Qi a I

V'

I

I

FOR THE PEOPLE

FOR EDVCATION

FOR SCIENCE

LIBRARY

OF

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM

OF

NATURAL HISTORY

i

(BIRDS AND NATURE

IN NATURAL COLORS

A NEW EDITION

PAGE PLATES OF FORTY-EIGHT COMMON BIRDS BY
COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY

A GUIDE IN THE STUDY OF BIRDS AND THEIR HABITS

VOLUME V

COMPLETE IN FIVE VOLUMES WITH 240 PAGE PLATES IN COLORS.

BEING A SCIENTIFIC AND POPULAR TREATISE ON

FOUR HUNDRED BIRDS OF THE UNITED

STATES AND CANADA

CHICAGO

A. W. MUMFORD. Publisher

536 S. CLARK ST.

COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY A. W. MUMFORD.

IMPEYAN PHEASANT.

(I^iiphophorus impeyanus)

- 5 Life-size.

The Impeyan Pheasant {Lopiwphonts impcyanus)

By I. N. Mitchell

This beautiful hir.l wWwh is noted for tlu- won.Urful color and metallic irides-
cence of the male's plumage, is a native of the higher and colder regions of India.
It is greatly admired hy the natives of India, who have given it the name Monal
or the hird'of gold. The metallic luster of it> ].lumagc is so very marked that some
authorities have been led to give this bird the specific name resi)lendens. The
plumage of the males of nearly all the pheasants is (|uite as strikingly brilliant,
while that of the female is much more somber.

Writing of this pheasant as it is found in its forest home in the Himalayas,
Mr. Wilson savs : "The Monal is found on almost every hill of any elevation,
from the first great ridge above the plains to the limits of forest, and in the interior,
it is the most abundant of our game birds." And another enthusiastic observer
writes : "There are few sights more striking where birds are concerned, than that
of a grand old cock shooting out horizontally from the hillside just below one.
glittering and Hashing in the golden sunlight, a gigantic rainbow-tinted gem. an<l
then dropping stone-like, with closed wings into the abyss below."

When the severe weather of winter sets in, the pheasants descend into the
forests of lower altitudes where the ground is covered with a thick layer of de-
caying leaves. Here tliey find an ample supply of insect food. Though a few of
the older birds remain in higher altitudes throughout the winter, the majority
descend to lower levels, and in the spring again ascend the mountain sides, as the
snow and frost disappear.

'The call of the Monal is a loud, plaintive whistle, which is often heard in
the forest at daybreak or toward evening, and occasionally at all hours of the
day." It is an omnivorous feeder, its food consisting of grains and other seeds,
insects, fleshy roots and succulent herbage. The length of its wings, which are
very short for the size and weight of the bird, shows the Impeyan Pheasant to
possess terrestrial habits. Its flights, though quite rapid, are short, and taken, as
a rule, only when frightened."

The Impeyan Pheasant does not seem to bear a change of climate. Many
attempts to domesticate them have been made in several countries. Lady Impey
was the first person who carried them alive into Europe and there made an unsuc-
cessful attempt to naturalize them. It was in recognition of her efforts that this
pheasant was given both its specific and its common names. The bird of our illus-
tration died near the city of Chicago, while in captivity with a number of

related forms.

The Impeyan is not the only pheasant inhabiting that wonderful country
which is noted ahke for its beautiful birds, its beautiful flowers and for its fero-
cious animals. India also claims the magnificent tragopans or horned pheasants,
of which there are four or five species. The males possess two fleshy growths

771

which He, concealed by feathers, on the crown above the eyes. When these growths
are erected, they resemble two blue horns projecting from the top of the head.

The charms of all these fascinating birds are only fully exhibited during the
breeding season. Words cannot express the beauty of their "nuptial dances" when
they show to the female the resplendent metallic coloring of their plumage, which
varies in tint with every motion of their bodies, and with the ruffling of their
feathers.

Winter Birds

By S. S. M.

It is a great mistake to think we must wait until spring or summer before we
can begin the study of birds.

Besides the owls, of which mention was made last month, there are several
varieties of small birds that are with us the year round. Cold and stormy, indeed,
must be the day if one may not be able to find the energetic little fellow, the White-
Breasted Nuthatch, busy among the barren branches. You may know him by his
slate-blue back, black cap and nape, and white belly. He is much given to hanging
on the sides of trees, head downward. Up the tree he goes, only to whirl round
and come scooting down the other side head foremost. Round and round he goes,
poking his needle-like bill into all the crevices of the bark after insects, their
grubs or their eggs.

He is a much better climber than the Woodpecker, as the latter contents
himself with running up the trees, while the Nuthatch goes either up or down with
equal ease. The tail is short and square and is not used in climbing. While the
bill is not so strong as that of the Woodpeckers, yet it is a very effective instru-
ment in removing insects' eggs and larvae from crevices in the bark, and even in
excavating a nesting hole in some decayed limb. The Nuthatch does not confine
his diet to insects and their larvae, but is very fond of some kinds of nuts. By
either holding the nuts, beech or chestnuts, or seeds of weeds, in his claws, or jam-
ming them into a crack in the bark, he hacks them open. The Nuthatch nests very
early, as early as the middle of April.

Two other winter residents are the Downy and the Hairy Woodpeckers.
These two birds are first cousins, being so nearly alike that one not well acquainted
with them may easily mistake one for the other. The principal point of difference
is in size — the Hairy being about three inches longer than the Downy. Both birds
are black and white spotted, or barred, on the l)ack and head, and almost white
on the belly. They differ only in the markings of the outer tail feathers. In the
Downy these are white, barred with black ; in the Hairy, white without black bars.
These two, like all the three hundred and fifty known species of Woodpecker, have
the strong bill, square on the end like a chisel, with which they gouge the hardest
wood in search of food, or in constructing a nesting place. The tongue is very

772

lonp and strong, and arim-d at the tip with horny barbs, with which they can speak
and extract their food frtjin holes and crannies. The feet liave two toes in front
and two behind, fitted for chnjijing. They ne\er perch, in the trne sense of the
word, as do birds that have three toes in frf)nt and one behind. Tlie tail feathers
are very stitT and stronp^ and are used to brace tlie bird against tlie tree. .\ verv'
curious thing about Woodpeckers is that the root of the tongue is not at the back
of the mouth or bill ; it extends clear round the back part of the head, running over
the top of the head, and ends extending uj) between the eyes. This arrangement
enal)les them to thrust the tongue very far out of the mouth.

Doth these Woodpeckers excavate holes in trees in which they nest, and which
are their Iiomcs during the winter, i'hey seldom use the same hole as a winter
home that they have used as a nesting |)lacc. I have many times observed, late
in the fall, the newly dug hole of the Hairy Woodj)ecker. He invariably chooses
the south side of the tree, or the under side of a limb for his winter home.

These birds may Ixjth be found at all times during the winter. If the weather
is very severe or stormy they do not venture out much. But let the sun shine and
you will hear them hammering away on some limb, and hear their "Quip, sher,
cher !"' as they dive with their undulating wave-like motion through the air.

We must not forget our cheery little friend, the Chickadee. Stormy weather
has no terror for them. Indeed, they seem to delight in a snowstorm. They are
very companionable among themselves during the winter. When the weather is
severe "they gather about the hayricks, or find their way into the sheds or mows.
They are great destroyers of weed seeds and insects.

The Turkey Buzzard is one of Nature's scavengers, and, as such, is one of the
few birds whose services to mankind are thoroughly appreciated. There are others
of equal or even greater value who daily earn their right to good will which we
stupidly and persistently refuse to grant them ; but of the Turkey Buzzard's assist-
ance we have frequent convincing proof, and the decree has gone forth that injury
to this bird is punishable by a fine.

Buzzards are very numerous in the South, and are so tame that they walk
about the streets like domestic fowls. I have seen the banks of the Mississippi
at New Orleans completely lined with them. They keep the banks perfectly cleared
of all decaying animal matter, thus rendering a great service to man. Gulls are
also scavengers, aiKl are protected by law. Our common Crow does more good
than we appreciate, by devouring the carcasses of dead animals.

77Z

The Lark Sparrow {Chondestes grammacus)

By W. Leon Wawson

Synonym. — Quail-head.

Description. — Adult: Head variegated black, white, and chestnut; lateral
head-stripes black in front, chestnut behind ; auriculars chestnut, bounded by rictal
and post-orbital black stripes ; narrow loral, and broader submalar black stripes ^
malar, superciliary, and median stripes white, the two latter becoming buffy behind ;
upper parts huffish gray-brown, clearest on sides of neck, streaked by blackish
brown centers of feathers on middle back and scapulars, persisting as edging on
the fuscous wings and tail; tail-feathers, except middle pair, broadly tipped with
white ; below white, purest on throat and belly, washed with grayish buff on sides
and crissum, also obscurely across fore-breast, in which is situated a central black
spot. Length 6.25 (158.8) ; wing 3.39 (86.1) ; tail 2.62 (66.6) ; bill .46 (11.7).

Recognition Marks. — Sparrow size; head variegated black, white, and chest-
nut; fan-shaped tail broadly tipped with white and conspicuous in flight (thus
easily distinguished from the Vesper Sparrow with square tail and lateral white
feathers).

Nest, of grasses, lined with finer grass, rootlets and occasionally horse-hair,
on the ground or, rarely, in low bushes or trees. Eggs, 3-5, white, pinkish or
bluish white, spotted and scrawled in zigzags and scrolls with dark browns or
purplish blacks, chiefly at the larger end. Av. size, .82 x .65 (20.8 x 16.5).

Range. — Southern Ontario, and Mississippi Valley region, from Ohio, Illinois
and Michigan to the Plains, south to southern Texas and northwestern Alabama.
Accidental near Atlantic Coast.

Dusty roadsides, sunny pastures and areas of broken ground harbor this
plainly colored bird from the time of its late arrival in spring until the young are
ready to fly. As the heat of summer increases the birds retire to the seclusion
of sparsely wooded pastures or fence-row thickets.

The males sing upon arrival, selecting for this purpose a station upon the
summit of some outlying tree. The song is best described in the words of Mr.
Ridgway who had ample opportunity to study it in Illinois and the extreme West,
and who has done more than anyone else to bring the bird into well-deserved
prominence. He says : "This song is composed of a series of chants, each sylla-
ble rich, loud and clear, interrupted with emotional trills. At the beginning the
song reminds one somewhat of that of the Indigo Bird (Passerina cyanea) but
the notes are louder and more metallic, and their delivery more vigorous. Though
seemingly hurried, it is one continuous gush of sprightly music; now gay, now
melodious, and then tender beyond description — the very expression of emotion.
At intervals the singer falters, as if exhausted by exertion, and his voice becomes
scarcely audible; but suddenly reviving in his joy, it is resumed in all its vigor,
until he appears to be really overcome by the effort."

This bird more frequently than others is found singing in the middle of the
very hottest davs in summer. At such times his tremulous song comes to the ear

774

585

LARK SPAKKOW
About Life-size.

COPTRIGMT 1903, St A. W. MUMFORO, CHICAGO

like the piirgling of sweet \vater>. Next after the I'.acliinan I would accord him
the highest j)!ace in song among all sparrows.

The accompanying illustration tells the story of nest aiid eggs perhaj)S better
than words. It is worth while to note that the i)icture was taken at .McConnels-
ville. in Morgan County, which must he (juite near the limit of the bird's present
range. Dr. W'heaton first recorded the Lark Sparrow as an Ohio bird in 1861.
Since that time it has steadily increased in numbers, although it is nowhere a
common bird.

Our Rose-Breasted Grosbeak

By Edward B. Clark

Here is a bird that tleserves words as line as its feathers. Our Rose-Breasted
Gro.sbeak is a beauty, is a singer, is good tempered — and it eats potato bugs.

We have a good many Grosbeaks — the gorgeous cardinal, the handsome if
somewhat stupid evening Grosbeak, the blue Grosbeak, and some others. I Jut for
standard qualities give us the Rose-Breast. It nests in the suburbs of Chicago
and is fairly abundant in some seasons, and yet a good many people never seem
to have seen it or to have heard about it. It is worth knowing, worth hearing and
worth looking upon.

The Rose-Breasted Grosbeak dresses in black and white. It always wears,
however, a blush rose in the top buttonhole of its vest, or, if you will, waistcoat, in
order to accentuate the simplicity of its attire. The red of the rose shades off into
the yellow of the jonquil to the right and left, and when the Grosbeak opens its
wings to fly you get the whole of the bright color scheme at once.

Some time along back near the centennial year the Colorado beetle, otherwise,
if less elegantly, known as the potato bug. began to make its way east from the
Rockies, visiting and devastating the potato fields of the farmers on the way.
Paris green became fashionable just about that time in farming circles. The
]X)ison was mixed with water and poured over the potato vines, the object being, of
course, to kill the bug which was devouring the j^otato plants.

One morning a farmer w^alkcd into his field and found four dead Rose-
Breasted Grosbeaks. The birds had been dining off potato bugs which were sat-
urated with paris green. A good many Grosbeaks sacrificed their lives before it
conclusively was proved that this Beau Brummel of birds would eat a viciously
bitter beetle which all other birds shunned.

The Rose-Breasted Grosbeak has saved much money for the potato growers
in the United States. It deserves well of the people. Its song is something like
that of the Robin, but the Robin is a dowdy in dress as compared with the Gros-
beak. The Rose-Breast is a good bird and friendly. It is worth while to scrape
acquaintance with it at its homecoming in the springtime. Just now it is preparing
to leave for the Southland. Xext April it will come back, and we hope that with
every coming year there will be more human friends to welcome it.

77 T>

The White-Tailed Ptarmigan {Lagopus leucurus)

By C. Hart Merriam

Length : 14 inches.

The \Miite-tailed Ptarmigan is an inhabitant of the alpine summits of the
mountain ranges of western North America. Its breeding range is coincident with
its geographical distribution and extends from Alaska to New Mexico, but is lim-
ited to the higher mountains and is always above timber line. This bird rarely
leaves these great heights except in the most severe weather of winter, when it
rarely descends below an altitude of eight thousand feet, though it has been taken
at a height of only two thousand feet.

It is a beautiful bird and an excellent illustration of protective coloration, the
darker color of the summer plumage well harmonizing with its somber surround-
ings, while the white of its winter dress matches the snow of the mountain sides.
When sitting on its nest "so nearly does the bird resemble the gray boulders which
surround her on every side, that the discovery of the nest is largely due to acci-
dent." At such a time, the bird is flushed with difficulty. One observer writes :
''Twice have I escaped stepping upon a sitting ptarmigan by only an inch or so,
and once I reined in my horse at a time when another step would have crushed
out the life of a brood of nine chicks, but an hour or so from the tgg. In this case
the parent crouched at the horse's feet and, though in momentary danger of being
stepped on, made no attempt to escape until I had dismounted and put out my hand
to catch her. She then fluttered to the top of a rock a few feet distant, and
watched me as I handled the young, constantly uttering low anxious protests." It
is said that sitting ptarmigans have been lifted from their nests and the eggs
handled, the bird simply uttering an occasional sound not unlike that of a sitting
hen. In the autumn the ptarmigan is a much shyer bird and when closely
approached will "run about, holding the tail elevated and looking very much like
a white fan-tail pigeon."

