ten in number, are creamy white, spotted
and blotched with brown. The summer range
of the Golden-crowned is from northern United
States to Labrador, and southward along the
Appalachian and Rocky Mountains. It winters
from the southern portion of its breeding range
south to Central America.

Ruby-crowned Kinglet. The general appear-
ance of this bird is so much like its cousin that
I am never sure of its identity unless I can
see its bright red crown or the two whitish wing
bars. Otherwise its colors are much like the

WINTER COMRADES 149

Golden-crowned, and it is slightly larger. But
if you can hear its song in the springtime there
will be no doubt of its identity, for the vocal
performance is all its own. Never shall I forget
that spring morning in early May when I first
heard this wild, sweet song. At an early hour as
I was making my way across an old pasture
toward a patch of dense woods in quest of birds,
there came to me far across the open, from a
dense beech and birch growth at the edge of the
forest, a thrilling, beautiful song, wholly strange
to my ear, ^'cher'-o-wee, che/-o-wee, cher'-o-wee,^^
loud, full, and clear. Hastening in the direction
of the song I searched a long time for the per-
former but finally found him, seeing through
the glasses even his splendid red crown. Though
it was several years ago, that morning stands out
distinctly in memory. These Kinglets also have
fine, wiry call notes, not unlike those of the
Golden-crowned.

The feeding and nesting habits of this variety
are much the same as with the preceding.
Their summer range is rather farther north, but
a few nest in Maine. In winter they range from
North Carolina southward. I have never found
them during the migration so common as the
Golden-crowTied, and I am inclined to believe
they are not so numerous.

Blue Jay. A winter wanderer of great prom-
inence because of his gaudy colors and vocif-
erous cries is the Blue Jay. He belongs to the
same family as the Crows, a group of birds
found in all parts of the world except New Zea-
land. The Blue Jay is an excellent example of

150 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

the truth of the old adage, "fine feathers do not
make fine birds"; for notwithstanding his hand-
some suit, one of the most strikingly beautiful
of the bird world, he seems to be bad at heart,
often bent on mischief that has a tragic ending.

During nesting time, like Crowds, they are
strangely silent birds, especially in the vicinity
of their nests, which I find more commonly
among evergreen trees. At that season, scarcely
a sound do you hear, and if you invade their
precincts you merely catch glimpses of them as
they silently steal about the treetops. But if
you venture near their nest then will your pres-
ence be proclaimed in terms loud and emphatic,
and if you persist, they will dash at you with a
harsh '"'zv-a-a^ w-a-a,^^ almost striking you with
their beaks.

When the nesting is over and the young
grown large enough to join in the mischief, Mr.
Jay is a very different fellow, although he is
probably just the same at heart. Now he is
the alarmist of the woods, the sentinel on the
watch to notify all the denizens of the neigh-
borhood of the approach of danger, be it man,
Hawk, Owl, or any one of the numerous mar-
auders in fur. His harsh ''jay, jay, jay^^ is far
reaching, and many a still hunter on the trail
of a fat buck has muttered imprecations at this
noisy fellow who so plainly told the deer of im-
pending danger that he fled the country in
great haste, relying implicitly upon the infor-
mation conveyed in the Jay's message.

It is the question of food that leads the Blue
Jay into trouble and gives him a bad name.

WINTER COMRADES 151

Not satisfied with a diet of mice, shrews, bugs
of various kinds, berries, grain, nuts, etc., they
eat the eggs and nestlings of other birds, even
killing the parents if they offer too strenuous
objection to these depredations. The truth is
they are natural thieves and marauders.

The vocabulary of the Blue Jay is an exten-
sive one, and not only do they voice their own
characteristic calls, but they closely imitate
other birds, especially the Red-shouldered and
Red-winged Hawks, Catbird, etc. Sometimes
you will hear a tremendous row in the woods,
with just enough intelligible Jay talk to give
them away. Follow up the din, and you will
find a pack of Jays mobbing an Owl, harassing
the poor creature whose eyesight is defective in
daytime, till he is quite beside himself. But
when he alights and faces his tormentors they
keep beyond the reach of his well armed feet
and bill. Owl baiting is a favorite amusement
with these feathered bullies.

The plumage of the Blue Jay is grayish blue
above, dusky white below. The wings and tail
are bright blue with black bars, many feathers
having white tips. The prominent crest is blue
and there is a black stripe somewhat irregular
in form extending from the back of the head
down the sides of the neck and across the breast.
The bill and legs are black. This bird is a foot
long. The nest is made of sticks well woven
together, and is placed some distance from the
ground. The very pretty eggs are pale green,
thickly mottled with brown. I'hcir range extends
from Florida to Newfoundland and they are

152 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

generally common throughout as permanent
residents.

Canada Jay. A very interesting bird com-
mon enough in the great woods of the Northern
States and Canada, but practically unknown
in the open country, is the Canada Jay. Among
the lumbermen who know him intimately he is
called by a variety of names, Moose Bird, Meat
Hawk and Whiskey Jack being the most com-
mon. When hunting big game in the deep wilder-
ness, you may travel for days without seeing
one of these birds; but no sooner have you
killed a deer or moose and begun to dress the
carcass than they appear to you as though they
had been following you closely, waiting for a
successful issue to your quest. One wonders at
their sudden appearance on silent wing, and no
less remarkable is their utter fearlessness. So
close do they come and so insistent are they in
their efforts to share with you the spoils of the
hunt that they seem impertinent, and almost
stupid.

The explanation of their unusual boldness is
probably found in the fact that being dwellers
in the thick woods, away from the haunts of
man, like the Grouse of the same locality, they
have not as yet suffered greatly at his hands,
and consequently have not developed fear of
him. It is rather a sad commentary upon the
attitude of man toward the feathered creatures
that, without doubt, did the Canada Jay live in
the open country, he would become in a short
time as shy and fearful as the great majority of
our familiar birds.

WINTER COMRADES 15S

The food of the Canada Jay is everything in
the line of meat that may be found around the
camps of hunters and lumbermen, even candles,
salt pork and soap being quite within the range
of their appetites. They eat bird's eggs, young
birds, mice, and other rodents, in fact practi-
cally everything in the animal kingdom they
may lay bill to, besides acorns and beechnuts.
Notwithstanding their omniverous appetites,
it is still a deep mystery to me how these birds
can secure enough food of any kind to sustain
life in the terrible cold of the six-months-long
winter. And when we consider that they nest
in early March and their young are reared
while yet the cruel grip of the Arctic cold
is unbroken, the mystery becomes even
greater. The answer to this problem will come
on closer acquaintance with their nesting habits,
to be gained only by some trained observer who
has the hardihood to brave the region of the
north woods at that forbidding season. Per-
haps the memory of gaunt hunger unsatisfied,
has led to one peculiar habit of this bird, the
storing for future use of any kind of food it
chances upon in excess of its immediate needs.

The Canada Jay has rather a fluify appear-
ance, due to the thick coat of feathers it wears.
It is slightly longer than the Blue Jay and the
colors are much less conspicuous. The back is
slate gray. The back of the head and nape of
the neck are jet black, the throat, breast and
forehead white. The gray feathers of the wings
and tail are tipped with white. They have a
variety of harsh calls, the most common of

154 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

which is a disagreeable " ca-ca-ca.'^ The roughly-
built nest of bark, twigs and moss is usually
placed in a thick-topped spruce or fir tree, some
distance from the ground. The eggs are usually
four in number, grayish, spotted and splashed
with brown and slate colors. They are perma-
nent residents throughout their range.

Common Crow. There are few birds about
which public opinion has been so much at vari-
ance as the Common Crow. Formerly farmers
almost universally condemned him as the great-
est of mischief makers, an unmitigated nuisance,
because of his persistent pulling of sprouting
com and other seeds in spring, and the destruc-
tion he worked in the com and potato fields and
in the garden in fall. Among the farmers of my
acquaintance there has been a great change of
sentiment in recent years toward this sombre-
hued bird for two reasons. It has been learned
that by soaking the seed corn, peas, etc., in a
solution of tar water, or any one of several
chemicals, they are rendered so unpalatable that
Mr. Crow never repeats the performance. Farm-
ers have also learned through various sources,
chiefly from information sent out by the Depart-
ment of Agriculture at Washington, that the
crow is a very valuable adjunct to their labors
because of the great number of pests he destroys,
mice, June bugs and their larvae, cutworms,
grasshoppers, potato bugs, etc., thereby adding
substantially to the bounty of the crops.

To be sure, Crows still work more or less
damage, particularly in the fall, and they
destroy the eggs and young of various song

WINTER COMRADES 155

birds; but striking a balance between the good
and evil wrought, they will be found to be real
friends, whose presence, after all, is of material
advantage to the farmer.

Entirely apart from the utilitarian view is
the sentimental side of the Crow's case. Per-
sonally I have found him a very interesting and
profitable object for observation and close
study. They seem to know a great deal about
man's ways and habits of thought, particularly
where their own safety is concerned. If, gun in
hand, you approach a flock of Crows busily
feeding in the field, the sentinel (there is always
one posted on some prominent lookout) w^ill give
the alarm and away will go the whole band long
before you are within gun shot. Leave the gun
behind and you can get so near you can almost
hit them with stones or a stick. Riding or driv-
ing along a country road, you can approach
within a few rods, especially in the spring when
they first put in an appearance. Usually noisy
enough, when on mischief bent and in the
neighborhood of their nests, they are silence
itself. But let a band chance upon an Owl, be-
wildered by the daylight, they proceed at once
to mob him, raising a clamor that is heard a
mile away. Crow ways are mysterious, perhaps
past man's finding out, but I know of no bird
that promises more in the way of variety and
the unexpected in its traits, so that the student
will find in this many-sided bird much that will
repay close and protracted observation.

Crows usually mate in March, and in April
is built the nest of coarse sticks lined with moss

150 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

and feathers, usually in the thick top of a tall
evergreen tree in deep woods. The handsome,
mottled, green and brown eggs are usually five
or six in number. The dress of the Crow is jet
black, even to the feet, legs and bill. He is a
walking bird, with an expression of independ-
ence in his gait that is quite amusing. In my
boyhood they were the first comers of the bird
army, a herald of the spring whose appearance
we eagerly looked for. At that season their fine
black coats were really attractive on the bare
brown patches where the snow had melted. I
have a real affection for the Crow and should
sadly miss him, particularly in fall and spring.

Chapter XI
THRASHERS AND WRENS
Catbird, Thrasher, Mockingbird, Wrens

"Tragic, comic actor thou,
For thy stage an alder bough;
Now some borrowed joyous note
Pouring from thy feigning throat.
Now from wailing puss in sorrow,
Her alarm cry thou dost borrow. "

— The Catbird, M. J. Savage.

This family is composed of two subdivisions,
Thrashers and Wrens, quite unHke in nearly all
respects. The former is a numerous American
group, while the Wrens are well represented in
the Old World. Among the Thrashers are some
of our best singers, as the Catbird and Mock-
ingbird. Some of the Wrens, too, are very
musical; but the family as a whole is noted for
being nervous and excitable and giving utter-
ance to their bad tempers in rather harsh, scold-
ing notes. They are very interesting birds and
both groups will well repay careful study.

Catbird. This is the northern Mockingbird,
and while less famed for his skill as a vocalist
than his cousin of the south, yet at his best he
is one of our most delightful performers. The
Catbird is rather an anomaly, a sort of Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde among birds. One can
scarcely imagine a more disagreeable sound than

167

158 BIRDS OF FIELD. FOREST AND PARK

the catcall of this bird when he is disturbed, even
in the slightest degree. You feel like hurling
something at him that will send him beyond
ear shot and you are quite disgusted with him.
But if you curb your impatience and, calming
your ruffled feelings, remain quiet for a time in
the thicket where his nest is, he will forget your
presence and you will be quite charmed with
his performance.

His lay is rather low, but melodious, and
some of his notes are exceedingly fine. You may
think there is a lack of spirit about it, as though
the bird were not prompted to sing so much
from the joyousness of his heart as from a desire
to have some part in the chorus about him.
His song is a strange mixture of the notes, calls
and songs of other birds, rendered in his own,
inimitable way. He is a very successful mocker,
reproducing the notes of Thrush, Sparrow,
Wren, or Warbler in so perfect a manner as to
quite deceive one for the instant. But listen a
moment longer and he gives himself away, for,
after all, he has an individuality all his own
which he cannot long conceal. And when it is
over you wonder what it was all about, for
there seems to be a lack of theme, of motif, as
it were; yet there are parts which are so wild
and sweet as to quite delight one.

The Catbird is a citizen of the garden, the
shrubbery of the parks, and the alder and hazel
bushes that overgrow the river bank. When I
wish to spend an hour in his society I quietly
paddle along the shore close to the bushes, and
I always find him. In June his nest is found

Thrashers and x^^rens 169

this way; later the young will be seen skulking
about the thick tangle, rather nervous at your
approach.

He is a sleek, well groomed bird, giving one
the impression of bathing frequently and spend-
ing much time in arranging his attractive dress.
Attractive it is, although just a plain slate color,
trimmed with black on the crown and tail.
The under parts are slaty ^ray and under the
tail there is a chestnut patch. The long tail,
usually held at a smart angle, he makes good
use of, flourishing it to express his varying
emotions much as a speaker does his arms, or a
lady her fan. They are tame birds, even in-
clined to be friendly, and a little encourage-
ment will bring them close about the house,
even to the veranda, for tempting morsels.

In my experience. Catbirds are associated
with the river banks, where I find several nests
each season. The nest, set in thick bushes, is
made of rather coarse twigs, grass and leaves,
well interwoven. The eggs, five or six in num-
ber, are a beautiful bluish green in color. The
parents display a care and solicitude for their
young that is not exceeded in any of our birds.
Perhaps the alarm felt at the approach of danger
is in proportion to the intensity of their parental
love; hence the emphasis of their squalling
notes. They nest as far north as southern Can-
ada and winter from Florida southward. They
arrive toward the end of April.

Brown Thrasher. The BrowTi Thrasher, or
Brown Thrush, as he is more commonly but
erroneously called, is quite the opposite to the

160 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Catbird in his song and habits, as well as in
dress. The latter, as we have seen, sings from
the midst of the tangled thicket about his nest,
and in low tones. The Thrasher is impelled by
no such feeling of modesty. From the topmost
limb of the tallest tree, he pours out his wonder-
ful lay, and he repeats it to make sure that you
do not miss a single note.

"That's the wise Thrush; he sings each song twice over.
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!"

sang the poet, and the thought is very sugges-
tive of the manner of this bold performer.
Some interpret the Thrasher's song as a bit of
excellent advice to the farmer:

"Shuck it, shuck it; sow it, sow it;
Plough it, plough it; hoe it, hoe it!"

These words suit well the measures of his notes.

There is much about the song that will remind
you of the Catbird, but the Thrasher, as we
have seen, repeats his notes. There is a com-
mon belief that the Thrasher, too, is a mocker,
but this is a false impression, so far as I have
observed. To me, his song seems quite his own,
with a similarity in several particulars to the
notes of other singers and yet wholly charac-
teristic. When singing the bird seems fully
absorbed in the effort, as though filled with
emotion which demands expression through his
vocal capabilities.

Although so conspicuous when singing, the
Brown Thrasher is rather a shy bird at other

THRASHERS AND WRENS 161

times. You will catch a glimpse of his fine brown
dress as he dives from his song perch into the
thicket, or as he darts in and out, close to the
ground, in the alder and hazel tangle where he
nests. He seems rather restless and easily
alarmed, indicating his dislike for your pres-
ence by a loud ''smack,'' which is the most
emphatic alarm note I hear among song birds.
If you quietly enter his bush-grown bower you
may see him hopping and running about on the
ground, flirting and flourishing his very promi-
nent tail, like a Wren, as he searches for grubs,
beetles and other insects, which, in the early
part of the summer, constitute a large part of
his food. Later he enjoys a change of food, pre-
ferring cherries, berries and many wild fruits.

They build, on or near the ground, a bulky
nest of twigs, leaves and bark, lined with fine
rootlets. The four or five eggs are white, thickly
and evenly sprinkled with cinnamon-brown.
The Brown Thrasher is about a foot long and is
A very handsome bird. The upper parts of his
dress are beautiful cinnamon-brown; the under
parts are w^hite, heavily spotted and streaked
with dark brown, except at the throat and
middle of the belly. The tail is long, wide, and
drooping w^hen singing. The eyes are yellow,
the bill long and slightly curved. They range in
summer over eastern North America as far
north as Montreal and Manitoba, and winter
from North Carolina, southward.

Mockingbird. This wonderful singer holds the
same place in the hearts of those people who
have had the good fortune to live within its

162 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

zone of song as the Hermit holds in the hearts
of New Englanders. Writers of prose and poetry-
have exhausted their vocabularies in the effort
to do full justice to this master of song; but
words fail to convey an adequate impression of
his utterances. Many years a^o, one day when
driving in Virginia from Williamsburg to the
site of old Jamestown, in passing through a
patch of second growth, I heard a song that
instantly arrested my attention. Immediately
I knew it for the song of the Mockingbird; for
there is in its varied notes much of the quality
that characterizes all the members of this family,
although its range is all its own. The songs of
many birds are drawn upon, but the style is
much like the Thrasher, and the effect is most
delightful. From all I have heard and read
about the Mockingbird's song, I conclude that
to realize the full effect of its wonderful expres-
sion, one should hear it in the misty moonlight
when the peach trees are in blossom. Under
these conditions it must be entrancing.

Often I have met these birds during the win-
ter season, but then they are for the most part
silent, and their call notes when heard are
almost as harsh as those of the Catbird. When
perched, in appearance they are much like the
Loggerhead Shrike, but they are not nearly so
sleek, and the tail is longer and more drooping.
The upper parts are ashy gray, the wings and
tail blackish. There is considerable white on the
wing coverts, and the tail feathers and under
parts are whitish. They are about ten and one-
half inches in length.

THRASHERS AND WRENS 168

The nest of twigs and grass, lined with hair,
rootlets, cotton, etc., is placed in a low bush of
thicket or hedgerow, often in the shrubbery of
the lawn. The eggs are pale blue or green,
spotted and blotched with brown. So tame are
these birds that they are about the street, parks,
and lawns of Southern cities, and on the plan-
tation they are as friendly and trustful as the
Robins in the North. They are usually perma-
nent residents except in the extreme northern
portion of their wide range, which extends from
Mexico to Illinois and northern New Jersey,
even to Maine as accidental visitors. They
winter from Virginia southward.

Carolina Wren. This, the largest of our
Wrens, is usually a Southern dweller, as the
name implies, that sometimes ventures north-
ward even to Maine. They are found nesting
in southern New England, but only rarely. In
the Southern States they are permanent resi-
dents, and very welcome little neighbors they
make, for they are one of the very few families
that sing all winter, and their song is quite
meritorious. I have found them in the winter
about the farm buildings, even under the ve-
randa and about the woodpile, where they hail
the sunrise with their tuneful ''whee-udel, whee-
udel, whee-udel.^^ This little minstrel Is an all-
day singer, but he is by no means confined to a
single lay, for his repertoire includes a variety
of tunes, whistles and calls that have caused
him to be called the Mocking Wren, although
he is probably not a true mocker.
. Like all his family, he is a restless sprite,

164 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

dodging in and out of holes, cracks and crevices
of rocks and logs in the woods, where he usually
dwells. He comes about the homes of man more
commonly in winter.

The Carolina Wren is rather an attractive
bird in dress, with upper parts rufous, the wing
and tail feathers finely barred with black.
There is a whitish line over the eye and whitish
spots on the wings. The under parts are creamy
bufiF, lighter on the throat. This Wren is five
and one-half inches lon^.

The nest is placed in an old log, stump, wood-
pile or brush heap. It is made of grass, leaves
and twigs, and lined with rootlets, fine grass,
etc. The eggs, four to six in number, are creamy
white with fine brown spots. The Carolina Wren
nests from the Gulf States to northern Illinois
and southern Connecticut.

House Wren. This little bird is a pronounced
lover of man, for in the East, at least, it is
almost always found nesting in his immedi-
ate vicinity. I have never known of this bird
as a woods dweller, although its cousin, the
Winter Wren, as we shall see, is always an in-
habitant of the forest. The House Wren comes
close about you, preferring to occupy a cozy
little bird-house you have erected for it. But
in the absence of so convenient a place, he will
be content with a tin can, crevice in a building,
hole in a fence rail or log, a beam under the
veranda, an old shoe, or the pocket of a gar-
ment. In fact any place will do that meets the
bird's notion of safety. Once well located, they
will return year after year, inclining one to the

THRASHERS AND WRENS 1C."»

belief that they remain permanently mated.

This Wren sings at its work. Whether house
building, house cleaning, or tending the nest-
lings, its jolly song may be heard as though
labor were a constant delight. But sweet tem-
pered as he usually is, he is easily disturbed and
becomes a little shrew, scolding angrily. This
happens when Jay, Cowbird, or other neighbor
in feathers, or squirrel, becomes too neighborly.

The song of the House Wren is very sweet
and tender, sung with a zest which completely
dominates the tiny creature. It is heard through-
out the day, interrupted frequently by house-
hold cares and love making, for they are very
affectionate midgets. Much time is also spent
in policing the immediate vicinity of their
home, for they are jealous guardians of what
seems to them to be their exclusive domains.

The bulky nest is made of twigs and grass.
The eggs are six to eight in number, creamy
white, spotted with brown. Their plumage is
dark brown above, minutely barred with
blackish. The under parts are gray with brown-
ish washings. The tail is erect, the bill rather
long and sharp. They range locally in summer
as far north as Manitoba and Maine, wintering
from South Carolina southward. It seems the
increase of English Sparrows has driven the
House Wren from many of its former haunts.

Winter Wren. This tiny woods sprite I have
not had the good fortune to see during the
spring migration. In the great woods of northern
Maine we find them common enough when we
go there on our annual fishing trip in midsum-

166 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

mer. It is not quite easy for one living in New
England to see why they are called Winter
Wrens, as that is the season when they are not
in evidence. But in the Middle States they
spend the season of cold, so perhaps from that
viewpoint they are correctly named.

This Wren has a pretty suit of brown, finely
barred with black on the wings and tail, with
concealed light spots. The under parts are light
washed with brownish, the sides and breast
somewhat barred with black. The tail is erect,
giving the bird the appearance of being much
shorter than he really is, and his entire length
from tip of bill to end of tail feathers is but a
trifle more than four inches.

The Winter Wren is a very pert and active
bird, darting like a huge bee in and out the
brush heaps, stopping to look at you, with a
queer little bobbing motion, as though his legs
were coiled steel wire. If you chance upon his
large family when they are first out of the nest,
your amusement will be great. Last year we
saw them rowed along a mossy log, tended by
the parents, who were evidently giving them
their first lesson in woodcraft. They watched
us for some time, bobbing all the while on their
tiny legs, then slipped away into the moss and
leaves, evidently thinking us suspicious char-
acters to be avoided.

The nest is built of small twigs and moss,
lined with feathers, usually placed in an old
stump, in the moss at the foot of a tree, or per-
haps in a brush heap. The four to ten eggs,
scarcely larger than peas, are creamy white
speckled with reddish brown.

LONG-r.ILIJ:i) MARSH WRKX

THRASHERS AND WRENS 167

Interesting as the Winter Wren is in plumage
and habits, it is as a singer that he is known to
fame, for his song is one of the great delights
that comes to one in the wilderness. It is wild,
rich, tinkling, a mountain rill. Thoreau says of
one he heard in the Franconia Notch: "It was
surprising for its steady and uninterrupted
flow, for when one stopped, another took up
the strain. It reminded me of a fine, corkscrew
stream, issuing with incessant lisping tinkle
from a cork, flowing rapidly; and I said he had
pulled out the sp'le and left it running. That
was the rhythm, but with a sharper tinkle, of
course. " I sometimes hear him called the
"fiddlin' bird," and think the name very appro-
priate. They nest from the Northern States
northward, and along the Alleghenies, wintering
from New England to Florida.

Long-billed Marsh Wren. In swamps that
are overgrown with reeds, and in the cat-tails
that border marsh, lake and stream, you will
find in the summertime a little Wren, whose
acquaintance you will not make unless you
visit his haunts, for he seldom ventures forth
except during migration. This is the Long-
billed Marsh Wren, as much a part of the
marsh he inhabits as the reeds and rushes them-
selves. When you undertake to pay him a
friendly visit, the chances are that you will be
greeted by harsh ''cacks'^ that indicate ill humor
at being disturbed. But if you compose your-
self in patience for a time, the ill temper dis-
appears, and you may hear his quaint song, a
bubbling, tremulous little melody, that reminds

168 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

you of the lay of his cousin, the House Wren.
It is rather wild and a trifle harsh, but, withal,
pleasing.

The nesting habits of this nervous midget
are exceedingly interesting. They build a globe-
shaped structure of grass and rushes, attached
to reeds or bushes, with the entrance at the side
like the opening of a pocket. But this restless
creature does not stop with building a single
nest, although it can occupy but one. It seems
that its uncurbed energies compel constant
activity, and the male goes on building other
nests, sometimes a half dozen or more, while
his mate is hatching the brood. The reason for
this has occasioned much speculation among
ornithologists and scientists, the generally ac-
cepted theory being that the extra nests are
built as a means of protection to the sitting
mate, as the number lessens the chances that
an enemy will find the real home. This is a very
interesting explanation, but I can but doubt the
ability of these birds to reason so far.

This is a plainly dressed Wren. The crown
is olive-brown, w^ith a w^hite line over the eye.
The black back is streaked with white, and the
dark wings and tail are barred with brown.
The under parts are white, washed with brown
on the sides. The bill is long and slightly curved.
They range in summer from the Gulf to central
New England, wintering from Florida south-
ward. They are slightly more than five inches
long.

Short-billed Marsh Wren. This Wren also
inhabits marshes and meadows overgrown with

THRASHERS AND WRENS 169

coarse grass. They are usually found with diffi-
culty, as they have a way of skulking in the
grass and sedges, rarely appearing, but indicat-
ing their presence by their sharp calls, which
Mr. Thompson says sound like the noise made
by striking- two pebbles together. The song is
described by Nuttall as a "lively and quaint
song, Hsh^ tship, a-day, day, day, day,^ delivered
in haste and earnestly, at short intervals, either
when he is mounted on a tuft of sedge or while
perching on some low bush near the skirt of
the marsh."

This, too, is a very small Wren, scarcely more
than four inches long. The upper parts are
streaked black, brown and buff, the wings and
tail beine somewhat barred. The under parts
are white, tinged with light brown on the breast
and sides. They breed as far north as Massa-
chusetts, and winter from the Gulf States south-
ward. This bird is also said to build extra nests
as does the Long-billed, and its nesting habits
are very similar.

Chapter XII
WOOD WARBLERS

"While May bedecks the naked tre««
With tassels and embroideries,
And many blue-eyed violets beam
Along the edges of the stream,
I hear a voice that seems to say,
Now near at hand, now far away,
'Witchery-witchery-witchery!' "
*^ The Maryland Yellow Throat^' — Henry van Dyke.

The Wood Warblers belong to an exclusively
American family, numbering in all, according
to Mr. Chapman, about one hundred and fifty-
five species, some seventy of which visit the
United States. All these, however, are not
found in any one locality during the nesting
season, but they are scattered over the whole
country, reaching far north into Canada, even
to Alaska. After the young are reared they
withdraw to the Southern States or beyond our
southern border, except for a few varieties,
of which scattering members even brave the
rigors of the northern winter. These few indi-
viduals subsist during the winter months upon
berries, but the great army of Warblers are
almost exclusively insect feeders, and so pass
wxU below the frost region, where they may be
sure of a constant food supply.

