CEDAR-UIKlJ
THE FIRST BOOK
OF BIRDS
BY OLIVE THORNE MILLER
WITH EIGHT COLORED AND TWELVE
PLAIN PLATES AND TWENTY
FIGURES IN THE
TEXT
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
SO?)
COPYRIGHT, 1899, BY H. M. MILLER
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
QU
PREFACE
THIS book is intended to interest young peo-
ple in the ways and habits of birds, and to stim-
ulate them to further study. It has grown out
of my experience in talking to schools. From
the youngest kindergarten scholar to boys and
girls of sixteen and eighteen, I have never failed
to find young people intensely interested so long
as I would tell them about how the birds live.
Some of the results of these talks that have
come to my knowledge have been astonishing
and far-reaching, such as that of one boy of
seven or eight, who persuaded the village boys
around his summer home to give up taking eggs
and killing birds, and watch them instead, and
who was dubbed " Professor " by his eager fol-
lowers. The effect has always been to make
children love and respect the living bird.
It has therefore seemed to me that what is
needed at first is not the science of ornithology,
iv PREFACE
— however diluted, — but some account of the
life and habits, to arouse sympathy and interest
in the living bird, neither as a target nor as a
producer of eggs, but as a fellow-creature whose
acquaintance it would be pleasant to make.
With this purpose in view I have expanded
my " Children's Talks " into this little book, to
be used as an introduction to one of the most
fascinating and delightful of studies.
I hope it is unnecessary to say that I have
been careful to have the latest and the best
authorities for the statements made, and I take
pleasure in presenting a list of them : —
On Structure : Dr. Elliott Coues, of Washing-
ton, D. C. ; Professor Headley, of Haileybury
College, England ; Mr. Lucas, Curator of Com-
parative Anatomy, of the National Museum.
On Moulting: Mr. Witmer Stone, of Phila-
delphia Academy of Sciences.
On Color : Professor Newton, of Cambridge
University, England.
On Food : Professor Beal, of Biological Sur-
vey, United States Department of Agriculture ;
Mr. Forbush, of Massachusetts State Board of
Agriculture ; Mr. Forbes, Director Illinois State
PREFACE v
Laboratory of Natural History ; Dr. C. Hart
Merriam, Chief of Biological Survey, United
States Department of Agriculture.
On Migration : Mr. William Brewster, Presi-
dent American Ornithologists Union ; Mr. Frank
M. Chapman, of American Museum of Natural
History, of New York.
On Sleep : Rev. Leander Keyser ; Mr. J.
Newton Basket.
On Language : Mr. John Burroughs ; Profes-
sor Hameric, of Peabody Conservatory of Music
of Baltimore ; Mr. Leverett M. Loomis, of Cali-
fornia Academy of Sciences.
OLIVE THORNE MILLER.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
L WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW 1
II. WHEN THEY COME IN THE SPRING . • • 3
THE NESTLING
HI. THE BIRD'S HOME 9
IV. THE BABY BIRD 13
V. HOW HE IS FED 17
VI. His FIRST SUIT 21
VII. HOW HE CHANGES HIS CLOTHES . . . . J35
VIII. His FIRST FLIGHT 29
IX. His EDUCATION 33
X. SOME OF HIS LESSONS 37
THE BIRD GROWN UP
JUT. THE BIRD'S LANGUAGE 43
XII. WHAT HE EATS . 48
XIII. MORE ABOUT HIS FOOD 52
XIV. WHERE HE SLEEPS 57
XV. His TRAVELS 61
XVI. His WINTER HOME . ^ 66
XVII. His FAMILY AND FRIENDS 70
XVIII. His KINDNESS TO OTHERS 74
XIX. His AFFECTIONS 78
XX. His INTELLIGENCE 83
HOW HE IS MADE
XXI. His BODY 91
XXII. His BEAK AND TONGUE 95
XXIII. His EYES AND EARS 100
XXIV. His FEET AND LEGS 105
,XXV. His WINGS AND TAJ* 109
viii CONTEXTS
XXVI. His DRESS 114
XXVTL DIFFERENT COLORED Suns ... .118
HIS RELATIONS WITH US
XXVUL How HE WORKS FOR us ...... 125
XXIX. HOW TO ATTRACT HIM ABOUT OUR HOMES . 131
XXX. How TO STUDY HIM ....... 136
147
LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGB
CEDAR-BLRD (colored) ...... Frontispiece
YELLOW-THROATED VlREO AND NEST 4
AMERICAN GOLDFINCH (colored) 14
YOUNG WOOD THRUSH 22
BLACK AND WHITE WARBLER (MALE AND FEMALE) . 26
BALTIMORE ORIOLE AND NEST (colored) .... 34
FLICKER 38
BLUEBIRD (colored) 44
BLCE JAY 54
iNDIGOrBIRD 62
SCARLET TANAGER (colored) 74
HOUSE WREN 80
CHEWINK, OR TOWHEE 92
REDSTARTS (FEMALE ON NEST) (colored) .... 100
LESSER YELLOWLEGS 106
CATBIRD 114
AMERICAN ROBIN (colored) 120
BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEES 126
CARDINAL 132
MEADOWLARK (colored) » 140
THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW
BIRDS seem to be the happiest creatures on
earth, yet they have none of what we call the
comforts of life.
They have no houses to live in, no beds to
sleep on, no breakfast and dinner provided for
them.
This book is to tell something about them;
where they live and what they eat, where they
sleep, how they get their beautiful dress, and
many other things. But no one can tell all
about their lives and habits, for no one knows
all their ways.
Men who study dead birds can tell how they
are made, how their bones are put together, and
how many feathers there are in the wings and tail.
Of course it is well to know these things. But
2 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
to see how birds live is much more interesting
than to look at dead ones.
It is pleasant to see how mother birds build
their nests, and how they take care of their
nestlings. It is charming to see the young ones
when they begin to fly, and to know how they
are taught to find their food, and to keep out
of danger, and to sing, and everything young
birds need to know.
Then when they are grown up, it is interest
ing to find out where they go in winter, and
why they do not stay with us all the year round.
One who goes into the field to watch and
study their ways will be surprised to find how
much like people they act. And after studying
living birds, he will never want to kill them.
It will seem to him almost like murder.
WHEN THEY COME IN THE SPRING
IN the long, cold winter of the New England
and Middle States, not many birds are usually
seen. In the cities there is always the English
sparrow, and in the country, now and then a
chickadee, or a woodpecker, or a small flock of
goldfinches.
But very early in the spring, long before grass
is green, even while snow is on the ground, the
birds begin to come.
Some morning a robin will appear, standing
up very straight on a fence or tree, showing his
bright red breast and black cap, flirting his tail,
and looking as if he were glad to be back in his
old home.
Then perhaps the same day will come the
hoarse chack of a blackbird, and two or three will
fly over and alight in a big bare tree, looking, it
may be, for a good place to build a bird city.
Soon will be heard the sweet little song of the
song sparrow or the bluebird, and then we shall
4 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
know that summer is coming, for these are the
first birds of spring.
Day after day, as the snow melts away and
the sunshine grows hotter, more birds will come.
One day a catbird or two, another day an oriole
in black and gold, and another day a pert little
wren. So it will go on, till by the time June
comes in, all our birds will be back with us, very
busy, hopping around in our bushes and trees,
making their nests all about, and singing the
whole day long.
Almost the first thing every bird thinks of,
when he comes to us, is making the nest. For
summer is the only time in his life that a bird
has a home.
He does not need a house to live in. He
cares nothing for a roof to cover him, because
when the sun is hot, he has the broad green
leaves on the trees to shade him. And when it
rains his neat feather coat is like a waterproof
that lets the drops run off, leaving him warm
and dry under it.
He does not need a dining-room, because he
eats wherever he finds his food, and he wants no
kitchen, because he prefers his food raw.
He has no use for a bedroom, because he can
sleep on any twig ; the whole world is his bed-
room.
YELLOW-THROATED VIREO AND NEST
WHEN THEY COME IN THE SPRING 5
He cares nothing for closets and bureaus,
because he has only one suit of clothes at a
time, and he washes and dries that without tak-
ing it off.
He wants no fire to keep him warm, for when
it is too cold he spreads his wings and flies to a
warmer place. A bird has really no need of
a house, — excepting when he is a baby, be-
fore his eyes are open, or his feathers have
come, or his wings have grown. While he is
blind, naked, and hungry, he must have a warm,
snug cradle.
So when the bird fathers and mothers come
in the spring the first thing they do is to find
good places and build nice cradles, for they are
very fond of their little ones. They spend the
spring and summer in working for them, keep-
ing them warm, feeding them till they are
grown up, and then teaching them to fly and to
take care of themselves, so that when summer is
gone they will be ready to go with the other
birds to their winter home.
THE NESTLING
m
EACH bird mother has her own way of mak-
ing the nest, but there is one thing almost all of
them try to do, and that is to hide it.
They cannot put their little homes out in
plain sight, as we do our houses, because so
many creatures want to rob them. Squirrels
and snakes and rats, and some big birds, and
cats and many others, like to eat eggs and young
birds.
So most birds try, first of all, to find good
hiding-places. Some tiny warblers go to the
tops of the tallest trees, and hide the nest among
the leaves. Orioles hang the swinging cradle at
the end of a branch, where cats and snakes and
naughty boys cannot come. Song sparrows
tuck the little home in a tuft of weeds, on the
ground, and bobolinks hide it in the deep grass.
After a safe place is found, they have to get
something to build of. They hunt all about
and gather small twigs, or grass stems, or fine
10 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
rootlets, and pull narrow strips of bark off the
grapevines and the birch-trees, or they pick up
strings and horsehairs, and many other things.
Robins and swallows use mud.
As they go on building, the mother bird gets
inside and turns around and around to make it
fit her form, and be smooth and comfortable for
her to sit in.
When a nest is made, it must be lined. Then
some birds go to the chicken yard, and pick up
feathers, and others find horsehairs. Some of
them pull off the soft down that grows on
plants, or get bits of wool from the sheep pas-
ture, or old leaves from the woods, and make it
soft and warm inside.
Some bird homes are only platforms, where
it seems as if the eggs must roll off, and others
are deep burrows, or holes in the ground, where
no one can get in. Some are dainty baskets
hung between two twigs, and others are tiny
cups of felt with lichens outside.
Each species of bird builds in its own way.
There are as many different ways to make nests
as there are kinds of birds to make them.
Then after all the trouble birds have taken to
build a nest, they seldom use it a second time.
If a pair have two broods in a season, they
almost always build a new one for each family.
THE BIRD'S HOME 11
A few birds, such as eagles, owls, and some-
times orioles, and others, repair the home and
use it again, and woodpeckers sometimes nest in
the old holes. But generally, after the young
birds have flown, we may be sure the nest will
not be wanted again.
When the nest is finished, the eggs are laid
in it, one by one. We aU know how pretty
birds' eggs are. Some are snowy white, some
are delicate pink, and some blue. Many have
tiny dots and specks on them, and a few are
covered with queer -looking streaks and lines.
But pretty as they are, I think no one would be
so cruel as to take them away from the poor
little mother, if he remembered that her young
ones are inside them, and that she loves them as
his own mother loves him.
I have heard people say that birds do not
care for their eggs. Let me tell you what a
little chickadee mother did when a man tried to
steal the eggs out of her nest.
The nest was in a hole in an old stump, and
the man could not get his hand in, so he had to
take them out one at a time with a little scoop.
At first the mother flew at him and tried to
drive him away. Then chickadees and other
birds who lived near came to help her. All
flew about his face with cries, so that he had to
12 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
use one hand to keep them away from his eyes.
But still he went on taking out the eggs.
At last the little mother was so wild with
grief that she dashed into the hole and sat there
in the doorway, right before his face. He could
not get another egg without hurting her, and he
was ashamed to do that.
This was as brave in the tiny creature as it
would be for a human mother to throw herself
before a fierce, hungry tiger. Do you think
she did not care for her eggs ?
IV
THE BABY BIRD
A BABY bird, as you know, always comes out
of an egg. And beautiful as these eggs are,
they are most interesting when you think that
each one holds a tiny bird.
Eggs are not all alike, of course. One the
size of a bean is large enough to hold a hum-
mingbird baby, till it is old enough to come
out. But the young ostrich needs a shell nearly
as big as your head. So there are all sizes of
eggs to fit the different sizes of birds.
If you should break a fresh egg you would
not see a bird, for it would not be formed at
that time. After the egg is laid in its soft bed,
it has to be kept warm for many days, and that
is why the mother bird sits on her nest so
quietly. She is keeping the eggs warm, so that
the little ones will form and grow, till they are
as big as the shells can hold.
While the mother is sitting her mate does all
be can to help, though each species has its own
14 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
way. The blue jay brings food to his mate, so
that she need not leave the nest at all, and many
others do so. But the kingbird father simply
watches the nest to protect it while the mother
goes for food. A redstart gets into the. nest
himself, to keep the eggs warm while his mate is
gone, and a goldfinch coaxes his mate to go off
with him for a lunch, leaving nest and eggs to
take care of themselves.
Another thing the father birds do is to sing.
This is the time when we hear so much bird
song. The singers have little to do but to wait,
and so they please themselves, and their mates,
and us too, by singing a great deal.
When the little birds begin to be cramped,
and find their cradle too tight, they peck at the
shell with a sort of tooth that grows on the end
of the beak, and is called the " egg tooth."
This soon breaks the shell, and they come out.
Then the mother or father carefully picks up
the pieces of shell, carries them off, and throws
them away, leaving only the little ones in the
nest. Perhaps you have found these broken
shells on the ground sometimes, and could not
guess how they came there. When the bird-
lings break out of their prison they do not all
look the same. Ducks and geese and chickens
and quails, and other birds who live on the
AMERICAN GOLDFINCH
THE BABY BIRD 15
ground, as well as hawks and owls, are dressed
in pretty suits of down. They have their eyes
open, and the ground birds are ready to run
about at once.
A man who studied birds, once saw a young
duck get its first suit of down. He picked up
the egg just as the little bird inside was trying
to get out. In a few minutes the shell fell
apart, and out stepped the duckling on his hand.
It seemed to be covered with coarse black hairs,
which in a moment began to burst open, one by
one, and out of each came a soft fluff of down.
So in a few minutes, while the man stood there
and held him, the little duck was all covered
with his pretty dress.
But most birds hatched in nests in trees and
bushes, like robins and bluebirds, are very dif-
ferent. When they come out of their shells
they are naked, have their eyes shut, and look
as if they were nearly all mouth. A young
hummingbird looks about as big as a honey
bee, and a robin baby not much bigger than the
eggshell he came out of.
They lie flat down in the nest, seeming to be
asleep most of the time. All they want is to be
warm and to be fed.
To keep them warm, the mother sits on them
a great part of the time, and for the first few
16 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
days of their lives, the father often brings most
of the food. Sometimes he gives it to the
mother, and she feeds the little ones. But
sometiiMtfjfce gets off the nest, and flies away
to T^jHfd get something to eat for herself,
wlute he feeds the nestlings,
^rnere is one bird father who — it is thought
— never comes to the nest, either to watch the
eggs or to help feed the nestlings. That is our
hummingbird, the ruby throat.
We do not know the reason for this, and it
is not fair to say hard things about him until
we do. It may be that he thinks his shining
ruby would show the hiding-place of the nest,
or it may be that the little mother is not willing
to have any help. I think this last is the real
reason, for she has a great deal of spirit, and
always drives away others from her feeding-
places.
Young birds grow very fast, and soon feathers
begin to come out all over them. They are not
very pretty at this time.
HOW HE IS FED
SOON after the young bird comes out of the
egg, he begins to be hungry. All day long,
whenever the father or mother comes near, he
opens his great mouth as wide as he can, to have
it filled, and the moment he gets his voice he
cries for food.