Major Bendire in his "Life Histories of North American Birds," gives the
notes of Mr. Dennis Gale, who studied the habits of two broods of White-tailed
Ptarmigans ; one containing seven and the other five chicks. He believed that the
males took no part in the parental cares, but the mother birds were very devoted.
He says : "There was a disposition, clearly proven with the chicks of both broods,
to hide when the hen signaled danger; but some of the older ones flushed and
flew at least fifty yards. The females were very tame and would not flush; in
fact, they could not be induced by mild treatment to leave the place where the
young had hidden. They walked around me so close that I could have touched
them with my hand, and showed a marked concern for their broods, clucking in
a manner very similar to our domestic hen."

No description will more graphically portray the characteristics of the White-
tailed Ptarmigan than that ])reparcd l)y Mr. T. M. Tri])pe for Dr. Coues' "Birds
of the North-\\'cst.'' Mr. Trippe studied this l)ird in the mountainous regions of

776

0>0

H'HITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN Winter plumatcr
(Lagopus leucurus).
* t Life-size.

Colorado ami \^Titl'^ as t'<illo\vs: " I'lic Wliitc-taikil I'tarmi^aii is a \crv ahimdant
liird on tlu- main raii},'t', liviiij^ entirely al)o\f tiinhcr line the year around, except
tlurinj; the severest part of winter, when it descends into the linihcr for siielter
and food, occasionally strajjjjlinj,' as low as ten thousand feet. It begins to change
color alxnit the middle f)f March, when a fi'w s|K'cks of hlackish-hrown begin to
appear in the plumage oi the oldest males ; but the change is very slow and it is
late in .\j)ril before there is much black visible, and the close of May, or early in
June, before the summer plumage is perfect. The ptarmigan builds its nest in the
latter part of June. The nest — which is .-dmost always i)laced on or near the sum-
mit of a ridge or spur, many hundred feet above timber-line — is merely a depres-
sion in the ground, lined with a few straws and white feathers from the mother's
breast. While en 1 cr nest, the bird is very tame. ( )nce, while walking near the
summit of the range, I chanced to look down and saw a ptarmigan in the grass
at my very feet ; at the next step I should have trodden uj)on her. Seeing that she
did not appear frightened. I sat down gently, stroked her on the back, and finally
putting both hands beneath her raised her gently off the nest and placed her on the
grass, while she scolded and pecked my hands like a setting hen ; and on being
released, merely flew off a few yards and settled on a rock, from which she watched
me till I had to go away. Late in July I came across a brood of young ones,
a|)parently not more than four or five days old. They were striped with broad
bands of white and blackish-brown, and looked precisely like little game chickens.
The mother ftew in my face and hit me with her wings, using all the little artifices
that the quail and partridge know so well how to employ, to draw me away ; while
her brood, seven or eight in number, nimbly ran and hid themselves in the dense
grass and among the stones. About the first of September the i)tarmigan begins to
change color again ; but. as in the spring, the process is very gradual, white feath-
ers appearing, one by one, and taking the place of the dark ones. The white on
the lower parts enlarges first ; then the white area of the wings ; and next, white
specks api)ear on the upper parts, becoming larger and more numerous as the
season wears on : but so gradual is the change, that a month after it begins, there
is not much difference in the ])lumage perceptible, the general aspect being that of
summer. The dark areas predominate throughout October and. as I have been
informed by persons who have killed them throughout the year, it is late in Decem-
ber or in January before they become pure white, some few birds showing occa-
sional dark spots even throughout the latter month.

"The ptarmigan feeds upon the leaves and stalks of various alpine plants. It
also lives largely upon insects, and in winter is said to subsist on the buds and
leaves of the pines and firs. Its fiesh is light colored, though not as white as that
of the gray grouse, to which it is usually considered inferior for the table. In
localities where it is seldom molested it is very tame, and I have been informed
by i)ersons whose word is worthy of belief, that they have frequently killed them
with sticks. Ximble of foot, the ptarmigan frequently prefers to run away on the
approach of danger, rather than take wing, runm'ng over the rocks and leaping
from point to point with great agility, stopping every little while to look at the

777

object of alarm. The flight of the ptarmigan is strong, rapid and at times sustained
for a considerable distance, though usually they fly but a few hundred yards before
alighting again. It resembles that of the prairie hen, consisting of rapid flappings
of the wings, alternating with the sailing flight of the latter bird. The note is a loud
cackle, somewhat like the prairie hen, yet quite different ; and when uttered by a
large flock together, reminds one of the confused murmur and gabble of a flock
of shore-birds about to take wing. It is a gregarious bird, associating in flocks
throughout the year, except in the breeding season.

"The colors of the bird closely resemble those of the surrounding objects, at
all seasons of the year. In its summer plumage of speckled black and gray, it is
very difficult to detect while sitting motionless among the gray and lichen-covered
rocks. The ptarmigan is apparently well aware of this, and often squats and
remains quiet while one walks past, trusting to its resemblance to the surrounding
rocks to escape observation. In summer the white areas of the plumage are com-
pletely hidden while the bird is squatting, although plainly visible on the wing ; in
winter the first appearing black specks are concealed beneath the white feathers ;
and at this period, I am informed, is almost indistinguishable from the snow. On
being pursued, it will dive into the snow and reappear at a considerable distance."

The Sea Gulls

By Elizabeth E. Elliott

WhirHng and dipping with stately wings.

The sea gulls float over the bay.
Scanning the water with sharpest eyes,

All ready to pounce on their prey.

Broad pearl-gray wings with ebony tips.
And breasts like the purest of snow,

Now resting lazily in mid-air,

And now dashing to depths below.

Now with their heads tucked under their wing.-
They sleep on old ocean's calm breast,

Now after battling with fiercest gales,

On the stern rock-bound coast they rest.

Scavengers of the shore we know them,
Cleansing all refuse from the beach.

While o'er the sea "Akak" "Kakak"

Echoes their wild, discordant screech.

778

The Meadow Lark

By Evely Phinney

1 heard a Lark in tlir incatlow >ing :

"Life soon passes !"

He callfd from his throne of grasses,
"Life is vanishing, vanishing!"

I saw hini. jubilant, afar —

Wind-swept rover —

Perched in my field of clover.
Insistent he as prophets are.

Such sky, such scent, such plains of air!

Such waters flowing !

Yet: "Life is going, going!"
He sang and sang, ecstatic, there.

"O Ilirfl." I cried, '"what hope is thine.

What longed to-morrow,

That thou shouldst such contentment borrow.
Nor for thy little day repine?"

I watched him and I pondered long.

On my ear beating.

Came to me dominant, entreating.
That liquid affluence of song.

What hope, what rapture in that strain !

Like flaming fire

My soul swept up and could not tire.
Borne on those gusts of bliss and pain.

I mounted, at heaven's gate to cling.

"Life soon passes !"

O joy ! O voice from the grasses I
Life is vaTiishing. vanishing!

— Atlantic Monthlv.

779

The California Towhee {PipUo cnssaUs)

By Joseph Grinnell

Length : 7^^ inches.

CaHfornia, with its heautiful scenery and its wonderful variety of interesting
forms of vegetable life, is the home of the Towhee of our illustration. Its range
is long and narrow, including only that region which lies west of the Cascade and
Sierra Nevada mountain ranges, from Oregon southward to the northern portion
of Lower California. Like many other birds which are abundant and familiar,
the California Towhee is known by several common names. Some of these are :
Brown Finch or Towhee, Crissal Towhee Bunting and Canyon Finch. The last
name, though very commonly applied to the bird, seems quite inappropriate, for
this Towhee is found not only in the canyons, but also on the level country wher-
ever there is a growth of trees or shrubbery. It also frequents the mountain sides
to a height of over three thousand feet.

The California Towhee is not only abundant, but it is also one of the most
characteristic birds of the States, whose name it bears. It belongs to a group of
the finch family, which contains a number of species with terrestrial or semi-ter-
restrial habits. This group is represented in the eastern portion of the United
States by a single species — the chewink or common towhee. In the southern and
western portions of our country, however, there are several species and the genus
reaches its greatest development in Mexico, where there are several kinds not
found elsewhere.

The habits of the California Towhee are similar to those of the other mem-
bers of its genus. It is quite partial to the shrubby banks of streams where it seeks
its food by scratching among the leaves lying on the ground. It is an excellent
example of protective coloration; the hues of its plumage resembling quite per-
fectly those of the earth and fallen foliage. In some localities it is a constant com-
panion of the California thrasher. The song of the California Towhees consists
of a "few quaint chirping and hurried notes, as they sit perched on a low bush
in the spring." Its most striking characteristics are its brownish color, its long
tail and its jerking flight as it passes from bush to bush.

Regarding its nesting habits. Dr. J. G. Cooper says that he found a large num-
ber that were "built in bushes, from two to four feet from the ground, and con-
taining but three eggs, with the exception of one, which contained four." He also
found nests that were built in low trees and in a vine, growing over the porch of
a house. However, these Towhees vary greatly in the selection of a nesting site.
Not infrequently the nest is placed on the ground, in hollow tree trunks, or in
crevices of rocks which are hidden by vegetation. Nests have also Ijeen found in
cactus plants not more than a foot above the ground, and in trees fully fifteen
feet high.

780

3r

e O

r' =

m' Q H

California RrOU'n Tovvhee (PipHocrissalis und varieties)

Length: About 9 iiicho. ihc- luiij^ tail aiwl brown pluniaf^c with wliitc belly
distinguish these ground- and thicket-loving birds.

Range. — Southwestern ( )regon, through California to northern Lower C ali-
fornia

The IJrown Towhees, of which the California form is a good type, are char-
acteristic of the brushy canyons of the far west, where they skulk and hide among
the shrubbery and cactus much as do the common eastern towhees. Their jxjwers
of wing are not great and their long tails and heavy bodies render their flight
awkward in the extreme. On the ground, however, they run with great ease and
speed. In California brown towhees are common in the ])arks and gardens, and
iti every way are very much more familiar than the related towhee of the east.
Like its eastern cousin, it is much addicted to scratching among leaves and rub-
bish, for which work its stout legs and claws are particularly adapted. The thin
"tchij)." which is the call note, seems out of all proj)ortion coming from ^uch a
stout, vigorous body. The birds of this group are not hue songsters, but their
simple ditties are pleasant to hear in the waste places where they are gener-
ally found.

The brown towhee is much more of a vegetarian than an insect eater, and
in California Professor Beal found that 85 per cent of its yearly food consists of
fruit, grain and weed seeds.

Birds' Christmas

Why not make a Christmas present

To the birds that with us stay
When the snowHakes fast are falling.

And the skies are dull and gray?
Just a little bag of suet

That can dangle from a tree
Will the woodpeckers give pleasure;

While the merry chickadee
May be made supremely happy

By crumbs scattered round our door ;
And as soon as these are eaten

He will quickly chirp for more.
At Christmas, the time of giving.

Heed then these advising words,
And do not neglect to furnish

Some such present for the birds.

— Xellie M. Cove, in Our Dumb Au'unols.

781

Return of the Birds

By Melicent Eno Humason

Early morning and early May — that is the time to study the birds, before the
foliage is mature and offers leafy coverts to the shade-loving songsters.

I know where lies the bed of an old canal, its ridges topped by the spicy
sprays of the white pine, and there it is a joy to come, in the warm spring days,
and worship in the sun-stained aisle.

The birds, from the little vestured fellows to the pompous choristers, keep
their matin hymns well in progress until the heat of noon, when only a few solos
and occasional duets may be heard.

The big, sleepy, Rose-Breasted Grosbeak sits quietly on a bough, watching
the motions of the others, and apparently directing their songs.

A little black and white creeping warbler sidles around the trunk of a red
cedar, darts recklessly across the path — almost poking his fearless feathers into
my eyes — and clings to another trunk, lisping his slippery notes meanwhile.

"Weachy, weachy, weachy, weachy, weachy !"' shrills the oven bird from a
tall-treed copse close by — "weachy, weachy, weachy" — nearer, strident and sharp,
grating as a violin note which has slipped ofif its key from sheer exuberance.

Now for a few seconds, all is silent, until I hear a faint stirring among the
pine-needles, where, scarcely distinguishable from the dull earth tones of olive
green and tawny-brown, a couple of these birds have lighted, and are strutting
haughtily about like pouter pigeons, until one daintily flits to the topmost branch
of a sapling, and lifting up his head, canary- wise, utters his piercing song.

Two shrieking blue jays, flaunting their brilliant plumage against the duller
blue of the sky, whirr far above my head, seeking the tallest pines, while the tiny
bay-breasted warbler plays "ring-around-a-rosy" all by himself in the feathery
shad bush close at hand.

A sharp scratching and pecking issues from the dry, withered leaves under
an old oak, and I curiously wonder if a white hen with a brood of chicks has wan-
dered far, far from home ; but instead of the customary "cluck, cluck," mingled
with the piping chirp of the youngsters, a good-natured "to-we" accompanies the
rumpus, and to my surprise Herr Chewink and his dowdy frau are getting their
dinner with the energy of a whole barnyard.

The sudden hush in the woods, and the overhanging sun, assures me that noon
has come, so reclining on a fragrant couch of pine needles, I bring forth my bottle
of cofifee and my egg sandwich, and proceed to enjoy my noontide repast.

As I leisurely survey the opposite bank of the one-time canal, Herr Chewink,
resigning his post as butler, and leaving the drudgery of domestic affairs to his
wife, flutters to the leafless bough of a scrub-oak, and offers me a musical treat.

trill) is indeed the only number on his program, but it is so friendly, so

confident, so sweet that I listen in perfect delight, fain to applaud, but knowing
the outcome of such noisy approval.

782

Far ott, always in the hij^liot iilact-s. lioats to mc the iin <--;iiit zee, zee, /ee,
zee, zee, zee, zee, of the tireIes^ black-throated warbler, the sixth zee falling' lower
than the rest, like a dropped stitch, and save for hini, and my musical i>erformer,
the woods are quiet, for this is the mid-day siesta.

I'.irlv morning and earlv Mav— that is the time for the lover of birds.

Night-Flying Birds

"It is difficult to believe that at times during the season of migrati(jn the sky
at night is filled with birds from dusk until dawn. If they see the earth below, it
must be too dim to guide them on their journey. Still they find their way just
as surely as do those birds which travel by day.