Many Warblers are late arrivals in spring,

170

WOOD WARBLERS 171

the great army appearing only after the weather
is well settled and the season of warm days is
here. They leave as soon as the young are
grown, some even in early August.

For some time I have been watching three
families in the near-by woods beyond the Cove,
the Black-throated Blue, the Black-throated
Green, and the Black and White Warbler.
Yesterday, the fifth of August, I visited their
nesting haunts to find them absent. Not a
Warbler note did I hear, or feather did I see,
where a few days ago the thicket seemed alive
with them. No doubt they have already begun
their migration which will for a time be made
by very easy stages, as there will be little occa-
sion for haste to escape the cold winter.

As a family Warblers are rather delicate
creatures, ill fitted to withstand the vicissitudes
of our changing climate; and the wonder is how
so many make the long migration without even
greater mortality among their numbers. There
are many varieties that travel five thousand
miles between their summer and winter homes;
and it is said the Black Poll, nesting in Alaska,
travels seven thousand five hundred miles to
its winter haunts in South America. No doubt
vast numbers meet untimely deaths on their
long journeys, but a goodly number survive,
bringing much of interest to our summer woods.

Warblers are usually woods-dwellers, where
we must seek them if we Would make their
acquaintance. They are restless as Wrens, and
being flycatchers, are constantly darting about
picking up the tiny tidbits of the air. They are

172 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

very difficult little creatures to study through a
glass, and much patience must be exercised if
one is to know them. But the reward is well
worth the effort, for they are among our most
attractive birds in plumage and nesting habits,
and while as a family they are not renowned
for vocal ability, yet many have very pleasant
notes, a few, songs of much merit. They present
a variety of colors that are brilliant and often
fantastic in arrangement.

Warblers differ much in feeding habits. Be-
sides catching insects, some patiently search
the cracks and crevices of tree trunks and care-
fully inspect both sides of the leaves in a most
painstaking and persistent manner. Some are
frequently seen on the ground searching for
grubs among the leaves, and a few varieties, at
certain seasons, feed upon berries and fruit.

The Warbler family is one of the most numer-
ous in summer, and it is perhaps safe to say one-
half the birds we find in the woods are mem-
bers thereof.

The fact of their keeping pretty close to the
woods, together with their small size and incon-
spicuous notes, accounts for their being so little
known. They are at once the joy and the despair
of the bird student, and to know even a few
varieties is well worth while. Yet if one begins
in early spring, when the hardier varieties
arrive, and works patiently for a season as
opportunity offers, a goodly number of inter-
esting acquaintances may be made. During the
migration, before the trees are in full foliage, is
an excellent time to study Warblers. They

WOOD WARBLERS 173

are ilicn in evidence in city parks and about the
lawn, wherever shelter and food are to be had.
About thirty-five varieties may be found in the
north during the spring and summer; in some
localities a few more. Of these we shall consider
about twenty of the more common ones.

Myrtle Warbler. One of the first Warblers
to put in an appearance in April is the Myrtle,
one of the most common of the family, as well
as one of the hardiest. He is rather gayly dressed
and may be easily distinguished by the four dis-
tinct patches of yellow, on either side of the
breast, on the rump, and crown. Otherwise the
upper parts of the male are bluish gray, streaked
with black. The imder parts are light, and,
except the throat, heavily streaked w4th black.
There are two distinct wing bars of white, and
the outer tail feathers are dashed with white.
The dress of the female is similar, with a faint
wash of brown above and less black on the
under parts. In the fall, both show much less
yellow, sometimes only the patch on the rump
being visible.

This is a bold Warbler, often seen in the open
cotmtry in company with others more timid,
who seem to seek his protection. I find them in
the dense woods in nesting time, but as soon as
the young can travel they move about the open
coimtry in family parties, often visiting lawn
and garden. They come to our premises fre-
quently w^here they flit in and out among the
fruit and shade trees, deftly snapping up pass-
ing insects and clinging to the tree trunks like
creepers, sometimes resting on the ground.

174 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

In spring and summer the food of Myrtle
Warblers is insects and the eggs and larvae of
insects; but with the advancing season, they
change to a diet of berries of the Virginia creeper,
dogwood, seeds of the alder, and bay or myrtle-
berries. From this habit arises the bird's name.
Their love for this vegetable diet makes it pos-
sible for some of the more vigorous individuals
to winter farther north than any other Warbler.
They are said to sometimes remain all win-
ter in Massachusetts where bayberries abound.
In the vicinity of New York I have found them
in a tangle of catbrier and poison ivy in Decem-
ber. They breed from northern New England
northward, and, as a rule, winter from the Mid-
dle States southward to Mexico and Panama.

Myrtle Warblers usually build in evergreen
trees, a nest of twigs and grass, with a lining of
hair, feathers or rootlets. The eggs are four or
five in number, grayish white, thickly speckled
with brown. This is one of the largest Warblers,
nearly six inches in length.

Yellow Palm Warbler. A dainty little Warbler
that may be expected in the vicinity of New
York by mid -April, is the Yellow Palm.
They, too, winter in the near South, usually
in the Gulf States, so their spring journey
is much shorter than with those wintering in
the far tropics. During migration this is a bird
of the open coimtry, parks, fields and road-
side, with little liking for dense foliage of either
lawn or forest. They are friendly, trustful little
creatures that often come close about the build-
ings in search of food, for they arrive at a time

WOOD WARBLERS 175

when the food question is rather a difficult one
to solve, especially since they are not seed
eaters at this season of the year.

Their nesting grounds are to the north, and
they are seen in the Northern and Middle
States only during migration, except in northern
Maine. But while journeying northward they
are numerous, and often are in the company of
Myrtles. They are restless little fellows, now
darting into the air to snap up a fly, now walk-
ing sedately about the fields in search of tiny
insects and grubs hidden in the grass, but always
with a lifting motion to the tail which becomes
very monotonous to the observer, if not tire-
some to the bird itself. Their note of alarm
is a sharp ''chip, chip,'' their usual call note a
fainter, rather lisping 'Uchip.'' The song heard
on the nesting ground is a daintily warbled
*' tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee'' a simple but
characteristic strain.

The name suggests the chief color of the bird,
for the under parts are bright yellow with fine
lines of brown on the sides of the throat. A
streak over the eye and the eye ring are yellow.
The back is brownish olive-green, brighter on
the rump. The wings and tail are clove brown.
The outer tail feathers are dashed with white,
plainly seen as the bird moves about. The
Yellow Palm is a small bird, less than five and
one-half inches long. Their nesting habits have
been observed by few persons in Maine. Mr.
Knight found them nesting on the ground at
the foot of a tree in a moss-covered bog. The
nests were built of fine grass and sedges, lined

176 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

with feathers or hair. The five eggs were a
roseate white, spotted and blotched with brown.

Black and White Warbler. This Warbler
could scarcely have borne another name, for
black and white are his colors, with no trace of
another tint. His dress is really very neat, the
coal black being streaked and dashed with pure
white. The female is washed with brownish on
the sides and there is less black on the under
parts; otherwise the colors of her plumage are
the same. If we add the word creeping to the
name of this bird, its identity is complete, for
it is almost as much a creeper as the Nut-
hatch or Brown Creeper. Their arrival is simul-
taneous with the Yellow Palm, and they are
found wherever there are trees. About the
shade trees and parks of the city, by the road-
side, on the lawn, and in the forest and orchard,
they busily search for their daily supply of bugs,
gnats, spiders, grubs and eggs of various insects.
They, too, are restless, but are more easily
observed than other Warblers, which feed ex-
clusively on insects caught on the wing, for
they move more sedately and doggedly. As
they work I often hear a fine, wiry call note,
'''dze, dze, dze,^"" and at times the bird stops to
sing a shrill ''wee-see, wee-see, wee-see, wee-see,'''*
not particularly musical.

These Warblers are common summer resi-
dents in the New England States, usually nest-
ing in second-growth, deciduous woods. The
nest of bark and grass is lined with hair and
tiny rootlets, and always placed on the ground
by the side of a stump or log, under a bush, or

WOOD WARBLERS 177

on a hummock. The eggs are pure white, prettily
spotted with brown. The range of the Black and
White Warbler in summer is local over eastern
North America from Pennsylvania northward
to the latitude of Hudson Bay. They winter
from northern Florida southward. They are
slightly more than six inches in length.

Pine Warbler. Often in late April we find
associated in migration with the Yellow Palms
and Alyrtles the Pine Warbler, so named be-
cause of its liking for pine trees. You will be
attracted by rather faint notes, which sound
like the utterances of the Chipping Sparrow and
yet are sufficiently characteristic so that you
will not confuse the two birds. Some observers
also liken its song to that of the Field Sparrow,
but I have not observed the likeness. The notes
are clear and sweet, a simple strain. Many of
these birds winter in the United States, even as
far north as North Carolina, a fact which ac-
counts for their early appearance in spring.

In the breeding season the Pine Warbler is
closely associated with evergreen forests, espe-
cially the pine; therefore, its range is much
limited. They build in these trees, usually on a
horizontal line high above the ground, a com-
pact nest of bark, w^eeds, leaves, etc., lined with
feathers and hair. The four or five eggs are
white with cinnamon spots.

As they usually live amid the dense foliage of
the pine they are rather difficult birds to ob-
serve. They are restive and busy, now clinging
to a thick cluster of needles, now moving like a
creeper along bough or trunk in the never end-

178 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

ing search for the tiny insects which largely
comprise their food. It is sometimes called the
Pine Creeping Warbler, but it is not a true
creeper. They are among our hardiest Warblers
and are often locally abundant.

The dress of the Pine Warbler is rather plain.
The upper parts of the male are bright olive-
green, with a tinge of gray. There are two white
wing bars and two patches of white on the
outer tail feathers near the tips. The under parts
are bright yellow washed with ashy, shading into
white on the belly. The female is brownish on
the back and dingy white below. They are
about five and one-half inches long. In summer
they are found from Florida to Canada and they
winter from North Carolina southward.

American Redstart. In late spring and
summer a common Warbler in the bushes and
second-growth trees along roadsides and streams,
and in the edge of the woods, is the American
Redstart. He is very conspicuous for his strik-
ing colors, orange and black, and for his ringing
song. The orange is darker than that of the
Baltimore Oriole, and there is a dash of white
distinctly seen as he darts about. They have a
peculiar habit of drooping the wings when
perched, as though weary, and when in flight
the tail is wide spread.

The Redstart is a very beautiful Warbler,
lively and cheerful in habit, and attractive in
song. Its strain is variously indicated by words,
"che, che, che, che-pa^^ being a common form.
But it seems to me that Mr. Chapman's ren-
dering, ''ching, ching, chee; serwee, serwee, ser-

Courtesy of the National Ash<jciatioii ol .viiiluWuii Socictic:
A M I:K I C A N REUS TART

WOOD WARBLERS 1T9

wee^^^ is nearer the song 1 hear from this very
common Warbler. The female sometimes sings
a part of a song but the male is really the vo-
calist of the family. They have a plaintive call
note, "cA^-^p, " and a sharper "chick.'*^

The upper parts of the male Redstart are
glossy black, the basal halves of the wing and
tail feathers a deep orange. The throat and
breast are black, the latter bordered with
orange. The belly is white, the sides somewhat
washed with orange. The female is much less
conspicuous in coloring, having the upper parts
greenish gray, and in place of the orange a dull
yellow.

These beautiful birds are common in our
summer woods and their range is broad, extend-
ing over the larger part of North America.
They nest from North Carolina to Labrador,
wintering in the West Indies, Mexico and Cen-
tral America. They are slightly less than six
inches in length. The nest of the Redstart is
a well made cup of fine strips of bark, plant
fibre and down, lined with fine roots and ten-
drils. It is usually placed in the fork of a limb
from five to twenty-five feet above the ground.
The eggs, grayish white spotted with brown,
are four or five in number.

Yellow Warbler. A very common bird in
summer about the thick shrubbery of the parks,
the bushes that overgrow the river banks, and
even about the hedges and lawn is the Yellow
Warbler. He is a pretty little fellow in a bright
suit of yellow, with a happy song heard at all
hours of the long day. Not only does he cheer

180 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

the heart of his dainty little mate at her work
with his tuneful melody, but he actually assists
at the labor of nest building and care of the
brood. Rarely do we find more delightful and
altogether commendable traits than in the
family of this abundant Warbler.

He is in full song when he arrives in early May,
and his ^'weeche, weeche, weeche-we-we^^ is a
welcome addition to the swelling chorus. They
are seen frequently about our lawn during sum-
mer, the Yellow Warbler being one of the birds
that so kindly and so thoroughly, day after day,
glean the injurious insects from our shade trees.
I always feel very grateful for their services, and
derive much pleasure from their bright coats
and sprightly songs.

Every year they nest in the bushes by the
river, and if you paddle quietly along close to
the bank, locating their home is a very easy
matter; but one might walk along the bank
many times without finding it. The nest, usu-
ally hung from a forked branch a few feet above
the ground, is a well-built little cup made of
bits of bark and fine grass, with a soft lining
of plant down. The eggs are of greenish white
color heavily marked with brown and lilac about
the larger end. This Warbler is often called
the Wild Canary from his close resemblance to
that household pet, but he may be easily iden-
tified by his slender bill and the dainty brown
stripes like faint pencilings on his breast. The
upper parts are bright greenish yellow, somewhat
brighter on the crown. The wings and tail are
blackish, the feathers of both somewhat fringed

WOOD WARBLERS 181

with yellow. Underneath is brilliant lemon-
yellow streaked with brown. This is a real yel-
low bird, true to name as the Indigo Bird. The
female is somewhat paler and the breast-stripes
are very faint. They are slightly more than five
inches long. They range over the greater part
of North America, nest as far north as the
Arctic region, wintering in Central and South
America.

Black-throated Blue Warbler. A Warbler I
frequently find in second-growth woods, where
the underbrush is thick, is the Black-throated
Blue. His name describes him sufiiciently to
insure his identification, and if there be added
a suggestion of the white patch on the wings,
the description will be complete. This is a very
handsome bird, strikingly different in dress
from all other Warblers.

During the migration I frequently find him
about the city parks, but, so far as I have ob-
served, they nest in forest seclusion. As you
venture into their haunts in June, you will hear
a sharp '^ cheep, cheep, ^^ and later, if you are
patient, ^'szveeze, szveeze, szveeze,^^ uttered by the
male when perched low.

The nest is usually placed in an evergreen
tree not far from the ground. It is made of fine
bark and grass, lined with vegetable fibre. The
eggs are three to five in number, grayish white
with large and small spots of brown.

With the male the upper parts are slaty blue,
the edges of the wings and tail deep blue. There
is, as w^e have seen, a distinct white patch on
each wing and also on the outer tail feathers.

182 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

The throat, sides of the head, and breast are
black, the belly white, the sides black and
white. The dress of the female is quite different,
rendering her rather difficult of identification.
The upper parts are olive-green with a bluish
tinge on the tail. The white wing patches are
indistinct, and the sides of the head are gray.
The under parts are dingy yellow. They are
about five inches in length. They nest from
Minnesota and Massachusetts northward to
Labrador, wintering in the tropics.

Black-throated Green. This Warbler is
also comparatively easy of identification, for
his notes are quite characteristic and his plumage
is both brilliant and unique. The male has
the upper parts light olive-green, with a line
over the eye and the cheeks bright yellow; and
there are two white wing bars. The throat and
breast are black, the belly white, the sides
streaked with black. The best field marks are
the yellow cheeks, white spots on the tail and
the black throat. The dress of the female is
similar, but the black of the throat and breast
is mixed with yellowish.

During migration they are found everywhere,
but in the nesting season they frequent the
evergreen woods. Then the male pauses in his
flycatching and drones his high pitched song,
which begins with several level notes and rises
suddenly at the end. The song is brief, but
possesses much merit; in fact, it ranks very
high among the Warbler songs. These birds
nest from Illinois and southern New England,
northward to Hudson Bay, and winter in the

BLACK-TllKOATKl) C.KKKN WARl'.l.KK

WOOD WARBLERS 183

tropics. They appear about New York at the
end of April or in early May.

Nashville Warbler. About second-growth
patches of woods and in the thickets that fringe
ponds, lakes and streams, in New York State
and New England, this sprightly litt'e Warbler
is one of the common birds of summer. They
receive their name from the fact that Wilson,
the discoverer of the species, found them near
the city of Nashville, in Tennessee. They are
not so often dwellers of the deep w^oods as many
of their cousins, and so their acquaintance is
more easily made. Besides, they live much in
the lower branches of trees and in bushes, and
nest on the ground, traits which render them
quite conspicuous on our excursions afield in
early spring and summer.

The dress of the Nashville Warbler is more
refined than brilliant, and is of such a character
as to render him rather easy to identify. The
top and sides of the head of the male are blue-
gray. Partially concealed on the crown is a
patch of chestnut, an inconspicuous mark.
Elsewhere the upper parts are olive-green, and
there are no wing bars. The under parts are
bright yellow, brighter on the throat and shad-
ing to v/hite on the belly. The female has prac-
tically the same dress but somewhat paler.
With this variety there seems to be little love
making, and it appears that the mate has small
part in setting up housekeeping, except as he
stimulates and cheers the female at her work.
Perchance on a near-by bush he sings his bold
and pleasing song, which has been indicated by

184 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

the words, ^^pea-cie, pea-cie-hit-i-hit-i-hit.''^
Langille finds in the first part of the song a
similarity to that of the Black and White
Warbler, while the latter part is likened to the
notes of the Chipping Sparrow. There is also a
flight song, with ''chippings" before and after,
which is said to be more hurried.

The nest of moss, lichens and dead leaves,
lined with fine rootlets, is placed on the ground
in small growth, often among gray birches.
This habit has led to its being called the Birch
Warbler. The eggs are white with fine brown
spots. They range in summer from southern
New England to Labrador, wintering in Central
America and Mexico. These birds are slightly
less than five inches in length.

Parula Warbler. If you visit thickly
wooded sections either in city parks or in the
country, about the middle of May, you will be
pretty sure to find a large number of migrating
warblers. Prominent among them will be the
charming little Parula, one of the most attrac-
tively dressed of the whole family. They are
very tame during migration and if you sit quiet
will come close about you. In mid-May this
year, we found them in Forest Park, New York
City, so plentiful that we could hardly believe
our eyes, and so tame it seemed they would
light on our hats. They were feeding busily on
gnats, flies and mosquitoes. On another visit
a few days later we found they had gone on
their way to the nesting grounds.

The dress of the Parula is very pretty. The
upper parts are grayish blue with a yellow patch

WOOD WARBLERS 185

on the center of the back. There are two white
wing bars and the outer tail feathers have a
white patch near the end. The throat and breast
are yellow with a band across the chest, vary-
ing in color from chestnut to brownish black.
The belly is white and the sides somewhat
washed with brown. The female has similar
coloring, but the band across the chest is duller,
sometimes altogether lacking, and the upper
parts are inclined toward greenish.

The song of this really beautiful creature is
neither loud nor especially musical, an insect-
like ''ze-ze-ti-ti.^^ The alarm note is a sharp
"chip"' or "chick.''

As a nest builder, the Parula is one of the
most interesting of birds. In the trees which
border ponds and lakes, and along the sea-
shore, in fact, wherever in their nesting range
the long, gray usnea moss is abundant, their
nests are located. The nest is simply a hollow
in the center of the bunch of moss and no other
material enters into its structure. In this pic-
turesque and highly artistic nest are laid the
tiny white eggs, thickly spotted with brown.
The Parula ranges in summer from the moun-
tains of New York and Virginia, northward to
New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, wintering in
the tropics. This bird is slightly more than four
and one-half inches long.

Chestnut-sided Warbler. Another brilliantly
dressed Warbler is the Chestnut-sided, whose
name reveals the most striking feature of its
handsome dress. The top of the head is bright
yellow, bordered on the sides with black, and a

186 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

black band from between the eye and the bill ex-
tends down the sides of the neck. There are
white patches on the cheeks and two white wing
bars. The back is streaked with dark and light
olive-green. The tail is black with white patches
near the tips of the feathers. The under parts
are white, the sides chestnut. The dress of the
female is similar, but the colors are somewhat
fainter.

This is a common Warbler in New England
in summer, but leaves early. They are good fly-
catchers and also gleaners of bugs and grubs
among the leaves of the trees about their homes.
Sometimes they come to our law^n on a food
quest, although their nests are a half mile away.
In blackberry bushes I often find a nest made of
tendrils, strips of bark and rootlets lined with
pine needles. The eggs are white with brown
spots mostly about the larger end. They range
in summer from Illinois and central New Jersey
north to Newfoundland and southward in the
mountains. They winter in the tropics.

The song of the Chestnut-sided Warbler is
often compared to that of the Yellow Warbler,
and it will require a little experience to dis-
criminate between them. It has been described
as ^He-te-ie-te-we-cher.^'' Another version is ^Hsee,
tsee^ happy to meet you,^^ The notes are dis-
tinct and rather explosive at the end. The song
season is short, usually ending by the middle of
July.

Wilson's Warbler. This Warbler is little
known in the Eastern States except as a traveler
in spring and fall. Aside from the few that nest

Courtesy ol the Matioiial Association of Audubon Societies
CllESTX L'T-SIDED W ARBLER

WOOD WARBLERS 187

in northern Maine, they are summer residents
in Canada northward to Labrador. During
migration you will find them in the bush ricks
along the brooks and about ponds, where they
easily catch their supply of gnats and flies, a
work at which they are very expert. There you
will hear their thin, high pitched ''zee^ zee^ zee,^^
not unlike the first notes of the Redstart, and
less wiry than the similar notes of the Golden-
crowned Kinglet. It is a modest little song,
unpretentious, but sweet and happy when
heard in the season of pussy-willows and alder
catkins.

This bird is slightly smaller than the Yellow
Warbler. Its most prominent feature in dress
is the fine black cap above the yellow forehead.
Otherwise the upper parts are a handsome
shade of olive-green; the under parts are bright
yellow. The female has the same colors, but
sometimes she lacks the black cap. The nest,
on the ground and well hidden by low bushes,
is made of leaves and grass. They arrive in the
vicinity of New York in early May.

Maryland Yellow-throat. There is not a
more fantastic feature of dress found in the
whole Warbler family than the black mask worn
by the Maryland Yellow-throat. It is so pecul-
iar that no other field mark is necessary to
insure his identity. Otherwise his colors are
ordinary enough, olive-green above and bright
yellow below, brightest on the throat. The belly
is white with brownish washings on the sides.
The female is a much more difficult bird to
identify, as she is lacking the black mask and

188 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

there are more of the brown washings in her
plumage. You will often be puzzled by this
little lady in yellow and brown, but when her
'^chack, chack^^ of alarm brngs to her side him
of the black mask your doubts will be wholly
dispelled.

I find these Warblers in summer more com-
monly in the alder swamps and ricks of bushes
that border brook and cove. In a bush near the
ground is built a bulky nest of coarse grass and
bark, lined with fine grass and tendrils. The four
tiny white eggs are finely spotted with brown.
It is said their song varies much in diflPerent
localities, but the one I hear is a loud and
melodious '^ wichery-wichery-wichery,^^ sung over
and over, many times a day, and at all hours,
with a swing that is very pleasant to the
ear. They are very common birds in their sum-
mer range, which extends from Georgia to
Labrador. They winter from the Gulf south-
ward.

Yellow-breasted Chat. This is the largest
member of the Warbler family and, if the reports
of him are true, by far the most eccentric; and
enough of his peculiar traits are well established
to warrant that characterization. I have not
seen him in New England, but in northern New
Jersey I have found him in bush-grown tracts
and among sapling growths on the Orange
Mountains.

Usually this is a very shy bird, but he is so
conspicuous in coloring and size as to make his
identification an easy matter. The upper parts
are olive-green. The throat and breast are

WOOD WARBLERS 189

bright yellow, shading to white on the belly.
There is a white line over the eye to the bill, a
white eye ring and white stripes on the neck.
The bill is large and slightly curved. He is
nearly seven and one-half inches long.

The Chat has no utterance worthy to be
called a song, but it is a noisy creature never-
theless. The wonder is that one bird can produce
such a potpourri of cacks, chucks and calls as
will sometimes greet your ears when in the
haunts of this vocal anomaly. It is said that by
sharply striking together two pebbles, you can
start the Chat into his jumble of sounds, the
most peculiar notes, in some respects, of the
bird choir. His antics are in keeping with his
utterances, and he is the veritable clown of
bird-land.

They build a large nest of coarse grass, leaves
and bark, lined with fine grass, in bushes near the
ground. The eggs are white, evenly spotted
with brown. This bird ranges north to New
England in summer and winters in Central
America.

Black-poll Warbler. This plainly dressed
Warbler might easily be told by the black cap he
wears, suggested by his name. But an easier way,
perhaps, to identify him, as it will save you
many a scramble in the thicket, is by his thin,
wiry song, a monotonous ^'tsee^ tsee, tsee, tsee^
tsee, tsee, " in effect not unlike the sound made
by filing a saw. When you first hear it you would
probably take it for the sound of a cicada, were
it not too early in the season for the shrill notes
of that insect. Beginning low, the notes in-

190 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

crease toward the middle and diminish toward
the end, forming a musical swell that is almost
perfect. While a unique and highly interesting
performance, it is hardly worthy to be called
a song. I have never heard any other sound
from the Black-poll, but it is said to have a call
note ''tsip,'^ or " chip,^^ that is occasionally heard.

They are the least restive of the Warblers I
have observed. Perched on a dead tree, I have
heard him trill his quaint lay for a half hour
without stopping to catch fly or beetle that
might chance to go droning by.

In summer they seek evergreen trees in the
forest, where they build from four to ten feet
above the ground. The nest is made of fine root-
lets, twigs, moss and grasses, lined with fine
grass or feathers. The eggs are usually white,
spotted with brown or lilac. The crown of the
male is black, the nape black, streaked with
white, and there is a dash of white over the eye.
The back is grayish, streaked with white, and
there are two white wing bars. The white under
parts are streaked with black, more prominent
on the side?. With the female the crown is less
black, the back is inclined toward olive-green
and the under parts are yellowish. Black-polls
are about six inches in length. They nest from
northern New England to Greenland and in
Alaska, wintering in South America.

Ovenbird. This very attractive little War-
bler is so different from all others in habits
and notes that he will be easily identified when
once you meet him. Contrary to the habits of
his cousins, he spends the most of his time on

WOOD WARBLERS 191

the ground, walking sedately about in quest of
his food, bugs, grubs and various insects. In
manner of movement and pose he reminds one
of the larks. In flight he seems like a Thrush and
formerly was grouped with that family under
the name of Golden-crowned Thrush; but
more careful investigation caused him to be
classified as a Warbler.

He is a very common inhabitant of the leafy
woods of the Northern States in summer, where
his peculiar notes are heard almost constantly.
Beginning low, they increase in volume, with
explosive emphasis at the end. Mr. Burroughs
very fittingly represented his notes thus:
"Teacher, Teacher, Teacher, TEACHER,
TEACHER." This interpretation was seen to
be so fitting it has come to be almost universally
known as the Teacher Bird. This strain is not
melodious, but is decidedly energetic and sug-
gestive of cool, sylvan retreats and leafy bowers
with carpets of dun brown.

The Ovenbird is slightly longer than the
Black-poll and stouter. The crown is bright
orange bordered with black lines. Elsewhere
the upper parts are olive-green somewhat tinged
with brown. The under parts are white with the
sides of the throat, breast and sides heavily
marked with dark brown. It is a handsome
bird, pert in bearing and smart in dress. The
name, Ovenbird, comes from its unique nest
built almost wholly of dry leaves and roofed
over like a Dutch oven. Placed on the ground
in the midst of a thick carpet of dead leaves,
it is most difficult to find unless one chances

192 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

upon it quite by accident. The four or five eggs
are white, spotted with brown. They nest from
Virginia and Kansas northward to Manitoba
and Labrador and winter from Florida south-
ward.