Then the old birds have to work hard. Three
or four hungry nestlings can keep both father
and mother busy from morning till night, hunting
for caterpillars and beetles and grubs and other
things to feed them. It seems as if the little
fellows never could get enough to eat. Each
swallow baby wants seven or eight hundred small
flies every day, and a baby robin needs more
earthworms in a day than you can hold in your
hand at once.
At this time you will see robins hunting over
the lawn, and carrying great beakfuls of worms
up to the nest. Bluebirds you will find looking
in the grass, and sparrows hopping about on the
18 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
ground, all seeking soft worms and grubs and
insects for the nestlings ; and they are so busy
they do not get much time for singing.
At this time the orioles go all over the or-
chard trees looking for tiny worms, and little
warblers seek them under every leaf.
Woodpeckers find the insects hidden behind
the bark of trees, by cutting holes through it.
Chickadees and nuthatches pick the tiniest insect
eggs out of the crevices, and flickers hunt every-
where for ants.
As soon as one of the old birds has his mouth
full, he flies to the nest to feed the young.
But not all birds feed in the same way. A
robin just drops a big earthworm, or a part of
one, into the gaping baby mouth. Many other
birds do so also. Sometimes, when an insect is
too big or too hard, they beat it till it is soft,
or break it up, before giving it to a little one.
But hummingbird mothers and flicker mo-
thers have a different way. When they collect
the food they swallow it, as if they wanted it for
themselves. Then they go to the nest, and jerk
it up again in mouthfuls, and feed the nestlings.
This is called feeding by " regurgitation," or
" throwing up."
The way they give the food is very curious.
They push their long beaks into the nestling's
HOW HE IS FED 19
throat, and poke the food far down ; so the
young one does not even have the trouble of
swallowing.
This looks as if it must hurt, but the nestling
seems to like it, and is always ready for more.
The pigeon mother lets the young one poke his
beak down her throat, and get the food for
himself.
If the food is hard, like corn, birds who feed
in this way let it stay in the crop till it is soft
and better fitted for tender throats, before they
give it out.
It is comical to see a nest full of little birds
when the father or mother comes with food.
All stretch up and open their big mouths as
wide as they can, and if they are old enough,
they cry as if they were starving.
Some birds bring food enough for all in the
nest, every time they come. A cedar-bird, feed-
ing wild cherries, brought five of them every
time, one for each of the five nestlings. One
cherry was held in his mouth, but the other
four were down his throat, and had to be jerked
up one by one.
Other birds bring only one mouthful at a
time, and when there ar^nve or six in the
nest, they have to make as many journeys before
all are fed.
20 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
Some persons who have studied birds think
that each nestling is fed in its turn ; but they
look so much alike, and are so close together,
that it is hard to tell, and I am not sure that
it is so.
I will tell you a story I have heard about
feeding little birds. A child picked up a young
goldfinch who had fallen out of the nest. He
took him home and put him into the canary's
cage, which was hanging on the front porch.
Soon the family heaqfca great noise among
the birds, and went oJfco see what was the
matter. The baby goldBich had hopped on to
a perch in the cage, and^eemed to be afraid to
come down, though the^ old1 birds had brought
food for him, and were calling him to take it.
The canary looked on a while, and then all at
once he flew to the wir^s and took the food from
the birds outside; then he went back to the
perch beside the little one and gave it to him.
This he did many times.
The next day another young goldfinch was
picked up and put in the cage, and the canary
took food from the parents and fed both.
After a few days the old birds came with a
third little one, and as all were now old enough
to fly, the cage door was opened, and they all
flew away.
VI
HIS FIRST SUIT
SOME birds that live on the ground — as I
told you — have dresses of down to begin with.
These little fellows have no warm nest to stay
in, but run around almost as soon as they come
out of the egg. Young ducks and geese wear
this baby suit for weeks, before they begin to put
on their feather coats.
Young birds that spend most of their time in
the water, like grebes, and others that live in a
cold country, have the down very thick and fine,
like heavy underclothes, to keep them dry and
warm.
Birds whose home is underground, like the
kingfisher, or in the trunk of a tree, like the
woodpecker, have hardly any down at all. They
need no baby clothes in their warm cradles.
Robins and most other song birds have only
a little down on them, and very soon the feathers
begin to grow.
When the tiny quills push themselves up, they
22 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
look like little white pins sticking out all over.
Each bit of down grows out of a little raised
place on the skin that looks like a pimple, and
the feather comes out of the same.
As the feather grows, the bit of down clings
to it till it is broken off. Sometimes it holds
on till the feather is well out. We can often
see down sticking to a young bird's feathers.
The little feathers grow very fast, and before
he is ready to fly a young bird is well covered.
Birds hatched with their eyes open, and already
dressed, who have to run and fly very soon, get
their wing feathers early; but birds who live
many days in the nest, like robins and bluebirds,
do not get theirs till they are nearly grown.
The tail feathers are the last to come to full
length, and you will notice that most birds just
out of the nest have very dumpy tails.
A bird's first suit of feathers is called his nest-
ling plumage. In some families it is just like
the dress of the grown-up birds, but in others it
is not at all like that. It is usually worn only
a few weeks, for the young one outgrows it,
and needs a new and bigger one before winter.
When a bird is fully dressed, his body is en-
tirely covered, and it looks as if the feathers
grew close to each other all over him. But it is
not so. The feathers grow in patterns, called
YOUNG W®OD THRUSH
HIS FIRST SUIT 23
* feather tracts," with spaces of bare skin be-
tween them. These bare places do not show,
because the feathers lap over each other and
cover them.
The pattern of the feather tracts is not the
same in all birds. A few birds of the Ostrich
family have feathers all over .the body.
There is another curious thing about the nest-
ling plumage. You would expect a young bird
to look like his father or mother ; and some of
them do. Many nestlings are dressed exactly
like their mothers ; and not until they are a
year old do the young males get a coat like their
father's. Some of them, indeed, do not have
their grown-up suits for two or three years.
Then, again, many young birds have dresses
different from both parents. Young robins have
speckled breasts, and spots on the shoulders,
which the old birds have not.
When the father and mother are dressed alike,
as the song sparrows are, the young birds gen-
erally differ from both of them. When the father
and mother are different, like orioles or blue-
birds, the young are usually like the mother the
first season. In some cases the father, mother,
and young are almost exactly alike.
Birds who live on the ground need dresses of
dull colors, or they would not be very safe. The
24 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
ostrich mother, who makes her nest in plain sight
on the sand, is dressed in grayish brown. When
she sits on the eggs, she lays her long neck flat
on the ground before her j then she looks like
one of the ant-hills that are common on the
plains of Africa, where she lives.
The South American ostrich, or rhea, fluffs
out her feathers and looks like a heap of dry
grass. The male ostrich is dressed in showy
black and white, and he stays away all day, but
takes care of the nest at night, when his striking
colors cannot be seen.
vn
HOW HE CHANGES HIS CLOTHES
IT takes a bird weeks to put on a new suit of
clothes. He has nothing but his feathers to
protect him from cold and wet, and as feathers
cannot grow out in a minute, he would be left
naked, and suffer, if he lost them all at once. So
he changes his dress one or two feathers at a
time.
Some day a feather will drop from each wing.
If you could look, you would see that new ones
had started out in the same place, and pushed
the old ones off. When the new ones are pretty
well grown another pair will fall out.
If all dropped out at once, besides suffering
with cold he' would not be able to fly, and he
could not get his living, and anybody could
catch him. But losing only one from each side
at a time, he always has enough to fly with.
It is the same way with his tail feathers. He
loses them in pairs, one from each side at the
same time.
26 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
The soft feathers that cover his body drop
out one by one. Thus all the time he is putting
on a new suit he still wears part of the old one.
In this way he is never left without clothes for a
moment.
Most birds put on their new suits just after
the young ones are grown up, and before they
all start for the South to spend the winter, — that
is, with many of our common birds, in August.
At that time they are rather shy, and stop sing-
ing. If you did not see one now and then, you
might think they were all gone.
Sometimes the new fall suit is not at all like
the old one. There is the goldfinch, all summer
in bright yellow. When he comes out in his
new suit in August, it is dull-colored, much like
the one his mate wears all the year, and in win-
ter, when goldfinches fly around in little flocks,
they look nearly all alike.
In the spring, the male goldfinch comes out
again in yellow. He has two suits a year, — a
bright yellow one in the spring, and a dull olive-
green for the winter. But his new spring dress
is not a full suit. The yellow of the body is all
fresh, but the black wings are the same the year
round.
Some birds have two, different colored dresses
b a year; one they get without changing a
BLACK AND WHITE WARBLERS (MALE AND FEMALE)
HOW HE CHANGES HIS CLOTHES 27
feather. Suppose they have feathers of black,
with gray on the outside edges. All winter the
gray shows and the birds seem to have gray
coats. But in spring the gray edges wear or fall
off, and the black shows, and then they look as
if they had come out in new black suits. It is
as if you should take off a gray overcoat and
show a black coat under -it.
There is another interesting thing about birds'
dress. Some of them look like their mates, the
father and mother birds so nearly alike that it is
hard, sometimes impossible, to tell them apart.
But when that is the case, you will notice that
the color is not very gay. If the father wears a ,
bright-colored suit, the mother does not look likqr
him.
For this reason the little mother is not too easily
seen when she is on her nest. If the goldfinch
mother were as bright as her mate, everybody
who came near would see her on the nest, and
some animal might take her, and leave the young
birds to starve to death. That is probably why
mother birds dress in such dull colors.
When birds live on the ground, or very near
it, in most cases both of the pair wear the dull
colors, so they will not easily be seen. Wrens
and sparrows and many others are so. But birds
who make their nests in holes, or under ground,
28 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
are often as bright as their mates, because they
cannot be seen while sitting, and do not need to
wear dull colors.
A curious thing about a bird's color is that
the same species, or kind of bird, is darker in
one place than another. Where there is much
dampness or wet weather, the colors are darker.
For instance, a bob-white who lives in Florida,
or one who lives in Oregon, will be much darker
than his cousin living in New England.
vm
HIS FIRST FLIGHT
WHEN young birds are in the nest they are
not very pretty. But when they are nearly
feathered, and sit up on the edge, exercising
their wings, and getting ready to fly, they are
lovely to look at. Their feathers are more fluffy
and fresh than those of the old birds.
At that time they have not learned to be afraid
of us, and if we do not frighten them by rough-
ness, loud talking, or quick movements, we can
often get near enough to see them well. They
will sit up and look at us without fear.
Then some day, all at once, a young bird will
begin to flap his wings, and off he will go, flut-
tering very hard, beating his wings, and trying
to reach the next tree.
Sometimes he will reach it, and perch on a
twig, and sit quite still a long time, tired with
his first flight. Then the parents will come and
feed him, and after a while he will fly again.
This time he will go farther.
30 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
So he will go on, till in a few days he can fly
very well, and follow his parents about, and begin
to learn where to get food.
Sometimes when a young bird leaves the nest
he does not reach the tree he starts for, but falls
to the ground. Then there is trouble among
the birds. He is in danger of being picked up
by a cat or a boy, or of getting tangled in the
grass or weeds.
The poor parents are half wild with fear. They
coax him to try again, and they follow him about
in the grass, in great distress. I have many
times picked up a little bird, and set him on a
branch of a tree, or stood guard over him, driv-
ing away cats and keeping off people, till he
reached a place where he would be safe.
When young birds are out, but cannot yet
fly very well, there is much anxiety about them.
Then, if any one comes around to disturb them,
what can the poor little mother do ? Sometimes
she makes her young ones hide. Some of the
birds who live on the ground will give a certain
cry, when in a second every little one will crouch
on the ground, or creep under a leaf, and be per-
fectly still. And their dark colors look so like
the earth one can hardly see them.
Then the mother tries to make one look at
her by queer antics. She pretends to be hurt,
HIS FIRST FLIGHT 31
and tumbles about as if she could not fly. If it
is a man or an animal who has frightened her,
he will usually think he can easily catch her ;
so he will forget about the young ones, and fol-
low her as she goes fluttering over the ground.
She will go on playing that she is hurt, and
moving away, till she leads him far from her
brood. Then she will start up and fly away,
and he cannot find his way back to where the
little ones are still crouching.
Sometimes when a mother is frightened, she
will snatch up her young one between her feet,
and fly away with it. Sometimes a mother will
fight, actually fly into the face of the one she
fears. Often, too, other birds come to her aid ;
birds of many kinds, — catbirds, robins, thrash-
ers, and others, — all come to help her drive
away the enemy, for birds are almost always
ready to help each other.
I once found a young blue jay who had come
to the ground while trying his first flight. I
thought I would pick him up and put him on a
branch. But the old birds did not know what I
meant to do, and perhaps they were afraid I
would carry him off.
They flew at me with loud cries to drive me
away, and I thought it best to go, for I did not
want to make them any more unhappy than they
were already.
32 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
I did not go far, because I wanted to see
that no one caught the little one. He hopped
about in the grass a long time, while his parents
flew around him in great distress. Many times
he tried to fly, but he could not rise more than
two feet from the ground.
At last he seemed to make up his mind to
climb a tree, for when he came to one with a
rough bark he began to go up. He would fly
up a few inches, then hold on with his claws to
rest. And so, half flying and half climbing, he
went on till he reached the lowest limb. On
that he perched and was quiet, glad to rest after
his hard work. The old birds were happy, too,
and brought food to him, and so I left them.
IX
HIS EDUCATION
THE young bird has to be educated, or trained
for his life, just as we do, though not exactly
in the same way.
He does not have to know arithmetic and
history ; and what he needs of geography is
only the road to the South, where he spends his
winters.
I suppose the first thing he learns is to fly.
You have heard, perhaps, that the old birds
drive their young out of the nest. But do not
believe any such thing, for it is not true. I
have seen many little birds leave the nest, and
almost every one flew when the parents were
away after food.
The parents sometimes try to coax a nestling
who is afraid to try his wings, like an oriole I
knew of. All the young orioles had flown
except this one, and he seemed to be too timid
to try. He stood on the edge of the nest, and
called and cried, but did not use his wings.
34 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
The father came to see him now and then, and
at last he made him fly in this way. He caught
a fine, large moth, and brought it to the nest in
his beak. The young bird was very hungry,
and when he saw the food, he opened his mouth
and fluttered his wings, so eager to get it he
eould hardly wait.
But the parent did not feed him. He let him
see the moth, and then, with a loud call, he
flew to the next tree. "When the little oriole
saw the food going away, he forgot he was
afraid, and with a cry of horror he sprang after
it ; and so, before he knew it, he had flown.
After the young bird can fly, he needs to be
taught to get his own living, or to find his own
food, and also where to sleep. Then he must
learn what to be afraid of, and how to protect
himself from his enemies.
He needs to know the different calls and cries
of his family, and what they all mean. He has
to learn to fly in a flock with other birds, and
he must learn to sing. No doubt there are many
more lessons for him that we do not know
about.
If you watch little birds just out of the nest,
you may see them being taught the most useful
and important lesson, how to find their food.
The robin mother takes her little one to the
BALTIMORE ORIOLE AND NEST
HIS EDUCATION 35
ground, and shows him where the worms live
and how to get them. The owl mother finds a
mouse creeping about in the grass, and teaches
the owlets how to pounce upon it, by doing it
herself before them.
The old swallow takes her youngsters into the
air, and shows them how to catch little flies on
the wing ; while mother phrebe teaches hers to
sit still and watch till a fly comes near, and then
fly out and catch it.
If you watch long enough, after a while you
may see the old bird, who is training a young
one, fly away. She may leave the young one
alone on a tree or the ground, and be gone a
long time.
Before many minutes the little one will get
hungry, and begin to call for food. But by
and by, if nobody comes to feed him, he will
think to look around for something to eat.
Thus he will get his lesson in helping himself.
Once I saw a woodpecker father bring his
little one to a fence, close by some raspberry
bushes that were full of berries. He fed him
two or three berries, to teach him what they
were and where they grew, and then quietly
slipped away.