"The day fliers are hardy rovers which are used to the open, and do not
hesitate to venture far from cover. But the night fliers are the shy, retiring birds
of thickets and undergrowth which rarely go far from their own door-step. Or,
if they live in trees, their flight is usually only from tree to tree. The thrushes,
warblers, vireos, and small flycatchers are all night fliers.

"For several reasons, we know more about the travels of the night fliers
than we do about those of the day fliers. First, because many more birds travel
by night than by day. Second, because practically all birds that fly by night are
real migrants. Third, because the night fliers seem unable to avoid the light-
houses in their way, and the number killed by striking these beacons erected for
man's safety has given us a vast amount of information concerning the birds
that travel after dark.

"By night as well as by day our ears can tell us much about the number of
birds that are passing overhead. Indeed, during nights when many birds are
flying, we can, from favorable places, such as high hilltops or cities in the birds'
highway, hear their call-notes almost constantly. The hill brings us nearer the
birds, and the city lights bring the birds nearer to us. Light seems to attract them
as it does moths.

"An ornithologist at Madison. Wisconsin, states that on the night of Septem-
ber 14, 1906, no less than 3.800 bird-calls were heard from one place. The aver-
age was twelve calls for each minute, but at times so many calls were heard that
it was evident the air above was thronged with birds." — Frank M. Chapman.

783

The House Finch {Carpodacus Mexkanus frontalis)

By S. Waldo Bailey

Length: About 5^ inches.

This active and pretty Httle bird is an attractive feature of the landscape of
the western United States. It is a common bird throughout its range, which
extends from Oregon southward into Lower California and western Mexico.
Eastward its range extends to Colorado and the western part of Texas. It is one
of the best known of the birds of southern California, where it is often called the
California Finch or Linnet. The brightly colored plumage of its head has also
given it the name Red-headed Linnet. This bird is better known in many localities
by the names Burion and Crimson-fronted Finch.

The House Finch is not particular in the selection of a site for its home and
will build "anywhere, from the limb of any tree to the side of a haystack or a tin
can on a porch." Neither is it particular in the choice of building materials, using
those which are furnished by its environment. Though the nests are usually con-
structed with coarse grasses or weeds and lined with soft fibers, hair or fine roots,
the bird may use straws, strings, small roots, strips of bark fibers and hair in the
outer wall, and feathers for the lining. It has been known to pre-empt the unoc-
cupied nests of other birds, such as those of the oriole, the cliff swallow and also
woodpecker holes.

Dr. J. G. Cooper states that he has found the nests "in trees, on logs and
rocks, inside a window shutter, in the holes of walls, under tile or thatch roofs,
in haystacks and barns, in the interstices between the sticks of a hawk's nest, and
in an old nest of an oriole." Dr. Coues found that this Finch will occupy the old
nests of barn swallows, and "not infrequently would take possession by force,
after an animated contest, of a nest just finished, making its disconsolate owners,
who had little chance against the spirited interlopers, build another nest."

Its song is lively and varied and is heard throughout the year wherever the
bird is a constant resident. When caged they are called California Linnets, and
they seem to thrive in captivity though the bright color of the head is said to
finally change to yellow.

Though the House Finch feeds on the seeds of the wild mustard and of other
wild herbaceous plants, as well as on the seeds of the cottonwood and other trees,
it is also very destructive to the seeds, fruits and tender young plants of gardens.
As it enjoys the society of man and seeks his protection, when abundant, it is often
very destructive in his cultivated grounds and gains only his enmity. It is not
surprising that this pretty bird often becomes a nuisance when we realize that
it may raise three broods in a season.

784

625

HOUSE FINCH,

fCarpodacus ^lexlcanu!^ frontalis.)

About i Life-si^e.

COPTdlOMT 1«C4. tr A. W. UuuroRD. CHICAGO

A Few of the Bird Family

The Ukl iJob White, and chijjhird ;

The tlickcr and chcc-uiiik,
And httlf hopty-skijj bird
Along the river hrink.

'Jhc blackbird and snowbird,
The chickcn-iiawk and crane;

The «jlossy old black crow-bird;
And buzzard down the lane.

The \cllowbird and rcdbird.

The tom-tit and the cat ;
The thrush and that redhead bird

The rest's all pickin' at !

The jay-bird and the bluebird.

The sap-suck and the wren —
The cockadoodle-doo bird,

And our old settin' hen !

James irititcomb Riley.

Blue Goose (Choi cacndescens)

Ran^e. — Breed> probably in interior of northern L'ngava ; winters from
Nebraska and southern Illinois south to coasts of Texas and Louisiana.

We know comparatively little of the life history of the blue goose. That it
breeds in the far Xorth is certain and it is surmised that it nests in the interior
of Ungava. Few ornithologists have ever seen the bird, even in migration, though
it is known to pass down the Mississippi \'alley in considerable numbers. If, as is
said, this goose migrates by night as well as by day, one reason for its apparent
scarcity is evident. A new chapter was added to the bird's history when, in 1910.
Mc.Atee and Job found it wintering by thousands in the delta of the Mississippi
River. These observers report that the geese were in such numbers as to inflict
great damage on pasture lands. Like all its relatives, this species is a strict veg-
etarian and is i)articularly fond of the tender shoots of grass or grain. Eaton, in
his "liirds of New York," after remarking that the blue goose is one of the rarest
waterfowl which visits the waters of Xew York State, gives the following syno-
nyms under which the bird is known locally : Blue snow goose, blue-winged goose,
blue wavy, white-headed blue brant, white-headed goose. The list would seem to
indicate that at some time or other the goose was more widely distributed or bet-
ter known than at present.

785

J. he rvOacl IvUnner (Geococcyx Calijomianus)

By Gerard Alan Abbott

Length : About 20 inches.

The range of the Road-runner is very restricted and includes the southwestern
United States from Texas to the Pacific Ocean. It is also a native of the larger
part of Mexico, and it is found as far northward as southern Utah. It is prac-
tically a resident of all but the northern portion of its range.

This peculiar bird has several common names, all more or less suggestive of
its habits. Some of the more striking of these common names are the Ground
Cuckoo, the Chaparral Cock, the Lizard Bird and the Snake-killer. The name
Road-runner was given this bird because of its terrestrial habits and the rapidity
wath which it moves over the ground, where it spends much of its life searching
for its food. This consists of insects, snakes, lizards, snails, worms and even small
rodents and young birds. It destroys vast numbers of grasshoppers and beetles,
and one observer states that he found in the stomach of one a garter snake that
was fully twenty inches long.

Major Charles Bendire has given the following excellent account of his obser-
vations of the habits of this species : "Road-runners are ordinarily rather shy
and suspicious birds, and not as often seen as one would think, even where com-
paratively common. Within the United States they are most abundant along the
southern borders of Texas and Arizona, and in southern California. Notwith-
standing their natural shyness, they are inquisitive birds, and where they are not
constantly chased and molested will soon become used to man. One of these birds
paid frequent visits to my camp, often perching on a mesquite stump for half an
hour at a time within twenty yards of my tent. While so perched it would usually
keep up a continuous cooing, not unlike that of the mourning dove, varied now
and then by a cackle resembling that of a domestic hen when calling her brood's
attention to some choice morsel of food. This call sounded like 'dack, dack, dack,'
a number of times repeated. Another peculiar sound was sometimes produced by
snapping its mandibles rapidly together. While uttering these notes its long tail
was almost constantly in motion and partly expanded, and its short wings slightly
drooped. In walking about at ease the tail is somewhat raised and the neck partly
contracted. When suddenly alarmed the feathers of the body are compressed and
it trusts almost entirely to its legs for escape, running surprisingly fast. While
running it can readily keep out of the way of a horse on a fair gallop on com-
paratively open ground, and should the pursuer gain too much on the bird it sud-
denly doubles on its course and takes advantage of any thickets or broken ground
in the vicinity, and is soon lost to sight. Its flight is apparently easy, and, consid-
ering its short wings, is rather swift."

The fleetness of the Road-runner is shown by the statement of an eye-witness,
who, when in southern California, saw one of these birds chased by ranchmen for
a distance of a mile or more at a high speed, when the l)ird, though still in advance,

786

■ 2. rn

m

quickly stopped and flew to the branches of a low tree, apparently in an exhausted
condition. Though related to the cuckoos, it resembles the pheasants because of
its terrestrial habits.

The Road-runner usually nests in rather low trees or bushes and occasionally
in the hollow of a dead stump. The nest is usually placed where it is well con-
cealed from view, and it has been known to ai)|)ropriate the nests of other birds.
The body of the nest is usually constructed with small sticks or twigs and lined
with finer twigs and dry grasses. The lining may also consist of dung, feathers,
bark hber, fragments of snake skins and other hue materials that may be foun<l in
the vicinity. Sometimes the lining is eiilirely absent and the eggs are laid on the
foundation of sticks.

"The j>arents are devoted to their young, and when incubation is well advanced
the bird will sometimes allow il^rlf to be caught on the nest rather than abandon
its eggs. The notlings. when disturbed, make a clicking noise with their bills.
When taken young, they are readily tamed, soon becoming attached to their captor,
showing a great deal of sagacity and making amusing and interesting pets."

I-'ood : Lizzards, swifts and other small reptiles.

Maryland Yellovvthroats

By Melicent Eno Humason

There's a wee bit copse of slender brown-toned birches on the eastern side of
a dark pine grove, and the southern side of a brier-hemmed marsh, and that's the
playground of the prettiest pair of warblers — no, not the prettiest, but the
quaintest, cutest, perhaps the most approachable pair — in the whole kingdom.

"Whitseka, whitseka. whitseka," chirrups the male, teetering recklessly on a
low springing bough, and constantly interrupting his song by sudden twists of his
surprisingly supple neck, as he dives for insects complacently crawling on the
underpart of his perch.

Always masked is he — his would-be disguise, intensely black — stretched tight
across his eyes. Silly fellow ! He thinks to conceal his own identity by the very
thing which proves it !

His simple, housewifely little mate wears none. Her quiet ways are enough
of protection for her.

Their two little bodies — saffron below, olive above — darting about the tiny
leaved saplings, bring one more significance of joy into the world.

Some day, soon, I shall hope to find, in the big, luxuriant leaves of a cool
skunk cabbage nearby — their nest ; and I shall come with offerings of devotion —
the love in mv heart — to lav at the threshold.

787

Double-Crested Cormorant {Phaiacrocorax auHtus)

By Lynds Jones

Length : 30 to 32 inches.

The Double-crested Cormorant, a pair of which is shown in our illustration
with their nest and eggs, is the common Cormorant of the eastern and middle
United States. In that region, however, it is rarely seen excepting during its
migrations, or as a winter visitant in the southern states as far north as southern
Illinois and Mrginia. In exceptional seasons it has, however, been known to pass
the winter as far north as the Bay of Fundy. It nests from the states of Dakota
and Minnesota and the region of the Great Lakes northward.

The habits of the double-crested species are similar to those of the other Cor-
morants. Fish form its principal article of food. These it obtains by diving and
pursuing them under water. It is a strong and rapid swimmer, as well as an expert
diver. To escape an enemy it will remain under water for a long period and swim
a considerable distance. In migrating, the birds form in a long, narrow line and
fly very high, their flight resembling that of the larger ducks. Though they fly
rapidly, there is a constant and labored flapping of the wings, and if they sail, it is
only for a short distance.

The double-crested cormorant is somewhat erratic in its choice of a nesting
site. Some pairs seem to prefer the vicinity of inland waters — large lakes or rivers
— while other pairs only breed on rocky islands in the sea. The nest may be built
in a crevice, on a ledge of a sea-washed cliff or it may be placed in a secluded place
on the beach of a lake. Sometimes it is constructed in a low bush and not infre-
quently in a tree on a river bank. The materials used are coarse sticks, twigs and
grass. When on the seashore the nest is frequently built entirely of marine
herbage.

The double-crested cormorants "may often be seen sitting on snags or on
rocks ; but they are so shy they cannot be approached in a boat, although in flying
they often pass very near the hunter, and thus afford an opportunity for a shot.
In winter they associate in small numbers with the more marine species."

788

602

LBLK-CRESTKI) KtRMOKANT.
(Phalacrocorax diloptius).
J Life-size.

rOHD, CHICAGO

Russet-Backed Thrush iiiyiondihi nstiiiata)

Length : 7j4 inches.

Among thrushes having tlic top of head and tail nearly the same color as the
hack, this one is distingui>hed hy its tawny eye-ring and cheeks. The I'acific coast
Mihspecies is russet hrown ahove. while the other suhspecics is the olive-hacked
thrush. The remarks helow a])ply to the species as a whole.

Kange. — 1 '.reeds in the forested parts of .Alaska and Canada and south of Cali-
fornia. Colorado, Michigan. Xew Wnk, West \ irginia ( mountains ), and Maine;
winters from Mexico to South .America.

Hahits and I'xonomic Status. — This is one of a small gnnip of thrushes the
members of which are hy many ranked hrst among American songbirds. The sev-
eral members resemble one another in size, plumage, and habits. While this thrush
is very fond of fruit, its partiality for the neighborhood of streams keeps it from
frequenting orchards far from water. It is most troublesome during the cherry
.season, when the young are in the nest. From this it might be inferred that the
young are fed on fruit, but .such is not the case. The adults eat fruit, but the nest-
lings, as usual, are fed mostly upon insects. Beetles constitute the largest item of
animal food, and ants come next. Many caterpillars also are eaten. The great
bulk of vegetable food consists of fruit, of which two-fifths is of cultivated varie-
ties. Where these binU live in or near gardens or orchards, they may do consid-
erable damage,. but they are too valuable as insect destroyers to be killed if the
fruit can be protected in any other way.

Black Flycatcher; Phainopepla iPhaiuopepia nitens)

Length, about 7j./. inches. The glossy black color and marked crest of the
male, and the brownish gray of the female, also crested, distinguish this species.

Range: Breeds from central California. Nevada. L'tah. and southwestern
Texas southward ; winters from southern California southward.

Though a distant relative of the cedar bird, the phainopepla differs niarkedlv
from that species both in appearance and habits. It is known to few, for it lives
chiefly in the desert country of the southwest, though it is not wholly a stranger
in the parks and gardens of that region. When flying, the white wing-patch
becomes conspicuous and distinguishes the bird from all others. In the fall it is
not unusual to find it in loose flocks the members of which are drawn temporarily
together perhaps by the abundance of some favorite food. Like the cedar bird,
it is essentially a berry eater, and in California sometimes makes free of the
cherry crop. Its chief dependence, however, is the mistletoe, the mucilaginous
berrie§ of which delight it, as also do those of the juniper and pepper. Its par-
tiality for mistletoe is probably the bird's worst trait, as it distributes the seeds
of this pernicious parasite to the detriment of many fine oaks and sycamores.
It eats many insects, principally ants, and has the habit of perching on a tall
shrub, from which it sallies forth after flying insects, thus simulating a flycatcher.
It is this habit which has given the bird its common name. The phainopepla has
a variety of call notes and a very pleasant song.