Water Thrush. While this bird bears the
name Thrush, it is a Warbler nevertheless. As
I had found them singly here and there in my
bird studies, I supposed them to be compara-
tively rare birds until last May when I found
them in Forest Park, New York City, so abun-
dant that for a time I could hardly believe it pos-
sible. In spring there are in the park a number
of hollows filled with water,' little lagoons which
are dry in midsummer. About these and the
marshes, Water Thrushes were in scores and
hundreds. But their stay was brief, and on
they went to their nesting grounds in the north.
This is a good-sized Warbler with rather long
legs, which tilts its tail like the Yellow Palm.
The upper parts are uniform olive-brown with
a buify line over the eye. The under parts are
white tinged with yellow, and everywhere
streaked with black. Male and female have the
same dress.

The Water Thrush excels as a singer. When
I first heard it I was quite amazed at the vol-
ume and variety of its notes. Perched on a tree
above a babbling stream that rushes down
from the mountain side through alder thickets, it
sang a wild and varied, yet melodious lay. The
effect was marvelous, and to my sense, this
Warbler takes rank with the very best singers
of the family.

WOOD WARBLERS 193

The nest is often placed in the upturned roots
of a tree, or is safely tucked away in a mossy
bank. It is made of moss, lichens and fine roots.
The eggs are four or five in number, speckled
with fine brown spots about the larger end.
The Water Thrush is rather more than six
inches long. The nesting range is from northern
New England north to Labrador and New-
foundland. They winter in the West Indies and
Central America. A very similar variety, called
the Louisiana Water Thrush, has a more south-
em range in summer, advancing north to Con-
necticut. The colors are similar to the above,
except that the line over the eye is white and
the middle of the throat and belly are un-
streaked. This bird is also slightly larger than
the Water Thrush.

Canadian Warbler. This is a very beau-
tiful bird, common enough in its nesting grounds
from central New England northward. They
are often seen with other Warblers during migra-
tion, but in the breeding season they frequent
the deep w^oods usually near the water, where
birch, beech and maple mingled with ever-
greens make a dense bower of green. The upper
parts are a handsome gray. The crown is spotted
with black, and a region about the eye, below
and behind, is black. The under parts are
bright yellow with a line of black spots about
the neck like a necklace. A line from the bill
over the eye is yellow\ The female has a similar
dress, but the spots on the breast are much
lighter. Their song is animated and melodious,
sometimes rendered as "^r<?, tre, tS7ne, tre, tre.^^

194 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

They build a nest of bits of bark, dry leaves,
moss and rootlets, on the ground by a clump of
ferns, under a log or hummock, or in the up-
turned roots of a tree. The eggs are white,
thickly spotted with brown.

The Magnolia Warbler. The prevailing
colors of this Warbler's plumage have given it
the name of Black and Yellow Warbler. It is
rather strikingly marked and is an easy bird to
identify. The back of the male is black bor-
dered with olive-green; the crown is gray, the
cheeks and forehead black, with a line of white
behind the eye. The lower parts, throat and
rump are bright yellow, the breast and sides
strongly streaked with black. The tail is black
with the inner veins of all except the middle
feathers patched with white midway, leaving the
terminals black. There is also a white patch on
the wing coverts. The female's dress is similar
but the colors are less distinct.

The song of the Magnolia is loud and clear,
somewhat like that of the Yellow Warbler in
tone, and has been likened to the syllables
^'chee-to, chee-to, chee-tee-ee,^^ uttered rapidly
and with falling inflection. The nest of plant
fibre, bark, roots and grass, is usually placed in
a bush near the ground. The eggs are white,
thickly marked with cinnamon -brown about
the larger end. The Magnolia breeds from
northern New Jersey to Newfoundland and
winters in Central America. They seek tracts
that are openly wooded, the edges of the forest,
and bushy pastures.

Blackbumian Warbler. This bird is a dweller

WOOD WARBLERS 193

in the evergreens, and even during migration
he is more often found in dark woods than
in the open country. As he spends most of
his time in the treetops, it is not altogether
easy to make his acquaintance, although his
beautiful plumage makes him rather a showy
bird. It is almost always by tracing a rather
shrill song to its source that I find him, not a
difficult task as he is a constant singer and his
clear notes are distinctly audible. ^'Wee-see-
wee-see-wee-see,^^ he sings to his busy mate, who,
no doubt, is much cheered by his tuneful effort.
He is a willing helper in the many duties of
nest building and rearing the young.

Black, white and orange are the colors of the
Blackbumian, so strikingly arranged as to
make him one of our most attractive Warblers.
The crown, back of the neck and back are black,
and the sides are streaked with black. The
center of the crown, line over the eye, patch
behind the ear coverts, throat and breast are
rich orange. The back and tail are streaked
with white and there is a white patch on the
wings. With the female the orange is much
duller, the back is olive-gray, and there is much
less white. The nest of fine twigs and grass is
placed high above the ground in evergreen
trees. The four whitish eggs are spotted and
dashed with brown. They range in summer
from northern New England to Labrador and
winter in the tropics. This bird is about five
and one-fourth inches long.

Chapter XIII

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES

Blue Heron, Sandpiper, Bittern, King-
fisher Waxwings, Cuckoos, Mourning
Dove, Bob-White,Tanager, Chimney Swift,

NiGHTHAWK, WhIPPOORWILL, StARLING,

Shrikes.

*'Lo! a great blue heron. Seeing us approach, it spread its long wings
and flew solemnly across to a dead tree on the other side of the lake,
enhancing rather than relieving the loneliness and desolation that
brooded over the scene."

— The Adirondacksy John Burroughs.

The birds considered in this chapter belong
to several different families. In" no instance
are more than two or three varieties of a family-
described, in several families but a single variety.

Great Blue Heron. Of all the feathered so-
journers of our Northern States this Heron is
by far the most picturesque; and one of the
saddest tragedies in bird life is seen in his rap-
idly diminishing numbers. In my youth he was
a very common bird about the ponds and rivers
of the neighborhood. Last summer, although I
many times visited their former haunts, I did not
see a Blue Heron in that vicinity. Later, how-
ever, on my trip in the West Branch waters,
several w^ere seen in the marshes that border
river and lake, indicating that the few that

106

GRKAT BLUE IIEKoX

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 197

remain have taken to the protection of the
wilderness. A few years since, while fishing on
Mooseluckmaguntic Lake, the guide told me that
he, in company with other guides, was accus-
tomed to visit each year a nesting colony of
Blue Herons to destroy the young, and that
they were usually very successful. This destruc-
tion was justified, in the guide's mind, by the
fact that the Blue Heron, being a fish eater,
catches many young trout, thus notably dimin-
ishing the fisherman's chances. Such destruc-
tion, together with that which results from the
inability on the part of hunters to resist the
temptation offered by so good a ^'mark, " has
been the main cause of the diminishing num-
bers of this noble creature.

As fish and frogs comprise the main part of
his food, the Heron spends much time among
the reeds and rushes that border lakes, ponds
and streams. There his colors so perfectly
blend with the hues about him that he is well
protected. But a strange noise causes him to
raise his long neck, when be becomes very con-
spicuous. He is the tallest of our birds, being
more than four feet in height, and his great
wings have a spread of five to six feet. The
neck and legs are very slender, the bill, six
inches long, is heavy at the base, tapering to a
sharp point, a most effective instrument which
he uses with great precision.

The plumage of the Great Blue Heron is
pleasing to the eye. The back, rump and wmg
coverts are a handsome slate blue. The head,
neck and breast are streaked black, white and

198 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

yellowish, and there are long feathers like
plumes pendent on the back of the head, while
long and very narrow feathers at the base of the
neck form a sort of ruff. The bend of the wing
and the leg feathers are chestnut. These birds
breed in evergreen trees usually in colonies, the
nest being merely a rude platform of sticks
high above the ground. In summer they range
over North America to Hudson Bay, wintering
southward to Cuba. Their only cry is a hoarse
'' quawk, quawk^^^ uttered when in flight.

Spotted Sandpiper. The Spotted Sandpiper
is a very familiar bird about our lakes and
streams and along the seashore as well. He
belongs to a large family of shore birds, among
them being many that are regarded as lawful
game. This is by far the most common of the
family, and in summer his range is very wide.
He is a friendly, trustful little fellow, so lovable
that he has made a great many friends, of some
of whom he may well be proud. That gentle
poet, Celia Thaxter, wrote a beautiful little poem
on this bird which has been much admired.

Few sounds are more often heard by the vaca-
tionist, who, in boat or canoe, threads our in-
land waterways than the plaintive "' tweet,
tweeV^ of the Sandpiper. He springs up from
the shore just ahead of you, swings out in a
wide circle to a point some distance in advance
of your craft, and lighting again, runs along
shore, halting ever and anon to watch your
progress. He has a peculiar teetering or balanc-
ing motion of the body which has given him
the name of "Steel yard Bird," or "Teeter-

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 199

up." He nests near the shore, or in a field or
pasture, near water, building a very poor nest of
grass which merely serves as a receptacle for
the eggs. Since the young birds run almost as
soon as hatched, they have little need of a home.
The eggs are very large, of light tan color,
thickly spotted with dark brown.

The Spotted Sandpiper is rather a handsome
bird, although there are no brilliant colors in
his plumage. The upper parts are grayish
brown with just a shade of green. The head and
neck are streaked with black and the back has
spots of the same color. The tail feathers have
dark bars and streaks, and the light under parts
are heavily spotted with dark brown. They
have long legs, large eyes and a sharp bill. They
are about seven and one-half inches in length.
Their summer range extends as far north as
Hudson Bay and they winter in Brazil.

American Bittern. Another inhabitant of
the grassy marshes and swamps in summer is
the American Bittern, or Stake Driver as he is
sometimes called. This name arises from the
supposed likeness of one of his utterances to
the sound made by striking a stake with an axe.
To my sense the peculiar cry of the Bittern is
best represented by the words '' plunk- er-lunk^
plunk-er-lunk,^^ a sound not unlike that pro-
duced when using an old-fashioned wooden
pump. This is "the booming of the Bittern."

The American Bittern is a member of the
Heron family. It is more than two feet in
height. The upper parts are mottled brownish,
the throat is whitish, and there is a shiny-black

200 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

streak on either side of the neck. The under
parts are creamy buflF, streaked and dashed
with brown. The legs are yellowish. There are
few better examples of protective coloring than
that furnished by this bird. So closely do his
colors conform to the browns and yellows of
his usual haunts that he is quite hidden from
the careless eye. When in danger of being dis-
covered he will sometimes point his larp-e bill
upward and stand so motionless that it is very
difficult to distinguish him from his surround-
ings. When in this position, if the wind springs
up, it is said he will move in unison with the
swaying reeds and grasses, the better to carry
out the deception.

The nest of the Bittern, made of coarse grass
and rushes, is placed on the ground in marshes
and swamps. The eggs, three to five in number,
are drab or slate-gray. They arrive in late April
or early May and range in summer throughout
the East, north of Virginia. They are not com-
mon birds, and rarely are more than a single
pair found in a marsh. They winter from Vir-
ginia southward.

Belted Kingfisher. A fish-eating bird, very
common in summer about the lakes and streams
of the North, is the Belted Kingfisher. His
method of fishing is quite unlike that of the
Blue Heron or Loon, and is much more spec-
tacular. From some stub or limb hanging over
the water, he watches with keen eye for the
small fish which constitute his food. When he
catches a glimpse of fin or shining back near the
surface, down drops this fisher like a plummet,

RF.i.'i i:i) kix(;i"isiii:r

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 201

head first, straight into the water, seizing the
fish in his strong beak; then he rises again to his
perch, or swings along the shore to his nest
with a rattle of triumph. Often when in full
flight, catching sight of a fish near the surface,
he hovers for a moment by very rapid move-
ment of his wings as though to steady himself
for the plunge. But he does not always catch
his prey, and dives again and again before
his efforts are rewarded. Unlike the Osprey, his
talons are not adapted for striking and holding
the fish, but his large, strong bill is an excellent
implement. Sometimes you will see him come
up with wriggling minnow, which he strikes
sharply against the limb, probably to stun it
before swallowing; at other times the poor vic-
tim disappears with no ceremony.

This bird, too, has fallen under the ban of the
guides of the north woods, because of the large
number of small trout and salmon he destroys.
But their wholesale destruction is not so easily
accomplished as in the case of the Blue Heron, for
Kingfishers nest in single pairs in a secure cham-
ber at the end of a tunnel five or six feet long,
excavated in a sand bank. The nest consists of
a rough collection of grass, fish bones, bark,
sticks, etc., and is not a savory place. As a
nest builder he has little skill, but he returns
to the same hole year after year.

The Belted Kingfisher is a bird of striking
appearance. On his rather large head is a prom-
inent crest, almost black, which gives him a some-
what belligerent look. The back, tail and a band
across the white breast are a handsome bluish-

202 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

gray color. The wings and tail are speckled with
white, the throat and sides of the neck are
white, and there is a spot of white in front of
the eye. With the female the band on the
breast and the sides are brownish. The King-
fisher is more than a foot long and rather thick-
set. They have a wide summer range, from the
Gulf States to Labrador, and winter from Vir-
ginia to the tropics.

Cedar Waxwing. These birds are veritable
nomads. So strong in them is the love for the
life of a rover that they postpone the nesting
until summer is well advanced, and no sooner
are the young able to fly freely, than they again
take up their wanderings. Even in late August
I have found their nests with eggs unhatched.
This means that the young are scarcely full
grown before the return of Jack Frost. During
at least ten months of the year they roam over
a wide range of country in small bands, seeking
a food supply which varies much with the
seasons. During the cold months they feed
upon cedar berries; later they develop a taste
for cherries, and at times the berry patches are
the center of their activities. Besides, they are
expert flycatchers, and at nesting time insects
form a large part of their food.

Both in manner and dress the Cedar Wax-
wing is one of our most refined birds. The deli-
cate coloring of their plumage, to my sense, is
not surpassed in attractiveness in the whole
bird wprld. It has been compared to the ex-
quisite tints of a Japanese water color. The
upper parts are brownish-gray, shading into a

CEDAR WAXWIXG

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 203

faint }'cllow underneath. A rich black line runs
through the eye back to the prominent crest.
I'he tail has a terminal band of handsome yel-
low; on the wing is a dash of bright red like
scaling wax, and the chin and forehead are
black. The female has much the same colors
but more subdued, and the crest is smaller.
These birds are about seven inches in length.

The Waxwing's manners are what one would
expect in a bird so tastefully dressed. They
seem to be always courteous and amiable, re-
fined and undemonstrative in their ways. They
are strangely silent; but a single note have I
ever heard them utter, a faint lisping 'Useep,^^
which is sometimes likened to beads strung on a
string. When one approaches their nest there
is no protest. The mother bird stares at you
with steady eye until you can almost reach her,
then slips away without a sound. The nest,
which I usually find in the orchard or in the
alders on the river bank, is a flat, shallow struc-
ture of sticks, moss, grass, bark, leaves, etc.
The dull, bluish-gray eggs are spotted irregu-
larly with dark brown. They range over eastern
North America, in summer as far north as Lab-
rador. Some winter in New England and New
York, others wander as far south as Central
America.

The Bohemian Waxwing has a more northern
range and is rather rare in the United States.
Occasionally they wander as far south as New
York City. They are somewhat larger than
their cousins, but in dress, habits and notes are
similar.

204 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Black-billed Cuckoo. To the Nature lover
certain times of the year are associated with
certain sounds, and he is not at all satisfied
if each hurrying season does not bring to his
yearning ear its characteristic voices. For me,
the welcome, though strident frog chorus and
the faith-inspiring strain of the Song Sparrow
are so intimately associated with the advent
of spring that I cannot fully realize that the
season of Nature's awakening has really come
until I have received the message from these
never failing heralds. The first scent of clover
always assures me that the Bobolinks are tink-
ling gaily over the broad grass fields at home,
for to me clover blossoms and Bobolink song
are closely associated. And with the coming of
the sultry days when summer seems to settle
down for her busy season, I listen intently for
the strange, mellow, elusive "^, k, koo^ koo, koo,
koo, koo, " the fascinating call of the Black-billed
Cuckoo.

Something in the quality of these notes sug-
gests the makeup of the bird, both as to appear-
ance and character. As this call is uncertain
and unobtrusive, so the bird is shy and retiring,
with nothing of bustle or bluster about it.
Sometimes in August from the lawn I hear the
gentle '^ koo, koo,'' but am not at first able to
say whether the bird is in a near-by tree, or
a half mile away in the woods. On silent
wing he slips into the thick foliage, blending
so perfectly with his surroundings that he is
quite hidden. If there is a caterpillar's nest
in the tree, he is soon very busy with these

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 205

spinous tidbits, doing us a real service in their
destruction. They eat a large number of cater-
pillars, so many, in fact, that the walls of their
stomachs are full of the spines, a condition
which does not seem to interfere with the bird's
happiness.

The nesting habits of the Cuckoo are such as
one expects from a bird of eccentric character.
The nest is little more than a platform of sticks,
so carelessly made as to afford little protection
to the fledglings, and it is so flat that often the
young fall out; but because of its low position
they do not have far to fall. The eggs are
laid at most irregular intervals, so there are
often newly hatched youngsters, others half
grown, and eggs in the nest at the same time.
Sometimes, if you chance upon the nest of the
Cuckoo, the owners will leave and not return,
abandoning eggs and young to their fate. They
are very tame birds, permitting near approach
without taking alarm. When perched they have
rather a crouching position and the long tail
droops. They seem languid, even lazy, in all
their movements except when feeding.

The Black-billed Cuckoo is larger than the
Robin, being about a foot in length. The upper
parts are a grayish olive-brown, the under parts
whitish, and the wing feathers are narrowly
tipped with white. The long, slightly curved
bill is black. They range over North America
east of the Rocky Mountains, breeding from
the Gulf of Mexico to Labrador. They winter
in South America, and are among the arrivals
in early May.

206 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Yellow-billed Cuckoo. This Cuckoo very
closely resembles the Black-billed in size and
plumage, but there are slight differences in
coloring that render the identification compar-
atively easy. The wing feathers are tinged with
rufous, the black tail feathers are heavily tipped
with white, and the under mandible is yellow.
Otherwise the coloring is the same. It seems
that their range differs somewhat, for in Maine,
where the Black-billed is a common bird, the
Yellow-billed is rare, except in the southwestern
portion. Its notes are harsher and more varied.
Its feeding and nesting habits are very similar,
and its domestic affairs in general are as badly
managed. Farmers are coming to more fully
recognize the value of these birds, for a pair will
destroy all the caterpillars in a goodly area in
the orchard, and they also eat beetles, moths,
grasshoppers and crickets. Sometimes luscious
blackberries and raspberries seem too attractive
for them to resist, but the harm they do to fruit
and berries is slight.

Mourning Dove. Of this numerous family
the Mourning Dove is the only one now resident
in the Northern States, if we except the Domes-
tic Pigeons. Formerly the Wild Pigeon was so
numerous that when migrating the flocks were
said to *Marken the sun." And when alighting
in the forest, their combined weight was suffi-
cient to break down great trees. They were
trapped and shot by hundreds and thousands,
sold for a trifle, and in many cases, where there
was no market close at hand, were fed to the
pigs. This ruthless destruction went on until,

vi:i.i.()\\-i!n.i.i:i) cl'CKoo

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 207

SO far as ornithologists are able to determine,
these beautiful creatures were exterminated.
At least they have entirely disappeared from
this part of the world. It is now more than
thirty years since the last flock was seen, and a
reward of a large sum of money offered for
proof of a pair of nesting Wild Pigeons still re-
mains unclaimed. There are few better, or
worse, examples of the extermination of a once
numerous creature. It is paralleled in the case
of the American Bison, except in their case the
destruction was halted just before the last were
destroyed.

The Mourning Dove is a summer resident of
the North, not common, however, except south
of New England. Rarely a straggler reaches
southern Maine. They are about a foot long,
and plump. The upper parts are olive-brown
with a tone of bluish-gray; the neck and head
show metallic lustre, and there is a small black
mark below the ear. The outer tail feathers are
slate-gray towards the base; outward they are
banded with black and tipped with white. The
breast is buff, the under parts otherwise lighter.
The female has similar colorings, but rather
duller and without the metallic lustre.

In flight there is a sharp whistling sound made
by the wings. They nest in a very rude struc-
ture of sticks, scarcely more than a platform, so
poorly constructed that sometimes the fledg-
lings fall through. Often they occupy an old
nest of Robin or Grackle. They usually frequent
open woods where the nest is placed in a tree at
some distance above the ground. The plaintive

208 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

call of the male, ''coo-o-o, ah-coo-o-oo-c-oo,^*
has determined its name, for there is a distinct
tone of sadness about it, and it is uttered, ap-
parently, with much feeling. After the breeding
season they gather in small flocks. They winter
from New Jersey to the West Indies.

Scarlet Tanager. The Tanagers are a very
large American family, for the most part inhab-
itants of the tropics. But two varieties visit
eastern North America, the Scarlet Tanager
and the Summer Tanager, the latter rarely ven-
turing farther north than southern New Jersey.

I see the Scarlet Tanager among the leafing
trees of the parks in Brooklyn about the tenth
of May, and the sight of this beautiful bird is
always a delight to me. Although they are found
occasionally in Maine, it has never been my
good fortune to find them there, and conse-
quently there is for me a thrill of exultation
whenever I find them in their more common
haunts of New Jersey or Long Island.

The male Scarlet Tanager is our most bril-
liantly colored bird. His suit is a handsome
scarlet with black wings and tail and a dash of
white on the under wing coverts. This gay dress
is worn during the mating and nesting season
and doffed with the approach of autumn. He
then puts on a sober dress of light olive-green
which is quite similar to that of his mate. In
her case this coloring is well adapted for con-
cealment when nesting. The female has the
under parts yellowish-green, the wings and cail
umber brown. These Tanagers are not good
builders, their nest being loosely built of grass.

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 209

sticks and fibres, placed on a horizontal limb of
oak or hemlock at considerable distance from
the ground. The male is very solicitous of the
welfare of his mate during the period of incuba-
tion, feeding her, and at times spelling her.
When the fledglings appear, both parents care
for them.

The song of this Tanager has been likened to
the songs of the Robin, Rose-breasted Grosbeak
and Baltimore Oriole, and there is an element of
similarity. But the likeness is only slight after
all, for he has his own lay. It is not clear like
the Robin's, but is rather hoarse, "a monoto-
nous 'chip, chiirr,'' repeated at short intervals, in
a pensive tone. " There is about the Tanager's
song a distinctive quality that renders it so
attractive that one could enjoy him as a neigh-
bor for his song alone; this with his gorgeous
dress makes him one of the most admired of
the summer host.

I usually find the Scarlet Tanager in second-
growth woods and bush-grown tracts, some-
times in the orchard where their fire red makes
a striking picture when seen amid the blossom-
ing trees. Formerly they were much more com-
mon than now, as they have fallen prey to the
feather hunters who sought their poor bodies
to adorn ladies' hats. With the enacting of
laws in nearly all of the States, looking to
the better protection of bird life, the Tanager
has again become more common with us. They
range in summer from the Ohio River and Vir-
ginia northward to the St. Lawrence and Man-
itoba, wintering in the tropics. They are more

210 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

numerous in the southern portion of their sum-
mer range. They are about seven and one-half
inches in length.

Chimney Swift. Although this bird is more
often called the Chimney Swallow and classed
with that family, it is not a Swallow but, in fact,
is entirely distinct. It belongs to a group num-
bering some seventy-five varieties of which this
is the only one common in eastern North Amer-
ica. This bird, like the Swallows, feeds upon
insects taken on the wing. Its body is slender
and its wings long, giving it great strength and
rapidity of flight, but there is lacking the grace
of the Swallows.

The plumage is a dull, sooty, grayish-black,
well suited, you would say, to a bird seeking its
nesting site in a hollow tree, dark cave, or un-
used chimney. The tail feathers have sharp
spines like the Woodpecker's, which assist greatly
in clinging to perpendicular surfaces. The nest
is a simple little shelf of sticks fastened to the
side of the chimney or hollow tree, by means of
a sticky saliva which is secreted by glands in
the bird's mouth. Their only notes are rapidly
uttered squeaks heard only when the bird is
flying. They are about five and one-half inches
in length. They usually rear two broods each
year, but their precarious nesting sites render
the fate of their broods somewhat uncertain.
They range in summer from Florida to Labra-
dor, wintering in Central America. They arrive
toward the end of April.

At Katahdin Iron Works, in the Maine woods,
there is an old furnace with a stone chimney

ClllMXKV SWIFT

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 211

some ten feet square, long since abandoned.
This is the home of scores, probably hundreds
of these birds. At twilight, when they are most
active, there is a stream of sooty Swifts passing
in and out with a booming sound as of distant
thunder. This has been their favorite haunt for
many years, furnishing more space for their nests
than would many chimneys; and it is much safer,
as there is no danger of their being smoked out.

Nighthawk. Two birds often confused in
the public mind are the Nighthawk and Whip-
poorwill. They belong to the same family, are
about the same size, ten inches in length, and
there is at first glance a similarity in coloring.
But in notes, flight and habits in general, they
are quite unlike; and a little care in observation
will enable one to discriminate between them
with absolute certainty.

The Nighthawk is not often seen perched, but
on the wing they are common enough in city
and country. They are not much in evidence
in the early part of the day, but in the afternoon
they course about, often at a height of several
hundred feet, in what seems to us very erratic
movements, catching the insects which consti-
tute their entire food supply. They have no
song, but their only note, a nasal '^peent, peent^''^
is often heard far into the night; and it seems
they can see to feed in the dark as w^ell as in
the daylight.

Some of their aerial evolutions are quite
startling. Every now and then as one of these
birds flics about, he will suddenly plunge down-
ward with a great swoop, sometimes so near to

212 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

the ground that you will fear for his safety.
But in good time he turns sharply and grace-
fully upward, and goes unharmed on his zig-zag
course. The downward plunge is accompanied
by a deep booming sound caused by the rush
of air through the stiff primaries. So the Night-
hawk is sometimes called the "bass trumpet
player in Nature's orchestra."

While the Nighthawk is about the size of the
Robin, because of the long wings they seem
much larger in flight. The upper parts are
blackish marked with irregular spots of white
or cream-buif . The black tail has broken bars of
cream-buff", and the outer feathers are banded
with white near the tips. The breast is black and
the throat has a white patch; otherwise the under
parts are barred with black and white. The best
field mark when the bird is in flight is the white
spot on either wing, which looks like a hole.

When not on the wing the Nighthawk perches
on a low limb, fence rail, rock, and even on the
ground, if there are no trees or other perches
about. In the city he rests on flat-roofed houses.
Sometimes the two eggs are deposited on a loose
pile of sticks; often there is no nest at all and
the eggs are laid on the bare rock or house roof.
The eggs are said to vary in color, seemindy
the better to harmonize with the surrounding
objects. Nighthawks range in summer from the
Gulf of Mexico to Labrador, and winter in
South America. They are among the arrivals of
late May.

Whippoorwill. While the Nighthawk is
rarely seen except in flight, the Whippoorwill

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 213

is rarely seen at all, but is well known by his
weird call, a cry so strange and so emphatic that
it is most startling, especially when heard near
at hand in the deepening twilight. When the
songsters have closed their evening praise ser-
vice and settled quietly on some safe perch for
the night, this nocturnal wanderer sallies forth
for his period of activity. Low over bush-grown
pasture or old field on noiseless wing he courses
back and forth, picking up a meal of insects as
he goes.