When the young bird began to feel hungry
he cried out j but nobody came. Then he looked
86 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
over at the raspberries, and reached out and
tried to get hold of one. After trying three or
four times, and nearly pitching off his perch, he
did reach one. Then how proud he was !
The father stayed away an hour er more, and
before he came back that young woodpecker
had learned to help himself very well ; though
the minute his father came, he began to flutter
his wings and beg to be fed, as if he were half
starved.
A lady, who fed the wild birds on her window
sill for many years, and watched their ways, says
she often saw the old birds teaching their little
ones. They showed them where the food was
to be found, and, she says, regularly taught
them the art of eating.
Then she saw them taught to be afraid of
people, not to come too near her. And once she
saw an old bird showing a young one how to
gather twigs for nest-building. The young one
looked on a while, and then tried hard to do it
himself, but could not get off a single twig.
Best of all, the same lady heard an old robin
giving a music lesson. The teacher would sing
a few notes and then stop, while the pupil tried
to copy them. He had a weak, babyish sort of
voice, and did not succeed very well at first.
I have heard several birds at their music les-
sons.
SOME OF HIS LESSONS
IT is very easy to catch the birds teaching
their little ones to exercise their wings and to
fly together. You will see the young birds
sitting quietly on fences or trees, when all at
once the parents begin to fly around, with
strange loud calls. In a minute every young-
ster will fly out and join them. Around and
around they all go, hard as they can, till their
little wings are tired, and then they come down
and alight again.
Once I saw a young bird who did not go
when his parents called. All the others flew
around many times, and I suppose that young
one thought he would not be noticed.
But mothers' eyes are sharp, and his mother
saw him. So when she came back, she flew
right at her naughty son, and knocked him off
his perch. The next time she called, he flew
with the rest. This was a crow mother.
I have seen a bluebird just out of the nest,
38 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
taught to follow his father in this way. He
stood on a small tree, crying for something to
eat, when his father came in sight with a beak-
ful of food. He did not feed him, but flew
past him, so close that he almost touched him,
and alighted on the next tree, a little beyond
him.
The little bluebird saw the food, and at once
flew after it, perched beside his father, and was
fed. Then the old bird left him, and in a few
minutes he felt hungry, and began to call
again.
I kept close watch, and soon the father came
and did the same thing over. He flew past the
young one with an insect in plain sight in his
beak, and perched on another tree still farther
along in the way he wanted the little one to go.
The hungry baby followed, and was fed as
before. In this way he was led to a big tree
the other side of the yard, where the rest of
the family were, and where they all spent the
night.
An old robin wanted to teach her young one
to bathe. She brought him to a dish of water
kept for their use by some people who were
fond of birds. The little one stood on the edge
and watched his mother go in, and splash and
scatter the water. He fluttered his wings, and
FLICKER
SOME OF HIS LESSONS 39
was eager to try it for himself, but seemed afraid
to plunge in.
At last the mother flew away and left him
standing there, and in a moment came back
with a worm in her mouth. The young robin
was hungry, as young birds always are, and
when he saw the worm, he began to flutter his
wings, and cry for it.
But the mother jumped into the middle of
the water dish, and stood there, holding the
worm in his sight. The youngster wanted the
worm so much that he seemed to forget his fear
of the water, and hopped right in beside her.
She fed him, and then began to splash about,
and he liked it so well that he stayed and took
a good bath.
Birds, as these stories show, teach their little
ones by coaxing, and not by driving them.
An Englishman, Mr. Lloyd Morgan, once
had some ducks and chickens hatched away from
their mother, to see how much their parents had
to teach them.
He found that these little orphans had to be
taught to pick up their food, and to know what
is good to eat. He had to show the young
ducks how to dive, and teach all of them that
water is good to drink.
To see if chickens had to be taught the hen
40 THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
language, he put them out by their mother
when they were a few days old.
The hen was going about with her brood, all
brothers and sisters of Mr. Morgan's chicks,
and she was quite ready to adopt the new ones.
She clucked and called to them with all her
might, but they did not come. They acted as
if they did not hear her. When the others ran
and crept under her wings to be brooded, the
strangers looked on, but did not think of going
too.
They did not understand the calls or the
ways of their own mother. They had not been
taught.
A careful watcher will see the birds teach
these things, and many others as interesting.
But no one will see anything unless he is quiet,
and does not frighten them.
THE BIRD GROWN UP
XI
THE BIRD'S LANGUAGE
WHEN the bird is grown up, there are many
other interesting things to know about him, —
one is, whether he can talk.
It is plain to those who have studied the ways
of birds, that they are able to tell things to each
other, and many writers have said plainly that
birds have a language.
If you notice birds in cages, you will find that
when two or more of a kind are in the same
room, you will hear little chirps and twitters
and other notes, not at all like their song. But
if one is alone in a room, he hardly makes a
soun^d except when singing.
Then see a robin out of doors. He is less
afraid of us than most birds, and easiest to
watch. If something comes up on him sud-
denly, he gives a sharp note of surprise. If a
cat appears, he has another cry which every one
can understand, a word of warning to all. If
everything is quiet and his mate is near, he will
greet her with some low, sweet notes.
44 THE BIRD GROWN UP
When a partridge mother sees danger, she
gives one call, -which all her brood know, and at
once run and hide. When the hen speaks to
her chicks, they know well whether it means to
come to her, or to run away.
Of course birds do not use our words. When
it is said that the quail says " Bob White," it is
meant that his call sounds like those words.
To some the notes sound like " more wet." One
may call it almost anything, like " all right " or
« too hot."
You will read in books about birds, that a
certain warbler says "Witches here," or that
the white- throated sparrow says " Old Sam Pea-
body," and other birds say still different things.
The writer means that the words remind one of
the bird's notes, and so it is useful to know
them, because it helps you to know the bird
when you hear him.
I have many times seen birds act as if they
were talking to each other. You can often see
the city sparrows do so.
There is nothing in a bird's ways that we like
so well as his singing. And in all the many
species of birds in the world, no two sing exactly
alike, so far as I can find out. You may always
know a bird by his song. A robin does not
sing like a thrush or a catbird. And what is
THE BIRD'S LANGUAGE 45
more, not one of the sounds he utters is like
those made by any other bird. If you know
him well, whatever noise he makes, you will
know at once that it is a robin.
But there is something still more curious
about it. No robin sings exactly like another
robin. When you come to know one bird well,
you can tell his song from any other bird's. Of
course, all robins sing enough alike for one to
know that it is a robin song, but if you listen
closely, you will see that it is really different
from all others.
Persons who have kept birds in cages have
noticed the same thing.
There is still another point to know. One
bird does not always sing the same song. I
have heard a song sparrow sing five or six differ-
ent songs, standing all the time in plain sight on
a fence. In the same way I have known a mea-
dowlark to make six changes in his few notes.
Besides their own natural songs, many birds
like to copy the notes of others. Our mocking-
bird is very fond of learning new things, and he
does not always choose songs either.
He will imitate the noise of filing a saw, or the
pop of a cork, as readily as the sweetest song.
I have heard one sing the canary's song better
than the canary himself.
46 THE BIRD GROWN UP
Other birds can do the same. A common
English sparrow picked up in the streets of a
big city, hurt, and not able to fly, was put into
a room with a canary.
No doubt the wild bird found his life in a
cage rather dull, after having been used to the
streets, and he soon began to amuse himself try-
ing to do as the canary did, to sing. In a few
weeks he learned the whole song, and he could
sing it even better than his roommate, for his
voice was full and rich, and not so shrill as the
canary's.
Most people think that birds sing all summer.
They think so because they have not taken
notice. We who are very fond of bird song
know it is not so.
Singing begins when the birds first come in
the spring. It goes on while the nest is being
built, and the mother bird is sitting. The
father has little to do at that time, and so he
sings. And besides, he seems to be so happy
that he cannot help it.
But when little ones begin to call for food,
he has to be very busy, and does not have so
much time for music. Some birds stop singing
as soon as they go to feeding.
But not all do so. Many go on singing till
they begin to change their clothes, or to moult,
THE BIRD'S LANGUAGE 47
as it is called. This happens in August or
September, and when it begins, a bird seems to
lose his voice.
One of the first to stop singing is the bobo-
link. He is rarely heard after June is past.
The veery is another whose singing days are
over early. You may hear his call in the woods,
if you know it, but not a song will you hear
after the middle of July.
By the time August comes in, almost every
bird is silent, except for his calls or "talk."
The birds to be heard then are the red-eyed
vireo, who seems never to tire, and now and
then the indigo-bird, or the wood pewee, and
best of all, the dear little song sparrow, who
keeps up his cheery songs till the very last.
Then you will know that all the birds are
busy putting on their new suits for their long
journey.
xn
WHAT HE EATS
WHAT the bird eats and where he gets his
food are useful things for us to know. It has
only lately been found out that birds are the
most valuable of helpers to us.
What we cannot eat ourselves, they are happy
to live on, and things that make us a great deal
of trouble are their daily food.
Some of the things they are fond of are
little animals, like mice and ground squirrels,
that eat our crops. Others are insects which
spoil our fruit and eat up our vegetables, canker-
worms and cutworms, and a hundred more.
Besides these, many birds eat the seeds of cer-
tain weeds that farmers have to fight all the
tune.
One reason this helps us so greatly is that
birds eat much more for their size than we do.
A boy of six or eight years could not possibly
eat a whole sheep in one day, but a young bird
can easily eat more than his own weight every
day.
WHAT HE EATS 4f
They want more than three meals too. They
need to eat very often. One catbird will take
thirty grasshoppers for his breakfast, and in a
few hours he will want thirty more. So he de-
stroys a great many in a day.
Birds begin eating long before we are out of
bed, and keep it up till night comes again, or as
long as they can see.
You must not think the birds are greedy, as
a person would be if he ate every few minutes
all day. They are made to do so. It is their
business to destroy insects, small animals, and
weeds that trouble us so much, and the more
they eat the better for us.
Let us see where they go for food. Each
bird has his own place to work.
The catbird watches the fruit-trees, and all
day long eats insects that are spoiling our fruit
or killing the trees. When the cherries are
ripe, we should not forget that he has saved the
fruit from insects, and has well earned a share
for himself.
If you spent days and weeks picking off in-
sects, would you not think you had earned part
of the fruit ? " For every cherry he eats " (says
a man who has watched him), " he has eaten at
least one thousand insects."
The robin eats great numbers of canker-
50 THE BIRD GROWN UP
worms, which destroy our apples, and cutworms,
which kill the corn.
The bluebird sits on the fence keeping sharp
watch, and every few minutes flies down and
picks up a grasshopper or a cricket, or some
such grass-eating insect.
Woodpeckers hunt over the trunks and limbs
of trees. They tap on the bark and listen, and
if they hear a grub stir inside, they cut a hole
in the bark and drag it out. The downy is
fond of insects that infest our apple-trees, and
he makes many holes in the trunks. But it
does not hurt the trees. It is good for them,
for it takes away the creatures that were eating
them.
Orioles go over the fruit-trees, and pick out
tiny insects under the leaves, and when they
find great nests on the branches, they tear them
open and kill the caterpillars that made them.
Little warblers, such as the pretty summer
yellow-bird, help to keep our trees clear, doing
most of their work in the tops, where we can
hardly see them.
Swallows fly about in the air, catching mos-
quitoes and tiny flies that trouble us.
Very useful to us are the birds who feed
upon dead animals, such as the turkey buzzards,
who may be seen any day in our Southern
WHAT HE EATS 51
States, soaring about high in the air, looking
for their food.
What they eat is so very unpleasant to us
that we are apt to despise the birds. But we
should cherish and feel grateful to them in-
stead. For they are doing us the greatest kind-
ness. In many of the hot countries people
could not live, if these most useful birds were
killed.
Some persons think buzzards find their food
by seeing it, and others are just as sure that
they smell it. Perhaps they use both senses.
54 THE BIRD GROWN UP
The goldfinch is called the thistle -bird, be*
cause he likes best the seeds of thistles, though
he eats the beggar's-ticks too.
The chipping sparrow, the little red-headed
bird who comes about our doors, eats the seeds
of fox-tail and crab grasses, that spoil our lawns.
The white-throated sparrow, a large and very
pretty bird, eats the seeds of smartweed and
ragweed. Other finches like bittersweet, sorrel,
and amaranth, all of which we are glad to have
them eat.
The seed-eating birds can find their food in
winter, even when snow covers the ground, be-
cause the dead weeds hold on to their seeds, and
the snow is not often deep enough to cover
them.
Some birds gather their food in the fall, and
hide it away where they can find it in winter.
Blue jays collect acorns and beech-nuts, and
store them in a hole in a tree, or some other
safe place, to eat when food is scarce. A wood-
pecker who lives in the West picks holes in the
bark of a tree, and puts an acorn into each one.
The oddest store I know of was made by a
woodpecker. He found a long crack in a post,
and stuffed it full of live grasshoppers. He did
not like dead grasshoppers. He wedged them
into the crack so tightly that they could not get
BLUE JAY
MORE ABOUT HIS FOOD 55
out, and I do not know that they wanted to.
When grasshoppers were scarce in the fields, he
came day after day to his queer storehouse, till
he had eaten every one.
One of the woodpecker family who lives in
Mexico stores nuts and acorns in the stems of
plants. These stems are hollow and made in
joints like bamboo. The bird cuts a hole at the
upper end of a joint, and stuffs it full. When
he wants his nuts, he cuts a hole at the lower
end of the joint and pulls them out.
-~I once had a tame blue jay, who was fond of
saving what he could not eat, and putting it
safely away. The place he seemed to think
most secure was somewhere about me, and he
would come slyly around me as I sat at work,
and try to hide his treasure about my clothes.
When it was a dried currant or bit of bread,
I did not care ; but when he came on to my
shoulder, and tried to tuck a dead meal worm
into my hair or between my lips, or a piece of
raw beef under a ruffle or in my ear, I had to
decline to be used as a storehouse, much to his
grief.
He liked to put away other things as well as
food. Matches he seemed to think were made
for him to hide. His chosen place for them was
between the breadths of matting on the floor.
66 THE BIRD GROWN UP
Once he found a parlor match, hunted up a
good opening, and put it in. Then he went on,
as he always did, to hammer it down so tightly
that it would stay. One of the blows of his
hard beak struck the lighting end of the match,
and it went off with a sharp crack. The noise
and the flame which burst out made the bird
jump three feet, and scared him nearly out of
his senses.
After that I took care to keep the matches
out of the way of a bird so fond of hiding
things.
XIV
WHERE HE SLEEPS
MOST birds sleep on their feet.
You know how a canary goes to sleep, all
puffed out like a ball, with his head buried in
the feathers of his shoulder. He may stick his
bill over behind the top of the wing, but he
never " puts his head under his wing," as you
have heard.
Sometimes he stands straight up on one leg,
with the other drawn up out of sight in his fea-
thers, but more often he sits down on the perch,
still resting on his feet. Most wild birds of the
perching kind sleep in the same way.
It is only lately that we have begun to find
out where birds sleep, because it is dark when
they go to bed, and they get up before it is
light enough for us to see them.
The only way to catch them in bed is to go
out in the evening, and start them up after they
have gone to sleep. And this is not very kind
to the poor little birds. Some men who are try-
68 THE BIRD GROWN UP
ing to learn about the habits of birds have tried
this way, and so have found out some of their
sleeping-places.
One thing they have learned is that the nest
is not often used for a bed, except for the
mother, while she is sitting and keeping her
little ones warm.
Eobins and orioles, and others, creep into the
thick branches of an evergreen tree, close up to
the trunk. Some crawl under the edge of a
haystack, others into thick vines or thorny
bushes. All these are meant for hiding-places,
so that beasts which prowl about at night, and
like to eat birds, will not find them.
Tree sparrows like to sleep in holes in the
ground like little caves. The men who found
these cosy little bedrooms think they are places
dug out by field mice, and other small animals,
for their own use. And when they are left, the
birds are glad to take them.