789

King Elder {Somaterla spectabilis)

Range. — Breeds along coast of northern Siberia and Arctic coast of America
from lev Cape east to Melville Island, Wellington Channel, northern Greenland,
northwestern Hudson Bay, and northern Ungava ; winters on Pacific coast from
Aleutian Islands to Kodiak Island, in the interior rarely to the Great Lakes, and
from soutliern Greenland and Gulf of St. Lawrence south regularly to Long Island.

The King Eider is a resident of Arctic realms, and visits the Great Lakes and
our North Atlantic coast only in winter. At Point Barrow, on the Arctic coast,
Murdock found this the most abundant bird, but even there it occurred chiefly as
a migrant. The King Eider is almost as much at home in the w-ater as a fish, and
is able to keep to the open sea during the severest winter weather. In fact, prob-
ably the bulk of the species never migrate at all, or only move south a sufficient
distance to reach permanent open water. The bird feeds largely upon mussels,
and as the beds are in deep water all its natatorial powers are brought into play
in diving for its daily fare. It has actually been taken in the gill nets of fishermen
in more than 150 feet of water, as Eaton states, a fact which sufficiently attests
its skill and hardihood, more particularly as the water at this season is icy cold.

Like its relatives, it nests among rocks and bushes. The eiders are not so
prolific as many of our smaller ducks, and this one commonly lays only five or
six eggs. The King Eider is one of the species the Icelanders depend on to fur-
nish the harvest of down which is one of the important crops gathered by these
northern people. The Icelanders are not the only ones who are dependent on this
and other eiders for the necessities of life, for as Nelson tells us, "the skins of all
the eiders, but especially of this species and the Pacific Eider, are used in making
clothing by the Alaskan Eskimo, and the skin of the female, split down the back,
with head, legs, and wings removed, is a very common article of footwear. It is
used inside of the sealskin boots, and is very comfortable in winter."

The Little Brown Wren

The little brown wren has the brightest of eyes,. .

And a foot of a very diminutive size ;

Her tail is as trig as the sail of a ship ;

She's demure, thought she walks with a hop and skip ;

And her voice — but a flute were more fit than a pen,

To tell of the voice of the little brown wren.

— Clinton Holland.

790

Golden Plo\'er (Cluinuirins dominiciis douiininis)

Kangc. — l>ret'<Is from Kotzcljiu' Souinl aloii},' tlu- Arctic coast to mouth of
Mackenzie, and from Melville Island. W'ellinj^ton t"hainu-l. and Melville Penin-
sula south to northwestern lludsoii I'.ay : winlers on the jiampas of llra/il and
Argentina.

At one season or another the jj[(jlden |)Iover (jccurs over practically all of the
L'nited States and formerly its mnnhirs were enormous. The migrations of this
])lover arc uni(|ue amon^jj shore-hirds. I'ndcr ordinary circumstances, the route
the hird follows to its Arj^'entine winteriiifj^ grounds protects it completely, since
when it lea\es Lahrailor it holdly strikes across the ocean and, unless deflected hy
storms, apparently does not fold its wings until it reaches the South American
Continent. So long a flight without resting may seem impossihle for a hird as
small as this plo\er. We know, however, that a close relative, the Pacific golden
plover, dies from Alaska to the Hawaiian .Vrchijjelago, a distance of quite 2,000
miles. While the Atlantic species might stoj) to rest if it would, the Pacific coast
species has no stopping place between its starting ])oint and its destination. Prob-
ably, as Cooke surmises, from food consideration the Atlantic coast species returns
in spring by an all-land route, and passes up the Mississippi Valley in great num-
bers. Though protected in fall from sportsmen by the route it follows, spring
shooting in the Mississippi X'alley has depleted the ranks of this plover to a pitiful
remnant of its fornur numbers. The time has indeed long passed when a party
of sportsmen, however large, can kill forty-eight thousand plover in a day. as
Audubon states was done near Xew Orleans in 1821. and now the question to be
solved is whether jjrotection during its spring migration comes too late to save
the species.

The Echo in the Heart

It's little I can tell - »

About the birds in books ;

And yet I know them well.

By their music and their looks.

When ^lay comes down the lane,

Her airy lovers throng

To welcome her with song,

And follow in her train ;

Each minstrel weaves his part

In that wild-flowery strain,

And I know thctn all again

By their echo in my heart.

— Hcnr\ Van Dxke.

791

The Cassowary {Casuarlus galeatus)
By J. G. Wood

■Length : About 45 inches.

A large bird of the genus Casuarius, fcund in the East Indies. It is smaller
and stouter than the ostrich. Its head is armed with a kind of helmet of horny
substance, consisting of plates overlapping each other, and it has a group of long
sharp spines on each wing which are used as defensive organs. It is a shy bird
and runs with great rapidity.

The plumage of the body is very hairlike, being composed of long and almost
naked shafts, two springing from the same tube, and one always being longer than
the other. At the roots of the shafts there is a small tuft of delicate down, suffi-
cientlv thick to supply a warm and soft inner garment, but yet so small as to be
hidden by the long hairlike plumage. Even the tail is furnished with tlie same
curious covering and the wings are clothed after a similar manner with the excep-
tion of five black, stiff, strong, pointed quills, very like the large quills of the por-
cupine, and being of dift'erent lengths, the largest not exceeding one foot, and gen-
erally being much battered about the point. When stripped of its feathers, the
whole wing extends only some three inches in length, and is evidently a mere
indication of the limb.

The food of this bird in a wild state consists of herbage and various fruits,
and in captivity it is fed on bran, apples, carrots and similar substances, and is sai 1
to drink nearly half a gallon of water per diem.

The robin, the forerunner of the Spring,
The bluebird with his jocund caroling,
The restless swallows building in the eaves,
The golden buttercups, the grass, the leaves,
The lilacs tossing in the winds of May,
All welcome this majestic holiday.

Longfellow.

792

^

^^

^

^

rnOM coi.. CMi. acao. sciences.

644

CASSOWARY.

(Casuarius i;aleatus).

i Life-size.

COPrRfSHT U04, BY A. w. MUMFORO, CMIOCO

Labrador Duck {CumptorhyudiHs lahnidor'ms)

K.ini^f. — l'<irnK-rIy, iiortluni Atlaiilic coasts; supposi-d to ha\r hrnl in Labra-
dor; wintcrf(l from Xova Scotia south to New Jersey.

The Labrador Dueks histor) is shrcnided in mystery. It is now kiunvii to lie
extinct but of the causes of its (hsapjjearauce we kiKJW Httle or iKjthinj^. ( )ccupy-
injj^ as it (h<l such a restricted ran<,'e. the l)ird was ]>robably never abundant, at
least in historic times. Many years a^o ( ieorge X. Lawrence told me that in his
recollection, somewhere probably about 1S5(). it was by no means uncommon in
I'uiton .Market, and no one at that time appiar> to have suspected that the bird
was in any particular danj^'er of extinction, .\pparently its habits were th(j>e of
a sea duck, and as it could have possessed no ^reat value for the table there would
seem to have been no particular incentive for its ])ursuit. We know so little about
the bird that speculation as to the cause of its extinction is useless but, as sug-
gested by I'orbush, the slaughter of waterfowl on the Labrador coast in the
eighteenth century may have had much to do with it. The lesson to be drawn from
its fate is that if a game bird like the Labrador Duck can become extinct in historic
times from no assignable cause we should be doubly careful not to reduce the
numbers of any of our valuable game birds to a point which threatens their future,
since when reduced beyond certain limits, the precise limits being as yet unknown,
recovery seems to be impossible, as witness the history of the passenger pigeon
and the Eskimo curlew.

So far as known, the last Labrador Duck seen alive by man was taken at
Grand Menan on the Maine coast in 187L Fortunately, some forty-odd speci-
mens are known to be in museums and in private collections.

793

Our Comrade the Robin

By Joseph Grinnell

On account of its generous distribution, and the affection for the bird in the
heart of Young America and England ahke. the robin shall be given first place
among the singing birds. He is the "Little Wanderer" — as the name signifies — the
"Robin-son Crusoe" of almost every clime and race.

True, he may be a warbler instead of a thrush in the Old World ; but what
does that signify? To whatever class or family he may belong by right of birth
and legend, the bird of the red breast is the bird of the human breast.

It is impossible to study the early history of birds in any language and not
stumble upon legend and superstition. And the more we read of these the more
we come to delight in them. There may not be a bit of truth in the matter, but
there is fascination. It is like delving among the dust and cobwebs of an old attic.
The more dust and cobwebs, the more fun in coming upon things one never went
in cj[uest of.

Of course superstition has its objections; but when the robin is the point at
issue, we may waive objections and go on our merry ways satisfied that the oldest
and clearest head in the family will concur.

Legends concerning our comrade the robin are full of tender thought of him.
They have kept his memory green through the rain and shine of centuries, even
going so far as to embalm him after death, as will be seen.

It is well-nigh impossible to give the earliest date in which the robin is men-
tioned as a "sacred bird." Certain it is that he ranks with characters of "ye olden
time," for myth and superstition enshrined him. The literature of many tongues
has preserved him. Poetry and sculpture have embodied him and given him place
among the gods and winged beings that inhabit the "neighbor world." Did he
not scorch his original gray breast by taking his daily drop of water to lost souls?
Did he not stain it by pressing his faithful heart against the crown of thorns?
Or. did he not burn it in the Far North when he fanned back into flame the dying
embers which the polar bear thought to have trampled out in his wrath that white
men invaded his shores? Was he not always the "pious bird?" — though it must
be confessed that his beak alone seemed to be possessed of religious tendencies.
Was he not the original church sexton who covered the dead, with impartial beak,
from eye of sun and man, piling high and dry the woodland leaves about them?
The wandering minstrel, the orphan child, or the knight of kingly robe, each shared
his sweet charity.

This superstition of the robin's art in caring for the dead runs through many
of the old poets, Drayton, Grahame. Hood. Herrick, and others. .Strict justice in
the matter would have divided the praise of him with the charitable night winds,
for it was they more than he who "covered friendless bodies." The sylvan shades
of the Old World being then more comprehensive than now. unl)uricd men, from
any cause, found their last resting-place in the lap of the forest, sleeping wherever

794

they ffll, since no law^ of "'(U'lCiit lturi;il" j(ovcriu-<| ilu- wilds. The iiij^'lu winds,
true to their instincts then as now, swirled the fallen leaves about any object in
their way. in tiic fashion of a burial shroud. .\s a matter of course, credit was
given to the robin, whose voracious appetite always led him to plunder litter of
any sort in search of food. I'p brij^ht and early, as is still his habit (since at this
hour he is able to waylay the belated nij(ht in>^ect), the robin was s])ied bestirriiifj
the fofest leaves, and unbeknown to himself was sainted for all time.

And his duties were not confined to those of sexton alone, for, according to
good witnesses, he became both sculptor and clerg>'man — stripping, as they were
supposed to do. the foliage from the trees on which to write their elegies, and
so leaving the uncovered trunks as nioiuinuntal shafts.

In rilgrim's Progress. Christiana is >aid to have been greatly astonished at
seeing a robin with a s])ider in its beak. Said she. "What a disjjaragcment it is to
such a littlr. ]irctt\ bird a^ tlii' rol)in-redl)reast is. hi- l)eing also a bird ab(jve many,
that loveth to maintain a kind of sociableness with man : \ had thougiit tliey ha<l
lived on crumbs of bread — I like him worse than I did."

And the wordy-wist- I nti-rpreter. to clinch a moral lesson in the mind oi the
religious woman. ex])lained how the robins "when they are by themselves, catch
and gobble uj) spiders: they can change their diet (like the ungodly hypocrite),
drink ini(|uity. and swallow down sin like water. ' And so. obedient to her spiritual
adviser, Christiana liked the robin "worse than she did." Poor soul ; she should
have observed for herself that for a robiu to gobble up a spider is no "iniquity."
Did she think that crumbs grew^ on bushes, ready made for early breakfast, or
that the under side of woodland leaves was buttered to order?

Spiders the robin must have, else how could he obtain the strings for his
harp? Wherever the spider spins her thread, there is her devotee, the robin. He
may not be seen to pluck and stretch the threads, but the source of them he loves,
and he says his best grace above this dainty of his board. Our pet robin was
know^n to stand patiently by the crack of a door, asking that it be opened wider,
as, in his opinion, a spider was hiding behind it. He heard her stockinged tread,
as he hears also the slippered feet of the grub in the garden sod — provided the
grubs have feet, which it is known they can do tolerably well without.

Sure it is the world over, be he thrush or warbler, the robin is partial to
bread and butter; to bread thrice buttered if he can get it. l-'at of any sort he
craves. The more practical than sentimental believe that he uses it in the prepara-
tion of the "colors done in oil" with which he tints his breast. For lack of oil.
therefore, where it is not provided by his friends, or discovered by himself, his
breast is underdone in color, paling even to dusky hue : so that, would you have a
redbreast of deepest dye. be liberal witli his buttered bread.

And his yellow mouth ! Ah, it is the color of spring butter when the dan-
delions are astir, oozing out. as it were, when he is very young, as if for suggestion
to those who love him.

The historical wedding of Cock Robin to Jenny Wren was the result of
anxiety on the part of mutual friends who would unite their favorite birds. The

795

"courtship," the "merry marriage," the "picnic dinner," and the rest of the tragedy
are well described. Alas, for the death and burial of the robin-groom, who did
not live to enjoy the bliss of wedded life as prearranged by his solicitous friends.
But the afifair went merry as a marriage-bell for a while, and was good until for-
tunes changed.

All the birds of the air combined to make the event a happy one, and they
dined and they supped in elegant style.

"For each took a bumper
And drank to the pair ;
Cock Robin the bridegroom.
And Jenny Wren the fair."

Just as the dinner things were being removed, and the bird guests were
singing "fit to be heard a mile around," in stalked the Cuckoo, who it is presumed
had not been invited to the wedding, and was angry at being slighted. He rudely
began pulling the bride all about by her pretty clothes, which aroused the temper
of the groom, naturally enough, as who could wonder? His best man, the Sparrow,
went out and armed himself, his weapons being the bow and arrow, and took his
usual steady aim to hit the intruder, but, like many another excited marksman,
he missed his aim, and, oh, the pity of it! shot Cock Robin himself. (It was an
easy way for the poet to dispose of the afTair, as he knew very well a robin and
a wren couldn't mate, in truth.)

Nor did the Sparrow deny his unintentional blunder when it came to the trial.
There were witnesses in plenty ; and Robin was given a splendid burial — Robin
who had himself officiated at many a ceremony of the same sad sort.

It is a pathetic tale, as any one may see who reads it, and served the purpose
of stimulating sympathy for the birds. We have forgiven the sparrow for his
blunder, as will be seen later on ; for in consequence of it, the birds were called
lip in line and made to do something, thus distinguishing themselves as no idlers.