At intervals he lights and takes up his metal-
lic call ''' whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,^^ wholly
unlike any other sound in Nature, so strange and
characteristic that it will never be mistaken.
This alternate feeding and *' whipping" is kept
up for several hours, then the bird rests for a
time. Toward morning, before the other birds
are astir, he sets out again and seeks his break-
fast, finally with the coming of dawn settling
down for the day.

The Whippoorwill always perches, or rather
crouches, lengthwise of limb, fence rail, rock, or
other object, because its small, weak feet do not
seem strong enough to enable it to cling to a
perch as do other birds. Its colors are such as to
harmonize with its chosen surroundings, from
which fact the bird seems to derive a deep sense
of security, for you may approach very close
before it will seek safety in flight. The general
color is reddish-brown, mottled with grayish-
black and dusky white. The most conspicuous
mark is a white band, or crescent, across the
throat; the tip end half of the outer tail feathers

214 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

is also white. The lower parts are cream-buff
wdth irregular markings of brow^n. The bill, flat
and very wide at the base, is surrounded by
stiff, bristlelike feathers like the feelers of a cat.
Perhaps they fulfill the same purpose! As this
bird is rarely seen in daylight, its appearance
is little know^n.

Whippoorwills, as a rule, build no nests,
but lay the two dark eggs spotted with creamy
w^hite in a slight hollow on the ground, on a
bare rock, log or stump. They range in sum-
mer from Virginia to New Brunswick and winter
from Florida to Central America. They arrive
in late April or early May. Little is known
regarding their migrations, as they journey
by night. Like Nighthawks, Whippoorwills
are excellent friends of man, since their food
consists wholly of insects. They destroy count-
less numbers of these pests, thereby adding
greatly to the return from orchard, field and
garden.

Starling. This is the only American repre-
sentative of an Old World family that numbers
something like two hundred species. More than
twenty years ago about thirty pairs of Star-
lings were imported from England and set free
in Central Park, New York City. They have
found the climate and food conditions so satis-
factory that they have increased greatly in
number, and now are very numerous in all
boroughs of Greater New York. They are grad-
ually increasing their range and are now found
more than a hundred miles away.

Starlings are gregarious except during the

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 215

nesting season. One autumn day, in Flatbush,
near Shcepshead Bay, I saw a flock that I be-
lieved numbered several thousand birds. It
is said that in England as many as one hun-
dred thousand will gather in a flock, and w^hen
they settle in a field of ripe grain the damage
done is serious. It seems now that these birds
are likely to increase here to an extent that will
make them a menace to the farmer and gardener.
Perhaps, after all, it is unwise to upset the bal-
ance Nature has set by transporting birds from
their natural habitat. At least in the cases of the
English Sparrow and the Starling there is grave
doubt as to the wisdom of their importation.

Starlings are, however, not to be classed with
English Sparrows in any way, for they are at-
tractive, happy little fellows whose great variety
of calls and whistles will keep one interested for
a long time. I have often looked for the boy
whose whistles came distinctly to my ear, only
to find not a boy but a bird perched on limb or
chimney top, so mischievous and saucy in his
bearing that I could almost believe he was
aware of the deception he was practicing. They
are attractively clad in short-tailed suits of
black with metallic lustre. The feathers are
minutely tipped with buff, giving the bird, at
some seasons, a speckled appearance when seen
close at hand. The under parts are grayish-
brown, and the bill is yellow. The female is
rusty brown. They are slightly more than
eight inches long.

Starlings nest in hollow trees, crevices about
roofs and towers, in leaders and comers of house

216 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

roofs; in fact, in anyplace sufficiently sheltered
to meet their needs. They seem especially fond
of a neatly constructed birdhouse set safely
above the range of the house cat. The nest is
loosely made of grasses and twigs. The four to
six pale-blue eggs are usually laid in early May.

Starlings have no song in the true sense, but
they have a great variety of calls and whistles
that are highly pleasing, especially when heard
in the heart of the city where bird notes are so
rare. Perched some distance above the ground,
with swelling throat and drooping wings, they
call and whistle for a considerable time, then
drop down to the lawn or garden, where they
walk about looking for the crumbs, berries, grain,
insects, etc., which make up their food. They
are permanent residents. The extent of their
ultimate range in America is a very interesting
question.

Northern Shrike. This is a bird that comes
down to us in the fall from his summer range
in Canada. He has not a good reputation and
his bad habits have given him the name of
Butcher Bird, which, it seems, he well deserves.
In appearance, he is rather sleek and well
groomed, and his colors are pleasing. The upper
parts are a handsome slate-gray; the wings, tail
and a stripe extending from the eye to the back
of the head are black. The under parts are
whitish, washed with brown. The tail is tipped
with white and there are dashes of white on the
wings, plainly seen in flight. The black bill is
hooked like that of hawks and other birds of
prey.

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 217

The silent flight of the Butcher Bird is usually
low, but as he alights he turns upward to a high
perch where he may overlook the surrounding
landscape. His food consists of mice, lizards,
grasshoppers, beetles, and small birds of
many kinds. Frequently he kills more prey
than his immediate needs demand and the sur-
plus he impales on thorns or barbed wire fence,
or hangs in the crotch of a limb, for future
use. His sudden appearance in a flock of small
birds causes great consternation and there is
quick seeking of cover. Oftentimes he catches
several from a single family and the bird chorus
is sadly lessened. The fact that he is a consist-
ent foe of the English Sparrow has led some
bird writers to condone his faults, and they
also plead his cause because of the great
number of insects and vermin he destroys. No
doubt, much as we regret his killing of our
songsters, he does much more good than harm
and should be encouraged, rather than destroyed.
I confess it has not always been easy for
me to refrain from using harsh measures
when this marauder in gray appears on the
lawn, watching furtively the flock of Song Spar-
rows playing about the vines. But I am con-
strained to believe he is on the whole beneficial.

The Northern Shrike has a harsh, squally cry,
*'yor^^, " and in the mating season they sing a
song of considerable merit that has been likened
to the melody of the Catbird. Only once have
I heard this and I was quite surprised at the
excellence of the effort, for I had never attached
the gift of song to this cruel bird. They nest in

218 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Canada, wandering southward in winter, some-
times as far as Virginia. They are about ten
inches in length.

Loggerhead Shrike. This is a smaller coun-
terpart of the Butcher Bird, so nearly like
him in plumage that only by close observation
can they be distinguished. The breast of the
Loggerhead is pure white, or gray, and the black
stripes on the side of the head meet on the fore-
head. They are one and one-half inches shorter
than the Northern Shrike. In feeding and nest-
ing habits they are much alike, but the logger-
head has not quite so unsavory a reputation
regarding the killing of small birds. Yet I feel
sure they destroy fledglings and eggs, if not
adult birds.

For several years a pair of these Shrikes
nested in a hackmatack tree by the roadside a
half mile from our house. The nest, like that of
the Blue Jay, was made of twigs and lined
with coarse grass, and carefully hidden in a
thick clump of limbs. About the first of August
the parent birds would appear on our premises
and from some exposed perch, the tiptop limb
of an apple tree or telephone post, keep watch
for passing prey. While I never actually caught
them at mischief, I felt that the evidence against
them was very^ strong. Early one morning there
was an outcry from the Robin's nest in a low
elm across the road. On going out we found the
nest awry and the eggs gone; the Shrike was
seen on a pole not far away. A Song Sparrow
built a nest for its second brood in the thick
woodbine just over the stable door. The nest

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 219

was very deep and securely fastened. When the
young were about half grown a disturbance was
heard one day while we were at dinner. Upon
investigation we found the nest upset and the dead
fledglings on the ground with the tops of their
skulls torn off. The Shrike was about, and we
felt very sure he was the culprit. They also eat
beetles, grasshoppers, mice, lizards, etc. The
Loggerhead is not a musician and its call notes
are harsh. They breed over the United States
from Minnesota east, south to Virginia, and in
the lower Mississippi valley. Their winter range
is somewhat farther south.

Bob-white. A small cousin of the Ruffed
Grouse is the Partridge, or Virginia Quail, more
familiarly known as Bob-white. This bird has
furnished so much sport for the hunter that his
range is now much diminished and his numbers
are greatly reduced. Formerly they were found
as far north as Maine, but now have practically
disappeared from that State and they are much
less numerous in southern New England.

Bob-white's dress is very tasteful. There are
no brilliant colors, to be sure, but the blending
of black, browns and grays is very pleasing and
aids him much in concealment, for he is dis-
tinctly a ground-dwelling bird.

The upper parts are mottled browns and black,
the under parts buff, or whitish marked with
black and brown. The throat and forehead of
the male are white and there is a white line over
the eye; these markings on the female are buff.

The simple nest of leaves and grass is placed
on the ground under a protecting bush, stump

220 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

or grass tuft. The white eggs are numerous,
from twelve to twenty, and frequently two
broods are reared in a season. The young run
as soon as hatched and will hide in the leaves
like little Grouse. There are few more cunning
creatures than these little chicks when a few
days old. At night and whenever they need pro-
tection, the little mother gathers her brood
under her like a hen, spreading her wings and
feathers to cover them all.

Bob-white is a permanent resident through-
out his habitat, which covers the Eastern States
and lower Canada. They rarely venture far
from their native woods and fields, and, if left
undisturbed, will breed year after year in the
same locality. The families remain together
through the winter unless broken up by the
hunter, prowling fox or weasel. Toward
spring they scatter, mating in April. Then is
heard their well known call, ''bob-white, bob-
white,'''' so plainly uttered that their name is de-
termined by it. There is a plaintive tone to this
call that is quite appealing, and heard in the
twilight of a soft spring day it compels a feeling
of pity for his loneliness. They are friendly
little fellows, visiting the garden to pick up
grubs, seeds and scattered grain. But for our
unfriendliness they would become as tame as
Sparrows.

Chapter XIV
HAWKS AND OWLS

"True to the season, o'er our sea-beat shore.
The sailing osprey high is seen to soar."

— Alexander Wilson.

Part I

HAWKS

In this chapter are considered Hawks and
Owls, two families of birds that belong to the
same order, the so-called birds of prey, having
similar feeding habits. There has been con-
siderable change of sentiment in this country
in recent years regarding these birds, largely
due to reports sent out from the Agricultural
Department at Washington giving the truth
regarding their food. Formerly it was believed
that Hawks and Owls fed largely upon small
birds, chickens, doves, etc., and, in consequence,
there was much prejudice against them, and
every farmer's gun was ready to destroy them
indiscriminately whenever opportunity offered.
But now that the truth has been discovered re-
garding these ''outlaws of bird land," it is found
that the real culprits belong to a few varieties
and that only a small part of their food is made
up of birds and chickens. In fact, they destroy
a very large number of mice and other rodents,
shrews and moles, grasshoppers and other ub=

221

222 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

sects, toads, snakes, etc., thereby rendering the
farmer a real service which he too long has over-
looked. Two or three varieties of Hawks, how-
ever, are poultry lovers, and will make consid-
erable inroads in the farmyard if their course is
not intercepted.

The general makeup of the Hawks is quite
adapted to their needs as hunters. Their colors,
grays and browns, are unobtrusive, their strong
wings give them power of direct, swift flight,
and their talons and bills are just suited to their
uses. Nature has very well equipped these
birds for the methods they pursue.

Marsh Hawk. This is the silver gray Hawk
with the white patch on the rump, seen so often
in summer flying low over the meadow^s, darting
and turning in a most erratic course in search
of mice and other dwellers in the thick grass.
Often when hunting he utters a shrill cry which
may be for the purpose of frightening small
creatures into sudden movements, thus be-
traying their presence to this sharp-eyed de-
stroyer.

This is a large Hawk, nearly twenty inches in
length. The male, female and immature birds
all diflPer in coloring. His color is distinctly gray,
while theirs is quite brown. The upper parts and
breast of the male are gray with the tail coverts
white and black bars on the tail. The under
parts are white with brown spots and bars.
With the female the upper parts are dark brown,
streaked on head and neck with lighter brown.
Below the color is buflf, streaked with dark
brown. She, too, has a white patch on the

HAWKS AND OWLS 223

rump. The }'oung are darker above than the
female, and much darker below.

The nest of the Marsh Hawk, on the ground
in a swamp, is made of weeds, grass, rushes, etc.,
usually well concealed by its surroundings.
The three to five pale bluish eggs are sometimes
spotted with brown, but more often they are
plain.

During the mating season the Marsh Hawk
performs some strange antics in the air. Some-
times he will fiy very high and then letting go,
as it were, come tumbling down almost to the
ground, utternig a shrill cry. It almost seems he
is about to dash himself to pieces on the ground,
but just in time he recovers himself and circles
about in a rational way again. No doubt the
purpose of these queer actions is to excite the
admiration of the female, since he has no dulcet
tones with which to woo her. This is a migrant
Hawk, appearing in the vicinity of New York
in April and departing in mid-autumn. Their
range is very broad, but they are not numerous
in any locality.

The Sharp-shinned Hawk. This is a Hawk
of bad reputation, whose habits no doubt have
done much to give an evil name to the whole
family. He has well earned the name Hen Hawk.
The appetite for small birds and chickens seems
very keen in him and he is exceedingly wxll
equipped for his career as a true hunter.
Their flight is low and very swift and they are
bold to a remarkable degree. Sometimes one
of these Hawks will plunge into a poultry
yard and, almost in the owTier's face, seize

224 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

a chicken, apparently without fear of conse-
quences. He will sometimes dart into a flock
of song birds and with deadly precision pick out
his chosen victim almost before the alarm can
be given. Then away he flies to some safe perch
where he may devour his prey at leisure.

This Hawk is about a foot in length, and the
tail is square, an excellent field mark. The
upper parts are bluish-gray in color, the prima-
ries being barred with blackish. The gray tail
has a whitish tip with black bars across it. The
under parts are white barred with buff. The
plumage of young birds shows more brown.

They are often seen flying in small circles
high in air, when they may be known by their
small size and square tails. They nest in the
woods in tall trees and are permanent residents
in southern New England and the Middle
States. In summer they range somewhat farther
north.

Cooper's Hawk. This Hawk resembles the
foregoing in color, except that the crown is
blackish. It is much larger, being about sixteen
inches in length, and the tail is well rounded, a
good field mark. This, too, is a real Hen Hawk
and is even more destructive than the Sharp-
shinned, because it is so much larger and stronger.
When once this Hawk has had a taste of chicken
it is not an easy matter to guard the flock against
his persistent attacks. About the only safeguard
then is to keep the poultry housed. These
Hawks will attack and carry away rabbits,
squirrels. Grouse, and under extreme conditions,
even full-grown fowl. Its range is about the

HAWKS AND OWLS 225

same as that of the Sharp-shinned, except that
it nests somewhat farther north. Its nesting
habits, too, are practically the same.

Red -shouldered Hawk. This is a large Hawk,
about twenty inches in length. As is the case
in almost all the varieties of this family, the
female is notably larger than the male, a fact
not easily accounted for. The head, back and
rump are dark brown, mixed with lighter shades
of tan. The shoulders are a handsome chestnut-
browTi, giving the bird its name. The black of
the wings is mixed with white and there are
white bars on the tail. The under parts are
rusty brown, barred with whitish. Although
this bird is also called a Hen Hawk, it does not
deserve the name, for very rarely it invades the
farmyard, and only when in extreme need of
food. They subsist, for the most part, on small
mammals, insects, reptiles, and rarely on small
birds.

These Hawks usually build a nest of twigs,
leaves and moss in a tall evergreen tree, in the
dense forest. They are great lovers of soli-
tude, although often observed in the open. The
breeding season is April. They are frequently
seen sailing in graceful circles in the upper air,
when they utter a shrill ^'kee-you, kee-you.'*^
They range throughout eastern North America
north to Quebec and Manitoba, and are resi-
dent throughout, except probably in the most
northern part. These birds are of great value
to the farmer because of the large number of
pests they destroy, while the injury they work
through the stealing of fowl is negligible.

226 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Red-tailed Hawk. The male of this species
is about twenty inches in length, the female
twenty-three. The colors are much like those of
the Red-shouldered, except that it does not have
the red shoulders; but it does have a chestnut-
red tail, which has determined its name. The
back is mottled brown and white, the under
parts are whitish with brown streaks, and there
is a broken band of the same color across the
belly.

It ranges practically over the same region, and
its feeding and nesting habits are similar to those
of the last variety. Its cry, however, is unlike
and quite characteristic, a shrill, long-drawn
note which has been likened to the sound of
escaping steam. They are resident throughout
the greater portion of their summer range.

Sparrow Hawk. Of our common Hawks this
is the smallest and the most numerous. The male
and female are of about the same size, ten inches
in length. The crown is bluish-gray and there
are white cheeks, with black stripes before and
behind. I'he wings are slaty blue, barred with
black. TPie rump, back and tail are dark brown
with bars of chestnut. The under parts are
buffy spotted with black. With the female the
under parts are heavily streaked with darker
buff. The sharply curved bill is slate colored,
and the eyes are red. This combination of color
together with the rather sprightly bearing of
this little Hawk makes him, in appearance at
least, a very attractive bird.

You will often see the Sparrow Hawk perched
on an old stub or telephone post on the lookout

SI'ARKdW HAWK

HAWKS AND OWLS 227

for his rations, various insects, mice, toads,
frogs, spiders and rarely, small birds. Often,
too, he is seen hovering on rapidly vibrating
wings over the field, then dropping into the
grass for grasshopper or mouse his keen eye has
detected. His prey secured, he seeks his perch
again, where his meal may be enjoyed. His
flight call, "killy, killy, killy,'' has given him
the name in some localities of the Killy Hawk.
While the name Sparrow Hawk is not deserved
in all cases, yet they do destroy at times many of
the smaller defenceless songsters.

The Sparrow Hawk ranges in summer north-
ward into Canada, and winters south of New
York. The nest is usually built in a hollow tree,
or in the abandoned hole of a Woodpecker.
The four or five brown-spotted eggs are laid in
early May.

Pigeon Hawk. This Hawk derives its name
from its likeness, both when perched and in
flight, to the Wild Pigeon. Its dress is not so
attractive as that of the Sparrow Hawk, and it
is larger, being about a foot in length. Since
their nesting range is north of the United States,
they are known in the Eastern States only
as migrants. They winter from the Southern
States to South America. In the spring they are
seen in migration toward the end of April and
in early May, and are again in evidence during
September and October.

With the Pigeon Hawk the upper parts are
slaty blue; the under parts vary from light to
dark buff, splashed with brown. There is a col-
lar of rusty brown about the neck, the tail has

228 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

several distinct white bars and a white tip.
They nest in hollow trees and sometimes in in-
accessible cliffs. They are usually found in small
growth or in the open country and are less shy
than any Hawk we have studied. Their food is
like that of the Killy, and they destroy small birds.

Broad-winged Hawk. This is another mem-
ber of the Hawk family that may be regarded as
especially beneficial to man, because of the
large number of pests it destroys in the shape of
mice, shrews, moles, grasshoppers, squirrels,
etc. Many times in the forest where it is usually
found, I have mistaken its peculiar cry for one
of the notes of the Wood Pewee, a rather plain-
tive '^kii-e-e-e. " This Hawk will perch for a long
time on an old stub by the side of pond or stream
watching for its prey; again for hours at a time
it will be seen sailing in broad circles high above
its forest home. They are usually quite tame
and in their woodland retreats may be seen
close at hand. The nest, usually placed high in
a tree, is made of sticks, bark and leaves. The
eggs, three or four in number, are white, spotted
with lavender and various shades of brown.
They range in summer throughout eastern
North America to New Brunswick, wintering
from the Southern States southward.

The Broad-winged Hawk is about sixteen
inches long. The upper parts are grayish-brown
margined with buff. There are two bars on the
tail, which has a whitish tip. The under parts
are whitish, heavily marked with cross stripes
of brown. The three outer primaries are notched
and are without the buff margins.

HAWKS AND OWLS 229

Fish Hawk. The food habits of this bird have
determined its name, for it eats nothing but
fish, and, in consequence, has become an expert
fisher. It is a most thrilHng sight to see one of
these birds when slowly flying high above the
water suddenly stop and hang for a moment on
rapidly moving wing, then like a rock plunge
straight down, strike the water with a great
splash, seize the unsuspecting fish in its long,
curved claws, and slowly rising with the wriggling
prey tightly clasped, move away to some con-
venient stub where the meal may be enjoyed
without interruption. It is not always success-
ful, and has to plunge again and again before
securing its prey, but it is persistent, and knows
no other method of obtaining its food supply.

The Fish Hawk, or Osprey as it is often called,
is a large bird, measuring two feet in length and
the wing spread is often nearly or quite five feet.
The back is dark brown, almost black, and there
is much white on the head and upper neck; the
throat and breast are pure white with grayish-
brown markings; the wings are somewhat
sprinkled with grayish-white and there are dim
bands of the same color across the tail. The
male has the suggestion of a crown.

Ospreys are poor architects. They usually
build, in a tall tree or on some inaccessible cliff,
a rough nest of sticks with little lining to pro-
tect the young birds. They will return to the
same nest year after year, adding to the struc-
ture until it is a great heap. Where these birds
are carefully protected, as on Gardiner's Island,
they nest on the shore, sometimes in colonies

230 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

of several pairs. The eggs, two to four in num-
ber, vary much in color. Sometimes they are
plain, dull white, again they are almost wholly
dark brown. Usually they are creamy buff,
spotted with dark brown. This Hawk ranges
in summer from Florida to Labrador, and win-
ters from the Carolinas to South America.

Part II
OWLS

**If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight,
He is lord in the dark greenwood! "

— Proctor.

While Hawks are daylight hunters. Owls, for
the most part, are prowlers of the dark. When
the shades of night fall and most of the inhab-
itants of bird land are settling down for the
night, Owls waken from their day dreams, and,
as the darkness deepens, begin to look about
for their daily rations. Owing to the peculiar
structure of the eye. Owls see much better by
night than by day; in fact, they seem nearly
blind in the full light of the sun, while in the
dark they can make their way even in the forest
and locate their prey seemingly with the great-
est ease. In the gloom which pervades thick
evergreen woods even at midday they can see
to fly about, but are much more active at night.
Another peculiarity of structure renders it im-
possible for them to roll their eyes in the sockets,

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HAWKS AND OWLS 231

so the)' have to turn the head when changing
the direction of sight.

Chvls, too, are very well equipped for hunting.
Although they cannot dart upon their victims
as swiftly as the Hawks, the soft and fluffy
feathers render their flight quite noiseless, and
they require less speed as their prey is usually
asleep. The strong talons are excellent hooks for
holding their victims, which, unless too large,
are swallowed whole. The food of the various
species is much the same, consisting of small
mammals, mice, shrews, squirrels, rabbits and
sometimes birds. Only rarely do the larger
Owls visit the farmyard, so that poultry plays
a small part in their menu. They are more ben-
eficial to the farmer than are the Hawks, and,
consequently, there is even less reason for their
destruction. They are, for the most part, dwel-
lers of the deep woods, where the browns and
grays of their plumage aid them in concealment.
The eggs of all varieties are white. Of the nearly
two hundred species known throughout the
world about twenty are found in the United
States, and eight or nine are common in the
Eastern States.

Screech Owl. This small Owl, the most com-
mon of the family, is well known from the weird,
unearthly cry which startles not a little one who
is unfamiliar with it. During July and August,
after the young are reared, their cry is often
heard in the open country, for they frequently
build their nests in outbuildings of the farm, or
in a hollow tree in the orchard. Often in the
daytime one will see this Owl sitting on some

232 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

low perch, blinking in the sun as though much
bewildered. Not long since, I approached one
within arm's length as he sat on a low tree, and
was about to seize him when he took sudden
flight.

Among Screech Owls there is a wide difference
in coloring not easy to explain. Some are gray;
others in the same brood may be distinctly
brown. The back is minutely streaked and
spotted with gray or reddish-brown and black.
The under parts are grayish, streaked with
brown and black. There are two tufts of dark
feathers, like ears, and the large eyes are yellow.
They are about ten inches long. They range
over the Eastern States, rarely as far north as
Maine, and are resident throughout. They de-
stroy many mice, grasshoppers, crickets, beetles
and other insects.

Saw-whet Owls. This Owl also derives its
name from its peculiar cry which much re-
sembles the sounds made in filing a saw. It is
the smallest of our common Owls, only eight
inches in length. It is a dweller of the woods,
with a more northern range than the Screech
Owl, and it moves southward in the winter, in
search of food, but is not regarded as a migrant.
I have often found them about deserted logging-
camps in the woods of Maine, where they are
common in summer.

The Saw-whet Owl's upper parts are cinna-
mon-brown, with the head, back and tail
streaked and spotted with white. The under
parts are white streaked with brown. The feet
and legs are covered with brownish-white

r.AKKIll) OWL

HAWKS AND OWLS TV^

feathers. The eyes are yellow and there are no
ear tufts. They usually nest in hollow trees, a
deserted Woodpecker hole being a favorite
place. Their food consists of mice and other
rodents, insects of various kinds, and small birds.

Barred Owl. A common resident in wooded
regions is the Barred, or Hoot Owl, a name
which arises from his cr}% w^hich comes at night
from his forest retreat. '' Whoo-zuhoo; whoo-whoo;
zuhoo-zuhoo-ah^ " he calls, often repeating the cry
at intervals through the night. In my boyhood
the belief was that the call of the Hoot Owl be-
tokened rain, but I am not at all sure that he is
a safe prognosticator of the weather. Many a
time in the darkest nights we heard this weird
interrogation from the dark woods on Sailor's
Island, and no doubt it was more distinctly
audible in the calm before a storm.

This is a good-sized bird, twenty inches in
length. The upper parts are grayish brown.
The fine bars of black and dark brown which
are seen on the back, neck, rump, tail and
breast give him the name Barred Owl. The sides
and belly are broadly streaked with brown and
the legs and feet are feathered to the toes.
There are no ear tufts and the eyes are black, in
this particular differing from all other members
of the family. The large, hooked bill is ivory-
white. Their home is usually in a hollow tree,
or the abandoned nest of Hawk or Crow. They
feed upon poultry, game-birds, mice, frogs,
lizards, insects, etc. This Owl ranges over
eastern North America as far north as New-
foundland and is a permanent resident, except
in the extreme northern portion.

234 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Long-eared Owl. In size this Owl is midway
between the Screech Owl and the Barred, being
about fifteen inches long. The best field mark
is the long tufts, or ears, of black bordered by-
white or buffy. The upper parts are dusky
mottled with white and buff. The tail has sev-
eral cross bars of dark brown. The under parts
are white and buff, streaked and barred with
brown.

This Owl, too, is a dweller in the dense ever-
green woods and it is said hunts only at night.
In the daytime it sits quietly in some thicket
and may be approached close enough to have
its picture taken. It usually lays its eggs in an
old nest of Hawk, Crow or squirrel. They are
permanent residents as far north as Nova Scotia,
but are not common in the northern part of this
region.

Short-eared Owl. This Owl is a daylight hun-
ter and a resident of marsh and meadow. He
remains so still in his grassy retreat that you
almost step on him before he stirs. When in
quest of food he courses back and forth over the
meadows in search of mice of which he is very
fond. The nest of grasses is built on the ground.

They vary in length from fourteen to seven-
teen inches. The back, wings, head, neck and
tail are mottled black, brown and gray. The
white under parts are streaked with brown.
There are two small ear tufts of dark, edged with
white. They are found throughout North Amer-
ica, breeding north of Virginia.

Great Gray Owl. This very large Owl lives
north of the United States and comes down to

HAWKS AND OWLS 235

us occasionally in winter. It is a rare bird and
is growing scarcer. It is twenty-seven inches
long. The upper parts are dark brown mottled
with white; the under parts white, streaked on
the breast and belly with brown.