When the weather is cold, some birds sleep
under the snow. You may think that would
not be very warm, and it is not so warm as a
bed in the house with plenty of blankets. But
it is much warmer than a perch in a tree, with
nothing but leaves to keep off the wind.
While the snow is falling, some birds find it
as good as blankets for their use. Grouse, who
WHERE HE SLEEPS 69
live on the ground, dive into a snow-bank, and
snuggle down quietly, while the snow falls and
covers them all over, and keeps the cold wind off.
Air comes through the snow, so they do not
smother.
Some birds creep into a pile of brush that is
covered with snow, and find under the twigs
little places like tents, where the snow has been
kept out by the twigs, and they sleep there,
away from the wind and storm outside.
Water birds find the best sleeping-places on
the water, where they float all night like tiny
boats. Some of them leave one foot hanging
down and paddling a little, while they sleep, to
keep from being washed to the shore.
Bob-white and his family sleep in a close
circle on the ground, all with their heads turned
outward, so that they can see or hear an enemy,
whichever way he comes.
Hawks and eagles are said to sleep standing,
never sitting on the feet like a canary. Some
ducks and geese do even more : they sleep stand-
ing on one foot. Woodpeckers and chimney
swifts hang themselves up by their claws, using
their stiff tail for a brace, as if it were" a third
leg.
Some birds, like the crows, sleep in great
flocks. They agree upon a piece of woods, and
60 THE BIRD GROWN UP
all the crows for miles around come there every
night. Sometimes thousands sleep in this one
bedroom, called a crow roost. Robins do the
same, after the young are big enough to fly so
far.
Audubon, who has told us so much about
birds, once found a hollow tree which was the
sleeping - room of chimney swifts. The noise
they made going out in the morning was like the
roar of a great mill-wheel.
He wanted to see the birds asleep. So in the
daytime, when they were away, he had a piece
cut out at the foot of the tree, big enough to let
him in, and then put back, so the birds would
not notice anything unusual.
At night, after the swifts were abed, he took
a dark lantern and went in. He turned the
light upon them little by little, so as not to startle
them. Then he saw the whole inside of the
tree full of birds. They were hanging by their
claws, side by side, as thick as they could hang.
He thought there were as many as twelve thou-
sand in that one bedroom.
XV
HIS TRAVELS
MOST of our birds take two long journeys
every year, one in the fall to the south, and the
other in the spring back to the north. These
journeys are called " migrations."
The birds do not go all at once, but in many
cases those of a kind who live near each other
collect in a flock and travel together. Each
species or kind has its own time to go.
It might be thought that it is because of the
cold that so many birds move to a warmer cli-
mate. But it is not so ; they are very well
dressed to endure cold. Their feather suits are
so warm that some of our smallest and weakest
birds are able to stay with us, like the chickadee
and the golden-crowned kinglet. It is simply
because they cannot get food in winter, that they
have to go.
The fall travel begins soon after the first of
July. The bobolink is one of the first to leave
us, though he does not start at once on his long
62 THE BIRD GROWN UP
journey. By that time his little folk are full
grown, and can take care of themselves, and he
is getting on his winter suit, or moulting.
Then some morning all the bobolinks in the
country are turned out of their homes in the
meadows, by men and horses and mowing-ma-
chines, for at that time the long grass is ready
to cut.
Then he begins to think about the wild rice
which is getting just right to eat. Besides, he
likes to take his long journey to South America
in an easy way, stopping here and there as he
goes. So some morning we miss his cheerful
call, and if we go to the meadow we shall not be
able to see a single bobolink.
There, too, are the swallows, who eat only
small flying insects. As the weather grows
cooler, these tiny flies are no longer to be found.
So the swallows begin to flock, as it is called.
For a few days they will be seen on fences and
telegraph wires, chattering and making a great
noise, and then some morning they will all be
gone.
They spend some time in marshes, and other
lonely places, before they at last set out for the
south.
As the days grow shorter and cooler, the war-
blers go. These are the bright-colored little
INDIGO-BIRD
HIS TRAVELS 63
fellows, who live mostly in the tops of trees.
Then the orioles and the thrushes and the cuckoos
leave us, and most birds who live on insects.
By the time that November comes in, few of
them will be left. Birds who can live on seeds
and winter berries, such as cedar -berries and
partridge-berries, and others, often stay with us,
— bluebirds, finches, and sometimes robins.
Many birds take their journey by night.
Think of it ! Tiny creatures, that all summer
go to bed at dark, start off some night, when it
seems as if they ought to be asleep, and fly all
night in the dark.
When it grows light, they stop in some place
where they can feed and rest. And the next
night, or two or three nights later, they go on
again. So they do till they reach their winter
home, hundreds or thousands of miles away.
These night flyers are the timid birds, and
those who live in the woods, and do not like to
be seen, — thrushes, wrens, vireos, and others.
Birds with strong wings, who are used to fly-
ing hours every day, and bolder birds, who do
not mind being seen, take their journey by day-
light.
Most of them stop now and then, a day or
two at a time, to feed and rest. They fly very
high, and faster than our railroad trains can go.
64 THE BIRD GROWN UP
In the spring the birds take their second long
journey, back to their last year's home.
How they know their way on these journeys,
men have been for many years trying to find out.
They have found that birds travel on regular
roads, or routes, that follow the rivers and the
shore of the ocean. They can see much better
than we can, and even in the night they can see
water.
One such road, or highway, is over the har-
bor of New York. When the statue of Liberty
was set up on an island in the harbor a few
years ago, it was put in the birds' path.
Usually they fly too high to mind it ; but when
there is a rain or fog they come much lower,
and, sad to say, many of them fly against it and
are killed.
We often see strange birds in our city streets
and parks, while they are passing through on
their migrations, for they sometimes spend sev-
eral days with us.
A sparrow, who was hurt and unable to fly,
was picked up one fall and kept in a house all
winter. He was not caged, and he chose for
his headquarters and sleeping-place a vase that
stood on a shelf.
He went with the family to the table, and
made himself very much at home there. He
HIS TRAVELS 65
picked out what he wanted to eat and drink, and
scolded well if he did not have it.
The thing he liked best was butter, and when
he was ready to wipe his bill after eating, as
birds do, he found the coat-sleeve of the master
soft and nice for the purpose. This pleased the
bird better than it did the owner of the sleeve,
but he tried in vain to keep the saucy fellow
off. If he forgot for an instant to watch the
bird, he would dash up, wipe off the butter, and
fly away out of the reach of everybody.
In the spring the sparrow left the family, and
lived out of doors. But, with the first cold
weather of fall, he came back, went to his old
vase, and settled himself for the winter again.
This he did for several years.
XVI
HIS WINTER HOME
NEARLY every bird has two homes, one f 01
winter and one for summer.
We can see why birds leave us and go to a
warmer and better place for the winter ; but why
they do not stay in that country where there is
always plenty of food, but choose to come back
in the spring to their old home, we do not
know.
It may be because they want more room to
build nests, and bring up their little ones. Or
it may be that they want to come back because
they love their old home.
Whatever may be the reason, it is well for us
that they do so, for if we had no more birds in
the summer than we have in the winter, we
should suffer very much from insects. We
could not raise fruit, or vegetables, or grain, for
insects would eat it all. That is one reason we
are so glad that birds come back to us in the
spring.
HIS WINTER HOME 67
Though so many birds leave us in the fall,
they do not all go. A few come to us who have
nested farther north, and some who have been
with us all summer stay over winter too. These
last are called "permanent residents," that is,
they stay all the year round.
In the Middle States of the East — New York,
Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Ohio — there are
twenty or twenty-five who stay all the year.
There are several hawks and owls and wood-
peckers, the crow, bob-white, the blue jay, and
the meadowlark, and, of the little ones, the gold-
finch, in his sober winter coat, his cousin the
purple finch, the song sparrow, the nuthatch,
and the chickadee.
Besides these "permanent residents," there
are ten or twelve who come from the north.
The funny little saw-whet owl is one, and the
snowflake, who loves to frolic in the snow, is
another.
Many of our summer birds stay in the South-
ern States all winter. Those who can eat seeds
and winter berries — for instance, robins and
bluebirds, catbirds and sparrows — need not go
very far south ; and some of them even stay
in the State of New York.
Most of our birds who do not eat berries, but
must have insects, go farther, some to Florida
68 THE BIRD GROWN UP
or the West Indies, others to Central America,
and a few even into South America, — except
the woodpecker, who gets his insects under the
bark of trees.
The summer birds of the Western States nearly
all go to Mexico for the winter.
The little birds who stay with us are only
those who can eat seeds, as I said, or the eggs
and insects to be found in the crevices of the
bark on trees. These birds do a great deal of
good, for each one destroys thousands of insects
before they have come out of the egg. One
small chickadee will eat several hundred insect
eggs in a day.
These little fellows can almost always find
their food, for the snow seldom covers the trunks
of the trees ; but now and then in the winter
we have an ice storm ; then the trunks and
branches are buried under ice, so that the birds
suffer, and perhaps will starve to death.
In such a time it will be kind of you who
live in the country to put out food for them.
You can give them any table scraps of meat or
vegetables, or bread, chopped fine for their tiny
mouths, with corn or grain for bigger birds.
What they all like best to eat is suet, — which
the butcher will give you, — chopped fine, or,
better still, nailed or tied to a branch or a fence,
HIS WINTER HOME 69
so that they can pick off morsels for them-
selves. This will make them all very happy ;
but you must see that the English sparrow does
not drive them away, or eat it all himself.
Some persons who live in the country or
small towns spread a table every day through
the winter for the birds. Many come for food,
and they have great pleasure in watching them
and studying their ways.
One lady I know who is an invalid, and her
greatest happiness in the long cold months, when
she cannot go out, is to set her breakfast-table,
and watch the guests who come to it.
She lives in the southern part of Ohio, and
she has all winter cardinal grosbeaks, or red-
birds as she calls them, blue jays, tufted titmice,
and others. The cardinals are fine singers, and
they sing to her every month in the year.
xvn
HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS
MANY people think that as soon as the young
birds of a nest are full grown, and know how to
take care of themselves, the family separate, and
have no more to do with each other. Some have
even said that the old birds push the little ones
out of the nest to get rid of them.
All this is a great mistake, and any one who
has watched them carefully will say so.
In many cases, when the brood is grown and
all have left the nest, the whole family keep to-
gether. One who has eyes sharp to see will find
everywhere little groups of parents with their
young. If the old birds rear more than one
brood in a summer, the young ones of the first
nest keep together.
I have often seen little parties of young blue-
birds or sparrows going about after food on the
grass, or on the newly cut hay. Now and then
one of the parents would come around as if to
see that all was well, and then leave them alone
HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS • 71
again. When the second brood is ready to go
out, the whole family often unite in a small flock.
In some cases, where they could be watched, they
have been known to stay so all winter. All
through July and August, in the New England
and Middle States, one may see these pretty little
family groups.
Some birds who live and nest by themselves,
each pair in its own tree, or bush, or field, come
together in larger parties after the young are
grown, in a social way. A few do this only at
night, in what are called roosts, which I spoke
of in a former chapter.
Other birds, when nestlings are out, unite in
flocks, and stay so all the time, or through the
winter. Our pretty little goldfinch does this.
Most of the birds we see about our homes like
to have a tree or bush to themselves for their
nest. But there are many birds that live close
together all the time. Some, you may say, in
small villages, — swallows, for instance. We
generally see several swallows flying about to-
gether. They make their nests near each other.
The barn swallow chooses the beams inside the
barn, and there are often three or four or more
nests in the same barn.
The eave swallows put their mud cottages in
a row, under the eaves outside the barn. One
72 THE BIRD GROWN UP
would think they needed to have numbers on
their doors, to know which was their own.
There, too, are the common crow blackbirds.
They come in the spring in crowds, and when it
is time to make nests, they find some grove or
clump of trees that suits them, and all of them
build their nests close together. Often there are
two or three on one tree, like a bird city. There
they live and rear their little ones, and it is said
they never quarrel.
Then there are the birds who get their food
from the sea, such as penguins. These birds live
in big cities, of many thousand nests. They go
to an island where no people live, and build on
the ground, or on rocks, or anywhere.
Sometimes they are so near together one can
hardly walk without stepping on them. How
each mother can tell her own, it is hard to see.
They live very happily together, and if a mother
is killed, so that her little ones are left orphans,
one of the neighbors will adopt them all, and
feed and bring them up with her own.
Some of these birds do not even take the
trouble to make a nest. They put the eggs any-
where on the sand or earth.
Some one, Mr. Brehm, I think, tells a pretty
story about a certain kind of duck who rears two
broods every season. After the ducklings of the
HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS 73
first brood have learned to take care of them-
selves, they go about together, getting their food
and sailing on the water in a little party, while
their parents are hatching the second brood.
But when the younger ones are big enough,
they are led to the water, and at once their elder
brothers and sisters join them. They all swim
around together, the youngest in the middle of
the group, where they are protected and fed by
the elder brood as well as by the parents, a lovely
and united little family.
xvm
HIS KINDNESS TO OTHERS
BIRDS are helpful to each other when in
trouble. If a robin is in distress, other robins
will come to see what is the matter, and to help
if they can. And not only robins, but catbirds,
and orioles, and chickadees, and others, will
come, too.
Sometimes when a person tries to rob a nest,
all the birds near will come in a crowd, to drive
away the thief. They will cry and scream at
him, and sometimes fly at his face, and try to
peck his eyes.
Birds are so little they cannot fight a man,
but if they can peck at his face, they can hurt
him, and. if they really get at his eyes, they can
put them out. We cannot blame the birds for
trying to protect themselves and their young,
and it is well for boys to be careful how they
disturb a nest.
One proof that birds really do help each
other is the fact that when a man wants to know
SCARLET TANAGER
HIS KINDNESS TO OTHERS 75
what birds live in a place, he can bring them all
around him by making a sound like a young
bird in distress. All who hear it will come to
see what is the matter.
Let me tell you a story of some young swal-
lows. They were able to fly a little, and were
sitting together on a roof, when a lady who
was watching them noticed that one of them
seemed to be weak, and not able to stand up.
When the parents came with food, the others
stood up and opened their mouths, and so were
fed, but this little one hardly ever got a morsel.
If birds had no love for each other, as many
people think, these strong little ones would not
have cared if their brother did starve; but what
did the lady see? She says that two of the
strong young swallows came close up to their
weak brother, one on each side. They put their
beaks under his breast and lifted him up on to
his legs, and then crowded so close against him
that their little bodies propped him up, and held
him there; so that he had his chance of being
fed as well as they.
Many times birds have been seen who were
blind or old, or who had a wing or a leg broken,
or were in some way hurt so that they could not
take care of themselves, and who were being
waited upon by other birds, fed, and led to the
water to drink and bathe.
76 THE BIRD GROWN UP
Birds have been found caught in the lining of
a nest, so that they were held there and could
not go for food. They had been there for
weeks, and would have starved to death if they
had not been fed. Yet they were so well taken
care of by other birds that they were strong and
able to fly.
In one case, where the nest was in a tree trunk,
the hole in the trunk had grown up, so that
when big enough to fly, they could not get out,
and they had been there for months. Yet when
a man cut open the trunk and let them out, they
were well and lively, proving that they had been
fed by friends outside all that time.
I could tell you many true stories of the kind
care of birds for each other, and for baby birds
who had lost their parents, or been stolen away
from them.
A gentleman in Massachusetts told me that
when he was a boy he saw a small flock of che-
winks who came about a house where food was
put out for birds. They came every day, and he
soon saw that one was bigger than the rest, and
that he never tried to pick up anything for him-
self, but all the others fed him.
One day he was cruel enough to throw a stone
at the bird who was so well taken care of, and
when he took up his victim, he found that the
HIS KINDNESS TO OTHERS 77
upper and lower parts of his bill were crossed,
so that he could not pick up anything from the
ground, where chewinks find their food. He
had been born thus deformed, and if he had not
been fed every day by his friends he must have
starved to death. Yet so well had he been cared
for that he was better grown than any of the
others.