The mating of Robin with Jenny Wren proved a failure, of course, so we
have our dear "twa birds," the robins, as near alike as two peas, when the male
is not singing and the female is not cuddling her nest. A trifle brighter of tint is
the male (in North America), but the two combine, like any staid farmer and
his wife, in getting a living out of the soil. Hand in hand, as it were, they wander
about the country anywhere under the flag, at home wherever it rains ; but re-
turning to the same locality, with true homing instinct, as often as the springtime
suggests the proper season for family afifairs ; completing these same affairs in
time to look after their winter outfit of clothes. This last more on account of
their annual shal:)by condition than by reason of the rigors of cold, for they change
climate as often as health and happiness (including, of course, food) require.

True some penalties attach to this sudden and frequent change, but the robins
accept whatever comes to them with a protest of song, returning good for evil,
even w^hen charged with stealing more fruit than the law allows. It is impossible
to compare the good they do with any possible harm, since the insect harvest-
time is always, and the robin's farming implements never grow rusty.

796

Always in the wake of the robins is the sharp-shinned hawk and niany an-
other winged enemy, for their migrations are followed by faithful foes who
secrete themselves in the shadows. We dejjrived one of the desperadoes of his
dinner l)eforc he had so much as tasted it. also of his pleasure in obtaining another,
for we brought him down in the very act, and rescmd his victim only by prying
apart the reluctantly dying claws.

I'lUt whatever may be said of hawks and such other hungry beings who lay
no claim to a vegetable diet, their so-called cruelty should be overlooked, since it
is impossible to draw the lines without affecting the robin himself. For see with
what excusable greed he snatches at winged beings which happen to light for a
rest in their flight, or draws the protesting earth-worm from its sunless corridors.
It is a law of nature, and grace must provide absolution. So must also the bird-
lover, supposing in his charitable heart that worms and flics delight in being made
over into new and better loved individuals.

Would the bird-lover actually convert this redbreast from the error of his
victual ways, he may do so by substituting cooked or raw food from his own table.
The robin is an apt student of civilization, and adopts the ways of its reformers
with relish. As to tiic statement that robins require a diet of worms to insure life
and growth, we can say that we have raised a whole family on bread and milk
alone with perfect success. True, we allowed them a bit of watermelon in melon
season, but they used it more as a newfangled bath than as a food, actually rolling
in it. and pasting their feathers together with the sticky juice. The farmer's
orciiard is the robin's own patch of ground, and he revels in its varied bounties.
A pair of them know at a glance the very crotch in the apple-tree which grew
three prongs on purpose for their nest. The extreme center, scooped to a thimble's
capacity, suggests the initial post-hole for a proper foundation. The said post
may be placed directly across it, but that does not change the idea. Above is the
parting of the boughs, across whose inverted arches sticks alternate, and so on up.
.And atop of straws and leaves and sticks is the "loving cup" of clay, with its soft
lining of vegetable fiber and grasses. W'hat care the robins that little cover roof?
them and their young? Are they not water birds by nature, and wind birds as
well? (Our pet sat for hours at a time in hot weather emersed to his ears in the
bath, and even sang low notes while he soaked.) Birds of spring freshets and
June winds, they dote on the weather, and bring off their young ones as success-
fully as Hieir neighbors. Wliat if a nest be blown down now and then? The
school-bo}'. in passing, puts it back in its place and sees that every birdling goes
with it ; while the old birds above him. shedding water like a goose, thank him
for his pains.

The orchardist who plants a mulberry-tree in his apple rows, though he him-
self scorns the insipid sweetness of the fruit, ranks with any philanthropist in
that he foresees the needs of a little soul which loves the society of man more
than anything else in the world.

By the planting of the mulberry-tree he plants a thought in the breast of his
little son. *T don't like mulberries, father. What makes you set out a mulberry-
tree in an apple orchard?"

707

"For the robins, my son. Haven't you heard that kick follows the robins?"

"What is luck, father?"

"Luck, my son, is any good thing which people make for themselves and the
folks they think about."

And the little boy sits down on a buttercup cushion and meditates on luck,
while he watches the robins knocking at the doors of the soft-bodied larvze, en-
gaged in making luck for other folks. And the boy's own luck takes the right turn
all on account of his father setting out a mulberry-tree.

Whole school-rooms full of children are known to be after the same sort of
luck when they plant a tree on Arbor Day ; a cherry-tree or mulberry-tree, or even
an apple, in due time is sure to bring forth just the crotch to delight the heart of
mother robin in June. Not that the robins do not select other places than apple-
trees to nest in. An unusual place is quite as likely to charm them. Let a person
interest himself a little in the robin's affairs and he will see startling results by
the summer solstice. An old hat in the crotch of a tree, an inverted sunshade, or
even a discarded scarecrow, terrible to behold, left over from last year and hidden
in the foliage, one and all suggest possibilities to the robins.

Mud that is fresh and sweet is essential to a robin's nest. Stale, bad-smelling,
sour mud isn't fit for use. Sweet, clay-like stuff is what they want. A pack of
twigs made up loosely, soft grass and fiber, all delight the nest-builders, who are
as sure to select a location near by, as they are sure to stay all summer near the
farmer on account of the nearness of food.

Anywhere from four to thirty feet one may find the nests with little trouble,
they are so bulky, all but the delicate inside of them, which is soft as down ; nest-
lining being next thing to nest-peopling — the toes of the little new people finding
their first means of clinging to life by what is next to them. A well-woven lining
gives young robins a delicious sense of safety, as they hold on tight — the instinct
to hold on tight being about the first in any young thing, be it bird or human baby,
except, perhaps, the instinct of holding its mouth open.

Some people who do not watch closely suppose the young robin who holds
its mouth open the longest and widest gets the most food. We are often mistaken
in things. Mother robin understands the care of the young, though she never
read a book about it in all her life. Think of her infant, of exactly eleven days,
leaving the nest and getting about on its own legs, as indeed it does, more to the
astonishment of its own littje self than anybody else. And before the baby knows
it, he is singing with all the rest,

"Cheer up ; cheerily, cheerily, cheer up."
The very same song we heard him sing within the Arctic circle, far up to the snow
line of the Jade Mountains, alternating his song with the eating of juniper berries.

But one might go on forever with the robin as he hops and skips and flies from
the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from Alaska to Mexico and other parts; but one
would never get to the end of loving him.

When poor robin at last meets with disaster and cannot pick himself up again,
in short, is "gone to that world where birds are blest," the leaves shall remember

798

to cover liiiii, while we itnapinc, with the poet who thought it not time and talent
wasted to write an ei)ita|)h to the redbreast.

"Small notes wake from iindergroimd
Where now his tiny hones arc laid.
No prowlinj^ cat with w hiskered face
Ap[)roaches this sequestered place;
Xo school-hoy with his willow how
Shall aim at thee a treacherous blow."

But the funeral of even a robin is a sad event; so we will bring him back in
the spring, for

"There's a call upon the housetop, an answer from the plain.
There's a warble in the sunshine, a twitter in the rain. "

The Bluebird

Alexander Wilson

The pleasing manners and the sociable disposition of this little bird entitle
him to particular notice. As one of the first messengers of spring, bringing the
charming tidings to our very doors, he bears his own recommendation always
along with him, and meets with a hearty welcome from everybody.

Through generally accounted a bird of passage, yet in Pennsylvania so early
as the middle of February, if the weather be open, he usually makes his appear-
ance about his own haunts — the barn, orchard and fenceposts. Storms and deep
snows sometimes succeeding, he disappears for a time, but about the middle of
March is again seen accompanied by his mate, visiting the box in the garden or the
hole in the old apple-tree, the cradle of some generations of his ancestors.

The prcliminariesbeing settled and the spot fixed upon, the Bluebirds begin
to clean out from the old nest the rubbish of the former year, and to prepare for
the reception of their future offspring.

The female lays five, and sometimes six, eggs of a pale blue color, and raises
two and sometimes three broods in a season, the male taking the youngest under
his particular care while the female is again sitting. Their principal food consists
of insects, particularly large beetles and others that lurk among old dead and
decaying trees, as well as upon the groimd. Spiders are also a favorite repast
with them. In the fall they occasionally regale themselves on the berries of the
sour gum and, as winter approaches, on those of the red cedar, and on the fruit
of a rough and hairy vine that runs up and cleaves fast to the trunks of trees.
Ripe persimmons are another of their favorite dishes, and among other fruits
and seeds these are found in their stomachs during the autumn months.

The usual spring and summer song of the Bluebird is a soft, agreeable, and

799

oft-repeated warble, uttered with open quivering wings, and is extremely pleas-
ing. In his motions and general character he has great resemblance to the Robin
Redbreast of Great Britain. Like the latter bird he is known to almost every
child, and shows as much confidence in man by associating with him in summer
as the Redbreast by his familiarity in winter. He is also of a mild and peaceful
disposition, seldom fighting or quarreling with other birds. His societ} is courted
by the inhabitants of the country, and few farmers neglect to provide 1 dt him, in
some suitable place, a snug little summer-house, ready fitted and rent tree. For
this he more than repays them by the cheerfulness of his song, and the mu'titude of
injurious insects he daily destroys.

Toward fall, that is, in the month of October, his song changes to .single
plaintive note, as he passes over the yellow, many-colored woods, and its melan-
choly air recalls to our minds the approaching decay of the face of nature. Even
after the trees are stripped of their leaves he still lingers over his native fields,
as if loth to le&ve them. About the middle or end of November few if any Blue-
birds are seen ; but with every return of mild and open weather we hear their
plaintive note amidst the fields, or in the air, seeming to deplore the devastations
of winter. Indeed the Bluebird appears scarcely ever totally to forsake us, but
to follow fair weather through all its journeyings till the return of spring.

During the summer the Bluebird is found throughout the eastern United
States and as far west as the Rocky Mountains ; it ranges as far north as Nova
Scotia, Ontario and Manitoba. In winter it migrates in flocks from the northern
regions, flying to Cuba and the southern States, where it may be found all winter.
As far north as the latitude of New York a few are generally present throughout
the winter.

800

"The Sparrow''

By Thomas Guiiian

"Cock of the walk" arc you, the caves trough,

And the gutter.
Vou cannot sing a single note of song.

You only sputter.
Cantankerous and savage, a combative

Little cuss.
W ith a cliip ui)on your shoulder, ever ready,

For a fuss.
Without regard for song birds or their right,
To live on earth, you rob their nests,

Just for spite.
All through winter long, in cold,

Snow and sleet.
You have to wallow, day after day, with

Frozen feet.
While Robbins, Swallows, Blue-birds, and the

Meadow Larks,
Are in some warm clime in lovely parks,
And yet I cannot help admire your

Everlasting grit.
Your courage and a little bunch of wrath are you.

And, worst of all,
I sometimes almost think that Satan

Marked your fall.
With satisfaction that you had to take a tumble.
And for all time to come be the bird

Most humble.
Aristocratic you can never be

Among your kind.
When all the nabobs go south you

Are left behind.
The Rluejay, though a thief, he has got

The best of you,
In looks, at least, dressed in his dapper

Suit of blue.
With graceful flight he soars where purest

Air is found,
While you, in mud and mire content.

Hop. on the ground.
Persistence in claiming

"You are it."

801

I love the feathered tribe entire, though it is

Least for you,
Thou Httle outlaw ; not for what you are, but

What you do.

The Everglade Kite {Rostrhamus sociaUUs)
By Gerard Alan Abbott

Length: About 18 inches.

The Everglade Kite, or Snail Hawk, as it is sometimes called, has a very
small range within the borders of the United States, where it is limited to the
swamps and marshes of southern Florida. It also frequents eastern Mexico,
Central America, Cuba, and the eastern portion of South America as far south-
ward as the Argentine Republic.

Its habits are very interesting. Peaceable and sociable at all times, other
birds do not fear them.

An authority, writing of these birds in Florida, says : "Their favorite
nesting sites are swamps overgrown with low willow bushes, the nests usually
being placed about four feet from the ground. They frequent the borders of
open ponds and feed their young entirely on snails. According to my obser-
vations, the female does not assist in the building of the nest. I have watched
these birds for hours. She sits in the immediate vicinity of the nest and watches
while the male builds it. The male will bring a few twigs and alternate this
work at the same time by supplying his mate with snails until the structure is
completed. They feed and care for their young longer than any other birds I
know of, until you can scarcely distinguish them from the adults."

The nest is a flat structure, the cavity being rarely more than two or three
inches in depth, and the whole structure is about twelve or sixteen inches in
diameter and about one-half as high. It is usually placed in low shrubs or
fastened to the rank growth of saw grass, sufficiently low to be secure from
observation. The materials used in its construction are generally dry twigs
and sticks loosely woven together. The cavity may be bare or lined with small
vines, leaves, or dry saw grass.

"Its food, as far as known, consists exclusively of fresh-water univalve
mollusks, which it finds among the water plants at the edges of shallow lakes
and rivers or the overflowed portions of the Everglades."

802

-^

507

EVERGL.AUK Kl IK

(Rostrhamus sociabilis).

- I. Life-size.

Ti'tNT tMt, n K m. VUMfCRC, CtttCMG.

The Beginning of Housekeeping and Where
to Look For the Nests

By Clara Kern Bayliss

Toward lualing time in the spring' male birds assume their most striking
garb and most charming song, and "show otT" in many ways before the females.
I'hc I'Hcker, being a poor singer lint a great drummer, tatoos his love call on the
metal cap of a chinuiey or any sounding-board he can find. The Partridge struts
on a log. inflates his body for a drum, and beats it with his wings. The Blue Jay
bounces himself up and down on a limb and cries "Tee-dlc-dum, A-tec-dlc-dum."
( )ther birds who arc not gifted musicians have very singular and surprising ways
of charming their mates. The dignified Woodcock and the quiet little Horned
Lark take a honeymoon journey alone, flying up and up in a spiral and then
plunging headlong down. Sandhill cranes dance a minuet. Ostriches tread a
stately measure and end in a mad whirl which makes them so dizzy that they
fall to the ground and sometimes break their legs.

Some males help to build the nests ; some help incubate ; while others merely
sit by and sing. Wrens and Shrikes decorate the rim of the nest and conceal the
young with upright, in curving feathers. Hummingbirds ornament with lichens
and mosses. The Blue Grosbeak uses pieces of snakeskin. Robins, Orioles, and
some Flycatchers will use yarns and cloth. The fly-catching Chebec "irons" the
outside of its nest by standing inside and rubbing the outside with its head, first
one side and then the other, like the stropping of a razor.