Snow^'- Owl. The Snowy Owl is a northern
dweller, nesting from Labrador northward, and
coming to the United States only in winter,
when the food supply there is lessened by the
cold and deep snows. During some winters the
flight is numerous; at other times there are only
stragglers. This Owl is a daylight hunter, and
his habits are not unlike those of some Hawks.
From a commanding perch he will swoop down
upon a ground-dwelling creature, luckless rab-
bit, squirrel or weasel that chances under his
gleaming eyes; or boldly he will launch out to
overhaul Grouse, Pigeon, or other bird. Their
prowess as hunters of hares has given them in
Sweden the name Harfang or Harecatcher.

During these winter invasions they are even
more plentiful on the seashore than inland, for
they are skillful fishermen. Swooping down from
a perch that overhangs the water, this fisher,
like the Osprey, grips the fish in his strong claws,
then eats it at leisure on some near-by stub.

The Snowy Owl is more than two feet long.
Like all dwellers of the far North, the prevailing
tone is white. There are bars of brown larger
and more numerous on the female and young.
Their feet and legs are covered with thick, warm
feathers, excellent protection against extreme
cold.

Chapter XV
THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE

"Now is the high tide of the year,

Its arms outstretched, the druid wood
Waits with its benedicite,"

— Lowell.

Part I

For the greater part of June I have been liv-
ing in a snug cabin built of peeled spruce logs
and roofed with splits of cedar, one of a dozen
similarly constructed, set in a small clearing in
the heart of the forest. To the north and south,
ten miles or more in either direction, stretches
away a little valley, well protected to the east and
west by the massive bulk of mountains.

Some four miles to the northwest of my cabin
rises the towering form of Mt. Baker. Its lower
slopes are clad in the cheerful green of beech and
maple, birch and poplar, but the steep sides
and summit display the more somber shades of
spruce and fir. On the hither side from crest to
base extends a deep scar with surface torn and
barren, except for straggling ricks of green
bushes. Nature's attempt to hide the wound.
Years ago an avalanche swept away trees and
earth, and, gaining momentum as it plunged
downward, ploughed deep into the mountain

236

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 237

side, even laying bare the granite ribs. The
forces of Nature here displayed their might, and
centuries will scarcely repair the damage done
in a moment.

When the air is clear the slide seems near at
hand and every detail of its ragged face is seen
distinctly; but when the mists gather, and at
twilight, it appears indistinct and far away as
though receding in the uncertain light, a fitting
playground, you would say, for the giant spirits
with which the Indians 'in the old days were
wont to people these lonely mountains.

To the left of Baker and reaching well around
into the west rises the lesser height of Big Ele-
phant, its name suggested by the peculiar out-
line of the long summit. Just below appear the
rugged forms of the Indians, Big and Little, with
Chairback well to the south. The entire range
is thickly clad with coniferous trees, forming a
ponderous wall of sheltering green. To the east
the valley is also protected by a long range, low
to the south but rising higher and higher in each
succeeding peak until in the northeast it cul-
minates in the lofty crest of White Cap, a grand
and symmetrical mountain, its gracefully slop-
ing sides surmounted by a shining rock mass
which gives its name.

Through the valley thus guarded, in winding
course, flows a small river, at the nearest point
scarcely a hundred yards distant from the clear-
ing. This stream varies much in character.
For long stretches the current moves sluggishly,
with deep pools here and there, dark and myste-
rious from the dense shade of the overhanging

238 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

forest; again it hurries down some long incline,
rippling and gurgling good-naturedly over its
pebble-strewn bed; then gathering itself, it
plunges grandly downward, roaring and seeth-
ing in its haste. This stream has been fittingly
named the Pleasant River.

Stretching away on all sides is the vast forest
threaded by numerous trails, some made by
man in his restless search for its wily denizens,
others by the wild folk themselves in the count-
less years since first it became their abode.
Moose and deer, bear and lynx range its shel-
tering depths, and many smaller animals here
find that degree of solitude which they desire
in a permanent abiding place.

At times these wild folk from the thickets
look out upon us, curious as to the character of
the strange beings who dare to invade their
haunts. Often when twilight steals over the
forest in the little clearing is heard the blowing
of a startled deer, as he catches the scent of
smoke from the smudge fires quite necessary at
this season of the year, if one is to enjoy by day
or night even a partial relief from the attack
of myriads of insects. One evening as darkness
was falling a moose stalked stolidly out of the
woods, and, passing between the cabins, halted
for a moment in the garden, evidently consider-
ing the prospects for future feasts, then silently
passed into the gloom again. Now and then a
hedgehog in broad day pays us a visit, slowly
and ponderously working his way along the
trail; and he, too, vanishes into the forest.
From the many tracks seen in the soft earth,

TLKASAN 1 KI\1:N

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 239

Other of the wild folk look out upon us, but their
instinctive wariness keeps them within the shel-
ter of the thicket.

Five minutes' walk from the clearing is a small
pond, a dozen acres or so in extent, its low
shores bordered with a rank growth of reeds and
sedge-grass. This is known as First Pond and in
summer is a favorite haunt of deer that seek
relief in the cool water from the attack of flies
and gnats while feeding upon the lush grasses
and tender twigs along its shores.

Just beyond First Pond, and reached by a
trail leading over a spruce ridge, is another pond
much larger but very shallow throughout the
greater part of its extent. This is known as
Second Pond and is a favorite feeding ground
for moose. So secluded is it that during all hours
of the day they venture to wade far out, greedily
tearing from the bottom the great roots of the
yellow lily that there grows in profusion. The
waters of both ponds and the river are inhabited
by many trout which are eagerly sought by
such disciples of the rod as make their way to
this sylvan retreat.

Here, too, dwell many feathered folk — perma-
nent residents accustomed to a life remote from
the regular haunts of men, and summer vis-
itors, many of whom have journeyed from the
far distant tropics in search of a secluded nest-
ing ground. On my arrival in earl}' June I was
much impressed by the great number of birds,
and also by the many strangers of w^hich I had
caught but a fleeting glimpse, or had not seen
at all in my observation during the migration

240 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

at my home two hundred miles south. Evidently
they had slipped by unseen at night, or in the
shelter of the woods.

Straggling representatives of several familiar
varieties of the open country are here, but some
of them seem much changed and, in a way, out of
place so far in the deep forest. Our old friend,
the Robin, is about, but he has lost much of the
vivacity and cheerfulness which characterize
him in the open country. A pair is nesting in
a small fir within ten feet of my cabin, and in
the early morning I hear them running on the
roof just above my head. But they are strangely
silent and even when I approach the nest their
protests are feeble and half-hearted. Not once
have I heard their jolly rain song. Occasionally
they gather on the green before the door for a
brief frolic, but there is a lacking evidence of
that deep sense of contentment which one usu-
ally observes in this domestic bird during the
nesting season.

A pair of Bluebirds has chosen a deserted
Woodpecker's hole not far away and they, too,
seem to be depressed by the gloom of the wil-
derness. Only rarely do I hear a note from this
usually joyous singer, the plaintive ''jar-a-way^
jar-a-way^'' that is oftener heard in the autumn.
A solitary pair of Song Sparrows is nesting in
the clearing, but I have not been able to exactly
locate their home. Very rarely do I hear their
song, and then it is poorly executed, spiritless,
and cut short several notes. They seem to
have lost the sublime courage and light-hearted-
ness which we are accustomed to associate with

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 241

these faithful friends of man, and I fear that
even their great optimism is here sadly shaken.

In a Httle house set at the end of a stout pole
erected on the ridge of the log bani, Tree Swal-
lows are rearing their young, and they appear
very happy and quite at home in these sur-
roundings. Their ancestors not many genera-
tions ago were forest dwellers, nesting in hollow
trees; so perhaps their racial love for solitude
has not become wholly extinct, even though
they are glad to accept the proffer of so cozy a
home. Every minute of the day they appear to
be seeking food for their nestlings, their cheery
low-voiced warbles expressing deep domestic
joy. I see so many of these birds about the
woods that I am sure they still resort to their
primitive nesting places, although I have not
been able to find them.

Many Chimney Swifts dart merrily about,
now over the forest, now skimming the surface
of pond and river, their rapidly uttered twitters
giving no suggestion of depressed spirits, al-
though here no wide-mouthed chimneys invite
them to make a home in their sooty depths.

To be sure, in several unoccupied cabins they
have invaded the stovepipes which serve in lieu
of chimneys, but their nest building efforts
there soon come to naught, as they are unable
to securely fasten the material to the smooth,
curved surface of the iron pipe. In consequence,
after a hard rain the nests will be found in the
little air-tight stoves. These birds, too, resort
to hollow trees, and it is not an unusual sight
to see them rising in a black line from the depths

242 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

of some decaying monarch which evidently
affords a secure nesting place for many pairs of
these "denizens of the dark. "

Several varieties that I have observed farther
south as rather silent, restless travelers during
migration here seem to have found the environ-
ment which develops the gayer side of their
natures, for they have become the merriest
minstrels, enlivening the long summer day with
happy song. Purple Finches that I know in the
open country for the most part as stragglers
here display new phases of character, being
both friendly and sociable.

The males are seen in bands roaming about
the edges of the clearing, a common rendezvous
being the tops of the rock maples where they
greedily feed upon the kernels of the queer,
wing-shaped seeds. Keen hunger well satisfied,
they burst forth in rollicking song, sometimes
in a series of solos, again in a chorus which is
charming beyond the possibilities of description.
The wonderful volume and richness of their care-
lessly flowing warbles are quite new to me.
And while I have long regarded them as among
our most delightful singers, here they far excel
in quality of note and vivacity of execution
their usual exquisite song; and frequently I
hear several additional notes quite unknown to
me. The post-prandial concert over, away they
go to the woods and soon their sparrow-like
mates are seen silently foraging. They nest in
the firs and spruces which fringe the clearing
and are our constant and much admired enter-
tainers.

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 243

Many dapper little Chipping Sparrows are
about the clearing, very busy just now with
their domestic affairs. They must be put to
some trouble to find horsehair enough to line
their numerous nests, for there are but two
horses here and most of their time is spent on
the tote-road to and from the settlement. Per-
haps they seek the same source of supply as did
the Junco whose ground-built nest was dis-
covered by accident.

One day while searching for a Warbler whose
song puzzled me, a Junco came from the near-by
thicket, bearing in her bill a strange-looking bur-
den, a wisp of something which projected on
either side like the feelers of a cat, having much
the appearance of snow-white silk floss. Wholly
devoid of fear, she lighted in a small fir within
arm's length, then from limb to limb descending
to the ground, disappeared in the thick ferns.
In a few moments she flew away and a brief
search revealed a well-built, cup-like nest lined
with crinkly white hair from a deer's tail! The
effect of this dainty lining against the dark
material of the nest was very odd, you may be
sure. Was not this an excellent illustration of
the versatility of these little friends of ours in
adapting the objects at hand to their needs .f*

Each daily visit to the nest revealed an addi-
tional egg until there were four, pure white,
thickly sprinkled with tiny brown spots. The
absolute silence of the bird as I approached the
nest seemed quite unusual. Not once when dis-
turbed did she utter a note, either of alarm or
curiosity, but sat quite still until my hand was

244 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

almost upon her. Then she sHpped silently into
the low limbs of her roof tree, watching me
closely but trustfully, as though convinced that
my visit was prompted by friendly interest
rather than ill-will. At all hours of the day, on
every hand, are heard the happy trills and
warbles of the Juncos, unmistakable signs of
contented hearts filled with the joy of life.

There are about the clearing three varieties
of the Thrush family besides the Robin, all sol-
itary and much more retiring in their habits than
when seen during migration. The wonderful
song of the Veery and the scarcely less charming
performance of the Olive-backed are heard dur-
ing all hours of the day, floating softly out from
the dense shade of the fir thickets, where the
gloom of twilight always prevails.

If one invades the dark depths to call upon
these sober-clad recluses, he is greeted by rather
harsh call notes, and catches a glimpse of shad-
owy forms flitting down the dusky aisles in the
half light; and silence reigns for a long time.
But if he is able to withstand the attack of
hosts of mosquitoes and black flies, and waits
patiently and very quietly, the sweet strains
will be taken up again, and so near at hand that
there will be heard certain preliminary under-
tones, not audible except at close range. Hear-
ing no sound of the Hermit for the first ten days
of my sojourn, I concluded that he had not
penetrated so far inland; but at sunset one
evening while fishing in Second Pond his song
came floating out to me, perfectly voiced, divine,
entrancing. After that I was more content in my
forest haven.

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 245

Were I asked what woodland dweller seen
during my stay here seems happiest, I should
name the male White-throat. Perched on the
topmost twig of a fir, the lower branches of
which shelter his mate as she patiently sits on the
five bluish-white, brown-speckled eggs, he seems
the very embodiment of earthly bliss. His abid-
ing faith in the happy outcome of his mate's
tender care has given a full rich tone to his song
that is quite a surprise to me. Much as I have
admired the plaintively sweet song of this bird
during migration, I was quite unprepared for
this delicious performance of the nesting season.
So sweetly confiding and trustful are his notes
that one feels them the frank expression of the
deepest sentiments of the heart. To my mind
there are few sweeter utterances in all bird land
than the nuptial song of the White-throat.

They are all about the clearing and along the
trails where bordered with fir and spruce.
Their call notes, the metallic ^^chink^' and a
shrill ^^pit^^ are very familiar sounds as I move
about, but they show no sign of fear, often per-
mitting me to pass within arm's length of them.
They are among the most admired and lovable
members of the wilderness chorus.

But even in this paradise of song all sounds
do not express harmony. In truth there is one
discordant operator in a coat of shiny black, a
color in which, as you have noted, are clad
many of the mischief-makers of the bird world.
Soon after my arrival there were heard in the
alders bordering the outlet to First Pond, reedy
call notes and a poor imitation of the ringing

246 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

^^hard-a-lee^^ of the Red-wing. Following up
these sounds I traced them to a nesting colony
of Rusty Blackbirds, a species whose northward
passage I had noted in late April.

The nests of twigs and coarse grass, rather
poorly constructed, were placed in fir and cedar
trees along the banks of the stream, some near
the ground, others twenty feet or more above it.
The fledglings were nearly grown, and rarely
have I experienced a more strenuous or per-
sistent attack of parent bird whose domestic
affairs I have looked into. A few days later when
the young were making their first attempts at
flying I came upon them again on the up-river
trail, and so violent was the attack of the old
birds that for a time I thought I should have
to seek some weapon of defence. Right at my
face they darted, uttering very harsh and disa-
greeable sounds. Following me for a long dis-
tance, they finally settled in the treetops where
they could still watch my movements.

Afterward whenever I set out in that direc-
tion, almost before leaving the clearing, the
alarm notes of these black disturbers of the
peace were heard, and soon a small band came
and followed me for a quarter of a mile along the
trail, uttering such a jargon as to completely
drown all other bird notes. Then, perched on the
dead trees, for half an hour they kept up their
excited chatter.

One day, quite out of patience with their
noisy demonstrations, I sat down and deliber-
ately waited to see what they would do about it.
On near-by stubs, all the while displaying their

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 247

ill temper, they sat so long that my patience
was exhausted. Occasionally one would snap
at a passing insect, and once a male made a
clumsy effort at a dragon fly but was unsuccess-
ful. At the end of an hour I left them, but their
noise did not cease until after I entered the clear-
ing on the return to my cabin.

There is little about these birds at any time
that is attractive, either in the coal-black dress
of the male, their yellow eyes, or hateful alarm
notes. The fine slate-color of the female, how-
ever, is rather handsome and did she display
more amiability she would not be wholly objec-
tionable as a neighbor. The name arises from
the dingy tone their plumage assumes after the
breeding season is over.

Toward the end of June the Rusty Blackbirds
developed a novel and interesting habit, that of
walking about on the pads of the yellow lilies
which cover much of the surface of First Pond.
Dry shod they demurely move about on this
carpet of glossy green, now and again spreading
their wings for a long jump from pad to pad,
busily feeding upon the multitude of gnats and
flies which infest the blossoms. At a distance
they have all the appearance of walking on the
water. Judging from the rapidity of their feed-
ing here, they have little need to look elsewhere
for their daily rations. This no doubt accounts
for the recent gathering of the nearly grown
young in the alder thickets which border the
pond to the southeast, a locality very conven-
ient to this bountiful food supply.

248 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Part II

** I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine ey«
seeth thee." — Old Testament.

If with diligence and patience you have long
searched for something upon the finding of
which your heart has been firmly set, or, if
striving earnestly to accomplish a certain result
you have at times almost succeeded, only to
taste the bitterness of defeat again and again,
and at last most unexpectedly and without
effort upon your part have suddenly reached
the goal of your desires, then will you realize
something of the deep sense of victory which
came to me at an early hour on a recent morning.

An earnest wish to hear the wonderful nest-
ing song of the Winter Wren has possessed me
for many years. In fact this desire had its in-
ception one evening some twenty years ago
when a friend, a trained naturalist and ardent
bird lover, in words aglow with the delight of
the recent experience, described his impressions
of the lay of this woodland sprite. He related
how, while fishing a remote stream in the north
woods, there came from the thicket to his atten-
tive ear notes so entrancing, so much in keeping
with the wildness of the spot that, dropping
his rod, he followed its elusive source in and out
through the dense growth, losing all sense of
direction but gaining a notable victory in iden-
tifying the singer. He declared this song unex-
celled in variety of notes among our Northern
birds.

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 249

On the evening of my arrival here, among the
many songs that greeted me was one that in-
stantly attracted my attention as being un-
familiar, remarkable for the variety of its notes.
It was so unlike all the utterances of the nu-
merous Warblers about the clearing that an in-
tense desire seized me to immediately identify
this woodland wonder. Such was the beginning
of a search that lasted many days.

In the attempt to identify this bird, daily
trips were made, sometimes covering several
miles, and never did I return without having
heard the song, but the singer eluded my sight.
Yet they were numerous, and at times one sang
just back of my cabin; but when I entered the
thicket he at once withdrew, slowly retreating
as I advanced until after an hour's tramp in the
tangled maze, I gave up the quest and sat down
with the hope that he would return within
range of my vision. He returned, but by another
route, and again I was baffled.

One day while fishing the river, the elusive
melody came from the far shore and I thought
that this time he could not possibly escape me,
for the mountain rose almost sheer from the
river bank. Quickly wading the stream I ap-
proached the spot whence the sound had issued,
and after a moment's silence, from far up the
steep cliff floated down the tantalizing song.
Along the trail, by the pond site, up river and
down, in short, wherever there is a tangle of
cedar, mountain ash, and swamp maple, I
heard him, but so successfully did he escape my
eager search that not even a glimpse of him did

250 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

I get; and at times I almost came to believe
him a sprite, a voice without material form.

Then most unexpectedly, and without effort,
I came upon him. Soon after sunrise one morn-
ing, while paying my daily visit to a mineral
spring that bubbles out of the river bank just
below the dam, I heard the song and my heart
fairly leaped at the prospect of seeing the singer,
for it seemed impossible for him to escape me
here. As I breathlessly waited a moment, there
came into view, hopping along a projecting
limb with a peculiar bobbing motion, a midget
in brown, with tail so erect that there was no
mistaking him.

He was the Winter Wren, the dainty minstrel
I had so long sought. For a moment he sang for
me in plain sight, then flew across the stream.
But my search was over and the reward was
equal to the protracted effort I had put forth,
absolute knowledge gained where there had been
so much uncertainty, and so I added a new and
highly prized acquaintance to my Hst of bird
friends.

But how shall I describe his marvelous song,
it is so different from all others! There is a
quality about it, a certain spirit of the wild, that
suggests the song of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet,
but, after all, the resemblance is slight. The
song of the Winter Wren is like a cascade of pure
liquid notes gurgling and tumbling forth as
though the tiny mite, in utter abandon, were
intoxicated with the ecstasy of his own melody.
In the variety of the notes the song is to me incom-
parable. And from such a midget ! One old guide

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 251

who knows him well calls him the "crazy bird."
North of the clearing, and traversed by the
trail to First Pond, is a tract a score or more
acres in extent, where several years ago fire
killed the timber. A thick second growth of
birch, wild cherry, alder, etc., has sprung up,
above which rise stark and bare many stubs,
relics of the old forest. Here the Woodpeckers
find favorable feeding and nesting ground, and
also many followers of this family of wood cut-
ters who take advantage of the generosity of
such skilled workmen. Not only do the Hairy,
Downy and Flicker nest here, but Chickadees,
Nuthatches and Bluebirds have taken posses-
sion of the well-cut holes, evidently finding
them quite suited to their needs.

Very soon after arriving here my attention
was attracted by a faint chorus of squeaks
coming from the direction of a dead birch on the
edge of the clearing. A brief search revealed a
clean-cut hole, some forty feet from the ground,
from w^hich issued the sounds. Soon with a
shrill "perk, perk,'' the father of the family, a
Hairy Woodpecker, came bounding up with
beak well laden with choice grubs, paused for an
instant just beneath the hole to look at me, then
with a note of reassurance to his waiting brood,
disappeared into the hole. At his. entrance the
faint cries instantly developed into hungry calls.
Soon out he came and, with a farewxU "perk,''
disappeared into the forest. Almost immediately
came the female, also with a goodly bunch of
grubs, and again the cries increased to a din
while she fed the eager nestlings.

252 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Rarely have I seen among birds greater evi-
dence of domestic happiness. Often while one
is feeding the fledglings, the other will arrive
and await on a neighboring limb his turn in
this oft-repeated process. Then are heard low
chuckles, soft and affectionate, language which
I have never before discovered in the Wood-
pecker vocabulary. For some time they seem to
talk over their household affairs in tones of
great amiability, perhaps discussing the remark-
able growth of their interesting youngsters, the
naming of the different members, when their
education shall begin, and various other im-
portant affairs. Then away they go to take up
the food problem again.

After observing their goings and comings for
several days I have concluded that the amount
of food required by a family of young Hairies
is nothing short of marvelous. On an average,
one of the parents returns every five minutes,
and I see them plying back and forth during all
the hours of daylight. The loud " rat-a-tat-tat'^
of one or both is nearly always audible in the
clearing, and the fledglings must be growing
rapidly.

In a few days black and white heads appeared
in the doorway and the approach of a parent
was the signal for an eager outstretching of
necks. Their voices grew in volume with their
bodies and the faint squeaks became a jargon
of hungry shrieks.

Anxiously I awaited the day when the young
would leave their sheltering roof trees for their
first instructions in flying, tree clinging, wood

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 253

cutting, and the many important matters that
go to make up Woodpecker education.

But alas for my expectations ! Their departure
was by night, when quietly the whole brood
slipped into the forest, and not even a glimpse of
the youngsters have I had, although the old
birds are still seen about the clearing.

The father of this family seems to be some-
thing of a humorist In the early morning he
often mounts to the roof of a cabin and beats a
lively tattoo on the dry splits which project a
foot or more above the ridge. The reverbera-
tions of the resonant wood echo about the clear-
ing, to the great annoyance of the sleepy folk.
This can hardly be a search for grubs, since
the splits are dry as bone and without bark.
He seems to greatly enjoy the joke, for between
the rolls he halts for a moment, chuckles to
himself, then repeats the tattoo.

One day while sitting in the shade of a cabin
veranda he came to one of the cedar posts within
six feet of me and although his bill seemed stuffed
full of grubs and insects he carefully inspected
the loose bark for trace of another. The wonder
was how he could drill for more when already
his bill was so well filled; but, not finding one,
he fiew away and my curiosity was then unsatis-
fied. A few days later he lit on a dead spruce
just above my head, deposited his load of bugs
in a deep crevice of the bark, quickly drilled out
a borer gathered up his cached food and hur-
ried home with his fine load. Never have I
watched a busier pair of birds, and were I to
select a new emblem to represent industry, I

254 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

would choose the Hairy Woodpecker when car-
ing for the brood rather than the honey bee.

In my excursions about the wood I have been
surprised at the number of Woodpecker families
discovered, their holes being usually located by
the hungry cries of the young. Homes of
Flickers, Downies, Hairies, American Three-
toed Woodpeckers and Sapsuckers have been
found, all with the entrance facing the east.
May not this location of the front door be due
to a desire to catch the first ray of light as morn-
ing breaks in the forest 1

Among the dead trunks surrounding an iso-
lated pond, I heard the loud blows and startling
cries of the "Cock of the Woods"; but as the
day was far advanced and the trail home a long
one it was not deemed wise to hunt his nest.
The sight of this bird is always for me an event
in any bird-hunting day. Although once com-
mon, it is now to be considered as rare, except
in the deepest forest.

Many other birds besides the Woodpeckers
find conditions in the old stub lot greatly to their
liking, the Flycatchers in particular being much
in evidence. The shrill interrogatory of the
Crested is often heard. For an hour after day-
break each morning his persistent cry is very
prominent in the bird chorus. This habit has
occasioned dark threats to be made against this
unseemly disturber, as he is regarded by the
sleepy folk, threats even involving his destruc-
tion unless he reforms forthwith. From his
lookout on the top of some prominent stub the
Olive-sided Flycatcher calmly surveys the scene

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 255

and between his frequent flycatching forays
pipes his mellow ^'pit-pit, pu-pit, pu-pii/^ with
something of the tone quality heard in the more
attractive utterance of his cousin, the Wood
Pewee.

Quite in contrast to the air of self-possession
which characterizes the Olive-sided is the ner-
vous, excitable manner of the Sebec, a bird that
is very numerous here. There is little about
these least of the Flycatchers that attracts one,
either in note or habit. Of late along the river
bank have been heard the calls of the Alder Fly-
catcher. On a low perch he utters a cry which
sounds much like "eaze-zve-up, eaze-zve-up,^^
rather wheezy in character and less emphatic
than Sebec's call. Like all the family, he is a
well-dressed bird, easily known by the pure
throat and center of the breast, and two promi-
dent wing bars.

I have been much surprised at the number of
Humming Birds which are summering amid the
desolation of the stub lot. Rarely do I traverse
the trail to First Pond without seeing several
perched on dead limb or broken bole of fir or
pine. Like tiny sentinels they detect the first
approach of danger to their thimble-like homes,
so securely hidden in the green moss below this
favorite perch that I have not been able to find
one, although the search has been both frequent
and protracted. As they turn about to keep me
well in view, their green backs gleam in the sun-
light with the sheen of silk, and their throats
flash like rubies. At times several will be seen
darting about hither and thither like bees, with

256 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

a very rapid twitter much like that of the Chim-
ney Swift, but fainter. This tiny creature
always excites my intense admiration. Think
for a moment of the great distance he covers
twice a year between this forest home and his
winter abode in the tropics. The explanation is
beyond man's knowledge. Little or nothing is
known about his travels, except that he is seen
in his winter home, then appears amid the June
flowers of the north, even in Canada. Of this
large exclusively American family the Ruby-
throat is the only species that comes to us in east-
em North America.

Once while watching an Olive-sided Fly-
catcher perched on a stub, I saw a Humming
Bird dart at him full tilt, striking him in the
back of the head. Like a flash the Flycatcher
turned and, snapping at the midget, caught him
by a wing and held him for an instant, when he
pulled away with a rattling twitter and sought
a perch near me. There he sat for a time,
smoothing out his rumpled feathers, occasionally
looking across at the Flycatcher with what
seemed to be sort of a got-more-than-I-bar-
gained-for air. I am somewhat puzzled as to
their food supply here, for flowers are not plenti-
ful. I believe they, too, have taken up fly-
catching.

Although today is the last of June, the Cherry
Birds are still in flocks, and they spend much
time among the old stubs. They are graceful
flycatchers, not so rapid in movement as are
many birds, but with a precision and ease that
is quite pleasing to behold. They never seem to

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 2fa

lose a certain air of refinement and elegance,
and one feels that the delicate colors of their
dainty dress and their faint lisping notes are
quite in harmony with their characters. They
are very tame, frequently keeping me com-
pany along the trail, and so gentle are they
I can scarcely imagine their uttering a harsh or
discordant note. Sometimes it occurs to one
that as the season is slipping by so rapidly they
should be warned against the dangers of further
delay in rearing the broods.