XIX
HIS AFFECTIONS
I AM sure I need not say that father and
mother birds love their little ones.
So much does the mother love her nestlings
that she is often willing to die for them. Orioles
and chickadees will let themselves be caught in
the hand of one who has taken their young,
rather than desert them.
Some birds live in our chimneys, generally in
a flue that is not in use, and are called chimney
swifts. If a chimney takes fire the mother swift
tries hard to get her little ones out, but if they
cannot fly, she has been seen to fly into the fire
herself, and die witl^ them.
Robins have been found frozen to death on
their nest. They could easily have saved them-
selves, but they would not leave their young ones
to perish. A ground bird has been known to sit
on her nest during a freezing storm, till she died,
rather than go and leave her little ones to suffer.
Once when a young cedar-bird was caught
HIS AFFECTIONS 79
and carried off, the father followed it for miles,
crying and showing so much distress that the
man who had stolen it was sorry for him, and
let the little one go.
Every one who has watched them knows that
birds love their mates. A man once shot a sea
bird, when her mate came about him, crying
and showing his grief as well as if he could
speak.
I could easily fill a book with stories to prove
that birds are loving to their mates and young,
and all of them true.
It does not seem strange that birds are fond
of their own, but they love others also. And
not only other birds, but even animals like cats,
dogs, and horses sometimes.
I once had an English goldfinch in the house.
He was a little fellow, not so big as a canary,
and he was very fond of another bird in the
room. This was a scarlet tanager, who was
much larger than himself.
The small bird showed^his love for his red
friend, just as people show love, by staying
close to him, singing to him, and driving away
any bird who came too near.
A lady once told me this story showing the
love of a pigeon for a cat. The cat was fond
of lying on the broad window sill. When the
80 THE BIRD GROWN UP
pigeon saw her there, he would fly down, and
alight beside her. Then he would press up
close to her, and rub against her fur, as if glad
to see her, and the cat seemed to enjoy it as
much as the bird.
Often a bird who is tamed loves his human
friends. A man had a crow who was very fond
of him. He had reared the bird from the nest
and never shut him up, but let him fly about
wherever he chose.
One day he was out in a sudden rain, and his
feathers got wet, so that he could not fly well.
Then a boy caught him, and carried him seven
miles away. He clipped one wing, so that the
crow could not fly, and kept .him shut in the
house all winter. In the spring, the first time he
could get out, the bird started for his old home.
He could not fly, but he walked the seven
miles, through mud and wet, and came home so
tired that he was almost dead. When his mas-
ter saw him coming he went to meet him, took
him up and petted him, and talked to him.
The poor fellow was so happy it seemed as if
he could not live. But he was taken care of,
and got well, and lived many years. But never
after that would he leave the place, though
when his new feathers came in he could fly as
well as ever.
HOUSE WREN
HIS AFFECTIONS 81
Canary birds often love their mistresses. I
have heard of one who was so grieved by a harsh
word, that in a few minutes he fell off his perch
dead.
These true stories show us how tender and
loving these little creatures are, and how careful
we should be to treat them gently and kindly.
An interesting and true story is told by a
clergyman in Ohio. It is a habit of wrens to
find a good nesting-place, and then look for a
mate to occupy it. One spring a wren chose a
nice bird-box on his place, and held it ready for
the expected bride. But she did not come, and
a pair of English sparrows took a fancy to the
same house.
Sparrows expect to get what they want, and
are always ready to fight for it, so they gave
battle to the wren. But wrens also will fight
for their own, and this wren held his house
against the enemy for two weeks. Still the
mate did not appear, and finally the lonely bird
lost heart, and let the sparrows set up house-
keeping in his box, though he did not go away.
When the young sparrows were hatched, and
feeding began, the wren suddenly became
friendly. He hunted up small green worms,
probably such as are good for wrenlings, and
offered them to the young sparrows.
82 THE BIRD GROWN UP
Nestlings are never known to refuse anything
to eat, and wren food seemed to suit the sparrows,
for they soon outgrew the nursery.
All summer this queer thing went on. The
sparrows reared three or four broods, and the
wren did his full share of the work, — and not
only of feeding the young, but of repairing and
rebuilding the nest for each fresh brood.
XX
HIS INTELLIGENCE
BEFORE people knew very much about the
ways of birds, it was thought that they did not
have to be taught anything, but that they knew
everything they needed to know, as soon as they
were born. That is, they were said to act from
instinct alone, and not at all from reason, as we
do.
Another notion that people had was that birds
of a kind were just alike ; that they looked ex-
actly like each other, all acted in the same way,
and all sang the same song.
But since we have begun to study birds more
closely, we find these things are not true. We
find that birds learn things by being taught, as
we do. Also, they find out how to do things
themselves, and they are not all alike, as so many
machines.
More than this, we see that they do not look
nor act exactly like each other. For when we
know one robin or one oriole well, we can tell
84 THE BIRD GROWN UP
him from any other robin or oriole. And, as I
said before, no two of a kind sing precisely the
same song.
A bird shows his intelligence in many ways.
One is by the way he acts when he cannot do as
he is used to doing. A robin I know of wished
to build a nest, but could not find mud to put
into it, for it was a very dry time, and there
were no streams near. Now a robin's nest must
have mud, and the bird seemed puzzled for
a while. But at last she thought of a way to
get it.
She went to a bathing-dish that the people of
the house kept filled with water for the birds,
jumped into it, and got her legs very wet.
Then she flew to the road, and tramped around
in the dust and dirt.
In a short time her legs had a good coating
of mud, which she carefully picked off with her
bill, and took to the nest she was building.
This she did a great many times, and the
lady who told me of it watched her till she had
as much mud as she needed.
A bird often shows sense by the way she
repairs a nest that has been thrown out of place.
Sometimes she will add a new stay, tying the
nest to a stronger limb. One sparrow, whose
nest broke loose, put so many stays to the
HIS INTELLIGENCE 85
branch above that they made a little roof like a
tent over it.
Another way a bird shows reason is in seeing
the advantage of a new place. A pair of swal-
lows lived far out in the West, hundreds of
miles from any house. They had no doubt
always nested in a cave, or a hole in a tree. But
one day they found a house put up. It was a
mere shed, to be used as a blacksmith shop, by a
party of men who were looking over the country.
At once the birds saw how nice it would be
to have a roof over their heads. And although
there was a big fire, and the noise of men at
work, they * built the nest over the anvil, and
reared the family in safety.
Woodpeckers have shown that they can learn.
Some of them have found an easier way to get
food than to dig through the bark of trees
for it.
The flicker, or golden-winged woodpecker,
has learned that ants and* other insects are good
to eat, and now he does not think of digging
into bark any more.
The red-headed woodpecker has learned to
catch flies like a common flycatcher. The yellow*-
bellied, or sapsucker, cuts holes in the trees, and
eats the insects that come to feed on the sweet
sap that drips from them.
86 THE BIRD GROWN UP
Woodpeckers have also learned to cut a hole
through a board and nest inside a building, in-
stead of drilling a deep hole in the trunk of a
tree for a nest.
Birds show intelligence when they draw us
away from their young ones, by acting as if
they were hurt and not able to fly. I have al-
ready spoken about that.
Sometimes when a bird is caught he will lie
quiet send pretend to be dead. But all the time
he is looking out for a chance to fly away.
A man who watched birds very closely once
saw an interesting instance of their intelligence.
They were two of the birds who get their food
on the seashore by turning over stones and eat-
ing the creatures hidden under them. They
had found a big dead fish thrown up on the
beach and half buried in sand. Under such a
fish they were sure they should find food, so
they went to work to turn it over. The fish
was three and a half feet long, and the birds
were about as big as our sandpipers. So it was
a hard thing to do.
First they pushed against it with their beaks
and breast, but it did not move. Then they
went around the other side and scratched away
a good deal of sand from under the fish, and
went back and tried again to turn it over. Still
it was too heavy to stir.
HIS INTELLIGENCE 87
Again they ran around the other side, scraped
away more sand, and tried it once more. They
kept up this work for half an' hour, but did not
succeed in stirring the great fish.
At this time the man, who had hidden himself
to watch them, saw another bird coming. The
two little workers greeted him with joyful cries,
to which he replied in the same tones. Then
all three set to work on the heavy fish. They
dug more sand out from the lower side, and
then pushed against the upper side with all their
strength. They lifted it a few inches, but it
fell back.
At last, after resting a few minutes, without
moving from their places, they worked it in this
way. They rested their breasts on the sand,
put their beaks under, and lifted. When the
fish was raised several inches, they held it with
their beaks and pushed their breasts against it,
when over it went, down the little pitch they
had made.
They could not stop, and they went with it,
but at once came back and found enough to pay
them for their hard work.
One who really watches birds to see what
they are doing will see many actions that show
intelligence and reason.
HOW HE IS MADE
92 HOW HE IS MADE
He can sing while he is working very hard to
fly upward. If you will try to sing while run-
ning up a hill, you will see how hard it is to do
that.
A bird's head is joined to his neck at one place,
something like a hinge. Other animals, like dogs
and cats, have two hinges, or places of joining.
That is why a bird is able to turn his head
around so far that he can look down his own
back. No other creature can do so.
Because of this, he is able to dress every
feather on his body, and to sleep with his head
laid back on his shoulder.
Nearly all birds have some of their bones hol-
low, and air -sacs, or pockets, under the skin.
These sacs they can fill with air and make them-
selves light, so that those who live in the water
cannot sink, but float like a cork.
Men who study the way birds are made do
not yet know all the uses of the hollow bones
and air-sacs. That is one of the things left for
you young folk to find out.
Birds who get their food in marshes, or the
edge of the water, have long legs for wading.
They have also long necks, so they can pick up
food from the ground.
Birds who swim have webs between the toes,
that turn their feet into paddles.
CHEWINK, OR TOWHEE
HIS BODY 93
Birds have very large gullets. In many cases
the gullet leads into a place called the crop, where
food is kept before it goes into the stomach.
Sometimes the food is made soft in the crop, and
then fed to the young ones, as I told you.
Birds have no teeth, yet they eat hard seeds,
like acorns and grains of corn. To break these
up, and get them ready for the stomach, they
have a gizzard, which is a sort of grinding-mill.
And to help in the work of grinding they swal-
low small stones.
One of the wonderful things about birds is the
height at which they can live, and not only live,
but fly. A man cannot go higher than twenty-
two or twenty-three thousand feet, while moving
about or exercising, because the air is so rare he
cannot breathe. The highest a man was ever
known to go and live, it is said, was less than
thirty thousand feet, -and that was in a balloon,
where he did not move.
But birds go a good deal higher than this,
and can fly — which is violent exercise — at
that height. It is thought by some that the
thinness of the air may be the cause of the great
speed with which birds fly in that region. But
there is still much to be found out about this.
Besides the marvels of flight, birds have other
powers almost as strange. Many of them can fly
94: HOW HE IS MADE
under water with perfect ease, and, more than
that, they can, when they wish, sink slowly till
nothing is left above water but their beaks, to
breathe. And they can stay so as long as they
choose, keeping still in one spot, without moving.
A cormorant in a zoological garden, who
wanted to catch some of the swallows skim-
ming over the pond, sank his body till only his
head was out, and held himself there perfectly
still.
Birds who are hunted, as geese, have been
known to save their lives in that way, by sink-
ing their body under water, leaving in sight only
the tip of the bill, which is so small it is not
readily seen.
To do such things, birds must be able to make
their bodies heavy when they choose, as well as
light, which we know they are able to do by fill-
ing their air-sacs with air.
There are many things still to be found out
about the powers of birds.
XXII
HIS BEAK AND TONGUE
How does a bird get along without a hand ?
He has to prepare food ; to keep his feathers in
order ; to build the nest ; to
feed and take care of the young;
and sometimes to fight other
birds. How can all this be
done without a hand ?
The beak is the only thing
most birds have in place of a hand, and it is
wonderful to see how many things they can do
with it.
Orioles use it as a needle, in making the nest.
With it they weave strips of soft bark or strings,
back and forth, in and out, to make the firm
pocket they hang on the
elm-tree (see Fig. 1).
A woodpecker's beak is
a chisel or pick, to cut a
J. 2. deep hole in a tree trunk
Bill of Woodpecker. f or a nest (Fig. 2). With
96
HOW HE IS MADE
FIG. 3.
Bill of Swal-
low.
a nuthatch it is a hammer, to crack the nut he
has wedged into a crevice in the bark so tightly
it cannot slip.
Some birds use the beak to dig in the ground,
as the bank swallows, while the barn
swallows make it a trowel, to carry
and plaster mud (Fig. 3). All of
them use it as a hand to feed them-
selves, and a brush and comb to dress
their feathers.
Birds need to use the beak a good
deal, because in most cases it grows like our
finger-nails. If they did not keep it worn off,
it would grow so long as to trouble them.
Sometimes when a bird lives in a cage and does
not use his bill, it grows so long that he can
hardly pick up his
food.
" The woodcock's
long beak is sensitive,
so that he can feel the
worms, deep in the
mud where they live.
Many waders and
swimmers have beaks
soft like leather.
^ You can tell by the shape of the beak how a
bird lives, and what he eats. The strong, hooked
FIG. 4.
Bill of Hawk.
HIS BEAK AND TONGUE 97
beak of a hawk shows that he catches live ani-
mals to eat (Fig. 4). The long, narrow, sharp
bill of a heron shows that he spears his prey,
often under water.
The sharp-pointed bill of a warbler is to pick
tiny insects and eggs out of blos-
soms, and from under leaves. The
sharp-edged bill of a sparrow (Fig.
5) is to break open the hard shells
of seeds. gm of Sparrow>
The curious beak of a crossbill
(Fig. 6) is to pick seeds out of pine
cones.
A duck's wide beak, with a
strainer at the edge, is to let water .
. « . Bill of Crossbill.
out while keeping tood in. A
spoon-shaped bill is to scoop up food, and a thin,
flat one is to poke into narrow cracks.
Both parts of the beak, which take the place
of our jaws, are called mandibles, upper and
lower. Both of them can be moved, while we
can move only our lower jaw.
Birds' tongues are as curious as their beaks.
To all birds they take the place of a finger, as
the beak takes the place of a hand, and they
differ as much as the beaks from each other.
Insect eggs are very small, and often packed
snugly into cracks and corners, and the birds
98 HOW HE IS MADE
who eat them have a brush on the tip of the
tongue, which brushes an egg out of its hiding-
place very easily.
The nuthatch picks his small grubs out of
crevices in bark with the four-tined fork at the
end of his tongue.
A hummingbird's tongue can be used as a
tube, to draw up the honey of flowers,
or perhaps as a pair of tweezers, to pick
out the tiny spiders that live there.
A woodpecker has barbs on his
tongue, to spear insects hidden under
the bark, as shown by Mr. Lucas (Fig.
7). It is said to be sticky also, to hold
small ones, like ants.
The tongues of birds are of many
shapes, but each one is fitted to its
owner's way of getting a living.
FIG. 7. Because the tongue is often horny,
rjF'P °fe and they eat strange things, it is some-
of Downy times thought that birds have little sense
°^ taste- But we cannot be sure of this,
and we know they all have notions
about their food.
Dr. Ward tells a story of some geese, which
shows that they do not lack that sense. While
sailing upon a river he noticed on the bank
some geese, feeding on the rinds of watermelon,
HIS BEAK AND TONGUE 99
which they picked out of the garbage dumped
there.
The rind, when taken out of the mass, was
none too clean, being covered with mud and
other dirt. When a goose found a piece to suit
him, he took it up, carried it to the edge, and
dropped it into the shallow water. Then he
stood and watched it till the running stream
washed it clean, when he stepped into the water
and quickly ate off the part he wanted.
xxm
HIS EYES AND EARS
BIRDS' eyes are very different from ours. To
begin with, they are round. Then they are
placed one on each side of the head, so that
they can look two ways at once. Owls are the
only birds who have eyes turned forward like
ours.