Some flesh-eating birds, as Hawks and Owls, begin nests in February and
March; but in central Illinois few kinds begin housekeeping before the first of
April. We have three records of Robins that have deposited their eggs by the
18th of April. On May 5th, 1915, in Macomb, three full grown Robins left the
nest in which the clutch must have been complete by April 9th. The latest date
on which we have seen a Robin brooding was August 4th, 1900. The Flicker,
Meadow Lark, Cardinal Blue Jay. Bronze Grackle, Mourning Dove, Phoebe, Blue-
bird and Tufted Titmouse nest by the middle of April. The Brown Thrasher,
Catbird, Towhee and Rose-breasted Grosbeak build about the first of May. The
Yellow Warbler and Cedar Waxwing prefer June, the Cuckoo nests in July;
while the Goldfinch comes last of all, in September. From the middle of May to
the middle of June there are more "going" nests than at any other time.

On ground near lakes: Loon, White Pelican, Cormorant, Herring Gull, Mal-
lard Duck, Kildeer.

On ground in icoods: Whipporwill. Mourning Dove, Quail. Woodcock,
Xighthawk, Song Sparrow, Wilson Thrush or X'eery, Hermit Thrush, and many
of the Warblers.

On ground in fields: Meadow Lark, Quail, Thrasher occasionally. Teal,
Wild Goose, Grouse, Prairie Chicken, Horned Lark, Vesper, Tree, Field, Grass-
hopper and other Sparrows, Junco, Oven Bird, Maryland Yellow-throat, and
Dickcissel.

803

In holes in trees and posts: Wood Duck, Flicker, Woodpeckers, Wren, Blue-
bird, Titmouse, Hoot Owl, several Flycatchers, Nuthatch.

Evergreen tree: Bronzed Grackle, Kinglet, several Warblers.

Platform of sticks in tree: Wood Ibis, M. Dove, Cuckoo.

Floating raft nest: Grebes.

Platform or among zvecds in szvamp: Red-wing Blackbird, Rail, Crane,
Bittern, Marsh Wren.

In high trees along rivers: Heron, Goshawk, Great Horned Owl.

On horizontal branch: Blue Jay, Oriole, Grackle, Tanager, Goldfinch, W'ax-
wing, Vireo.

In burrowed banks: Kingfisher, Bank Swallow.

In clumps of shrubbery: Brown Thrasher, Catbird, M. Dove, Song Spar-
row, Cardinal, Rose-breasted Grosbeak, Shrike, Warblers.

Some of these birds build in places besides the ones mentioned. The Robin,
for instance, nests in all kinds of places, tree, vine, ledge of a house or anywhere,
and cLt any elevation from 2^ to 40 feet. We have seen one try repeatedly to
make a nest stick on a sloping water spout. And how the Robin and Thrasher
must miss the old rail fences ! The Robin makes no effort at concealment. He
will have a score of white cords dangling from his nest in a vine, or a strip of
muslin a yard long calling attention to his home in a tree. Eggs, usually 4 ; blue.

The Catbird, too, will begin by laying a dangling piece of cloth in the crotch
of the tree for foundation to his house. Eggs, 3-5 ; green.

The Brown Thrasher likes a wild crab thicket. Eggs, 3-4 ; pale greenish-
white evenly peppered with brown.

Wren's eggs, 4-7; delicate terra-cotta- white, finely peppered.

Bluebird's eggs, Z-6; limpid white, faintly tinted with blue, like blue water.
Three nests in 1916 had three each. One bird must have alighted skilfully, for
the opening was on the under side of a post used as prop to a fence post.

The two eggs of the Whipporwill and the Nighthawk are speckled and
blotched and hard to distinguish from the pebbles on the ground— or on the flat
roof where the latter bird sometimes deposits hers.

With her bill, the Baltimore Oriole weaves a long sack suspended from a
high outer limb, using thread, hair, grass, rags and paper, all of dull color. A lady
of our acquaintance put out yellow, green and gray yarns, and the Oriole took
only the gray. A farmer tells me he has seen one test binding twine with bill and
claw, and, if it broke, discard it.

The Vireo and Orchard Oriole, also, make pensile nests, but they attach
them so closely to the under side of branching twigs that you might think they
rested on the twigs. Eggs of the former, 3-4, pure white sprinkled with choco-
late; of the latter 4-6, bluish, with specks and zigzag lines of brown.

Out of hemp and grass the Yellow Warbler makes a dainty cup about the
size of an unshucked walnut. Like the two last mentioned it builds out on the
smaller branches. Eggs, 4-5, greenish, spotted with reddish-brown and wreathed
around the larger end with black and lilac.

804

The Mourning Dove cradles its young on the bare ground or on a rough
|jlatforni of sticks in a bush. Eggs 2, inirc white, though Mr. P. \V. .^mith of
Greenville, 111., records sets of three and four.

The Cuckoo makes a nest but little better than the Mourning Dove's. Eggs
3-4, almost green, said sometimes to Ik- laid several days apart so that there are
young in various stages of development.

The beautiful, noisy Golden-winged Woodpecker, or Flicker, pecks a home
in a dead tree or post, meantime uttering notes "like the whetting of a scythe."
Eggs 6-10, white. There is a record of a female, robbed of one eacii day, that
laid 37, resting fourteen days in the meantime; and of another laying 71 in 77)
days.

The Meadow Lark's nest is a great satisfaction because you always know
just where to find it — ajtcr you have found it. It is always on the ground, always
in deep grass, always under a tussock of grass, always with a cute little path
no longer than the owner's body, in front of the door. It may be very near to
your house. One pair last summer raised a brood of four between two city
houses ; another, within five feet of a sidewalk where people and dogs were con-
tinually passing; still another pair in an isolated meadow deserted their pretty
nest with six beautiful white eggs, and there it remained, undisturbed, for sev-
eral weeks.

The Quail lays 10-20 white eggs so pointed that they roll in a circle and
cannot be blown out of the slight depression.

The only nest of a Goldfinch we have ever seen to know it, was placed
five feet high in the branches of a tall Canada thistle. Four bluish-white eggs
had hatched, but one bird died and dried in the nest. The others took wing on
September 21st.

You may look for colonies of Red-winged Blackbirds' nests in swampy
places and as low as 18 inches from the ground. There will usually be 4 bluish-
white eggs with black hieroglyphs at the larger end. Sometimes the nests are in
bushes near the water ; but you can always tell when you are nearing them by
the way the old ones fly and cry high overhead.

You will look in vain for the Cowbird's nest for he has none. The female
spies upon the homemaking of other birds and deposits 1, 2. or 3 white, choco-
late-spotted eggs in the other's nest where they are reared to the death or
detriment of the foster mother's young. It is strange that a bird can be thus im-
posed upon. The Yellow Warbler refuses to incubate the alien t^'g and builds
another nest on top of the first even when, by doing so, she has to shut out one or
more of her own eggs. A two-story nest of this kind is in the Western Normal,
and there is a four-story one in the Field Museum of Chicago.

805

The Bewick Wren {Thryomanes hewicki)
By W. F. Henninger

Description.— .-^rfu//^; Above, dark olive-brown, or rufous-brown with an
olive tinge ; the rump with downy, concealed, white spots ; wings showing at least
traces of dusky barring — sometimes complete on tertials ; tail blackish or con-
cealed portions, distinctly and finely barred with blackish on exposed portions ;
the outer pairs of feathers white-tipped and showing white barring, incipient or
complete on terminal third ; a narrow" white superciliary stripe, and an indistinct
dark stripe through eye ; under parts grayish white, dark tinged on sides and
flanks ; under tail-coverts heavily barred with dusky ; bill dark brown above,
lighter below; culmen slightly decurved. Length 5.00-5.50 (127.-139.7); wing
2.08 (52.8); tail 2.01 (51.1); bill .53 (13.5).

Recognition Marks. — Warbler size ; known from House Wren by supercil-
iary stripe, and whiter under parts, mostly unbarred ; more deliberate in its
movements.

Nest, anywhere in holes or crannies about buildings, posts, brush-heaps, etc. ;
of tw'igs, lined with grasses and miscellaneous soft materials ; not distinguishable
from those of 7. aedon. Eggs, 4-6, sometimes 7, white speckled — usually not so
heavily as in T. aedon — with cinnamon or rufous-brown, and purplish, uniformly,
or chiefly in wreath near larger end. Average size, .66x.48 (16.8x12.2).

General Range. — Eastern United States, west to the eastern border of the
Plains and eastern Texas ; rare east of the Alleghanies north of Maryland and
Delaware ; north irregularly in the Mississippi Valley to southern Minnesota
Migratory only along the northern border of its range.

Bewick Wren today is the Wren of Southern Ohio. Since his arrival the
House Wren has "left the country" and has been entirely replaced by this better
songster and thriftier species. When the chilling blasts of February, 1899, howled
over the Scioto Valley bottoms and crept into every ravine of the hills, the ther-
mometer standing at 30 degrees below zero, when Goldfinches and Sparrows
dropped out of the sky, exhausted and frozen, the cheerful voice of the Bewick
Wren was loudly ringing from some favorite perch. How I had to envy him !
While man and beast were seeking shelter from this cold, and the earth was
groaning under its burden of snow, he, undaunted, gay and light-hearted, was
singing in anticipation of the joyous springtime. And again when trees and
flowers bloom, or when midsummer's sun is blazing down in unabated fury, his
song greets us at our home. Not a voluble merry chatter, like the House Wren's,
but clear, strong and cheery, easily heard for a quarter of a mile, — such is
the song of Bewick's Wren. Easily distinguished from the former he has
the same teasing ways about him, — now peeping into some corner, now examining
the woodpile, now crawling into a knot-hole of the smoke-house, creeping forth
like a mouse at the next moment, whisking his erectly-carried tail, watching you
carefully though fearlessly, he all of a sudden mounts some fence-posts, pours

806

561

BEWICK'S WREN.

(Thryothorus bewickii).

Life-size

•0#rRi«MT 1101, IT A. *. wuvrcao, CMICiM.

forth his proud nictaUic notes, drops down iiiKj tlie diickcn yard, disappears in
the pij( pen, mockingly scolds at you, sings again, and is wilHng to keep this game
up all day. We do not know which to admire more, his beautiful song or his
confidence in man.

The height of these actions is reached at the mating season, for he is the
bird that makes life sweet about the old log cabins, deserted woodpiles and half-
destroyed orchards. Almost any place in the neighi)orhood of man is chosen
for a nesting site. The arm-pit of an old coat, old tin and coffee cups, log cabin
nooks and corners, often contain his nest. This is rather bulky, composed of
sticks, grass, wool, horse and cow hairs, quail and chicken feathers, snake skins
and other rubbish. From four to eleven eggs are found in it in April and
again in June. They are white with various spots of lilac-gray and brown, and
my observations lead me to the belief that the eggs of the older birds are more
heavily spotted than those of the young ones, and the spots are also better dis-
tributed over the entire surface of the eggs, while those of younger birds show
more minute spots, and these generally in a wreath around the blunt end of the
egg. In about two weeks the eggs arc hatched and a jolly crowd of youngsters
soon joins the parents in their insect-hunt, and the next year we have the pleasure
of hearing still oftener this bold, bright songster in his native haunts. May
the Bewick Wren live and thrive forever in the rugged hills of southern Ohio, to
bring joy and cheerfulness to the hearts of men!

The Robin's Counsel

By Millie Noel Long

Through a wilderness of doubt,
Fears within and foes without,
Comes the robins thrilling shout,

"Cheer ye ! cheer ye !

Hear me ! hear me !

"I have traveled fast and far,

I have braved the storm-cloud's power,

Met new dangers every hour, —

Cheer ye ! cheer ye !

Hear ye ! hear ye !

"Kept by God's almighty power,

Heeding duty every hour.

There's no time to fret and glower, — -

Hear ye ! hear ye !

Cheer ye ! cheer ye !"

807

The Cost of a Feather

By Mrs. Mary Smith Riley

In pleading the cause of my "little brother of the air" today, let me impress
upon you that while my theme demands frankness of expression, the personal
element does not enter in. I am absorbed in my subject. I am never conscious
of this or that one wearing birds, and I pray you if you have them on your hat,
forget them while I speak, and let no sensitive, inhospitable spirit obtrude itself
between us. Let us reason together. You are more to me than many birds, and
if you will grant to me the loving loyalty I bring to you we shall be closer
together, and better friends when I am done than when I began. I am going to
lean hard upon your woman's sympathy, for mine is not altogether a congenial
task. My errand does not take me by the "primrose path."

I have come to plead for the preservation of something infinitely dearer
to me and more precious to the world than birds : its ideals of womanhood !
And truly, friends, they are in imminent peril. Woman has stood through the
centuries as embodied tenderness and sympathy. Her "gentleness has made her
great." Painting and sculpture represent her with the deep, maternal breast
within which little children and helplessness everywhere hide their tearful faces.
About her knees humanity clings for refuge from cruelty and wrong. She is
Portia, when men's arguments fail in courts of justice, and the Bible hath it
that only the Father above is "tenderer than a mother."

This is the world's reverent ideal of a woman ; the pillow upon which its
'^u't has slept undisturbed until the present.

And now, a cry is heard in our land, in all lands, that this ideal the world's
cherished possession, is being slain by woman's own hand. A whisper has risen
to a menace — I do not exaggerate — for do we not know that in this day, when
the nations of the earth are meeting together in an effort to hasten the consum-
mation of peace upon earth ; in this which has been called the "Woman's Cen-
tury," we are appealing to the courts of justice to protect one of the most innocent,
beautiful and useful of His creations, against the cruel vanity of woman, and,
women of the Federation, unless you, and I, and all good women use our influ-
ence against this fashion, the danger is imminent that ours will be a birdless
world! From seashore and forest and field the wail is swelling that where once
there were thousands upon thousands of useful ornamental birds, some localities
have been entirely depopulated. Where once the islands about Florida were white
with the beautiful egrets, one is now rarely seen. A picture on exhibition in New
York by the great painter, George Inness, represents a forest interior in Florida
with a solitary egret ; a prophecy of no light import.

The press, always the champion of the helpless and oppressed, pronounces
the wearing of birds "degrading" and declares that women can no longer plead
ignorance, since this alarm has sounded through the civilized world. The pulpit
expresses amaze that women, supposed to be more tender than men, will allow
cruelties simply fiendish to be carried on at the beck of fashion. I quote an

808

eminent clergyman, wIuj <lcclares thai 'it they underhland what misery in the
bird reahn this costs, the world must lose its respect for them." These are bold
words, dear friend^. Ho yn w. .iKJcr I say the world's ideals of women are in
grave peril?

I have referred to the J.ond(iM clergyman who thus addressed his congrega-
tion. "Some of you, my friends, followers of the gentle Christ, come to worship
wearing aigrette plumes. Do you realize that this aigrette is called the 'maternity
plume' because it only grows on the bird at the time of nesting, and to obtain
one such feather involves not only the cruel death of the beautiful mother heron,
but the whole nestful of newly born birds? What a price to pay! What a
travesty upon religion to stand and sing 'O, all ye fowls of the air ye the Lord,
praise Him and magnify Him forever!''