A bird that vexed me not a little during the
early part of my stay was the Pine Siskin, or
Pine Finch. They frequented the thick grass
plot between the cabins, feeding on the blossoms
of the dandelion. At my approach they would
rise with notes very much like those of the Gold-
finch; in fact, because of the great similarity in
notes, size and flight, I was nearly convinced
that they were female Goldfinches, accounting
for the slight difference in plumage as resulting
from the process of moulting, although it was
much earlier than the season when birds usually
change their clothes. On- close observation
however, notes were heard discordant and re-
pulsive as those of a Catbird, so unlike the ut-
terances of the little cavalier in black and gold
that the matter was at once decided, and their
real identity discovered. They are nesting in
the fir thicket that borders the clearing on the
south, the nests being made of twigs and root-
lets, lined with plant down.

Ruffed Grouse. Not far from the clearing the
up-river trail crosses a slight eminence where

258 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

the soil is sandy and dry. Here a mother
Grouse and her family take their daily dust
bath, and I have often tried to catch them at
this interesting and necessary process. Several
times I have met them about the trails and their
movements are always amusing. The young are
now about the size of two-weeks-old chickens,
and, when alarmed, some fly with a directness
and precision which suggests the wonderful
powers of flight they will a little later attain;
others hide in the leaves and moss, the mother
meanwhile gliding about with a peculiar noise
much like the whining of a puppy. But if I
conceal myself they quickly assemble again and
the search for food goes on. This is the Canadian
Ruffed Grouse, a bird which differs from the
Ruffed Grouse found further south, having the
bars on the under parts more distinct and a
decided grayish tone instead of rufous above.
So far as I have been able to observe, the only
difference between this sub-variety and his well
known brother, the Ruffed Grouse of New Eng-
land and the Middle States, is the slight varia-
tion in color. In mating and nesting habits,
pose, form and flight, they are exactly alike.
As happens in the case of nearly all dwellers of
deep woods away from the daily haunts of man,
the northern variety is very tame, more like
barnyard fowl than game birds of the woods.
This year at the foot of Mt. Katahdin, near the
end of August, we came upon a flock, the young
well grown and so tame that we could have hit
them with our climbing sticks. They did not
fly, but after walking about and eyeing us

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE ' 259

sharply for a time to satisfy their curiosity,
went on with their feeding, gradually working
away. What a contrast to the habits of the
Grouse in the second-growth woods about my
home! There they are so wild that often one
does not see them at all, their presence being
known only by a booming of wings as they go
hurtling through the trees to some distant place of
safety. We have no better example of the change
that takes place in birds that have been pursued
for generations by the man with dog and gun.

So beset with constant danger are these
sturdy denizens that the wonder is they have not
been completely exterminated. The hunter is
but one of their many menaces. As they are in
the main ground dwellers, they are fair game for
fox, mink, weasel, black cat and other prowlers
of the dark that are as fond of the delicate
flavor of Grouse breast as are the gun-bearing
epicures. Nor are Owls and Hawks wholly de-
void of a taste for this delectable creature.
And this is not all. Probably the greatest danger
Grouse face is from an entirely different source.
During the long winter, when the snows are
deep and soft, they often seek shelter from
the terrible cold by plunging deep into the
feathery mass, which, closing over them, pro-
tects them from the biting blast. It often hap-
pens that while thus imprisoned, a sudden
change of temperature is followed by rain which
softens the snow. Freezing weather then sets
in, forming a hard crust which renders escape
for the poor bird impossible. From this cause
alone, many perish every year.

260 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

The Grouse are the drummers of the bird
orchestra. To my ears one of the most fascinat-
ing of spring sounds is the muffled roll of the
Cock, to be compared in interest with the frog
chorus and the song of the first Robin. Begin-
ning slowly and deliberately, it increases in
rapidity until it is almost a continuous sound, a
mellow, reverberating reveille, heard at all hours
of the day and night during the months of
spring. A pleasant boyhood memory is of the
Ruffed Grouses' roll during the midnight hours,
booming across the river from the dark forest
that then clothed Sailor's Island. To my youth-
ful imagination it called up many fanciful pic-
tures of wood nymphs and fairies, always, how-
ever, of a pleasant nature.

Formerly there were many theories about the
manner in which these drum beats are produced.
The most common explanation was that the
cock bird stood on a hollow log which he beat
with his wings with varying rapidity. It is now
definitely known that standing on any object
that will render him most conspicuous, stump,
log, rock or mound of earth, he beats the air
with great vigor. The purpose of this is to at-
tract the female bird, as the Woodpecker drums
up his mate by beating a lively tattoo on some
resonant limb, and the songster by his vocal
utterances. The Grouse, possessing no vocal
powers, resorts to this unique but no less effec-
tive method.

Spruce Grouse. The Canadian Spruce
Grouse, or Spruce Partridge as it is sometimes
called, is a resident of the deep black forests,

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 2fM

and is becoming scarce even in remote regions.
It is somewhat smaller than the Ruffed Course,
with plumage much darker. The male has a
bright red line over the eye. On the up-river
trail one day I came upon a flock of these birds
so tame as to appear very stupid. Not until I
switched them with the stick in my hand did
they show any desire to move away, and then
they hopped into the low branches of the trees
bordering the trail, still stupidly eyeing me.

Indian Joe tells me that the Spruce Partridge
drums only when on the wing while descending
from some high perch to the ground. This I am
not able to verify from personal observation,
but Mr. Knight, in "Birds of Maine," speaks
of this habit.

Part III

'Just a day on Nature's heart.

Van Dyke.

To the northwest of the clearing some three
miles as the Ducks fly, farther by the well de-
fined woodland trail which leads across the
shoulder of Big Indian, is a clear blue lake in
whose unruffled surface are mirrored the mas-
sive forms of Big Elephant and Baker, which
like stem dark sentinels guard this wilderness
gem in its setting of unbroken forest. Its shape
has given it the name of Horseshoe Lake, and
the few who have penetrated to its peaceful soli-
tude, know it as the abiding place of many
richly colored trout of goodly size that rise
eagerly at all hours of the day, in sunshine and

262 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

storm, to the deftly cast fly. So to the fisher-
man's mind, at least, its naming for the emblem
of good luck is both wise and apt.

Partly to fill a creel with trout, partly to ex-
tend my acquaintance among the wild folk of
the region, I set out early one morning with rod,
field glass and camera, bound for this "paradise
of the woods. " The trail starts from the far side
of First Pond, and, as I embark to paddle
across, from all sides the White-throats greet
me with their morning melody, a message of
peace and good cheer. As I enter the dense
forest a red squirrel noisily salutes me, halts
for an instant in his lively scramble up a spruce
trunk, eyeing me furtively; then, scurrying to a
limb, settles down comfortably to await devel-
opments. His summer coat is several shades
darker than his winter garb, but he is the same
restless, rollicking alarmist, no matter what the
season.

From the narrow belt of black growth which
borders the pond, the trail gradually ascends
and the character of the forest changes com-
pletely. Fir, spruce and cedar give way to
beech, maple, white and yellow birch, with a
sprinkling of ash and poplar here and there.
This is the primeval forest and never has the
white man's axe awakened its echoes except as
trapper or surveyor has blazed his trail or built
his campfire. The ground is thickly clad with a
low growth of moose- wood and hobble-bush,
and many flowering plants deck the borders of
the path. Overhead the lofty roof of green is so
dense from the intermingling of the thickly-

AM i:i<IC AN l<l-.|)>l AK

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 263

foliagcd branches that the sun rays scarcely
penetrate. The result is a subdued atmosphere,
a half light as it were, in which the large boles
stand grim and gray like the towering columns
of some ancient temple. The general effect is
that of a vast park in which one's range of vision
is unobstructed for long distances.

From the start my presence is signaled by
bird notes. In the lower reaches of the trail
Veery and Olive-backed Thrush announce my
coming by call notes somewhat inquisitive if not
altogether interrogative, and I catch occasional
glimpses of their sober-clad forms as they silent-
ly change positions, the better to inspect the in-
truder. Then a Chickadee cheerily declares his
identity, and if I am not mistaken, there is a
note of wx4come in his strain. A Redstart
quickly voices the alarm, a Magnolia Warbler
pipes his musical lay, and there come to my ear
the droning notes of the Black-throated Green,
more melodious than the utterances of many of
his numerous relatives. The news of my coming
is proclaimed from treetop to treetop by these
feathered sentinels as I advance, and there
comes to mind the old signal towers along the
rocky headlands of the Spanish Coast from
which the Moors by beacon fires flashed im-
portant news for hundreds of miles.

Soon the Teacher Birds take up the alarm and
on all sides I am announced in energetic tones,
the shrill notes ringing through the forest aisles
in crescendo strains, emphatically declaring me
the particular exponent of education whose
coming they have so long heralded.

264 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

In the trail are countless tiny toads so varied
in coloring as to attract my attention. Where
the earth is dark and mucky their backs are
black; but where it is leaf strewn they are rusty
brown, conforming almost perfectly to the col-
oring of their surroundings, a very interesting
illustration of Nature's scheme of protecting
even her humblest creatures.

A familiar chorus of squeaks breaks upon the
ear and, halting to locate the source, I catch
sight of a Hairy Woodpecker as he goes gallop-
ing by with his bill full of grubs, hurrying to a
dead birch. His approach is signaled by a loud
'^perk, perk. " The response is a jargon of hungry
cries from his well-hidden brood, and as he
lights just beneath the hole several black and
white heads with open beaks appear, eagerly
reaching for their breakfasts. He tarries only
-long enough to feed the youngsters, then with a
farewell cry goes winging away for more food.
These Woodpeckers seem most devoted and
industrious parents.

In the soft trail deep tracks are seen, sharp-
pointed and clean-cut, easily recognized as those
of a deer, a buck, evidently made since the rain
of early morning, and headed in the direction
I am traveling. Their freshness indicates that
he may be close by, and, advancing with great
caution, in a few minutes I am brought to a
sudden halt by the crashing of underbrush just
ahead and to the right of the trail, as a large
buck in his handsome coat of summer red goes
bounding away in uncertain flight. But he has
not located the source of danger, and as I slip

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 265

behind the bole of a beech he stops, scans the
trail ahead for some distance, then evidently
thinking his alarm unwarranted, turns about
and works slowly back quietly browsing on the
succulent stems of ash and moosewood.

As he is not more than fifty yards distant I
can see him distinctly, his wariness evident in
ever}^ movement. Quickly cropping a mouthful
of leaves, he raises his head and cautiously scans
the forest, his ears constantly turning to catch
the slightest sound. It is evident that a life
amid constant peril has taught him unceasing
vigilance. He is a large specimen with half-
grown antlers in full velvet, rising straight above
the shapely head like blunt sticks, giving little
promise of the fine, wide-spreading, well polished
weapons with which he will go forth to battle
in the early fall. After watching him intently for
some time, a careless movement on my part
catches his quick eye, up goes the white flag and
away he bounds, clearing a spruce top and sev-
eral fallen trees with an ease that would be
quite the envy of a professional hurdler. That
he saw rather than scented me is evident from
his failure to blow.

As the trail crosses the height of land, large
tracks, much like those of a cow, are seen, but
larger and more pointed, and it is evident that
a moose has recently passed this way.

In a sharp angle of the pathway an Ovenbird
springs up almost at my feet and flutters silently
away after the manner of a nesting bird. A
brief search reveals a nest so cleverly con-
structed that, but for the presence of the owner,

266 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

one would be unlikely to find it. Under the
drooping branches of a tiny spruce is a globular
mound of dead leaves, with an opening in the
side to a cup-like receptacle nicely built of bits
of bark and rootlets, in which are five white
eggs thickly speckled with brown. The loose
construction of the exterior and the character
of the material serve well in its concealment,
for to the casual observer it has all the ap-
pearance of a bunch of leaves tossed together
by the wind. Rarely have I seen a more attrac-
tive home. Both location and architecture ap-
peal to me as being particularly fitting for a
ground dweller of the dense forest; and I with-
draw with a resolve to secure this leaf-built
bower as a souvenir of the woods, after it has
served its purpose.

From this point the trail descends and spruce
and cedar appear again. From the thick tops
comes the fine, shrill ''wee-see^ wee-see^ wee-see'^'*
of the Blackburnian Warbler, the brilliant
beauty of his plumage emphasized against the
background of sombre green. With the feeling
that I can well afford to delay my fishing for a
visit with this beautiful little creature, I halt
for some time to admire his exquisite coloring
and his rather musical song. To add to my keen
delight there comes from a thicket near at hand
the inimitable song of the Winter Wren. Quite
enraptured with the rare beauty of one and the
splendid vocal performance of the other, I
stand for some time, finally taking up the trail
again with a deep sense of gratitude for Nature's
lavish bounties.

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 267

Where a small rock-strewn brook crosses the
trail a stop is made for a drink of the pure, cold
water and ray eye is attracted by a peculiar
track in the wet earth for all the world like that
of a barefoot boy of ten. For a moment, for-
getful of my surroundings, I picture a lad with
dinner pail and well-thumbed books trudging
along to school, and in imagination I hear the
busy murmur of the classroom; then suddenly
the realization comes to me that this is the wil-
derness, and the tracks before me are not those
of a boy at all, but of a good-sized bear, very
fresh and headed in the direction I am going.
With senses fully alert the advance is cau-
tiously made in the hope of catching a sight
of him while searching for his morning mxeal,
unless, perchance, he has already scented me,
and silently vanished in the undergrowth.

The bear is the shyest of all the wild folk, and
silent as a shadow must be he who approaches
one without giving warning of his presence.
Some distance along the trail I find signs of his
work, a rotten log torn in pieces for the grubs
hidden in the sodden mass; and a little farther,
an old stump shattered and broken in his search
for ants, the w^ork displaying unmistakable
evidence of his great strength. Close by, the
tracks suddenly leave the trail and lead into a
dense thicket, it being apparent from the in-
creased distance between them that he was in a
hurry, probably alarmed at my approach.

Well knowing the futility of following him,
the journey is continued and soon through the
trees I catch a glimpse of the lake, its blue sur-

268 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

face, ruffled by the gentle west wind, sparkling
in the brilliant sunshine. On the farther shore
a doe is leisurely wading along, now plucking
the tender water grasses, now raising her slender
neck for a bit of the cedar boughs to spice her
meal. By the little cabin of rough logs built
many years ago by a hunter, I find another
visitor trying to gain entrance and judging
from the size of the hole he had already gnawed,
he would soon have succeeded but for the inter-
ruption. Unwilling to entertain a hedgehog at
lunch, I seek a stout stick and drive him some
distance away, leaving him only after admin-
istering a good drubbing on his quill-protected
back.

As I appear at the boat landing the deer
gazes at me for an instant and vanishes; the
cedar branches closing behind give no sign of
her presence. Quickly paddling to the farther
shore I am soon engaged in my favorite sport,
and the response of the red-finned, red-spotted
inhabitants of the lake is both prompt and
earnest. A Blue Jay passes inshore, his strange
silence indicating the domestic nature of his
errand. A ''Lone Fisherman" rattles by, and
perching on a dead limb well out over the water
declares his purpose of catching a trout, although
he has no gaudy flies to tempt them. Soon he
plunges, emerges with a wriggling fish and dis-
appears around the point where, no doubt, he
has a family to provide for.

Loon. Presently a dark cloud overspreads
the sky, the wind freshens, and from the middle
of the lake comes the lonesome cry of a Loon.

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 269

Gradually he works toward me into shallow
water and soon Is diving for fish, for he, too, Is
a lover of these delicately-flavored trout. Be-
tween his divings, raising himself well out of
water, he announces his success in weird laugh-
ter with a great flourish of his long wings. Then
he, too, disappears around the bend, for his nest
is in the Pocket, the little bag-shaped bay at the
southwest end of the lake. So close to the water
that the nesting bird can slip into it without the
necessity of walking at all. Is a loose pile of
sticks and rushes In which are deposited the
two large lead-colored eggs.

This bird is ver}^ well adapted to a life on the
water, but is ill suited for land dwelling, as its
legs are so far back (at the end of the body in
fact), that when trying to walk it overbalances
in a very awkward manner. But on the water
it is a veritable master; for not only can it stay
under for what seems an incredible length of
time for an air-breathing creature, but so great
are Its natatorial powers that the distance
traversed during one of its submarine excur-
sions is little short of marvelous. No less strik-
ing is the celerity which it displays in getting
under. It Is a well-knowTi fact among hunters
that in the old days of muzzle-loading guns the
chances of killing a Loon, unless he could be
taken unawares, were very small. So keen of
eye was he, and so quick of movement, that in
the instant between the flash of the cap and the
arrival of the bullet the bird was able to get
safely below the surface, and the bullet harm-
lessly hit the water where he had been sitting.

270 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

But with the coming of the high-power, breech-
loading guns, even the wonderful quickness of
this noble bird cannot save him from the ruth-
less hunter. And, in consequence, he is becom-
ing comparatively rare although formerly his
piercing voice raised the echoes on nearly every
woodland lake of the north country.

There is much about the Great Northern
Diver that smacks of the wilderness. His shy
nesting habits, his splendid powers of swimming
and flight, and, above all, his weird, unearthly
cry, make him the most interesting inhabitant
of woodland waters. His cry sometimes so
closely resembles the shrieking of a person in
sore distress as to easily deceive one. I well
remember when a boy one spring day I had
strayed along the bank of the Androscoggin
without the knowledge of my parents, when a
Loon paddling about in the river raised his
awful cry, and at once the folks came rushing
out to rescue me from drow^ning.

If when camped on some w^oodland lake there
comes to your ears this wild, lonesome, quaver-
ing cry its effect is hair-raising. Some years ago
we were occupying the little log cabin here on
Horseshoe Lake. In the middle of a September
night we were awakened by a fearful tempest
of lightning, rain and wind that laid low many
an old monarch of the forest. In the midst of
this warring of the elements, right off the camp
two Loons raised their weirdest, most aw^ul
cries. Never in my many years of experience
in the woods have I heard sounds more alarm-
ing, more awesome and fear-inspiring, although

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 271

we well knew their source. The proverbial laugh-
ter of demons could scarcely have been more
fearsome. It is said these cries are not unlike
the howling of wolves.

One year while at Big L}^ord Pond, the head-
waters of Pleasant River, we found a Loon's
nest by the shore. At dusk we made an effort to
stalk the sitting bird in our canoe, but while yet
fifty feet away she slid into the water, the gleam
of her white breast in the shallows being the
only indication we had of her presence, until
she arose a hundred yards from shore. Far into
the night the pair broke the stillness with their
cries of protest at being disturbed.

The Loon is a fish-eating bird that seizes its
prey under the water with its strong, sharply
pointed bill. Stories are told of fishermen catch-
ing Loons in water eighty or more feet deep, good
evidence of their power as swimmers. They
range in summer from northern New England
to the Arctic Circle, wintering usually about the
salt water, from southern New England to the
Gulf.

Midday brings me to camp, where a lunch of
broiled trout is greatly enjoyed, and in the hour
of leisure that follows, several of my feathered
friends call. A Robin comes hurtling out of the
thicket by the spring, watches me for a time,
then disappears, seemingly quite out of place
in this remote locality. The harsh cackles of
the Rusty Blackbird are heard as a squad ap-
pears, vigorously punishing a solitary Crow
which evidently ventured too near their nests.
This is the only com puller I have seen since com-

272 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

ing into the woods. It may be that their absence
is due to the fact that here is no corn to pull.

High over a distant hill a pair of Broad-
winged Hawks wheel in great circles above their
forest home. Across the lake in arrow-like
flight comes a Sheldrake, settling in the shallows
for a meal of small trout. At the rear of the
cabin a Preacher Bird voices his arguments, the
discourse often punctuated by marks of inter-
rogation, and exclamation as well. The slowly
westering sun gives its warning of declining day;
back to the lake I go and in reasonable time the
creel is filled with choice fish of satisfactory size.

On the return I again inspect the Oven Bird's
home, and this time she does not fly until my
hand almost closes the opening to her leafy
bower. A little farther along the trail such a
jargon of shrill Jay cries suddenly bursts from
the treetops just ahead of me as to instantly
bring me to a halt, wondering upon what mis-
chief these freebooters in blue are now bent.
The uncertainty is short lived, for above their
shrieks rises a hoarse cry, startling and raucous,
'' zvhoO'O-ah, whoo-o-ah-h,^^ so discordant and
altogether strange that for an instant I am quite
at a loss to account for it.

A little investigation with the field glass,
however, reveals its source, a large Barred Owl,
beset and sadly harassed by a band of Blue
Jays. Perched in the topmost limbs of a tall
birch, he strikes savagely with beak and claw
at his daring tormentors as they dart at him,
hurling at them his defiance in full voiced cry.
Thoroughly aroused and desperate he defends

THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 273

himself, and for a time seems quite able to hold
his owTi.

But after a few moments of strenuous resist-
ance he seems discouraged at their numbers and
takes wing, clumsily making his way among the
treetops, half blinded in the strong light. His
retreat is the signal for redoubled efforts on the
part of the Jays, and they fairly swarm about
him in his flight, soon forcing him to perch
again. Here the attack is continued, and again
he seeks safety in flight. As I proceed far dowTi
the trail I hear his fierce battlecry; but I sus-
pect that with the coming of darkness when his
full powers of vision return there will be quick
scattering among his noisy tormentors.

In the lowlands the Thrushes are voicing
their evening hymns and about First Pond the
White-throats are singing their farewells to the
day. The cabin is reached with a deep sense
of satisfaction in the events of the day.

During a month's stay in the forest sixty-
eight varieties of birds were fully identified.
Glimpses of several other Warblers were had,
but so fleeting that it was not possible to posi-
tively name them. No doubt there are eighty
or more varieties there, a wonderful chorus you
may be sure, heard by few besides the wild
folk themselves. Yet were the birds the only
attraction of the wilderness, it is sufficient to
make delightful a long visit to its sheltering
depths.

Chapter XVI
IN THE ORCHARD

"I once knew all the birds that came
And nested in our orchard trees,
For every flower I had a name —
My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees;
I knew where thrived in yonder glen
What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe —
Oh I was very learned then.
But that was very long ago."

— Eugene Field.

To many of our feathered friends there are
few places more attractive than an orchard, if
its location be somewhat secluded, and the tree-
tops thick enough to afford good shelter. Dur-
ing the spring migration the weary travelers
halt here for food and rest; as the nesting season
approaches many seek its friendly shade as a
suitable situation in which to rear their young;
in autumn, with the coming of the time for the
southward march again, it is a favorite rallying
place for the families of the neighborhood while
making ready for the journey.

Here, too, during the late summer and early
fall may be seen many strangers that nested
in the Far North, in distant Labrador, or on the
shores of Hudson Bay, leisurely working their
way back to winter homes in sunnier climes.
At this time there is little evidence of the haste
which marked their northward passage, for the

274

IN THE ORCHARD 275

labors of the season are over, and the }'Oung,
now full grown, are cheerful fellow-travelers,
even outnumbering the parent birds. These
wise little bodies foretell the coming of the bleak
winter with wonderful certaint}', for long before
the first visit of Jack Frost, even while the
sway of summer is yet undisputed, they leave
their nesting grounds to take up the first stages
of the southward journey.

But even when the last summer visitor has
departed and the chill blasts of winter are again
sweeping the desolate landscape, the orchard
still has its feathered folk; for several hardy
pilgrims of the snow here find favorable feeding
grounds, and many other winter wanderers make
occasional calls.

Our little valley in Maine is bordered to the
west by a long low hill, standing modestly back
from the road and river, facing eastward. Along
its southern slope and reaching well up over the
brow is such an orchard, w4th trees gnarled and
twisted by the storms of many winters, yet
vigorous and fruitful despite their advanced
age and many deformities.

The wide-spreading trees join their branches
in friendly clasp, forming in summer a roof of
green so dense that only here and there the sun-
light strikes through. As a result, the moist soil
beneath is scantily clothed with fine grass and
earthworms abound, much to the happiness of
many birds. The orchard is enclosed on all
sides by a high moss-grown stone wall, broken
and irregular, upon which have been piled for
many years the superfluous branches pruned

276 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

from the thick treetops, excellent cover for the
more timid folks.

A few rods back of the orchard is a dense
growth of pine and hemlock, birch and maple
which reaches down the western slope of the hill
into a narrow glen where a tiny brook tinkles
and gurgles over its rocky bed. In front of this
orchard rich pasture lands slope down to the
farmhouses of the valley. That to the south is
studded by a grove of sugar maples whose
sturdy lichen-covered boles yield every spring a
generous flow of their lifeblood in response to
the invitation of the farmer, bountifully sup-
plying him with one of Nature's choicest sweets.

These surroundings and the comparative
seclusion of the orchard make it the favorite
haunt of birds at all seasons of the year, and
rarely does a person enter its borders without
finding some one of them plying his trade in his
own peculiar way.

In the late autumn days, as twilight falls,
Grouse slip out of the neighboring thickets to
feast upon the tender buds all carefully sealed
for winter. They are not, I fear, very welcome
visitors, for the fact is they do much damage by
nipping ofi" the blossom buds which enclose the
promise of next year's crop.

So it frequently happens that the farmer is
seen in the dusk of a December day with gun
firmly clasped in toilwom hands making his
way stealthily about, or sitting quietly on some
moss-clad boulder, grimly bent upon the de-
struction of this feathered menace. Much as I
appreciate the justice of the fanner's cause, my

IN THE ORCHARD 277

sympathies are always enlisted on the side of
the culprit. For is it not quite necessary that
he be well fed at this season that he may be pre-
pared to withstand the rigors of the fast ap-
proaching winter? To hz sure he could feed upon
the buds of maple and birch in the nearby wood,
but these lack the delicate flavor of apple buds,
and with birds, as men, variety adds spice to
existence. And it may be that the element of
adventure is not wholly unattractive to these
hardy citizens.

Every day Downy Woodpeckers beat lively
tattoos here, and the tree trunks bear many
autographs of these very useful birds, worked
in the rough bark with great regularity. Not
only do they find various insects concealed in
the outer covering, but drilling this they seek
the delicate inner layer, the soft and juicy
cambium, which is a favorite food. Orchard
owners are inclined to the belief that the numer-
ous punctures injure the trees; but such is not
the case unless the rows of holes, girdling the
tree, shut off the flow of sap, a condition which
rarely occurs. The Downies live close by, and
the journey, being short, is often made.

In the warm spring days the orchard is the
scene of much love making. In early April the
male Downy, he of the red nape, ''turns his
thoughts to love," and not having the gift of
song with which to woo a mate attempts to
drum her up. For this purpose he seeks a dead,
dry limb that will resound tunefully to the ap-
plication of his drumstick, and his rolling tattoo
U often heard*

278 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

The female, with becoming modesty, flits
about the edge of the wood, plainly hearing the
love call, yet shyly remaining in the background
for a time, lest it appear that her affections are
too easily won. P<irhaps, too, she remembers
how in previous years, at the approach of cold
weather, her faithless mate deserted her, making
for himself a new retreat where he passed the
winter in selfish solitude.

But finally the increasing ardor of the lover
overcomes her reluctance, she coyly approaches,
a formal compact is made, and a pair of happy
hearts seeks a suitable tree where a snug home
for the brood is excavated.

The Downy's larger cousin, the Hairy, he of
the bold call and louder taps, occasionally reg-
isters here; but his autographs take the form of
good-sized holes cut in decaying branches or
trunk to reach the concealed wood borer. His
love making, similar in kind, takes place in the
seclusion of the woods, for he is rather a shy
bird, not so often seen in the open.