Birds' eyes also are of many colors. Besides
our common black, brown, blue, and gray, birds
have light and dark green, bright red, pale and
deep yellow and orange, even white.
They have, like us, two eyelids. But while
we use the upper one to close our eyes, most
birds use the lower one. They have also a third
eyelid, inside the others, a thin, white sort of
skin, that moves across the eye from side to side,
and is called the " nictitating membrane."
There are other ways in which birds' eyes
differ from ours. The men who try to know
exactly how birds are made have found out that
birds' eyes make everything look much larger
REDSTARTS (FEMALE ON NEST;
HIS EYES AND EARS 101
than it is, in other words, they are like magni-
fying glasses, or microscopes, so that a tiny in-
sect egg, that we can hardly see, looks very big
to a warbler.
Stranger still, when a bird is far off, his eyes
are like telescopes. That is, when a hawk is
soaring about far above the earth, he can see a
mouse on the ground as well as if he had a tele-
scope to look through. And the gulls who sail
about over the shore, and follow steamers on sea
voyages, can see small fish and tiny bits of
bread thrown out by the passengers, even when
they are lost to us in the foam made by the
vessel.
Mr. Frank Bolles had a pet barred owl, and
used to take him out with him. He says that
the bird's sight was wonderful, better than his
own aided by a strong glass. Many times the
bird would see and watch a hawk so far off that
Mr. Bolles with his glass could not see him until
he came ne*arer, and then he looked no bigger
than a dot against the sky.
There is a story told of some small birds mi-
grating over the island of Heligoland, suddenly
coming down in a flock on to a man's garden,
and beginning at once to work among the
leaves as if they were feeding.
The owner of the garden knew they did not
102 HOW HE IS MADE
eat leaves, so he shot a few and found them
stuffed with small caterpillars. Then he looked
at the plants and found many more caterpillars,
each in the curled-up end of a leaf. The in-
sects could not be seen, yet the birds, while fly-
ino- over, no doubt saw the curled leaves and
e '
knew they were there.
Such eyes must be of great use in helping
birds to find their food, and to avoid their ene-
mies. But think what giants we must look to
them ! It is no wonder they are afraid of us.
Perhaps even more useful to a bird than his
eyes are his ears, though they are so nicely cov-
ered up by the feathers that we cannot see
them. The tufts of feathers that stand up on
some owls' heads, and are called ears, are not
ears at all, but merely decorations, like the
crests of some birds and the long tail feathers of
others.
But because they cannot be seen, we must not
think birds have no ears ; they have very good
ones indeed. They can hear much better than
we can.
Every one has seen a robin run over the grass
and turn his head one side to listen. It is sup-
posed that he hears the earthworm move under
the sod, and if he is watched, he will often be
seen to pull the worm from that very spot.
HIS EYES AND EARS 103
When a woodpecker taps on a tree trunk and
turns his head to listen, it is thought that he
hears the grub stir under the bark, for when he
begins to cut the bark away, he is pretty sure to
find and draw it out.
Birds that are much hunted by men, like
ducks and geese, get to be very knowing, and
show how wonderful is their hearing. They
can tell the difference between a noise made by
an animal and that made by a man. A deer or
any animal may crash through the bushes, and
they pay no attention to it, but if a man makes
the least sound they are off in an instant.
A bird's ears are behind the eyes, and a little
below them. They are covered by delicate fea-
thers that hide them from sight. When the
bird raises these feathers — perhaps to hear bet-
ter — they look like tiny ear muffs.
Owls have little flaps of skin with which they
can shut up their ears when they wish to be
quiet. This must be very useful to birds who
prefer to sleep during the day, when nearly
everybody else is awake and making a noise.
Many of us who live in cities would like to be
able to close our ears sometimes.
Mr. Bolles tells a story about the sharp hear-
ing of a heron. The bird was on a tree dress-
ing his plumage, and he was hidden in some
bushes and could not be seen.
104 HOW HE IS MADE
Mr. Bolles made all sorts of noises to start up
the heron and make him fly. First he imitated
animal sounds. He quacked, and barked, and
mewed, and brayed, and the bird looked inter-
ested, but not at all alarmed. Then he whistled
and sang, and at last talked plainly, but the
bird only looked over his way, as if to see what
new sort of beast was hidden there.
No noise that he could make startled the
heron in the least, until a twig snapped under
his foot, when the bird was off like a shot.
That sound he well knew was made by his most
feared enemy, man.
XXIV
HIS FEET AND LEGS
A BIRD always stands on his toes, not on his
whole foot, as we do. The long slim part that
we call the leg is really the foot, and the joint
we see nearly up to the bird's body is the bird's
heel. But in this book we will
speak of it in the common way,
calling the toes the foot, and the
part up to the joint the leg.
People all over the world have
the same kind of feet
and the same number
of toes ; but with birds
it is not so. Most of
them have four toes
(Fig. 8), but some
have only three, and a few have no more than
two.
In the use of the feet there is still more
variety. There are, as Dr. Coues divides them,
three kinds of feet among birds : —
FIG. 8.
Foot of Blackbird.
106 HOW HE IS MADE
First, a foot that can be used like a hand to
clasp a perch, a " perching foot."
Second, one that is good to use as a foot, but
not at all like a hand, called a "scratching
foot."
Third, one that is like neither hand nor foot,
but a paddle, called a " swimming foot."
The birds who have the first kind, the "perch-
ing foot," have usually three toes
turned forward and one turned
back. They can grasp a branch
or a twig as tightly as if with a
hand, as all our common little
birds do. And the large birds
of prey, such as hawks and owls
(Fig. 9), hold in them live mice
and squirrels and the other little
animals they eat.
Some birds with perching feet have the toes
placed another way. Woodpeckers
have two turned forward and two
turned back, so that they can hold bet-
ter to a tree trunk (Fig. 10).
A strange thing about the perching
toes is the way they are made to hold
on, so that the birds can sleep on a
perch, and not fall. Inside the toes are tendons,
something like cords, which act like elastic rub*
LESSER YELLOWLEGS
HIS FEET AND LEGS 107
ber. When a bird bends his leg, the toes are
drawn up and held so. When he is sitting on a
perch, he could not fall off if he wanted to.
Birds who have the (t scratching foot," the
second kind, mostly go about on the ground, or
wade in the water. They do not usually sleep
on perches, but sleep standing, or crouch on the
ground. In the arctic regions, where there is a
great deal of snow, some birds with scratching
feet, who have to go about in it, have in winter
what has been called " snowshoes," because il
enables them to walk on the snow with ease.
It is a web-like growth on the side of each toe,
which serves the same purpose with birds that
snowshoes do with men, keeps them from sink-
ing into the snow.
Birds who have the " swimming foot," the
third kind, have the toes made into a paddle
by webs stretched between them. They are the
water birds, — ducks, geese, gulls, and others.
The toes of all birds have long, sharp claws,
not at all like our toe-nails. In the whip-poor-
will and the nighthawk, one edge of the middle
claw has teeth like a comb.
The long slim part above the toes, what we
call the leg, is named in the books the " tarsus."
The tarsus is generally bare, with a leathery
skin ; but in some hawks and owls it is covered
108 HOW HE IS MADE
•with feathers. Birds who live away up in the
cold have feathers down on to the toes.
On looking carefully at one of these bare
legs, it will be seen that it is not smooth like a
lead pencil. It is marked in a sort of pattern.
Different species of birds show different patterns.
Some look like the shingles on a roof ; others
like little squares or plates ; and some are finer,
like scales on a tiny fish.
These marks help in arranging birds in the
books. That is, all who have the same pattern
are said to be related.
The legs of birds are not all of the same
length for their size. Some who never go about
on the ground, like hummingbirds, swallows,
and swifts, have very short legs. Birds who
walk and hop on the ground have them longer,
and birds who wade in the water have the long-
est of all.
XXV
HIS WINGS AND TAIL
A BIRD'S wing does not look much like our
arm and hand, yet the bones show that they are
the same. The bird has a shoulder, elbow, and
wrist, as we have. He even has fingers, though
they are so covered up by feathers that one would
never know it. He has not so many fingers as
we have, and they are not movable like ours.
A bird's wing is a wonderful flying-machine,
which men have been trying to imitate these
many years. It is made of long stiff feathers,
which fold down smoothly over one another at
his side when he is resting, but can spread in an
instant into a broad fan, to beat the air and
carry him away.
One would not think that feathers could have
so much power ; but when the wing is spread, the
barbs of the feathers hook together with tiny
hooks, so small a microscope is needed to see
them ; and that, together with the edges lapping
over each other, makes them almost like one
solid surface.
110
HOW HE IS MADE
Wings are not alike in shape. The wing of
a swallow is long and narrow, while that of a
hen or grouse is short and round. We can tell
by the shape of a wing how a bird flies.
A long, narrow, pointed wing shows that the
FIG. 11.
Wing of Swift.
bird has an easy, skimming flight, — either he
flies great distances, or spends hours at a time
on wing (Fig. 11).
The short round wing (Fig. 12) shows that
a bird has a strong flight for short distances.
These wings are
found mostly on
rather heavy birds,
like grouse.
The longest wings
are seen on water
birds, such as thr
petrel and the frigate-bird. The shortest, also.
are found among water birds, those who swim
more than they fly, as the auks.
All the feathers of the wing are named, and
FIG. 12.
Wing of Sparrow.
HIS WINGS AND TAIL
111
it will be well to remember that the long stiff
quills are called remiges or "rowers." These are
firmly rooted in the flesh, and are the hardest
to pull out. They are the most important to
the safety of the bird.
Birds have also another use for their wings.
They are a strong weapon to defend themselves,
or to fight others. A
large
severe
wing,
bird can give a
blow with his
and when
pi-
geons fight, it is said
they hold up one wing
to protect themselves
while they strike at the
enemy with the other.
Sometimes wings
serve as musical instru-
ments. Woodcocks
make whistling sounds
with their wings as they
fly, and mourning doves
softly murmuring ones. Ruffed grouse produce
with theirs a rolling drum-like effect, and other?
rattle theirs like castanets.
If wings are not used, they slowly get to be
smaller and weaker, each generation having them
more and more useless, till after a while they are
FIG. 13.'
TaU of Ruffed Grouse.
112
HOW HE IS MADE
of no use whatever, and the birds cannot fly
at all. This has happened, it is supposed, to
the ostrich family and to some
birds living in the sea.
The tail of a bird is formed of
an equal number of feathers in
pairs, most often twelve. When
spread they are the shape of a
fan (Fig. 13), and when closed they lie over
each other with the middle pair on top.
The tail feathers are not always of the same
length, and that makes a difference in the shape
of the end. Sometimes they are even (like Fig.
FIG. 15.
TaU of Swallow-tailed Kite.
14), when the tail is said to be "square."
Sometimes the middle feathers are a little longer
than the outside ones, and then it is " rounded "
HIS WINGS AND TAIL 113
or " pointed." If the outside feathers are long-
est, the tail is " forked " (Fig. 15).
The feathers of the tail are called rectrices,
or " rudders," because they are supposed to be
used to steer, or direct the bird's course in fly-
ing. But the tail is used also as a brake to
check the speed in alighting.
The tail is used more than any other organ
to express the emotions.
Some birds, like the cat-
bird and thrasher, keep it
moving nearly all the time,
jerking it this way and that,
and tossing it upward.
In woodpeckers and swifts the tail feathers
are not soft at the end like others, but the stems
or shafts project beyond the feathery part, and
are stiff like the tail of a sapsucker (Fig. 16)
or sharp like this of the chimney swift (Fig.
17). These birds use the tail as
a prop to hold them against the
tree trunk or chimney wall, and
to help them in climbing.
Tail feathers are not so
strongly rooted as wing feathers,
and are easily pulled out. Sometimes, when a
man or boy tries to catch a bird by the tail, the
bird will escape, leaving the tail in his hand.
XXVI
HIS DRESS
A BIRD'S whole dress is made of feathers, but
the feathers are not all alike. There are, indeed,
several kinds of feathers, and four of them are
found on every bird. There are flight feathers,
clothing feathers, downy feathers, thread feathers,
and powder-down feathers.
Feathers of all kinds are made in the same
way. All have, first, a quill, the horny part next
to the body ; second, a shaft, the white part on
which the barbs grow ; third, the barbs, which
grow out on each side of the shaft, and together
are called the vane ; fourth, the barbules, or little
barbs, growing out of the barbs ; and last, the
barbicels, which grow on the barbules, and on
the wings have the tiny hooks which hold them
together.
But though feathers are made on the same
pattern, they look very different. The wing and
tail feathers are stiff and strong, and are called
flight feathers, but those on the breast and body
CATBIRD
HIS DRESS 115
are called soft, and cling closely to keep the bird
warm and dry. These are called the clothing
feathers, because they clothe the bird.
Down feathers, which are almost always hid-
den under the clothing feathers, are, like their
name, downy, and answer to our under-clothes.
Thread feathers grow among the clothing
feathers, and are almost like hairs. It is these
that the cook singes off the fowls.
Kingfishers who dive, and ducks who spend
much time on the water, have very thick down
under the feathers — like suits of very warm
under-clothes — which keeps the water away
from their bodies. Thus they can dive, or sit on
the water hours at a time, and not feel wet at all.
Powder-down feathers grow on some herons
and cockatoos. They are called by that name
because the tip ends are continually breaking off
like white dust. Nobody knows their use.
Different from all these are the feathers called
plumes, like the long, soft ostrich plumes we all
know ; the dainty little ones that stand straight
up, and look as if the wind would blow them
away ; the long, showy feathers that the peacock
spreads with so much pride, or even the pretty,
drooping ones in the cock's tail.
These feathers are of no use for flight or for
warmth, they rather hinder than help. They are
116 HOW HE IS MADE
for ornament, and there are many kinds among
birds, all exquisitely beautiful. Nature has given
to birds a more wonderful dress than to any
other living creature.
It is with his feathers that a bird expresses his
:2eelings. In anger he fluffs them out till he
looks twice as big as usual ; we have all seen a
hen bristle up when a dog comes near her brood.
Nervousness or excitement is shown by jerk-
ing the wings and tail, and if a bird wishes to
escape notice, he can make his plumage a perfect
disguise. Mr. Bolles's pet owl would stretch
himself up long and slim, with feathers hugging
his body, when he looked so much like a broken
branch of a tree that Mr. Bolles could hardly
see him. And another owl that I heard of, when
he was on the ground, would flatten himself and
spread his plumage around, so that the eye could
scarcely separate him from the dead leaves about
him.
No one takes better care of his dress than a
bird, and that is why it looks well for a year.
Every day, with most birds, it is washed and care-
fully dried, each feather being passed through
the bill, and the whole thoroughly shaken out.
At night one may often see robins and catbirds
before going to bed, dressing their plumage
and shaking off the day's dust.
HIS DRESS 117
Besides washing and drying the feathers, birds
need oil to keep them in best condition. For
this purpose they have a little " oil jug," a small
gland over the tail, out of which, with the bill,
they can squeeze a drop of oil. We often see
ducks and geese oiling their feathers before a
rain.
Water birds, who need a great deal of oil to
keep out the wet, have the oil jug very large.
Birds seem to know perfectly well the beauty
of their plumage. Not only do they try to show
it off, as the peacock when he spreads his tail,
but they seem to fe'el shame when their feathers
are injured or soiled. One white feather coming
in where it does not belong will make a bird
very unhappy. He will work and tug at it to
pull it out, and often make himself actually ill
over the trouble. I had a captive bird who
died, I think, from worry and work over a wing
feather which persisted in coming in white, and
which he insisted on pulling out every time.
xxvn
DIFFERENT COLORED SUITS
A BIRD does not always wear the same colored
dress, as I said in the chapter on moulting. A
goldfinch, who through the summer wears a gay
yellow coat, comes out in the fall in plain olive
and black; and the scarlet tanager, who flour-
ishes in the most brilliant red, changes to a quiet
green in winter. Besides these, some birds wear
at one season a spotted coat, and come out after-
wards in one of plain colors.