Dear friends, how can we pray "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on
earth as it is in heaven'' when we are wearing an aigrette on our hat? Do we
not know that we hinder the coming of His kingdom upon earth and the con-
summation of His will when we needlessly inflict pain? Is it His "will" that
these snowy nuptial plumes shall be torn from the still living, quivering body
for our so-called adornment? Was it His will that that good man and kind
husband and father, Guy Bradley, who had been established warden over a
little colony of these birds in Florida, that they might not be utterly lost to us,
should be killed by these brutal plume hunters that we might possess these
ornaments? His "will," who is "tenderer than a mother"? And can we
doubt we are fostering the lower instincts of the men and bovs who are mur-
dering these innocents the world over for our sake? Is it not of such stuff that
criminals are made ?

And, friends, what of our husbands and sons, and their ideals of woman-
hood, and the risk we run of falling from our high place in their reverence?
They understand now the brutal methods by which the aigrette is obtained, yet
we wives and mothers dare to look into their faces with the satin breast of
a tern or sea gull shading our unshamed eyes !

Do you remember how stirred with righteous indignation the souls of decent
people were over the disgraceful scenes at the Long Island shooting matches
about eight years ago, and how that little, sensitive-souled boy who witnessed the
revolting pastime went into convulsions and became insane over the memory of
the massacre of the doves?

"And tliis is the dove, whose progenetrix flew
Over world-whelming water the Earth to renew !
With crippled wing drooping, its beak shot away —
A crime, not at midnight, but done in full day.
And this is a land that Humanity peoples :
And whose heaven is hid by confusion of steeples !"

Our attitude toward the bird is against our American traditions, our national
spirit, and our boasted ideas of liberty. North, South, East, West, our gates swing
wide — too wide — to whosoever will enter. Here the stranger is admitted to full

809

familyship, his rights protected, his children educated, and the harvests of our
fields are his to share, though he often applies the firebrand to his benefactor's
house. Yet against our upright little "Citizen Bird," our neighbor and bene-
factor, an ornament and delight to our world, we are waging a crusade more
unnatural and unjust than any the world has known since the days of Herod;
and the "gentler sex" is waging it!

In all ages until now the bird has been loved and protected. The ancients
revered them. Fable and song have immortalized them, little children regard
them with ecstacy, and in all the world I have never heard of a person who
did not love the birds. They enrich the imagery of the Book of Books, and
we have chosen a bird as the symbol of the strength and liberty of our country.
Upon our coins of silver and gold the eagle, whom the ancients named "the
Bird of Jove," the monarch of the empyrean air, sits in proud power, and has
come to be for us the "Bird of Freedom."

Yet even the quills of this majestic bird, whose symbolism should set it
apart from common or profane associations by every American woman, is
degraded to the frivolous use of a shopping hat, jauntily thrust through the
ribbon band, stripped of its fine distinction — a graceless figure ! No meaner
uses should the plume of an eagle serve than to sign a patriotic people's declara-
tion of independence, or adorn a hero's helmet!

In Cornwall there is an old superstition that to hurt or kill a robin or
wren brought retribution in the shape of a friend's death. Let us encourage
this superstition in America.

And is it not questionable, apart from prejudice or sentiment, whether dead
birds do really adorn; whether it is really becoming to any woman "to wear like
the savage the scalps of the slain?" We are not usually enamoured of the
suggestion of death; and this stark little corpse out of which the beauty has
been twisted, the staring bead eyes, the rumpled plumage, the poor little beak
that will never again part in rapturous song; the wonderful wings we have
robbed of their matchless grace of flight— are these lovely?

"We that never can make it
Yet dare to unmake it,
Dare take it and break it and throw it away."

If it were only bad for the complexion, or caused horrid lines and blemishes
to wear these birds, there might then be an immediate remedy for this evil
fashion ; but the aigrette is beautiful and becoming in its airy grace, and so the
massacre goes on ! But I have yet to see a middle-aged woman to whom wings
and quills are becoming or did not accentuate the lines and defects, and by mid-
dle-aged I mean fifty-five or sixty;; not being a newspaper reporter who calls
fifty "aged."

I know all the soothing little emollients which we apply to our consciences
when they hurt. I have heard again and again the specious arguments, an3
the weather-beaten subterfuges still stand.

810

"It is iKJt :i hit worse," \vc say, "to kill hir(l>> to wear for ornament than to
eat as food ; we kill the poor little lamhs, and seals, and kids, and furry things ; we
should never kill a hird ourselves, of course, and we don't tell men to do it; hut
they are already dead when we huy them ; some one else would purchase them
if we didn't ; hesides we already had these aigrettes, and hate to thrtnv them
away ; and anvway we think ours are not real aigrettes — just whaleh(jne ; mo>t
of the feathers women wear are from harnyard fowls ; and don't you think
all this talk ahout the cruelty is generally exaggerated? I d(jn't helieve all
I read ahout it, and as for the men. who do all the killing, and some of it
for mere pastime — well, they had hetter keep still!"

I'Viends, it is not exaggerated: the half has not heen told, and the world
refuses to "keep still."

Good taste and mere cold relinement should make us hesitate to provoke
such criticism as the New York Tribune — one of numhcrless newspapers — pro-
nounces, where it says: "For women to persist in the cruel and harbarous
fashion in face of all the j)ublishcd facts is to enact a defiance, or so it must be
interpreted."

Have you read, and did you shiver as we did over the action of the forestry
committee of women in St. Louis, to whom the State Federation referred the
Audubon pledge? Utterly blind to, and apparently ignorant of, the economic
relation between the insect, the bird and the tree which it is supposed to be the
object of a forestry committee to preserve, the secretary airily remarked: "I
must refuse to subscribe in that sort of thing, because if I want to wear an
aigrette I shall certainly do so, and my conscience won't hurt me a particle," and
the chairman agreed that "we must refuse to advocate the pledge, for I intend
to wear one of those very things on my hat" — and the newspaper that chronicled
this decision added: "The club women of St. Louis will uphold the forestry
committee in this action."

It is the manner of this decision, the effrontery, the defiance of public senti-
ment by women, that hurts most in this occurrence. I think if our "Recording
Angel" has not grown too hardened to weep she must have shed tears over this
record. I tell you I am acquainted with grief, but I have rarely experienced more
poignant sadness and shame than when I read this. I felt, I say it in all rever-
ence, some faint touch of the horror that the people of old experienced when
darkness fell upon the land that day the Son of God was crucified. I felt that
those St. Louis women were nailing the world's ideals upon a cross !

I turned with something like a sob of relief from that cricifixion scene of
the forestry committee of St. Louis to the noble example of Mme. Lilli Lehman,
the world- famed singer, who long ago began her humane battle for, and raised
her beautiful voice in defense of the birds. She has come to even deny herself
feather pillows out of a gentle tenderness for the birds. She reserves no sacrifice
on their behalf.

Extreme, do you say? Perhaps, if we can carry tenderness too far in a
world that needs it so much; but I would to God there were more such gentle

811

extremists to join in this holy war. The world need not fear for its beautiful
ideals then, and the gain would be immeasurable. Lilli Lehman is a true artist,
and it is the artist in her that protests against this barbarous fashion.

It is not out purpose to coldly compute the unspeakable economic value of
the bird to our orchards and fields and gardens. It has been truly said, if women
are not moved by the sentiment in this question, no other appeal would avail.
Today, friends, let us exalt in their beauty and aesthetic charm these singing
orchids that flutter among our forest trees ! These winged jew'els of sapphire,
nothing in heaven above, or earth beneath, or the waters under the earth half
so beautiful as this rare thing we call a bird, and which the daughters of Eve
are using not to uplift but to debase !

Have you never said "thank you!" to a vesper-sparrow singing his pensive
little evensong on a fence, or to a hermit thrush in some forest cathedral, when
his heavenly note brought your soul to its knees, and the angel in you leaned out
to adore ?

And could you wear a bird on your hat after that service?

Dear friends, I thank you for your patience. It is for love of women that
I speak. I know full well what impetus you can give to this pure reform, this
womanly service, if you but will it so. Do not let the opportunity pass. Oh, you
women of good and compassionate hearts ! Let us yield to the better angel of
our nature and rise to the entertainment of the thought that "the evil which we
could prevent and do not, is in that degree our fault" ; and let us make John
Ruskin's declaration our own.

Clarke's Nutcracker {Nucijroga coiumbiana)

By Amos W. Butler

Clarke's Nutcracker, or Clarke's Crow, is smaller than our true crows but
larger than the jays. It is a shy, cautious bird inhabiting the mountainous regions
of the United States and Canada. Comparatively little has been written about
the habits of this bird owing to its shyness and retiring disposition. Naturalists
find it difficult to visit the breeding grounds while the birds are laying their eggs
or rearing their young.

Their food consists almost entirely of pine seeds, which they dexterously
extract from cones, hence the range of the birds from year to year varies,
according to the abundance of pine cones. The female guards her eggs so
closely that it is possible to remove the bird from her nest with the hand. Like
the Canada jay and magpie, the nutcracker is possessed of great cunning, and
is a restless, uneasy fellow.

In March and April when the snow is still deep on the mountain slopes, the
nutcracker is constructing a warm nest in the densest part of some coniferous
tree. In appearance the nest might readily be mistaken for that of a squirrel,
being a substantial, warm structure in which the birds lay two to four eggs.

812

580

CLARKE'S NUTCRACKER.

(Nucifraga columbiana)

About H Life-size.

The California VVoodpecker

He is a handsome bird, and if there were not so many of his species he
would attract a great deal of attention. He has a bright red head, black and
white body, and a needle-pointed tail. Ihe tail supports him in a perpendicular
position on the side of a tree while he is hammering, or rather, chiseling, a
hole in its bark.

All woodpeckers can drive deep holes into trees or stumps, but the Cali-
fornia woodpecker surpasses them all as a hole-digger ; he not only digs the hole
l)ut he fills it up with a nut or an acorn.

While a great many other birds have the hole-digging instinct, there are
few of them that possess the hole-filling instinct. The blue jays and the
squirrels have a habit of accumulating supplies, and you may see them, almost
any day in autumn, snatching the acorns from twigs and branches. The same
instinct prompts this woodpecker to lay in his stores of acorns. Some peojjle
say that he never resorts to these supplies again, but just lays them up without a
thought as to the future. Rut nature does not work blindly, but always with
some wise purpose.

This bird can drill a hole in the very hardest wood, and at this business
he is employed almost all the time. The holes are usually made in rows, at
regular distances apart, about the size of an acorn. He has been known to
surround a giant red-wood tree, over twenty feet in circumference, with rings
of holes one above another, from the root to the topmost limb, for over 200
feet. I say "he"' did it, but I mean, of course, generation after generation of
them, for many, many years.

After he has got the hole to his liking, he flies oft to the nearest oak tree
and secures an acorn, which he brings to the storehouse tree and places in the
little "safety deposit" he has made for it. It fits exactly, and so, inserting it
sharp end fir^t. he hit^ it repeatedly with his beak and drives it in to stay till
needed.

So long as the woodpecker confines his harvesting to the acorns no one,
except the Indians, who frequently store them up for winter food, will have
anything to say. But he likes nuts as well, and a story is told of a family of
woodpeckers that completely stripped a small grove of almond trees. The
owner thought he would have a good crop, and when the time came to gather
it, there was not a nut on any tree ! One of the boys found an old oak partly
decayed, and riddled with holes from top to bottom. In each hole was an
almond ! The tree was cut down, and the man secured several bushels of
almonds, but the woodpeckers scolded him loudly. — F. A. Ober, St. Nicholas.

813

The Green Woodpecker {Picus viridus)

By W. Leon Dawson

Nature has appointed the woodpeckers conservators of the wood of old trees, furnished
them admirably for their office, and so formed their habits, that an old tree is an Eden to
them, fraught with safety, and redolent of plenty and fatness.

— Robert Mudie.

Not unlike its relatives in our own country, the beautiful Green Woodpecker
of foreign lands finds in a tree "a castle, a pasture, a larder, a nursery, an
alarm-drum and a lute." It frequents the ancient forests of Europe, Asia, where
it is even found to some extent in the intemperate climate of Siberia, and in
northern Africa. As it is a bird of wide distribution, found in many countries
and known to all classes of people, it has been given many common names. Space
forbids an enumeration of all of these names, but a few of the more common
ones may be mentioned. Some of them, such as Hewhole, Pick-a-tree, Awl-bird
and Nickapecker, are eminently suggestive of the birds' habits, and the names
High Hoe, Popinjay, Yoppingall and Whittle are not without meaning.

The Green Woodpecker is quite frequently called the Rain-bird, or Rain-
fowl, for it is very active and quite noisy as the "droughts begins to soften," a
short time before a shower. At this time its harsh note, which has been described
as sounding like "glu' glu' glu, gluck," is much more in evidence. It is natural
that this bird should be more active as the moisture increases, for in the time
of long drought the plant tissues are more or less hardened by the evaporation
of the liquids confined wdthin them and many insects, especially those that live
in woody tissues, are less active or many remain quiescent. Happy indeed is the
bird when the accumulating moisture awakens the activities of the plant, softens
its tissues and thus enabled the insects to again seek food. "The insects and
the worms come out; the birds feed; new life returns; the tuned instrument is
soon in use; the groves are in song the livelong night." There are a number of
the insect-eating birds that seem to augur the coming rain by increased activity,
especially after a long dry season, and some of these have also been called
rain-birds.

In parts of England this Woodpecker is called Yaffle or Yaffil, because to
some people its notes sound like a laugh. The poet has referred to this in the
following lines :

The sky-lark in ecstacy sang from a cloud,

The chanticleer crow'd and the Yaffil laugh'd loud.

Another popular name, but one that is used with less frequency, is Wood-
spite. The first word of this name has reference to the green color of the foliage
of the woods it frequents. The word spite is probably a modification of the
German word specht — a woodpecker. It has also been suggested that this name
may have arisen from the vigorous strokes of the bird's bill against the tree
appearing like an exhibition of spite.

Like other members of the woodpecker family, the bird of our illustration

814

596

(-tRKEN WOODPECKKR (EurupH

(Picus viridis).

About ■• 6 Life-size .

only ascends trees by moving obliquely and in spiral. As it ascends, it carefully
examines the bark, ta|)i)inK and listeninj^' as it i)roj,'resscs. On reaching the top
of the tree it flies downward to the base of another tree to again repeat the
process of ascending, tapping and listening. Occasionally it is seen in hedges,
and in severe weather it may seek its food in the walls of old buildings and in
cultivated trees. Its hard and sharj) bill enables it to penetrate even the hard
wood exterior of trees in its search for in.sects in the somewhat decayed portions
within. When the work of its bill has opened a passage to its prey its tongue is
used for the extraction of the food. It is an extensile organ and barbed with
reflected bristles. It catches insects found on the surface of the bark or upon
the ground bv the use of the tongue only and the rapidity with which it is
moved is wonderful. Reverend F. O. Morris describes its tongue when in motion,
as having "the appearance of a silver ribbon, or rather, from its transparency,
a stream of molten glass, and the ra[)idity with which it is protruded and with-
drawn is so great that the eye is dazzled in following its motions ; it is flexible
in the highest degree."