One spring day as I entered the orchard I
caught a flash of red and gold from the farther
side, and there came to my ears gentle love
notes, soft as the cooing of a dove. On a low
limb I saw two male Flickers paying court to
the lady of their choice. How they did bow and
courtesy, spreading their beautiful tails like
fans, the yellow quills shining like ribs of gold,
as they bubbled and gurgled with the ecstasy of
their wooing!

Meantime the courted lady, apparently un-
moved, sat bolt upright between the two, with

IN THE ORCHARD 279

something of a disdainful poise of her handsome
head, as it seemed to me, but giving no visible
sign of encouragement to the ardent advances
of either. For some time the little drama went
on, then she took wing in bounding flight, closely
followed by her persistent admirers.

It would be very interesting to know if she
finally accepted one of these suitors, and upon
what her choice was based. Was her coyness a
part of the etiquette of Flicker courtship ? Who
can tell the sequel to this idyl of the spring?
That one of the lovers was successful I feel very
sure, for a pair of Flickers nested in a dead
maple in the grove, in a hole some forty feet
from the ground. How aptly are they named
Highholes !

During all the colder months Chickadees are
daily visitors. They carefully inspect every
cranny and crevice of trunk and limb for the
eggs of various insects, fearlessly clinging to the
very tips of the wind-tossed branches, and mer-
rily calling to one another as they busily search.
In the warm days of April are heard their
"sweetheart" notes, inexpressibly tender, and
a variety of dainty calls which are always
sprightly messages of good cheer. But at all
seasons one does not listen long without hearing
their identity declared over and over again,
^^ chick-a-dee-dee^ chick-a-dee-dee-dee,^^ a cheery
and mirthful declaration. Few birds appear
happier under the trying conditions of our
rapid changes of climate and no visitor to the
orchard gives evidence of a lighter heart. There
is not a more useful bird to the farmer than this

2S0 BIRDS OF FIELD. FOREST AND PARK

sprite in black and gray, a fact which I fear he
does not fully appreciate. These midgets actu-
ally destroy even' year countless numbers of
harmful insects, making possible in a great
degree the success of the apple crop.

Last year the trees were loaded. Northern
Spy and Ben Davis, Baldwin and Bellflower
bent beneath the weight of luscious fruit which
clustered amid the dark foliage, with cheeks
deep-flushed by the autumn sun. A hard frost
in mid-October rendered worthless many barrels
of the juicy apples which were left upon the
trees, where they hung all winter, hard as rocks
in the freezing weather. But, thawed by the
spring sun and April rain they fell to earth, and
Robin and Red-wing, hungr}' from their long
flight, feasted sumptuously on the soft bro\Mi
pulp.

When I first saw large flocks of these birds
here in early April I thought they were picking
out the seeds, but close inspection convinced me
that they were eating the pulp, leaving the seeds
untouched. This fact greatly interested a red
squirrel who lives here, for their generosity saved
him much labor. All he had to do to secure his
rations was to follow a squad of these rollicking
rovers, picking up the seeds which they rejected.
He seemed to fully appreciate the opportunity,
for I often found him on duty, a sort of camp-
follower to the flock.

He has a sweet tooth also. One day I saw him
in a sugar maple clinging to the under side of a
limb, daintily sipping the sap which trickled
from a crack in the tender bark caused by last

IN THE ORCHARD E81

winter's hard freezing. So absorbed was he in
the enjoyment of this delicacy that he paid no
attention to me, although I stood for a long
time within a few feet of him.

How Robin and Red-wing frolic and flourish
here in the bright spring weather! All through
April they live in bands, and, to all appearances,
get on admirably together, for I see them in the
treetops whistling and singing, cackling and
caroling in great glee. Then down upon the
ground they drop, feeding side by side in perfect
amity, Red-wing's glossy coat with its brilliant
trimmings making a fine contrast to Robin's
duller-hued garments. But unless my eyes de-
ceive me, toward the end of the month his breast
takes on a deeper flush, probably his wedding
colors, for the mating season is near at hand.
After that happy event is over, he gives up his
careless, roaming life and settles do^^Ti to more
serious business, nest building and caring for the
mate and little ones.

There lives in the orchard a gray old wood-
chuck, a permanent resident for many years.
To be sure, he is not in evidence during the win-
ter, for he sleeps away the drear}^ months, co?ily
tucked in his warm nest in a deep hole under
the wall. But the awakening season stirs his
sluggish blood, too, and by the latter part of
March he ventures forth, still drowsy and quite
unkempt after his long nap, to renew his
acquaintance with the outside world.

One day I sighted him, alarmed at my ap-
proach, scurrying along in great haste, to a safe
station at the mouth of his den. Halting there

282 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

he warily watched me for a time, then with an
explosive whistle that startled every feathered
creature within hearing into sudden flight, he
sought his dark retreat, chattering and grumbling
his protest at being disturbed in his own domain.
He seems to be a sort of watchman whose duty
it is to keep ward over the inhabitants of the
orchard. At any rate, all recognize his signal,
for they beat a hasty retreat whenever his alarm
is heard.

A large band of Juncos tarries here during the
month of April on their journey north, convoying
straggling squads of Sparrows, Vesper, Song,
Tree and Savanna. They spend much time on
the ground, gleaning seeds from last year's
grasses and weeds. They pay little heed to my
approach until I am close upon them, when up
they spring, the whole flock as a single bird, with
a tense sound like the flapping of a sail, their
white-bordered tails flashing the alarm to any
stragglers that have not perceived the intruder.

Then in the low trees they sit for a time, very
smart in their suits of dark slate and white.
Their alarm soon passing, the whole band sets up
a chorus of trills and calls which may not be
classed as true melody, yet are very pleasant
sounds; and, coming from such contented little
bodies, they strangely appeal to one's sense of
the fitness of things. At least four diff"erent
utterances have I noted, one a song of much
merit, although simple in the variety of its notes.

At the alarm the Song Sparrows pump their
way to cover in the old brush rick along the
walls, where for a brief interval they hide; but

IN THE ORCHARD 283

their restlessness quickly sends them out again
and, as confidence is restored, from the topmost
stones they vigorously proclaim their faith that
all is well. Then back to their feeding they go,
as though nothing unusual had happened.

The Vespers are usually silent, except at
morning and evening, but the Savannas from
the low branches join in with their grasshopper-
like trills, so faint as to be audible but a short
distance away.

Occasionally in April Fox Sparrows are seen,
their bright brown coats very conspicuous
among the rather dull shades of the band. But
they appear shy and restless, evidently feeling
out of place in such open location, and soon take
wing in a steady thrush-like flight for the denser
cover of the woods.

In early May male Purple Finches come, and
all day deftly shell the apple seeds for the dainty
morsel within. At times they also pick off^ the
swelling buds, but this fact is, I hope, unknown
to the farmer; for did he know, he might feel
called upon to interfere with these brilliant mem-
bers of the spring choir.

So beautiful is the red of their coats that one
easily imagines they have been dipped in the
juice of wild strawberries. And what a striking
contrast to their modestly dressed mates who
arrive a little later! It is not an easy matter
to distinguish the females from the numerous
Sparrows about, but their short, rounded bills
and forked tails will lead to their identity.

During the spring days Hermit Thrushes
steal out of the woods for a stroll in the orchard,

284 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

but here they are shy and silent, not even greet-
ing me with a call note. The deep gloom of the
evergreens alone seems to inspire them to their
supreme effort! I see them feeding on the re-
mains of the apples left by the earlier foragers,
and last year's berries of the sumachs which
grow along the wall.

Phoebe comes early and for a few days is very
busy with flycatching, evidently being extremely
hungry after his long flight. For several days
his gentle notes are much in evidence, but with
the arrival of his mate the devoted pair seek a
favorable nesting place in a barn cellar, or
under one of the bridges spanning the Nezinscot.

Several Warblers make brief calls as they
pass along; Yellow Palm and Myrtle, Black and
White, and Blackpoll, Nashville and Yellow-
throat halt here to rest and feed. I have not
found the nests of any members of this cele-
brated family here, but as individuals of several
varieties appear at times all summer, I judge
they must be nesting in the near-by thickets.

Chipping Sparrows take possession in late
April and for several months are the most nu-
merous birds. The task of collecting hair for the
nest linings must be a very easy one in the neigh-
boring pasture lands. Now and then I see them
fly catching, although, like all the members of
the family, they are known as seed eaters.
Sebec comes soon after, and his metallic notes
are pretty constant sounds all summer. Blue-
birds find a satisfactory home in hollow branch
or trunk and the mellow warble of this constant
lover makes a pleasing sound during all the

IN THE ORCHARD 285

springtime. No sooner are the youngsters of the
first brood flying about in their speckled suits,
than the mother, leaving to the father the task
of solving the food problem for the family, goes
back to rear a second brood, and late in July the
two families unite in a happy band of rovers.

Of all the Robins that gather here in early
spring, usually but a single pair remains, build-
ing their rude nest in the fork of a tree, often not
more than five or six feet above the ground. A
prowling cat or weasel would have a fine feast
on a nestful of the tender fledglings, but in spite
of the exposed position of the nest the brood is
usually reared in safety, and by mid-June they
are flying freely about in their short-tailed suits
of spotted brown. Soon five more blue eggs are
laid and a few weeks later the second family
joins the first, the industrious parents appearing
very proud of their sturdy flock.

These highly prized friends of man show so
little sagacity in concealing their nests, the won-
der is that the young are not all destroyed. But
a kind Providence seems to protect them, for
among all the Robins' nests I find during a
season, probably a dozen or more, not often do
I discover a tragedy. Yet among the nests of the
other varieties which I observe, the destruction
from one cause or another is sometimes very
great.

By the first of May all the Redwings abandon
the orchard, taking themselves to the lowlands
where in the bushes about the brook mouth and
cove, they settle down for the summer. Last
year many nests built in the low bushes came

286 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

to grief from a quick rise of water in early June.
But these were at once deserted and others
built in safer locations so that a goodly number
of young were reared.

In early May the Sparrows also scatter for
nesting grounds in the neighboring fields and
pastures. Two or three pairs of Song Sparrows
and a pair of Vespers remain in the orchard,
finding secure home sites in the tall grass.
Orioles and Kingbirds come by mid-May, and a
pair of each usually remains for the summer.
The Kingbirds, in searching for nest-building
material, come to our lawn where we hang out
strings of many sizes and colors. For several
days we see them pulling and tugging at the
coveted twine, then flying away with it over the
hill to the orchard.

Later, when the nest is found, we marvel much
at the strings festooned about the branches, sev-
eral feet from the nest. Is this to suggest danger-
ous nets and snares to all creatures that happen
near.^ And is it the same instinct which prompts
his cousin, the Great Crested Flycatcher, to
hang outside his home the ominous snakeskin.'^
Last year I visited the nest several times, and
was much surprised at the lack of noisy dem-
onstration usually made by these birds when
one approaches their home. In truth, it almost
seemed that they knew I was a friend who
would do them no harm, for they sat demurely
by while I admired the fledglings.

By the first of August in the orchard appears
the vanguard of the northern army already
taking up the return march, and soon comes

IN THE ORCHARD 287

trooping back by easy stages the main body of
the early migrants, Humming Birds and Swal-
lows, Warblers and Flycatchers. The more deli-
cate members of the feathered army are slowly
followed by the hardier varieties, many of which
linger about through the golden days of autumn,
even until bleak November is again upon us.

During the warm, smoky days of Indian sum-
mer the migration seems to halt for a time, as
though the birds, too, are quite deceived into
believing that the balmy air really presages
the return of the season of joy and song. But
the cold storm, which is pretty sure to follow
these halcyon days, starts them southward again
in a hurry, and only the permanent residents
are left to cheer us. Soon the Woodchuck seeks
his winter quarters, the Red Squirrel hunts closer
cover in the shelter of the pines, and through
the bare limbs of the old trees sifts the driving
snow. The walls are buried in rapidly growing
drifts and the world of green becomes a world of
white.

As the years go by, each season brings to the
orchard its feathered visitors with their songs of
gladness, some tarrying for a long stay, some
hurrying on to more attractive scenes. If one
were but to observe the birds that call here dur-
ing the year, the list would be a long one and
many interesting stories could be told. Withal
it is a delightful spot, where both bird and man
find much to make the heart glad.

Chapter XVII
BIRD ODDITIES

"I repeat them as I heard them."

— Hiawatha^ Longfellow.

One of our neighbors in the country, a lady
who was a great lover of birds, early one autumn
caught a pair of Juncos in the woodhouse and
placed them in a cage just made vacant by the
death of a Canary. Their handsome coats, clean
white bills, well groomed appearance, sprightly
call notes and genial ways, made them very at-
tractive pets. For some time they seemed quite
as happy in their new home as when roaming
about the country with their mates. But after
a few weeks, one of them lost something of its
cheerfulness, began to droop and showed such
unmistakable signs of illness that the lady, fear-
ing it would die, released it.

The other seemed happy and contented until
the fall migration began, when from the perch
by the window it could see its fellows playing in
the lilac bushes in the yard. This sight, or the
sound of their merry calls, appeared to arouse a
desire for liberty again, for it, too, became rest-
less and discontented, fluttering and beating its
wings against the wires of the cage, seemingly
possessed of a deep longing for their companion-
ship. So clearly did it express its desire for free-

288

f.

Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies

J UN' CO

BIRD ODDITIES 289

dom that the tcndcr-hcartcd lady took the cage
to an open window in the chamber and released
it, little expecting to see her pet again.

The Junco at once joined a flock in the yard,
and to all appearances was very happy in the
society of its own kind. The cage, with the door
ajar, was left by the open window and when the
shades of evening began to fall, the signal for
bedtime in bird-land, the little fellow, leaving
the flock, flew to the open window, entered the
cage and went to sleep on its accustomed perch.
This was repeated every night until the season
was well advanced, when it finally joined a
company of Juncos on their way south.

The next spring when the northern migration
again brought a flock of these birds to her yard,
the lady placed the cage by the open window
with the faint hope that if her old friend chanced
that way it would at least make a brief call.
That very night a Junco came and slept in the
cage and continued to return every night as long
as flocks of Juncos were about; but with the ap-
proach of the mating season, when all the family
started for the northern nesting grounds, it
disappeared and did not return again.

The query naturally arises, was this the same
bird that occupied the cage the previous fall or
a stranger that chanced along .^ While it is difli-
cult to positively identify individual birds, yet
it seems there can be little doubt in this case; for
if it was not the same bird why did it leave the
flock to seek so unusual a resting place .f*

The whole question of the return of birds to
familiar localities is a highly interesting one, and

290 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

we are anxious to believe that the same friends
return to us every spring, for we love to hail
them as old acquaintances. It seems highly
probable that the majority of birds do return
to familiar localities; in fact, it has been defi-
nitely proven in several instances that an in-
dividual has returned to a familiar haunt year
after year, even occupying the same nest. I
have seen a Robin on arriving in the spring, go
at once to the old nest under our porch, and
after mating, begin housekeeping either in the
old nest, or a new one built close beside it. This
bird, a male, had every appearance of being
perfectly familiar with the surroundings. It
seems clear that frequently one of a pair, usually
the male, will lead his new mate to the old nest-
ing place where for several seasons, perhaps, the
brood has been reared in security.

In my boyhood, the way to school was along a
road bordered for some distance on one side by
an old stump fence which for many years had
successfully withstood the ravages of the ele-
ments. A hollow stump root, occupied year
after year, as the nesting place of a pair of Blue-
birds, attracted much attention from the pass-
ing children. I recently learned that the root
still shelters each year a Bluebird family, and
upon further inquiry, a man some seventy years
of age informed me that in his boyhood, too,
it was the home of these heralds of the spring.
For more than sixty years the old stump has
been the abiding place of Bluebirds and it would
be very interesting to know if the occupants today
are descendants of the original householders.

BIRD ODDITIES 291

Birds of a given variety are so much alike that
it is not easy to distinguish individuals, except
between male and female, yet by careful study
one may find traits which will lead to the posi-
tive identification of a particular bird. They
seem never to grow old, at least there is little
visible change in their appearance from year to
year. The plumage is glossy and well groomed
when they arrive in the springtime, as though
they were a year younger, rather than a year
older, and their sprightly manners and songs
of good cheer give no sign of advancing age.
No doubt many die during the long journeys,
and alas! many are killed by hunters in the
South, where laws are not generally observed.
But their places about our homes are filled
by others so closely resembling the old friends
that we are not able to detect the difference,
except by the most painstaking observations,
and our enjoyment of their presence goes on
as we have no knowledge of the change.

Bird Company

"And the birds sang round him, o'er him."

— Hiawatha, Longfellow.

My friend, the Old Guide, is an ardent bird
lover. During all the years he has lived in the
woods he has ever been alert in the study of
their ways, and has gained close acquaintance
with them. Not only has he been a careful and
intelligent observer, but he possesses in an
unusual degree that natural fondness for, and
sympathy with, the wild folk, both birds and

292 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

animals, which are necessary to a keen insight
into their habits. Being much alone in the wil-
derness from the nature of his calling, he turned
to the study of these creatures for amusement,
and he has had many interesting experiences.
As you cannot have the pleasure of hearing these
stories from his lips, I will attempt to record a
few here.

It often happened that with the approach of
the season of deep snows his occupation as guide
ceased, and he sought employment as cook for a
crew of lumbermen. During the long winters he
had many quite unusual experiences with the
birds and one in particular he relates, which af-
forded him much amusement and real pleasure
as wxll. Far in the woods, cut off from civiliza-
tion, the only means of communication with the
outside world being the tote team which made
occasional trips to the settlement for supplies,
he turned to the feathered and the furred folk
about him for entertainment.

The winter days being very short, the men
left camp for their labor in the morning, before
the first glint of daylight, returning when the
shades were beginning to fall, for in the gloom
of the spruce forest the night comes quickly.
During the hours of daylight he was left alone
with a boy, his assistant in the work of prepar-
ing food for the crew. A part of the boy's duty
was to carry the midday lunch to the men who
were cutting the timber too far from the camp
to warrant their return at noon. By eleven
o'clock each day the boy would set out with
buckets of food and great pots of steaming

BIRD ODDITIES 293

coffee on a strong, roughly built sled drawn by a
sedate old horse, as the lumber roads are far
from smooth and adapted only to a very slow
pace, if one is to travel safely. Thus left alone
for several hours each day my friend turned to
the birds for amusement.

When, in late November, the first real stress of
winter came with the deeper snows, a flock of
Red Crossbills took up their temporary abode
in the evergreen trees near the camp. For these
he sprinkled bits of food on the snow, at first
withdrawing at once that his presence might
not keep them from the feast. But very quickly
they learned of his benevolence, and his appear-
ance was the signal for them to drop down from
the treetops and gather about him. The small
flock of Crossbills grew into a large one as the
winter advanced, and they were joined by a
great number of "Chit-a-wits, " as he calls them,
a bird which I believe to be either the Tree
Sparrow or Redpoll.

Learning their great fondness for salt, he
sprinkled their food generously with it, and
threw out for them the brine from the pork
barrels, the salt of which they eagerly devoured.
In a few weeks a colony of more than a hundred
came to depend upon him for their daily food
supply. So tame did they become under this
gentle treatment, that his signal whistle was in-
stantly followed by the whir of many wings as
down they came, lighting on his shoulder, hat
and arms, even peeking into the pockets of his
coat, where were stowed away a few choice bits
of cake well seasoned with salt. In a short time

294 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

he could take them in his hands, stroking and
petting them as one does a tame Canary.

But they would permit the presence of no one
else. In telling the lumbermen of his pets a
desire was expressed to see the unusual sight
and arrangements were made for feeding the
birds at dusk as the men came from work. So
the next day he postponed the feeding until a
halloo from the forest signaled the approach of
the men. As usual his whistle brought the birds
about, and in a moment he was covered with
them, eagerly clamoring for their delayed supper.
When they were well settled at their meal, at
his low whistle, the men quietly appeared around
the corner of the camp, when instantly with a cry
of alarm, the entire flock, Crossbills and *' Chit-
a-wits," took wing for the hemlocks and could not
be induced to return while the men were in sight.
But as soon as the men withdrew, back came the
birds and finished their meal without further
interruption. Although the experiment was tried
again and again during the winter, not once did
the birds remain at their feeding after the men
came into view.

All winter he had these pets about him, and
much amusement and keen pleasure he derived
from their friendliness and companionship. He
left in the early spring at the close of the season's
operation with a deep sense of regret and a feel-
ing of loneliness at leaving his feathered friends.
"And," said the old man, after relating the
story, '"I was never happier in my life than dur-
ing that winter with tJiose dear little creatures
for my everyday companions. " One can readily

BIRD ODDITIES 295

believe that under such circumstances the daily
presence of birds means much to a genuine
Nature lover.

Jay Talk

He tells me that in the early days in the lum-
ber camps the Canada Jay bore the name of
*^The Old Logger." The legend is that when
an aged lumberman died his spirit at once took
possession of a Jay, and if the bird was killed
the spirit, too, died with it. This tale was told
to all novices who appeared at the camps and
as a result they were very careful to do no injury^
to these too friendly birds. Perhaps this lenient
treatment accounts, in a manner at least, for
their extreme boldness.

Regarding the great hardihood of these birds
which enables them to rear their young when
the terrible cold of winter still prevails, he re-
lates the following story: The driver of the tote
team left camp one bitter cold morning in early
March to drive to the settlement, a long day's
journey distant. Because of an accident on the
road he was delayed for several hours and when
night overtook him he cut a fir tree from the
thick brush of which to make a shelter. As the
tree fell a brood of half-grown Canada Jays was
thrown out upon the frozen snow, cr)'ing pite-
ously in their distress. But quickly the parent
birds came and bore them away one by one to a
neighboring spruce.

The eggs must have been laid and hatched in
February when the temperature was many
degrees below zero. Think of the vigor and

296 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

courage of birds that will hatch their young
under such conditions ! The food problem must
have been a difficult one for them to solve,
and had not the fledglings been constantly
brooded by one of the parents, they would have
perished from the cold.

A common pastime of the lumbermen, who
well know the Jay's great fondness for meat, is
to attach a bit to one end of a long string, the
other end of which is fastened to a log of the
camp near a window. The operator then places
string and meat in a crevice between the logs
and withdraws to await developments. No
sooner is he in the cabin than the Jay, which
all the time has been an interested spectator of
these careful preparations, seizes the tempting
morsel and starts with a rush toward some
secluded perch where his feast is likely to be
uninterrupted. Scarcely is he under way when
with a jerk he is brought up with a suddenness
that upsets him. Nothing daunted, however,
he will return again and again until, in sheer
pity for his keen hunger, the string is cut, and
the meat is borne away in triumph.

Another diversion of the men is to balance
a long dry spruce pole across the log which forms
the doorsill of the camp, half of the pole being
inside. To the outer end are fastened scraps of
meat. When the Jay, and there is always one
about, lights on the pole and seizes the bait, a
man in the cabin hits the pole a mighty blow
with an axe, and the poor bird is hurled many
feet into the air. Yet he is uninjured by this
rough treatment, and will return repeatedly

BIRD ODDITIES 297

until he is at last allowed to devour the morsel
in peace.

An incident which is also an excellent illus-
tration of the fearless greed of the Canada Jay-
was related by another friend who is a persistent
and skillful hunter of big game. While hunt-
ing moose in the Oxbow country one day, he sat
down with his guide on an old log to lunch and
rest. Almost immediately the Jays came, silent
as ghosts, and perched just above their heads.
When the food from the guide's pack was
placed on the log the birds at once attempted
to seize it and were kept from their purpose only
by careful watching. Finally, to test their
audacity, the hunter holding his rifle in his
hands, impaled a doughnut on the end of the
barrel. No sooner did a Jay observe the tempt-
ing morsel than he flew down and began to
eagerly devour it, when the discharge of the
rifle hurled him several feet into the air. But
he was uninjured and soon returned to the
feast, which this time he was allowed to finish.
Truly the utter fearlessness of these birds is
beyond man's understanding.

The Lost Fisherman

The Old Guide also told me of an amusing
incident which happened when he was guiding
at Camp Caribou on Parmacheenee Lake in
northern Maine. An elderly fisherman from the
city, Mr. Chickering by name, refusing the as-
sistance of a guide, made his way about the
woods alone, often spending the entire day on

298 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

some stream in pursuit of his favorite sport.
One evening in June he failed to return to camp,
but came in the next morning just as a party of
guides was making ready to search for him. A
night in the woods had improved neither the
old man's appearance nor his temper. He com-
plained bitterly of the insults hurled at him
from the treetops by some ill bred birds through
the long hours of the night, declaring that they
mocked him in his distress, even repeating his
name in derision. As he wandered about in his
efforts to locate the trail to camp he had talked
to himself in the anguish and fear under which
he labored, for being lost in the great forest at
night was to him a very serious matter. Then
came the teasing of these heartless birds, in
sheer mockery singing:

"Poor Mr. — Chickering, — Chickering, — Chickering;
A-1-1 night — Chickering, — Chickering, — Chickering,"

repeated again and again, until his wrath
against these feathered jesters was at high
pitch. When told that this was the usual song
of the White-throated Sparrow, his anger was
somewhat appeased, but he never quite forgave
these sweet singers who made light of his dis-
tress. You will remember that the song of this
bird has been given several different interpre-
tations, the particular version depending upon
the choice of the interpreter.

Woodpecker Wooing

The male Woodpecker, not being endowed
with musical talent, resorts to other means for

BIRD ODDITIES 299

attracting and winning the affections of a mate.
Being a skillful drummer, as we have already
learned, he attempts to drum his way to the
heart of the retiring female. Clinging to a dead
dry stub, he beats a lively tattoo, perhaps think-
ing by this display of skill to prove his ability
to bountifully supply his mate and the nestlings
with fat grubs.

While fishing one spring on Kennebago Lake
with a party of friends, we occupied a log cabin
at some distance from the main camp. Close be-
side our cabin was a garden enclosed by a high
fence of woven wire to protect the growing
vegetables from the ravages of deer which were
very abundant in that region. The taut wire
was securely fastened to dry cedar posts set
firmly in the ground. Every morning about
daylight, a male Hairy Woodpecker came and
hammered away on the resonant posts, the
sound running around the enclosure as on a tele-
phone line, seeming to increase rather than di-
minish as it traveled. We were regularly awakened
by this early drummer, and for some time I was
unable to determine the reason for his attacking
the sound, dry posts which gave little prospect
of containing a supply of grubs, or wood borers.
After a time I saw a female flying shyly about in
the edge of the woods and then the whole affair
was plain to me. But alas! there came a tragedy
to mar the success of this sylvan wooing. One
morning in a frenzy of zeal he flew to the stove
funnel which projected from the guide's camp
in lieu of a chimney, and upon this he beat such
a roll that every sleeping inmate was instantly

300 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

awakened. A well aimed shot from a rifle in the
hands of an angry guide who strongly objected
to being disturbed at such an unseemly hour
put an end to the love making. Indeed "he
loved not wisely but too well. "

A Strange Occurrence

Two friends of mine set out one morning in
late September from the Mt. Kineo House for a
day's fishing on Moosehead Lake. As it was the
open season for duck shooting, guns were taken
along with the hope that some of these birds
might be found in the sheltered coves about
Lily Bay. While disposing of guns and tackle
in the light boat preparatory to starting out,
the leader attached to one of the lines fell over-
board, a fact of which the fishermen were un-
aware until a hard jerk on the rod warned them
that a trout had struck at the tempting flies.
On raising the rod it was found that the leader
had parted from the line, and together with the
flies had been carried off by the fish. Specula-
tion naturally followed as to the size and daring
of the trout, but a new cast was quickly made
up and attached to the line, and the sport began
with little thought of the accident.