Most of them change by moulting, as I ex-
plained, the old feathers dropping out and new
ones of another color coming in ; or, to speak
exactly, the new ones growing out and pushing
the old ones off on their tips. But some change
color without moulting. All birds moult com-
pletely in the autumn, many moult partially in
the spring, and some, as I said, change without
moulting.
This last change of color is made partly by
fading, and partly by breaking off the tips of the
DIFFERENT COLORED SUITS 119
feathers, or what is called " abrasion." This is a
curious process. I told you something about it
in chapter vii. Certain feathers have edges dif-
ferent in color from the rest ; as, for example,
a black feather with tips of yellow. While the
feathers are new and perfect, as they He over
each other like shingles on a roof, only the edges
show, and these being yellow, the bird appears
to be dressed in yellow. But the yellow tips are
not so strong as the rest, and they break or wear
off, or are pulled off in the spring. What is
strange, they break exactly where the black
begins. So as soon as the yellow is off, the black
shows, and behold, the yellow bird suddenly
becomes a black bird.
That is the way some birds manage to put on
their spring dress in the fall. The solid color is
the color of the spring, but it is hidden or veiled
by tips of another color for winter.
The meadowlark changes in this way. In the
winter his coat is brownish, or buff. In the
spring these tips are worn or broken off, and he
comes out in yellow and black.
Another change, even more curious, is made
by some birds, who all winter wear white spots,
or light scolloped edges to their feathers, and
in spring the spots are gone.
In these, the white or light parts only break
120 HOW HE IS MADE
off, as sharply as if cut with scissors. They leave
the edges of the feathers notched in queer ways,
but as they lie over each other that does not
show.
Birds in this way can change color without
changing their feathers. While moulting but
once a year, they can show two suits, and by
partially moulting twice, can show three suits.
Another thing about the color of feathers is
interesting. Some colors, such as black, and red,
and brown, are caused by coloring matter in the
feather. But other colors are only an effect of
the way the feather is made, whether it has
ridges on it, or certain minute specks under the
surface, which seem to act as prisms (says Dr.
Newton), and reflect the light in different colors.
For instance, green is always due to some
shade of yellow coloring matter under a surface
full of lengthwise ridges, and other colors are
made in similar ways.
These curious facts have been found out by
that tell-tale little instrument the microscope, and
no doubt it will reveal many more secrets in time.
Color is useful to birds, as well as beautiful.
Its great use is to conceal them from their ene-
mies, and they show that they know this by their
conduct.
When a bird is of the color of dead leaves, or
AMERICAN ROBIN
<?r
>*9-t *fll <*,
DIFFERENT COLORED SUITS 121
the sand, he has only to flatten himself and keep
still, and he is hidden. Such a bird on the nest
•will often let one come close, and even stroke
her, while relying on her color to be unseen. A
sitting ruffed grouse will do so. But if snow
falls, the same bird is very wild, for she knows
she can be seen in the snow.
I have seen a striped bird, — black and white
warbler, — when frightened, flatten himself on a
branch, where he looked so much like the bark
that he could not be seen.
Ground birds are mostly in mottled colors of
the ground. The whip-poor-will, whose habit it
is to rest on a log all day, wears colors that hide
him as well as if he were under the log.
The striking colors on a bird are often hidden
when he is at rest, but show plainly when he
flies. When a flicker stands quietly on a fence
he is all in rather dull colors, but when he flies
he shows a large snow-white spot on his back, so
that as far as one can see him he may be known.
A meadowlark on the ground looks not unlike
a flicker, but when he flies he shows that the
outside feathers of his tail are white. This is as
striking a mark as the white spot on the flicker.
Many birds have such markings, and it is
thought by men who study birds and look for
a use in everything, that such marks serve the
122 HOW HE IS MADE
purpose of " danger signals "or " recognition
marks." That by these birds can know each
other in the dusk, or that the flash of color will
catch the eye, when the bird does not wish to
give a call, but to slip away quietly to avoid
danger, and at the same time to give notice to
other birds to do the same.
HIS RELATIONS WITH US
xxvm
HOW HE WORKS FOR US
MANY times in this book I have spoken of the
great value of the services of birds, in helping us
destroy insects and weeds that injure our crops.
But there is more to be said about it.
From morning till night, almost the whole of
his life, nearly every bird is working for us. He
does not know he is working for us, of course.
He is simply hunting for the food he likes, and
what is good for young birds to eat.
But what he chooses to eat himself, and to
feed the young, consists mostly of creatures that
destroy our fruit and vegetables, caterpillars that
eat the leaves off our trees, worms that get into
our apples and berries, beetles that spoil our
roses and our potatoes, mice that eat our crops,
and all the worms and grubs that gardeners and
farmers are all the time fighting.
As I have already said, some of the birds like
cherries and green peas, and other things we
prefer to keep for ourselves. But we should
126 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
never forget that they have earned, by their
work among the worms, all they can take.
I say this, not merely because I love the birds,
and want to have them live and be happy, but
because it is true. It has been proved true by
scientific men in the service of the United States
government.
These men have had thousands of birds killed
to see what they were eating, and have found
out that nearly all the birds they have exam-
ined — blackbirds, cedar-birds, blue jays, hawks,
owls, even crows — do us more good by the in-
jurious creatures they destroy, than harm by the
fruits and vegetables they eat. To this there
is, among the small birds, but one exception, the
English sparrow, and, of the large ones, only the
two hawks and one owl, mentioned on page 53.
Chickadees like to eat the eggs of canker-
worms ; and for a single meal, one of these tiny
birds will eat two hundred and fifty eggs, and
he will take several meals a day. Now canker-
worms destroy our apples. When they get into
an orchard in force, it looks, as Miss Merriam
says, as if it had been burned over.
Robins, catbirds, and shrikes, and several oth-
ers, like to eat cutworms, which destroy grass
and other plants. As many as three hundred of
them have been found in the stomach of one
BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEES
HOW HE WORKS FOR US 127
robin, of course for one meal. Ants are very
troublesome in many ways, and three thousand
of them have been taken from the stomach of
one flicker.
Rats and mice, ground squirrels and gophers,
make great havoc in our crops, and farmers
spend much time and labor trying to get rid of
them ; but these creatures are. the favorite food
of most hawks and owls.
If the farmer would stop shooting the birds,
and protect them instead, they would do this
work for him, and much better than he can.
But because (as I said in a former chapter) one
or two hawks and owls have a taste for chickens,
he generally kills every hawk and owl he sees,
and for this folly has to spend half his time try-
ing to kill the little animals they would gladly
have eaten.
A great deal of refuse, dead sea creatures,
and other matter, is thrown up on the seashore,
or floats on the water. On this feed the water
birds, — herons, gulls, terns, and others. If this
were not disposed of, it would make us sick.
Indeed, on the shores where so many herons have
been killed, to get their plumes for ladies' hats,
the result has been sickness and death among
the people, as Dr. Gaumer, of Yucatan, told Mr,
Chapman.
128 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
Besides the work they do for us in destroying
animal life, their seed-eating is almost as useful.
As I said, they eat the seeds of weeds that
farmers and gardeners are all the time laboring
to keep down, so that useful plants may have
a chance to grow.
The whole family of finches, sparrows, bunt-
ings, grosbeaks, and all birds with the high,
thick bill, though they eat largely of insects
through the summer, and feed their nestlings on
them, when insects get scarce and weed seeds
are ripe, turn to the latter for food. They eat
the seeds of all kinds of troublesome weeds ; and
as each single seed might produce a plant, we
cannot guess how much they destroy.
Professor Beal, who is at the head of this gov-
ernment inquiry into the food of birds, and who
knows what he is talking about, says that one
species of little bird — the tree sparrow — de-
stroys every year in one of the Western States,
many tons of the seeds of weeds.
There is a curious and interesting fact about
this seed-eating. The regular seed-eaters, the
finches, prefer the seeds of certain weeds, most
of them harmful; these they break up, taking
off the shells, and of course destroying the germ,
making it impossible for them to grow.
But there are many birds who eat berries hav-
HOW HE WORKS FOR US 129
ing in them seeds, such as raspberries, blackber-
ries, and all kinds of wild fruit. These birds do
not crack the seeds ; and, as they are hard, they
do not digest in the stomach, but are dropped
whole, and are ready to grow wherever they
fall.
Thus, while seed-eating birds destroy the weeds
which are hurtful, the fruit-eaters plant the seeds
of berries and fruit which we like. That is why
we find wild berry bushes all over the country.
We have to thank the birds for it.
A great deal more could be said about the
birds' work for us, not only of the robins and
those I have spoken of, but cedar-birds, who
are shot because they take part of our cherries,
blackbirds, because they eat some grain, ori-
oles, because they occasionally take green peas,
and kingbirds, because they have the name of
eating bees, though it has been proved that they
eat only drones, which have no sting and make
no honey.
Let me impress upon you two facts. First,
the stories of the harm done by birds are often
mere guesswork, from careless observation. For
instance, a man seeing a bird going over his
blossoming fruit-trees, at once concludes he is
destroying the fruit, probably shoots him, and
then writes to his favorite paper that a certain
130 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
bird eats fruit buds. Other papers copy it, and
a war against that bird begins in every orchard.
Whereas, the truth is, the bird was preserving
the fruit by picking out the insects that would
have spoiled it. This is no fancy picture ; this
very thing has happened more than once.
And again, whatever is said about the harm
this or that bird does, never forget this second
fact, which I repeat, and which may be relied
upon as perfectly trustworthy. The officers of
the government of the United States, who have
carefully studied the matter and found out posi-
tively, without guesswork, what birds eat, have
declared emphatically that every bird they have
examined does more good by destroying pests,
than harm to our crops, excepting only the bird
we have imported, — the English or house spar
row.
XXIX
HOW TO ATTRACT HIM ABOUT OUR HOMES
BECAUSE birds are so useful to us, as well as
because they are so interesting and so beautiful,
it is delightful to have them come about our
homes. And it is not at all difficult, for they
are easily taught to like us.
In countries where people are gentle, and try
to make birds happy, instead of shooting them
or throwing stones at them, they become very
tame. Mr. Hearn, who has written about Japan,
says that the fearlessness of wild creatures is one
of the most charming things about the remote
parts of Japan, " where tourists with shotguns
have not yet come."
Travelers who visit Norway tell us that birds
are never disturbed there, and they come freely
about the houses. When it is very cold they
even come into the houses for food and warmth,
and no one thinks of frightening them or trying
to catch them.
Even in our own country, Dr. Ridgway told
132 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
me of a bird-lover in Florida who would not let
birds be annoyed on his place. As a result he
had a great many there, and they became very
tame. Cardinal grosbeaks, who are rather shy,
were so tame they would take food from his
hand.
A person living in the country, wishing to
draw the birds about his place, should begin by
protecting it. Cats should not, be allowed to
come near, English sparrows should be kept
down, and boys who shoot or throw stones should
be banished from the vicinity.
Next, trees and shrubs that birds like, for
nesting and for food, should be set out. For
nesting, a very attractive place for the smaller
species is a thick hedge of bushes, the thicker
and closer the better.
Nesting-boxes nailed up in trees please many,
and evergreen trees will draw, some that would
not come otherwise. For food, various berry-
bearing shrubs and trees should be provided,
such as chokecherry, shadberry, mulberry, and
others.
In a town or city, besides shrubs that birds
like, a high fence, with a top that cats cannot
walk on, is desirable, and a readiness to go to
their assistance is soon appreciated.
A friend told me a few days ago of a family
HOW TO ATTRACT HIM ABOUT OUR HOMES 133
of wood thrushes who nested last summer in the
yard of her house in the city of Orange, N. J.
The birds soon found out that some of the fam-
ily would come to drive away strange cats which
came in. After they learned that, when a cat
appeared they would give a peculiar cry, unlike
any other heard from them. On hearing this,
one of the family always hurried out and drove
the enemy away.
If the birds could not get any response from
a call at the kitchen door, they would fly to the
front of the house, perch on the piazza rail, and
call till some one came out. All through nesting-
time they thus called on their friends for protec-
tion, and the delight the family had over the
nest and the friendly birds amply repaid them
for their trouble.
The one great necessity, in both city and
country, is water for drinking and bathing. It
should be in a shallow dish. The rough saucer
of a flower-pot is best, because the bird's feet
do not slip on it, and the edge is broad and round
and easy to perch on.
Next best is an earthen dish, with cleai
pebbles in the bottom, to prevent slipping, whidL
frightens them. Water should never be more
than two inches deep, but should always be clean,
and fresh two or three times a day.
134 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
No food should be offered in summer, be-
cause we want them to get their natural food of
worms and seeds.
In the winter it is different. They should
have food regularly. But once used to having
their wants supplied, they will depend upon it,
and suffer and probably starve, if they are neg-
lected or forgotten. So one should be very
sure he will not get tired of it, before he teaches
them to expect food.
To feed them safely, a shelf must be placed
out of the reach of cats and bad boys. On the
sill of a window is a good place, or the roof of
a piazza, or a little balcony. Breakfast should
be served to them at the same hour every day,
and they will soon know when to come for it.
For food, they will eat any table scraps of
meat, and vegetables, and bread, chopped fine,
and most kinds of grain, broken up, or crushed,
for the smaller birds.
But the thing they all like best of everything
is raw suet, as it comes from the butcher. A
large piece may be wired or nailed in place, so
that it may be picked at and not displaced, or it
may be chopped fine and scattered on the shelf,
like other food. All birds are fond of this.
In winter they need water, and it should then,
also, be fresh.
HOW TO ATTRACT HIM ABOUT OUR HOMES 135
A lady living in southern Ohio, who has for
several years given a breakfast to the birds
every day in winter, told me that her daily
guests last season were hairy and downy wood-
peckers, nuthatches, white and red-breasted, one
young kinglet, a pair of chickadees, tufted tit-
mice, blue jays, juncos, cardinal grosbeaks, Caro-
lina wrens, and sparrows.
This delightful company came regularly for
breakfast, and to pay her, sang nearly through
the season.
In the latitude of New York there are about
forty birds who spend the winter, and of course
there are more as one goes south. In the
Southern States, many of our northern birds
may be studied in the winter.
XXX
HOW TO STUDY HIM
AN attractive thing about bird study is the
fact that there is still so much to be found out.
Men have been studying the dead bird for
many years. All about the body is well known.
The way he is made, the arrangement of his
bones and his organs, are plainly set forth in
the books, in words and pictures.
The shape and colors of his plumage, how
many feathers belong to his wing and tail, his
length, his extent, the shape of his beak and
his foot, — all these facts are to be found in
every Ornithology.
Some of his most easily noted habits, too, are
familiar; where and when he nests, where he
spends his time, and where he goes in the winter,
what he eats, and when he changes his dress.
But really to know the living bird, to make
acquaintance with the individual, to see his fam-
ily life, his manners, his intelligence, his powers,
— this kind of study has hardly begun.
' HOW TO STUDY HIM 137
This almost new and most attractive field is
open to us to-day. It offers a charming study,
with the added interest of discoveries to be
made. Nor is it so hard as most persons think.
In the beginning there are two things to
learn : first, how to study from life ; and second,
how to identify without killing. To study is
simply to observe closely and carefully, and to
report accurately.
Take a little lesson in observing : When you
see a bird do not merely gaze idly at him, but
take note of everything about him. What he
is doing, how he is doing it, and all his points,
his size and shape, his colors and markings.
If he is getting food, as he most often is,
see whether he picks it from the tree trunk or
gathers it from grass tops ; whether he hunts it
among leaves, bores the bark, drops to the
ground, or sails out into the air for it.
Then try to discover what it is — insect or
seed, beetle, grub, or worm — and what he does
with it, — swallow it at once, beat it tp death, or
hold it in his mouth uneaten.
Then notice his manners, — if he stands still,
or jerks his tail or body ; if he flits about the
branches, hovers before a flower, or hammers at
the door of an unlucky grub behind the bark.
Next, does he walk or hop ? does he chatter 01
138 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
keep silent? fly straight, or go bounding in
great waves through the air ? All these things
you must learn to see, and to note down the mo-
ment you do so, so that you will not be uncer-
tain or confused when you take your books to
see who he is.
Then you must take note of his size, and to
do this — as it is hard to judge of inches — it is
well to have in mind a sort of index of size
to which you can compare him. Take the most
common and best-known birds for standards, the
robin, the English sparrow, and one smaller, —
the wren, or the " chebec " (least flycatcher).
When you see a bird, if he is as big as a robin,
enter in your note : " Size, robin." Should he
be a little smaller, yet still larger than your
measure, — the English sparrow, — you can
note it, " Size, robin — ," the minus sign mean-
ing that it is less. If he were larger, you would
put the plus sign : "Size, robin +."
Observe the shape, whether it is slim like an
oriole, or chunky like a chickadee ; also any
peculiarity of plumage, as a crest, specially long
or strangely formed tail feathers; the end of
the tail, whether square, rounded, pointed, or
notched.
Then notice the beak ; its length compared to
the head, its shape and color. If it is high and
HOW TO STUDY HIM
139
FIG. 18.
Canadian Warbler.
thick, like a canary's or spar-
row's, the bird is a seed-
eater ; if long and straight,
like a robin's, he is an in-
sect-eater; if sharp and flat,
opening very wide like a
swallow's, he is a flycatcher.
Lastly, note the plumage,
the general color, then spe-
cial markings, such as bars
on wings or tail, a ring
around the eye (Fig. 18), or
a line over or through the
eye (Fig. 19), white or black
throat (Fig. 20 or 19),
speckled or striped breast
(Fig. 18), or any conspicu-
ous blotch. Every point
must be set down the mo-
ment you notice it. You
cannot trust your memory.
With these full notes, re-
turn to your study and take
your manual to find out his
name, or to identify.
Many persons think that
in order to know a bird, and especially to find
out his name, one must have him in the hand,
FIG. 19.
Black-throated Green
Warbler.
FIG. 20.
White-throated Sparrow.
140 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
count his wing and tail feathers, and measure
his length. Excepting for exact scientific pur-
poses, this is not at all necessary. Almost any
bird in America may be perfectly identified with-
out touching him, indeed, while he is in the
enjoyment of 'his liberty in a tree. For birds
have marked external differences, which are
carefully set down in the books.
The modern manuals, too, are usually fur-
nished with a color key, the use of which is fully
explained in them. With the help of this you
will have little trouble in naming your bird.
Above all, be exact in your knowledge and
do not jump at conclusions. If you see a bird
on a fruit-tree picking about the blossoms, do
not decide offhand that he is spoiling the fruit ;
look closely to see if he is not, instead, clearing
it of worms that would destroy it all. When
you notice a bird in a strawberry bed, do not
instantly conclude that he is after strawberries ;
he does n't care half so much for berries as he
does for insects, and very often he is engaged in
ridding the plants of pests, at the moment that
he is scared off or shot by a careless person, who
does not wait to see whether he is friend or foe.
Although patience and clear eyes alone will
open many delightful secrets of bird life, a good
opera glass will do still more. It will bring you
MEADOWLARK
HOW TO STUDY HIM 141
nearer to the bird without frightening him.
You can see thus much better, not only his
markings, but what he is doing. In a word,
you can be more sure of your facts.
In deciding upon the actions of a bird, never
guess at anything. If you see a pair very busy
about a shrub, you may be sure they have a
nest there, but do not so record it till you have
actually seen the nest. Even then you should
not conclude at once that it belongs to them ;
I have seen birds sit a few moments in nests
which did not belong to them — as if to try
them. You may feel very sure what a bird
means by an action, but you should set down
only what he does. Without this care, your
records will be worthless.
Do not discourage yourself by trying to find
the name of every tiny atom in feathers that you
see ; indeed, little birds flitting about the tree-
tops — mostly warblers — will be hard for you
to identify, and almost impossible to watch. I
advise you to confine your study at first to the
larger and less lively birds, — kingbirds, robins,
thrushes, phoebes, bluebirds, orioles, goldfinches,
and others, all of which you will find near to
houses and easy to study. Do not expect too
much at once, nor give up in despair if you can-
not identify the first bird you see.
142 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
You may be sure that every hour you hon-
estly give to the study will make it more inter-
esting; every hird you learn to know will be
like a new and delightful companion.
You will lose your desire to take life or even
to steal eggs from them ; the country will have
new charms for you ; in fact, a person blessed
with a love of the study of birds or beasts or
insects possesses a lifelong and inexhaustible
source of interest and happiness.
In regard to a manual, there are now so many
to be had, one hardly knows how to select. I
will mention only two or three, which have par-
ticular points of value.
A good book to begin with, for residents of
New England, New York, and the Eastern
Middle States, is Professor Willcox's " Land
Birds of New England " (Lee & Shepard, Bos-
ton. Price 60 cts., by mail).
Although this little book treats of only
ninety birds, they are the most common, and its
value is its simplicity, and the ease with which
its color key enables one to identify the birds it
treats. It introduces a beginner to the larger
works in a most pleasing way.
A good general work for Eastern North
America, thoroughly trustworthy and not too
technical in its use of terms, treating all the
HOW TO STUDY HIM 143
birds of the locality, is Chapman's " Handbook
of the Birds of Eastern North America " (Ap-
pleton, New York. Price $3.00). It has a
color key and a color chart, by which one may
see what is meant by colors named.
Especially attractive to ladies and amateurs,
for its charming accounts of bird life, is Mrs.
Wright's "Birdcraft" (Macmillan, New York.
Price, $3.00). It treats but two hundred spe-
cies, but that includes the birds usually seen in
the New England and Northern Middle States.
It has a color key.
The whole United States is covered by Dr.
Coues's " Key to North American Birds," latest
edition (Estes & Lauriat, Boston. Price $7.50).
It is not quite so easy for the beginner, but it
is untechnical in style, and fully illustrated.
One book deserving mention because of its
value as an aid to teachers is Miss Merriam's
" Birds of Village and Field " (Houghton, Mif-
flin & Co., Boston. Price $2.00). It is ex-
ceptionally rich in facts and statistics relating
to the economic value of birds. It treats nearly
two hundred of the most common birds.
A book intended for identification only is
Professor Apgar's " Birds of the United States "
(American Book Company, New York. Price
$2.00). It is the result of his experience as
144 HIS RELATIONS WITH US
teacher, and has several new features very help-
ful to beginners, such as small cuts at the bot-
tom of pages to explain terms, thus showing
exactly what is meant, for example, by " wing
bars " or " rounded tail." It also gives hints
about the usual locality of a bird, whether creep-
ing over a tree trunk, on the wing, or elsewhere.
It takes particular note of size, having one sec-
tion for birds about the size of an English spar-
row, and so on. The pronunciation of the Latin
names is carefully indicated. There are several
chapters giving descriptions of the external parts
of a bird, and there is a glossary of scientific
terms.
The following list of points to observe in
watching birds has been used to advantage by
classes in bird study. A little familiarity with
this will help one to remember what to look for.
A similar, but fuller and more elaborate, list
has been prepared, and bound up in tablets, to
use in the field. It is for sale by Miss J. A.
Clark, 1322 Twelfth Street, N. W., Washing-
ton, D. C.
POINTS TO OBSERVE
1. Locality — tree : bush : ground.
2. Size — compared to robin : English sparrow.
3. Form — long : short : slender : plump.
4. Beak — high : stout : wide : hooked : long : lobes :
drawn down.
5. Tail — length : shape at end.
6. Legs — long : short : scales.
7. Toes — webbed : how turned : hind claw long.
8. Color — bright : striking : dull : plain.
9. Markings — on head : breast : wing : tail : back.
10. Manners — walk : hop : quiet : active : noisy : silent.
11. Habits — eating seeds : berries : insects : from
ground : tree trunk : leaves.
12. Song — long : short : continuous : broken.
13. Flight — direct: undulating: fluttering: labored.
14. Nest — where placed : shape : materials : eggs.
15. Young — plumage : behavior.
INDEX
AFFECTIONS, 73-82.
Air-sacs, 92,94.
Arrival in spring, 3, 4.
Attraction and protection of birds, 131-
135.
Audubon, John James, 60.
Auks, 110.
Beak, 95-97.
Blackbird, crow, 72.
? Blackbirds, 3, 126, 129.
Bluebird, arrival, 3 ; getting food for
young, 17 ; teaching young to fly, 37,
38 ; feeding, 50.
Bobolink, nest of, 9 ; one of the first
birds to stop singing in summer, 47 ;
the fall migration, 61, 62.
Bob-white (quail), 44, 59.
Body, shape of, 91.
Bolles, Frank, his pet owl, 101, 116;
his story of a heron, 103, 104.
Bones, 92, 94.
Books about birds, 142-144.
Brooding, 13-16.
Buzzard, turkey, 50, 51.
Canary, 20, 57, 81.
Cardinal, 69, 132.
Catbird, food of, 49, 126; jerking the
tail, 113.
v Cedar-bird, feeding young, 19 ; story of
affection for young, 78 ; usefulness to
man, 126, 129.
Chewink, 76, 77.
Chickadee, defending eggs, 11, 12; get-
ting food for young, 18 ; as an eater
of insects' eggs, 68, 126 ; affection for
young, 78.
Color in feathers, 120. See Plumage.
Cormorant, 94.
Crop, 93.
Crossbill, 97.
Crow, punishing a young one, 37 ; sleep-
ing in flocks, 59, 60 ; story of an affec-
tionate, 80 ; usefulness to man, 126.
Down, the first plumage, 15, 21, 22,
115.
Ducks, 97, 115.
Ears, 102-104.
Eggs, beauty of, 11 ; the mother's care,
11, 12 ; incubation and hatching of,
13-15.
Eyes, 100-102.
Feather tracts, 22, 23.
Feathers, their first appearance on the
young bird, 22 ; of the wing, 109-111;
of the tail, 112, 113 ; the various kinds
of, 114, 115 ; expression of emotions
by, 116; the birds' care of the, 116:
117. See Plumage.
Feet, 92, 105-108.
Fish, birds and dead, 86, 87.
r Flicker, method of feeding young, 18 ;
food of, 85, 127 ; color markings, 121.
Flying, 93.
Food, 48-55; in winter, 67-69, 134; in
its relation to the welfare of man,
125-130.
Frigate-bird, 110.
148
IXDEX
Geese, 98, 99.
Goldfinch, American, 14 ; story of canary
* and, 20; change of color, 26; food,
51 ; flocking, 71.
Goldfinch, European, 79.
Grouse, 58, 59, 110.
Grouse, ruffed, 111.
Gullet, 93.
Gulls, 101.
x,/Hawks, food of, 52, 53, 126, 127 ; asleep,
59 ; beaks of, 97 ; eyesight of, IjJi ;
feet of, 106.
Heligoland, 101.
Herons, food of, 53, 127 ; bills of, 97 ;
story of the hearing of a heron, 103,
104 ; usefulness to man, 127.
,, Hummingbird, ruby-throated, absence
of male from nest, 16; method of
feeding young, 18.
Hummingbirds, 15, 98.
Identification, 137-141.
Indigo-bird, 47.
Instinct, 83.
Intelligence, 83-87.
Japan, 131.
, Jay, blue, learning to fly, 31, 32 ; storing
food, 54 ; story of a mischievous, 55,
56 ; usefulness to man, 126.
Kindness of birds to each other, 74-77.
' Kingbird, 14, 129.
Kingfisher, 21, 115.
Language, 43-47.
Legs, 92, 105, 107, 108.
Meadowlark, 45, 119, 121.
Migration, 61-68.
Mockingbird, 45.
Moulting, 25, 26, 118.
Neck, 92.
Nests, situations of, 9 ; materials of, 9,
10; building of, 10; seldom used
more than once, 10, 11.
Nighthawk, 107.
Norway, 131.
Nuthatches, 18, 96, 98.
Observation, 137-141, 145.
Oil, 117.
Oriole, nest of, 9, 95 ; getting food fo*
young, 18 ; teaching young to fly, 33,
34 ; food of, 50 ; affection for young,
78 ; usefulness to man, 129.
Ostrich, 24.
Ostrich, South American, 24.
Owl, barred, 101.
Owls, 35 ; food of, 52, 53, 127 ; ears of,
103 ; feet of,. 106 ; usefulness to man,
126, 127.
Penguin, 72.
Petrel, 110.
Pewee, wood, 47.
Phoebe, 35. ^
Pigeons, 79, 80.
Plumage, the nestling, 22, 2S; colora-
tion of, 23, 24, 27, 28 ; moulting, 25,
26, 118; change of color without
moulting, 26, 27, 118-120; protective
coloration of, 120, 121 ; recognition
marks in, 121, 122.
Protection and attraction of birds, 131-
135.
Quail (bob-white), 44, 59.
Redstart, American, 14.
Regurgitation, 18, 19.
Rhea, 24.
Robin, American, arrival, 3 ; 10, 15, 17,
18, 21 ; plumage of young, 23 ; 34 ;
teaching young to bathe, 38, 39 ; notes
of, 44, 45; food of, 49, 126, 127 ; roost-
ing in flocks, 60 ; devotion to younp.
78 ; story of the intelligence of a, 84 ;
102; usefulness to man, 126, 127, l-'9
Sapsucker, 85 ; tail of , 113.
Shrikes, 126.
Sleeping, 57-60.
Song, 14, 44-47.
Sparrow, chipping, 54.
INDEX
149
Sparrow, English, learning canary's
song, 46; young fed by a wren, 81,
82 ; harmfulness of, 126, 130, 132.
Sparrow, song, arrival, 3 ; nest, 9 ; u>
dividuality in songs, 45 ; 47.
Sparrow, tree, 58, 128.
Sparrow, white-throated, 54.
Sparrows, 84, 97.
Stomach, 93.
Swallow, bank, 96.
Swallow, barn, 71, 96.
Swallow, eave, 71.
Swallows, food of, 17, 35, 50 ; flocking,
62, 71 ; story of young, 75 ; story show-
ing intelligence, 85 ; wings of, 110.
Swift, chimney, sleeping, 59, 60 ; devo-
tion to young, 78 ; tail of, 113.
Tail, 112, 113.
Tanager, scarlet, 79.
Thrasher, 113.
Thrush, wood, 133.
Tongue, 97, 98.
Usefulness of birds to man, 125-130.
Veery, 47.
Vireo, red-eyed, 47.
Warbler, black and white, 121.
Warbler, yellow, 50.
Warblers, 62, 97.
Water, birds in, 94; for drinking and
bathing, 133, 134.
Whip-poor-will, 107, 121.
Wings, 109-112.
Winter, birds in, 66-69.
Woodcock, beak of, 96 ; whistling sound
of wings, 111.
Woodpecker, downy, 50.
Woodpecker, red-headed, 85.
Woodpecker, yellow-bellied, 85.
Woodpeckers, 18, 21 ; teaching young
to feed itself, 35, 36; food of, 50;
storing food, 54, 55; sleeping, 59; 85,
86 ; beaks of, 95 ; tongues of, 98 ; 103;
feet of, 106 ; tails of, 113.
Wren, house, 81, 82.
Young birds, hatching of, 13-15 ; feed-
ing of, 16-20; first plumage of, 21-
23 ; learning to fly ,29-34, 37-39 ; the
mother's anxiety about, 30-32 ; learn-
ing to feed themselves, 34-36, 39;
learning to sing, 36 ; after leaving the
nest, 70-73.
Job Da«e
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