In the late afternoon as they rounded a point
which protected a reed-bordered cove, a Wood
Duck was seen at some distance, which at their
appearance made frantic efforts to fly, but was
unable to rise from the water, being held down,
as it seemed, by some invisible weight. Ap-
proaching within gun shot, the duck was killed,

BIRD ODDITIES 3m

and on taking it into the boat it was found that
an artificial trout fly attached to a leader had
caught in the bird's foot, and upon pulling in the
leader, which all the while seemed strangely
endowed with life, judging from the circles it
cut in the water, a two-pound trout was found
securely fastened to a fly at the end. After a
little careful examination of flies and leader it
was identified as the very same cast which had
been so quietly filched as they were starting in
the morning. Aiuch discussion followed this
remarkable occurrence and the conclusion was
reached that the trout had dragged the leader
about the lake and coming near the surface had
hooked the trailing fly into the duck's foot.
And because of the size of the fish, the duck,
when attempting to fly, had been unable to
lift it. A photograph was taken of trout, duck
and leader as they were taken from the water.

Chapter XVIII
BIRD PROTECTION

"Think of your woods and orchards without birds!

Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds

Make up for the lost music, when your teams

Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more
The feathered gleaners follow to your door?

You call them thieves and pillagers; but know,
They are the winged wardens of your farms,

Who from the cornfields drive the insidious foe,
And from your harvests keep a hundred harms."

— The Birds of Killingworth, Longfellow.

In the last quarter of a century a great change
of attitude toward birds has taken place among
the citizens of our country. Slowly, to be sure,
but, nevertheless, steadily interest in the preser-
vation and increase of bird life has been aroused
until today in city and country alike bird con-
servation is a very live topic. This is largely due
to the fact that it has been demonstrated even
to the satisfaction of the veriest doubter that the
protection of birds has an important economic
phase, entirely apart from the claim of the
nature lover, whose sole argument might be the
very good one of protecting the bird for its own
sake as a creature of surpassing beauty, of nota-
ble vocal ability and highly interesting habits,
which make strong appeal to the aesthetic side,
if no other.

302

BIRD PROTECTION 303

In recent years, because of the great war, the
problem of Increased food production and con-
servation has been so very Important, the need for
bird protection becomes Imperative. I'he destruc-
tion of crops from the Inroads of insect pests has
become to the farmer and orchardlst an annual
menace. So serious In some sections of the
country' are these ravages that raising crops has
been almost despaired of. The activities of the
brown-tall moth in New England, the boll weevil
in the cotton fields of the South, the cinch bug
and Hessian fly In the wheat fields of the West,
the potato bug throughout the North, to men-
tion but a few of the most common, at times have
reached such proportions as to constitute a
serious problem for the farmer, to be met even
in a partial degree only by expensive and labori-
ous methods.

A striking instance of the value of birds in crop
protection is found in the story of the Franklin
gulls coming as by a miracle and saving the crops
of the early Mormon settlers from destruction by
black crickets. As myriads of crickets had
stripped the country the season before, a repe-
tition would have meant starvation for the hardy
settlers on the very outskirts of civilization.
Timely, indeed, was the coming of the gulls, for
they completely destroyed the pest, insuring the
harvest. The Mormons have commemorated
the event by the erection of a beautiful monu-
ment in Salt Lake City, and ever since that
eventful season Franklin gulls have been safe
from harm among this grateful people.

If you have seen an orchard denuded by the

804 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

brown-tail or gypsy moth as though swept by
fire, or a deciduous forest stripped clean of every
vestige of green, transformed as it were to the
nakedness of winter, you have some idea of the
serious character of damage wrought by insects.
The boll weevil of the cotton fields has caused
such destruction that throughout whole sections
rich lands have been abandoned or turned to
some other crop. It has been estimated that the
damage done to crops by insects throughout the
United States in a single year reaches the en-
ormous sum of ^800,000,000. This is no idle esti-
mate, but has been arrived at after painstaking
research extending over a series of years, and
most careful computation. Truly, a destruction
of such magnitude deserves, even commands, the
earnest attention of all thoughtful persons.

In this connection certain estimates made by
ornithologists and other scientists of state and
Federal departments of agriculture relative to the
value of the service rendered by birds in meeting
this evil are of prime interest. The keen appe-
tites of young birds are well known, it being
thought probable that the consumption of the
bird's own weight in food per day is not an
unusual occurrence. This very likely means in
the case of the insect-eating birds that a single
brood consumes from three hundred to one thou-
sand insects in a single day. Chester K. Reed,
the well known ornithologist, estimated that in
Massachusetts alone birds destroy twenty-one
thousand bushels of insects daily from May to
September. In Nebraska a naturalist estimates
that the daily consumption of insects at the

BIRD PROTECTION :^05

height of the season, the latter half of July and
August, is one hundred and seventy carloads!
While in New York State the estimated de-
struction of injurious insects by birds each season
is more than three million bushels! Mr. William
R. Oates, game commissioner of Michigan, has
estimated the value of the service rendered by
birds annually in that state in the destruction of
noxious insects and weed seeds at more than
^10,000,000. What a saving, and at what a tri-
fling cost! Enormous as the figures are it should
be remembered they are based upon well known
facts. A very little logical reasoning readily leads
to the conclusion that adequate protection of bird
life is not only the natural but the least expensive
means of preventing the vast annual damage to
crops from causes largely preventable. In the light
of these disclosures, is it not apparent that there
are few problems of the farmer of greater mo-
ment.^ And, unlike many other difficulties in the
farmer's path, the remedy to a great degree is at
hand.

Besides these bird laborers never go on strike,
never become intoxicated, never complain of
the weather, take no days off either for sport
or recreation. In the face of these facts can
we do less than protect in every possible way
such faithful friends of man.^ And all they
ask in return is a reasonable supply of food, a
secure nesting place, and protection from their
numerous enemies. Careful students of natural
phenomena have concluded that were all the
birds destroyed, the earth in a comparatively
short time would become uninhabitable for man.

306 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

Formerly country boys were quite accustomed
to collect birds' eggs, entirely oblivious of the
fact that taking the clutch meant the destruction
of a whole brood of birds. Today, as a direct
result of intelligent and sustained instruction in
the schools and numerous nature clubs, as well as
through the columns of the press, every boy and
girl understands something of the value of the
live bird, both as an object worthy of careful
study for the beauty of its plumage, pleasing
notes and songs and interesting habits, and for its
practical value as a necessary aid to the farmer.
In consequence they have become guardians of
the birds, no mean allies in saving and recruiting
this important army. While it probably may not
be claimed that birds can meet in their entirety
such difficult problems as the destruction of the
boll weevil or brown-tail moth, yet it has been
demonstrated by numerous experiments that
they can do much to keep these pests in check.

Formerly, too, men and boys with guns ruth-
lessly destroyed many varieties other than game
birds with very little heed to their rapidly
diminishing numbers. I well remember when a
boy in the country, shooting matches were
organized for Thanksgiving Day. A table of
counts having been arranged for the different
varieties of birds and animals likely to be found
in Maine at that season, competing parties sallied
forth literally combing the country over large
areas, killing every wild creature, in feathers or
fur. The result was truly appalling. And after
the collections were made and the count ren-
dered all the smaller birds and animals were

BIRD PROTECTION 307

given over to the cats — only game birds being
regarded of value for food. Fortunately these
destructive forays passed out of fashion long
ago, and, in consequence, birds and small animals
in that region, except perhaps in the case of
game birds, are now much more numerous than
formerly.

For many years the feather hunter wrought
his merciless slaughter almost at will, and several
of the most beautiful varieties came dangerously
near to the point of extermination. The dainty
white Egret of Florida was reduced almost to the
vanishing point and even Sea Gulls, those familiar
figures of harbor and shore, were greatly dimin-
ished in number under the murderous gun of this
relentless destroyer. And all this because many
ladies of the land held the mistaken notion that
the feathers of a poor dead bird constitute a
necessary and becoming adjunct to the milliner's
art. Other varieties with attractive plumage
suffered great reduction in numbers, and but for
the timely intervention of kindly disposed law-
makers would have gone the way of the Wild
Pigeon, Great Auk, and Labrador Duck.

Desultory attempts were made to correct this
condition but after several years it became evi-
dent that the great variety of laws enacted in
different states, and the entire absence of pro-
tective laws in a large group of states, made
necessary some uniform system, if migratory
birds in general were to be saved from extinction.
Accordingly, in 1913 a Federal law was enacted
forbidding the killing of insect-eating birds be-
cause of their value to agriculture, and of migra-

308 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

tory game birds. The execution of this law was
placed in the hands of the Biological Survey, a
bureau of the Department of Agriculture. The
good effect of this prohibition has been mani-
fested already in the increased numbers of our
more common birds. The lives of many song
birds, — Meadow Lark and Robin, Oriole and
Thrush — have been made much safer by this
wise and timely effort in their behalf. And now
a treaty has been made between the United
States and Canada looking to the adequate pro-
tection of all migratory birds. All good citizens,
bird lovers in particular, may well rejoice at the
outcome of the hard struggle so valiantly carried
on for many years in behalf of these valuable
friends of man. And to those enterprising men
and women who have brought about this better
day, gratitude and homage are due which may
best be expressed in an earnest effort to obey all
the laws looking to bird protection, and to com-
pel such obedience from others.

A leading part in securing enactment of
adequate laws for bird protection and their
enforcement, and in stimulating public interest
in the subject throughout the country, has
been played by the National Association of
Audubon Societies. This worthy organization
has undoubtedly done more than any other
agency — perhaps more than all other agencies
combined — to bring to public attention the great
importance of protecting bird life. It '*<i accord-
ingly deserving of the cordial support of all good
citizens.

The increased interest in rural life, and in

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BIRD PROTECTION 309

ever}' phase of nature study attendant upon the
back-to-the-land movement has found its order-
ly expression in wisely conceived and admirably
executed activities for bird-protection clubs and
societies. These organizations have taken up the
work with serious purpose which has already
brought about remarkable results. Winter feed-
ing of birds, planting of shrubs bearing berries
to their taste, protecting nesting sites, and the
placing of birdboxes, in short, being a real friend
of the birds has done much to increase their num-
bers and to bring them close about our homes,
both in city and country. So much interest has
been aroused it may even be said the crisis is
passed, the low-water mark reached, and the
tide is now at flood with a strong, deep current
of public opinion behind it, that makes quite
certain even better conditions year by year.
But earnest, united, and sustained action will be
necessary to keep the tide moving in the right
direction The fact that such a good beginning
has been made should occasion no laxity, but
serv^e as a stimulus to greater activity on behalf
of the birds. The great importance of conserving
all our material resources, of protecting beyond
the possibility of extinction the rich fauna with
which Nature has so generously endowed this
countr>% together with the dire need of protect-
ing food crops has given tremendous impetus to
this movement.

Better protection of game birds. Ruffed-
grouse, Snipe, Quail, Woodcock, etc., is already
under way. Who can tell what favorable results
may be realized from encouraging Bob-white to

310 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

become a summer denizen of the potato field?
None can deny the charm of his presence, an-
nounced by his plaintive cry, one of the most
alluring call-notes heard in all birdland. Well
authenticated reports are at hand of Bob-white's
very successful protection of the potato patch
from its all too common foe. In our garden a
Rose-breasted Grosbeak has been seen regaling
himself upon the fat grubs of the potato beetle
with a zest that betokened great fondness for
these delicacies. How better could one secure
even partial immunity for the potato field than
to encourage Quail and Grosbeak to take up
residence there.'' Would it not be worth our
attention to insure them a full guaranty of pro-
tection if for no other purpose than to attract
such beautiful and interesting neighbors? Very
laudable and successful efforts have been made
by public-spirited citizens keenly alive to the
necessity for protecting the birds, toward estab-
lishing bird reservations. Beginning in 191 3,
through the efforts of the Audubon Society,
several islands along the coast of the Southern
States, which are all the year homes of several
varieties and winter feeding ground for numer-
ous migrants, have been designated by Federal
authorities as places where birds shall be free
from molestation by man. This movement has
extended until there are in all some seventy such
reservations scattered through the Western
States — even to far-away Alaska. To be sure,
adequate funds from Federal sources have not
been available to properly police these isolated
tracts, yet the amount available, supplemented

BIRD PROTECTION 811

by the funds and splendid efforts of the Audubon
Society, has accomplished much, and the out-
look is most encouraging.

In addition to these natural reservations,
private citizens, and, in some instances, muni-
cipalities have established sanctuaries. Consider-
able tracts have been made safe for nesting sites,
and generally attractive both to summer and
winter residents. This is an excellent example
of the awakened interest in a very important
field. Why may not ever}^ farmer increase the
fullness of bin and mow by making provision of
sanctuary for his bird visitors.^

Another constant menace to birds, especially
to those that become trustful summer residents
of lawn and orchard, garden and barn, is the
ubiquitous cat. Much attention has been given
by bird lovers in recent years to the destruction
wrought by this favorite pet, with the result that
many who were formerly ardent and constant
partisans of tabby have come to look upon her
race with increasing disfavor. For it has been
learned through many tragedies of the nest that
one may not have both close bird friends and
cats as pets, unless the latter are confined, or
restricted by some device from depredations
upon birds which seem a natural phase of feline
instinct. When it has come to a matter of
choice in some cases at least, probably in many,
the house pet has been eliminated to the great
joy of the feathered folk.

We have not had a cat about our house in sum-
mer for many years, and in consequence, our
bird friends have been both numerous and

512 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK

intimate. Tree Swallow and Song Sparrow,
Chippy and Sebec, Blue Bird and Barn Swallow,
Robin and Phoebe, have come close about, nest-
ing in the woodbine on the house and in the little
boxes placed for them. In the thick grass fields
close by, the summer colony is large, including
Bobolinks, Meadow Larks, Sandpipers, Savanna,
Song and Vesper Sparrows, with Kingbirds and
Cherrybirds in the orchard. We are convinced
that the presence of cats would appreciably lessen
the number of these trustful friends of ours. The
mellow notes of the Black-billed Cuckoo as he
slyly rests for a time hidden in the thick top of a
shade tree on the lawn on a sultry August day,
having regaled himself, perhaps, upon the juicy
inmates of some caterpillar tent, is a far greater
joy to us than could be experienced from the
presence of a house cat. And, besides, the destruc-
tion of a caterpillar nest is neither a clean nor
a pleasing task for the caretaker of the lawn.

Startling figures relating to the destruction of
birds by cats have been given by those who have
looked deeply into the question. In a single sea-
son a house cat has been known to kill fifty birds.
That they destroy annually in the United States
several millions of valuable birds seems a con-
servative estimate. It is believed that annually
the seventy thousand cats in Massachusetts kill
ten birds each, making an appalling total of seven
hundred thousand birds. In this ratio through-
out the whole country the destruction would be
almost incredible.

There are many other natural enemies of the
birds both in feathers and fur. Several varieties

BIRD PROTECTION 313

of Hawks, Owls, Jays, Shrikes and Crows are
recognized destroyers of eggs and nestlings.
Just what the extent of this destruction is has
not been ascertained, but enough is known to
justify the belief that the aggregate constitutes
a considerable factor in lessening bird life.
Snakes, foxes, skunks, mink, numerous rodents
and the noisy red squirrel are among the enemies
that prey upon both eggs and young, as well as
adult birds. So that the perils are many. A
season's daily inspection of the nests in one's
neighborhood will reveal so many tragedies that
the wonder is that any young survive. Add to
these natural marauders the depredations of the
house cat, the dangers of migration from ex-
posure, from losing their way in the fog, from
striking lighthouses and suspended wires of
various sorts, and the wonder grows. The dem-
onstrated ability to face so many vicissitudes
and survive in increasing numbers is excellent
proof of the hardihood and sturdiness of these
feathered friends of man.

Every loyal citizen wherever and when-
ever opportunity offers should become a self-
appointed warden to guard and protect the birds
— the natural food conservators of the nation.
Is it too much to ask of all thoughtful people,
men and women, boys and girls, that they enlist
in the ever-increasing army of bird-protectors,
ready and anxious to do all in their power to
lessen their constant perils.^ An excellent test of
citizenship is one's attitude toward and interest
in the conservation of such useful and altogether
attractive creatures.

INDEX

Numbers in heavy-faced type indicate pages containing de«crip-
tions of birds.

Blue Jay, 17, 100, 149
Bobolink (Reed Birds, Rice

Birds), 6, 20, 22, 23, 32, 111
Bob White, 24, 35, 219
Bohemian Waxwing, 203
Breeding, 10, 11, 12
Brewster, William, 96
Broadwinged Hawk, 228
Bronzed Crackle, 124
Brown Creeper, 139
BrownThrashcr (Brown Thrush),

169
Bullfinch, 17

Bunting, 22, 24, 25, 35, 41, 60, 61
Burroughs, John, 32, 54, 61, 75,

93, 99, 101, 137, 191

Age, 14

Albatross, 19

Alder Flycatcher (Traill's Fly-
catcher), 77, 255

American Bittern (Stake Driver)
199

American Goldfinch (Wild Ca-
nary, Yellowbird, etc.), 66

American Redstart, 178

American Three-toed Wood-
pecker (Ladder-back), 130

Amundsen, Roald, 18

Arctic Three-toed Woodpecker,
130

B

Baltimore Oriole (Firebird), 119
Bank Swallow, 13, 27, 84
Barn Swallow, 28, 80
Barred Owl (Hoot Owl), 233
Baynes, Harold, 144
Baywinged Bunting, 41
Belted Kingfisher, 200
Bicknell's Thrush, 88, 96
Bird Protection, 302, 307
Bird Sanctuaries, 310
Birds in Crop Protection, 303
Bird Study, 16,33,34
Bittern, 199

Black-billed Cuckoo, 204
Blackburnian Warbler, 194, 266
Black-throated Blue Warbler,

171,181
Black-throated Green Warbler,

171, 182
Black Poll Warbler, 171, 189
Black and White Warbler, 171,

176
Blanchan, Neltje, 41
Bluebird. 1, 3, 12, 13, 30, 101,

240, 290
Blue Grosbeak, 60
Blue Heron, 26

Call Notes, 30

Canada Jay (Moose Bird, Meit
Hawk, etc.), 12, 162, 295

Canadian Ruffed Grouse, 268

Canadian Spruce Grouse, 260

Canadian Warbler, 193

Cardinal (Virginia Redbird), 22.
33,66

Carolina Chickadee, 146

Carolina Wren, 163

Cassowary, 19

Catbirds (Northern Mocking-
bird), 3, 26, 167

Causes of Bird Destruction, 306

Cause of Migration, 7

Cedar Waxwing, 202

Chapman, Frank M., 43, 03,
109, 170, 178

Chat, 188

Chebec (Least Flycatcher), 71

Cheney, John Vance, 145

Cherrybird, 12, 32, 266

Chestnut-sided Warbler, 186

Chewink (Towhcc, Ground Rob>
la), 66

810.

316

INDEX

Chickadee (Black-capped Tit-
mouse), 31, 32, 35, 144, 146,
279

Chimney Swift, 28, 210, 241
Chipping Sparrow, 39, 243, 284
Classification, 34, 35, 36
Cock of the Woods (Pileated

Woodpecker), 254
Color of Plumage, 22
Color Protection, 23, 25
Cone-eaters, 20

Cooper's Hawk (Hen-hawk), 224
Cowbird, 10, 114
Crane, 19, 20, 32
Crested Flycatcher, 74, 254
Crossbill, 20, 35, 64, 293
Crow, 28, 32, 35, 154
Cuckoo, 204, 206

D

Distribution of Bird Life, 18

Diving Birds, 19

Dove, 30, 206

Downy Woodpecker, 35, 128,

277
Duck, 5, 9, 21, 27, 32, 301
Dwight, Dr., 44

Eave Swallow (Cliff Swallow),

28, 81
European Blackbird, 17
Evening Grosbeak, 60

Field Sparrow, 41

Finches, 3, 12, 17, 20, 22, 23,

25, 41, 56
Fish Hawk (Osprey), 229
Flagg, Wilson, 106, 112
Flamingo, 19
Flicker (Yellowhammer, etc.),

135 278
Flycatcher, 2, 17, 18, 22, 67, 69,

71, 74, 75, 254, 255, 286, 287
Form, 18, 19
Fox Sparrow, 4, 44, 283
Frigate-bird, 19

G

Geese, 2, 5, 9, 21

Gibson, William Hamilton, 58

Golden-crowned Kinglet, 147

Golden Plover, 7

Goldfinch, 12, 22, 23, 25, 66

Crackle, 12, 13, 124

Grass-finch, 41

Grasshopper Sparrow, 43

Gray-cheeked Thrush, 88, 96

Great Blue Heron, 196

Great-crested Flycatcher, 286

Great Gray Owl, 234

Grebe, 19

Grosbeak, 60

Ground Robin (Chewink, To-

whee), 66
Grouse, 21, 27, 258, 260, 276
Gull, 18

H
Hairy Woodpecker, 35, 127,

251 278
Hawk, 5, 18, 27, 28, 31, 32, 211,

221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226,

228 229
Hermit Thrush, 33, 90, 244, 283
Heron, 9, 19, 20, 25, 196
Horned Lark, 35
House Wren, 18, 29, 164
Hudsonian Chickadee, 146
Humming Bird, 20, 27, 255, 287
Hunting Birds, 18

I
Incubation, 10
Indigo Bunting, 22, 25, 60
Insect-eaters, 37

Jay, 12, 17, 32, 35, 100, 149,

152, 295
Junco (Sla^-colored Snowbird),

53, 243, 282, 289

K
Kingbird (Tyrant Flycatcher),

18, 69, 286
Kingfisher, 27, 200
Knight, Ora, 175

Lark, 24, 33, 35, 116
Loggerhead Shrike, 218
Long-billed Marsh Wren, 167

INDEX

'M7

Long-cared Owl, 234
Loon, 5, 9, 19, 21, 27, 268
Louisiana Water Thrush, 193

M
Magnolia Warbler (Black and

Yellow Warbler), 194
Marsh Hawk, 28, 222
Martin, 32,86

Maryland Yellow-throat, 187
Mathews, Schuyler, 73, 90
Mating, 9

Meadow Lark, 24, 116
Migration, 1, 8, 13
Mocking Bird, 3, 26, 33, 157, 161
Moulting, 13
Mourning Dove, 206
Myrtle Warbler, 3, 173

N
Nashville Warbler, 183
Natural Enemies of Birds, 311
Nests, 10, 25, 30
Night Hawk, 27, 211
Nightingale, 33
Northern Shrike (Butcher Bird),

216
Nuthatches. 35, 140, 141, 142

Gates, William R., 305

Olive-backed Thrush (Swain-
son's Thrush), 87, 94, 244

Olive-sided Flycatcher, 76, 254

Orchard Oriole, 118

Oriole, 28, 118, 119,286

Ostrich, 19

Ovenbird (Teacher Bird), 190,
265

Owl, 5, 18, 24, 28, 35, 221, 230,
231, 232, 233, 234, 235

Partridge, 21,24, 260

Parula Warbler, 17, 184

Penguins, 18

Phoebe (Pewee, Bridge Pewee),

29, 67, 284
Pigeon, 17
Pigeon Hawk, 227

Pileatcd Woodpecker (Cock oi

the Woods), 131, 254
Pine Grosbeak (Pine Bullfinch),

59
Pine Siskin (Pine Finch), 62, 257
Pine Warbler, 177
Plover, 24
Plumage, 13, 21
Ptarmigan, 24
Purple Crackle, 18, 123
Purple Finch, 22, 51, 242, 283
Purple Martin (House Martin),

86

R
Redbreasted Nuthatch, 142
Red-eyed Vireo (Preacher Bird),

106
Red-headed Woodpecker, 137
Redpoll, 63

Red-shouldered Hawk, 226
Redstart, 178
Red-tailed Hawk, 225
Red-winged Blackbird, 121, 280,

285
Red-winged Crossbill, 64
Reed, Chester K., 304
Reedbirds (Bobolink), 6
Ricebirds (Bobolink), 6
Robin, 1, 3, 4, 12, 13, 18, 26, 28,

30, 55, 96, 240, 280, 285, 290
Rose-breasted Grosbeak, 57
Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 148
Ruffed Grouse, 2, 11, 24, 35,

257, 258, 260
Rusty Blackbird, 123, 246

Sandpiper, 21, 198

Sapsucker, 133

Savanna Sparrow, 42, 283

Saw-whet Owl, 232

Scarlet Tanager, 22, 23, 25, 208

Screech Owl, 231

Sebec (Chebec), 71, 255

Seed-eaters, 20, 37

Sentinel Crow, 30

Sharp-shinned Hawk (Hen

Hawk), 223
Sharp-tailed Sparrow, 44
Short-billed Marsh Wren, 168

318

INDEX

Short-eared Owl, 234

Shrike, 31, 216, 218

Skylark, 33

Slate-colored Snowbird (Junco),

63
Snipe, 19, 32
Snowbunting (Snowflake), 24,

35, 37, 61
Snowy Owl, 24, 35, 236
Solitary Viero (Blue-headed

Vireo), 110
Song, 31
Song-Sparrow, 1, 3, 13, 29, 32,

37, 38, 39, 240, 282
Sparrow, 3, 4, 13, 20, 22, 24,

28, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43,

44, 46, 47, 49, 50, 243, 245,

282, 296, 298
Sparrow Hawk (Killy Hawk),

226
Spotted Sandpiper (Steelyard

Bird or Teeterup), 198
Spruce Partridge, 24, 260
Starling, 17, 214
Summer Tanager, 208
Swallow, 6, 9, 13, 19, 22, 27,

28, 32, 79, 80, 81, 82, 84,

241, 287
Swamp Sparrow, 46
Swimming Birds, 19

T

Tanager, 22, 23, 25, 208
Thoreau, Henry David, 63, 107,

112, 167
Thrasher, 157, 169
Thrush, 17, 22, 32, 33, 40, 87,

88, 90, 92, 95, 96, 192, 193,

244,283
Three-toed Woodpecker, 130
Time of Mfgration, 7, 13
Titmouse, 143
Torrey, Bradford, 109
Towhee (Chewink), 66
Tree Sparrow (Winter Chippy),

60
Tree Swallow, 13, 28, 82, 241
Tufted Titmduse, 143
Turtle Dove, 30

Van Dyke, Dr. Henry, 92
Veery (Wilsons Thrush), 87,

92,244
Vesper Sparrow, 40, 283
Vireo (Greenlet), 25, 27, 32,

104, 106, 107, 108, 110

W

Wading Birds, 19, 32
Warblers, 3, 13, 18, 25, 170,

171, 173, 174, 176, 179, 181,

182, 183, 185, 186, 189, 193,

194, 266, 273, 284, 287
Warbling Vireo, 105
Water Birds, 32
Water Thrush, 17, 192
Waxwing, 202, 203
Whippoorwill, 212
White, Gilbert, 9
White-breasted Nuthatch, 141
White-crowned Sparrow, 49
White-eyed Vireo, 108
White-throated Sparrow, 3, 47,

245, 298
Wild Geese, 2
Wilson Thrush (Veery), 87,

92 244
Wilson s Warbler, 186
Winter Chippy (Tree Sparrow),

50
Winter Wren, 165, 248
Woodcock, 19
Woodpeckers, 3, 17, 20, 35, 126,

127, 128, 130, 251, 254, 277,

278, 298
Wood Pewee, 72
Wood Pigeon, 17
Wood Thrush, 87, 88
Wood-Warblers, 170
Wrens, 18, 29, 157, 163, 164,

165, 167, 248

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, 17, 76
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, 133
Yellow-billed Cuckoo, 206
Yellow-breasted Chat, 188
Yellow Palm Warbler, 174
Yellow-throated Vireo, 107
Yellow Warbler, 179

Co

AMNH LIBRARY

100101331

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