The Green Woodpecker not only feeds upon the grubs that bore in the
wood of trees, but also upon the various insects that it finds upon the surface. It
will also feed upon the eggs of insects, and ants are dainty morsels of food and
of these it destroys a large number, seeking them upon the ground as well as
on the trees. Bew^ick says that the Green Woodpecker will not only use it bill
and tongue in its search for ants on the ground, but will also use its feet to
scratch away the leaves and dirt.

The Green Woodpecker nests either in a natural hole in a tree or in one
that it has excavated. It never attacks a tree for this purpose that is perfectly
sound, but only those that are more or less decayed within. Here the labor
is light and there is usually an abundance of food near by. Both sexes assist in
the work of excavating through the healthy exterior wood and so rapid are the
strokes of their bills that it is impossible to count them. The holes are not lined
and the eggs are laid on the powdered decayed wood in the bottom or upon a
few chips that are left from the chiseling of the hard wood. The young birds
leave the nest and run on the tree before they are able to fly and it is said
that if they are taken from the tree at this time they may be raised in captivity
and will become quite tame.

The woodpeckers are among our most useful birds. Though they do not
feed to anv extent upon the insect pests of the meadow, the grain field and the
garden, they do destroy a large number of the borers and other insects that are
injurious to trees. "The aged tree is all to the woodpecker and the woodpecker
is much to the aged tree."

815

The Harris's Sparrow {ZonotricMa querula)

By I. N. MitcheU

Length : 7^ inches.

Dr. Coues has said of the Harris's Sparrow that it may be regarded as the
most characteristic bird of the Missouri region. Its range is mainly confined
to the central United States, reaching from Illinois on the east to Middle Kansas
and the Dakotas on the west. North and south its range extends from the
interior of British America to Texas. During its migrations it travels in small
flocks which suddenly appear in patches of shrubbery where it feeds for a time
and soon disappears as quietly as it came. It enjoys the undergrowth and
shrubs that are found in ravines and along the banks of streams; An interesting
habit, that does not fail to make Harris's Sparrow a conspicuous object, is
that of perching, when disturbed, on some high branch of a shrub in order
that it may obtain an uninterrupted view of its surroundings and of the intruder.

An observer, who has studied the habits of the species as it passes through
the state of Iowa during its migrations, says : "This beautiful Sparrow is one of
the commonest of the Fringillidse that pass through the State in spring and fall,
associating at such times with the other sparrows and finches and frequenting
similar haunts. Its notes in the fall are a simple, loud chirp, not distinguishable
from that of the white-throated sparrow and occasionally a low sweet warble.
In the spring it has a curious song, beginning very much like that of the latter
bird but ending in a few harsh, drawling notes, sounding like a faint mimicry of
the scream of the night hawk and totally unlike the first part of the song."

This Sparrow seems to have a happy disposition. Colonel Goss says : "They
commence singing early in the spring, and upon warm, sunshiny days their song
can be heard almost continually, as one after the other pours forth its pleasing,
plaintive, whistling notes, in musical tone much like the white-throated sparrow,
but delivering in a widely different song."

Mr. Nehrling observed it in Texas, during the month of November, where
it was associated with juncos, white-crowned and field sparrows, in flocks con-
sisting of thousands of individuals. He caught several of the Harris's Sparrows
and confined them in cages. They became tame and he fed them on various
insects, kaffir corn and canary seed.

This Sparrow is of large size and when dressed in its summer plumage it
is a strikingly beautiful bird.- The glossy black of its crown and throat are
made prominent by the bright coat of the usual sparrow mixture of colors"
that covers the remainder of the body.

But little is known of the breeding habits of this Sparrow. Its nests are
built in the northern part of its range, probably only in the interior of British
America. The only authentic record of its breeding range is that of Mr. Edward
A. Preble, who found an adult male and female in company with young just from
the nest, at Fort Churchill.

Seven common species of swallows are found within the limits of the United

816

5oo

HARRIS'S SPARROW.

(Zonotnchia querula).

Life-sizp.

COPmiGHT itOI. B» «• V*. MUMrORO. CflCiOO

States, four of which have abandoned to sonic extent their primitive nesting
habits and have attached themselves to the abodes of man.

In the eastern part of the country the barn swallow now builds exclusively
under roofs, having entirely abandoned the rock caves and cliffs in which it
formerlv nested. More recently the cliff swallow has found a better nesting
site under the eaves of buildings than was afTorded by the overhanging clifls
of earth or stone which it once used and to which it still resorts occasionally in
the East and habitually in the unsettled West. The martin and white-bellied, or
tree, swallow nest either in iiouses supplied for the purpose, in abandoned nests
of woodpeckers, or in natural crannies in rocks. The northern violet-green swal-
low, the rough-winged swallow, and the bank swallow still live in practically
such places as their ancestors chose.

Field observation convinces an ordinarily attentive person that the food of
swallows must consist of the smaller insects captured in mid-air or picked from
the tops of tall grass or weeds. This observation is borne out by an examination
of stomachs, which shows that the food is made up of many small species of
beetles which are much on the wing; many species of mosquitoes and their
allies, together with large quantities of flying ants; and a few insects of similar
kinds. Most of these are either injurious or annoying, and the numbers destroyed
by swallows are not only beyond calculation but almost beyond imagination.

Unlike many other groups of birds, the six species of swallows found in the
Eastern States extend in a practically unchanged form across the continent,
where they are reinforced by the northern, or Pacific coast, violet-green swallow.

It is a mistake to tear down from the eaves of a barn the nest of a colony of
cliff swallows, for so far from disfiguring a building they make a picturesque
addition to it, and the presence of swallows should be encouraged by every
device. It is said that cliff and barn swallows may be induced to build their
nests in a particular locality, otherwise suitable, by providing a quantity of
mud to be used by them as mortar. Barn swallows may also be encouraged by
cutting a small hole in the gable of the barn, while martins and white-bellied
swallows will be grateful for boxes like those for the bluebird, but placed in a
higher situation.

S17

The Bush -Tit {Psaltrlparus minimus)

By F. E. L. Beal

Length: Zyi inches.

The Bush-Tit or Least Titmouse belongs to the large bird family, Paridae.
The species of this family are represented by the titmice, nuthatchets and chick-
adees. In distribution, the family is quite cosmopolitan, and contains several
species that are noted for the peculiar and beautiful nests that they build. The
majority of the species, however, choose, as a site for their home, holes in trees,
or in fence rails and posts, or in the timbers of old buildings. These cavities
are neatly and warmly lined with a thick matting of vegetable down, animal hair
and feathers. The homes of the true titmice are found in such places.

The Bush-Tits of the Pacific coast of the United States, as well as nearly
all the other species of long-tailed titmice, build wonderful nests which are pensil
and exceedingly large, when the size of the birds is considered. Minimus, the
specific name of the Bush-Tit which we illustrate, is an appropriate name, for
the bird is scarcely larger than our common humming bird. In the forests of
the Pacific coast, it is an abundant and familiar bird, and its gentle, though active,
nature endears it to all observers of bird life. It is said that at times it is so
intent in its search for insect food that it is perfectly oblivious to its surroundings
and may be easily taken alive. By imitating its call-notes, a number of Bush-Tits
may always be attracted to the vicinity of the intruder.

The Bush-Tits are usually seen in small flocks, and the birds, while hunting
for insects on the tree foliage, will constantly utter their call-notes. Though it is
seldom that two nests are found very near together, yet if one pair is frightened
and utters an alarm-note, a number of others will soon appear in the vicinity.
If one of a flock is killed, great anxiety is shown by all the rest. They gather
around and utter a call that seems almost pathetic, and flying a short distance,
while still uttering the call, seem to invite the dead companion to follow. So
profound is their anxiety and so earnest is their effort to arouse t4ie dead bird,
that the presence of a person is hardly noticed.

The nest of the Bush-Tit is an elaborate affair about eight inches long and
three inches in diameter, and in form quite like a long purse. It is suspended
from the branches of any tree that suits the fancy of the birds, and is seldom
more than five or six feet above the ground. The structure is a woven mass
of twigs, moss, bark fibers, leaves and lichens. The entrance is near the top and
sheltered by a cover or roof of woven moss and lichens, and also by the foliage
of twigs from which it is suspended. The opening is further strengthened by a
strongly woven ring. An observer, describing the interior of a nest, says : "The
passageway, at a distance of two inches within the opening, suddenly contracts
and its cource from being horizontal, descends perpendicularly to the bottom of
the nest. The narrow passage below this neck-like contraction, as well as the
whole structure itself, again expands, growing larger as it descends, and the
lower portion of the nest takes the shape of a cylindrical pouch, three inches in

818

BUSH-TIT.

(Psaltriparns mi minus;.

I-ife-sjze.

diameter at its j,'reatcst cnlargcinc-nt. The length of the passageway is about six
inches." It seems almost impossible that two tiny birds can build in a short
time such an elaborate and so large a nest. Even the gathering of the materials
must require a large amount of labor. It has been suggested by several observers
that the nest is not the result of the labor of a single pair of birds, but that
the whole flock unite their energies in its construction.

The notes of the Bush-Tit well illustrate the ditTerence between the call-
notes and danger signals of some of the smaller birds. Mr. John J. Williams, in an
article on "Common and Special Call Notes," published in a recent issue of the
"Condor," speaks of the Bush-Tit's notes, lie says: "Why these mites of
birds should use a warning signal when near human beings, is beyond me, as
they are practically unmolested by them at any time, yet such is the case. Here
they flit incessantly, in small companies, from one bush to the next over the
bush-covered hillsides, passing rapidly along, usually on a straight course, com-
pletely absorbed in the search for their minute insect food and uttering a con-
tinuous chorus of fine lisping 'tsit it it tsee ee ee.' Frequently I have heard them
coming some distance off, and have placed myself in the open, close to their
line of travel, in order to observe their actions better. Nearer they come until
they are within arm's reach, and their call notes still sound as merrily as before.
Suddenly one of them recognizes in me something strange and unusual. Not
a move have I made, and yet first one and then another gives a ^^''arning note,
an imperative little 'tswit-tswit-tswit,' and as if by magic, they pass aroupd
me and some little distance away. Not one has flown directly away from me.
but for the sake of safety they have changed their course temporarily. In a
minute or so their warning notes cease, they feel easier and their cheery little
call-notes sound forth again as tjiey resume their original direction through the
bushes."

The Habit of the American

Goldfinch {Spinus tnstis)
By Gerard Alan Abbott

The names Goldfinch and Wild Canary are applied indiscriminately by
the casual observer to a score of different birds. Some time ago I overheard the
following conversation :

"Oh, what a pretty bird. Did you see it?"

"No, what was it?"

"Why, I don't know. It had some yellow on it, and was rather small," con-
tinued the observer.

"Must be a Wild Canary," responded the second party.

Similar conclusions are not infrequently arrived at, when some warbler,
sparrow, or flycatcher chances in the path of an inexperienced but enthusiastic
bird admirer.

In the United States our true Goldfinch, or Wild Canary, remains with us
the whole year, and is known in various phases of plumage according to the
seasons of the year. The charming ways of a devoted pair of these hardy
creatures should render them easy of identification at all times.

Few farm orchards or thistle patches are without a pair of these little birds.
The male, with a voice equal in tone and quality to his beautiful plumage of
black and yellow, finds a warm place in the heart of every bird-lover, naturalist,
and agriculturist. These are not the only virtues possessed by the Goldfinch.
He is of great economic value, and the number of seeds of the thistle, the
dandelion and other noxious plants which these birds destroy, is astounding.

The female is less vivacious than her mate, but she has that same sweet
call note, so full of expression. Their voices have always impressed me as
having something human about them. Goldfinches are fond of each other's
society, and on many a summer day have I whiled away the hours witnessing
the movements of these birds. Their flight is conducted in a peculiar, undulatory
manner, as both sexes dart back and forth above the tree tops, whose dense
foliage shelters many a nest of treasures. Twittering incessantly while on the
wing, their life appears one perpetual volume of happiness.

. Spring passes and occasionally the summer months elapse before the Gold-
finch enters into domestic duties. The female is a skilled architect and her nest,
after one year's exposure in this climate, appears more substantial than some
other bird structures just completed.

During July and August, when thistle down is floating in the air, the female
selects for a nesting site the crotch of a fruit or shade tree, often in close prox-
imity to dwellings. Indian hemp, vegetable down and ])lant fibers are securely
woven and matted together, forming a broad brimmed, deeply hollowed nest
into which a bountiful supply of thistle down is placed. The nest is usually
situated within twenty feet of the ground. Three to six faint bluish white eggs

820

arc laid, with an average Icnfjth of sixty-five hundredths of an inch by forty-eight
hundredths of an inch in l)rcadth. The period of incubation is two weeks.
This species has been found nesthnj^ on the tops of thistle plants, from which
they often take the name of Thistle Bird.

The nest illustrating this article was built in an oak shrub, five feet from the
ground, and was taken September 1, 1901. At this late date incubation had
only commenced, and although the timber about the nesting site swarmed with
migrants passing southward, Mother Goldfinch expressed no anxiety over the
late condition of her household atTairs.

The Return of the Birds

Get ready to observe the return of the birds. If wc were in the southland
and understood bird language, no doubt we should hear many conversations
among the birds about getting ready for their trips north. Before this month
is out, unless the weather is unusually rigorous, some of the early arrivers will
have come. It is to be hoped that the study and observation of the winter
birds will have created enough interest in our feathered friends to lead us
to study more carefully the many summer birds.

Prepare to keep a bird-book. Note the time of the first arrivals, whether
you observe the first robin in the morning or the evening, etc. Look in your
Birdcraft or Bird Life for the probable time of the arrival of different birds
and set down in your note-book whether they come in on time or not. If you
see a bird that is not familiar to you, note as many of its characteristics as
possible, then compare your notes with some authority and learn its name.

.\s the nights grow warmer, go out and listen, and see whether you do
not hear the cries of birds as they come back.

Put into your note-books the things you actually see, observe and think
about the birds. You will find so much of interest to note, as the birds sing
their spring songs, commence their nest building and all, you will soon grow
enthusiastic over your book.

Your note-book may become a general nature-book as well as a bird-book.
While in the w'oods or fields observing the birds, you may note the sprouting
of a nut or seed, the bursting of the shell of a chrysalis, the unfolding of the
frond of a fern, and many other interesting things. — S. S. M.

821

The Philippine Sun -Bird {CinnyHs juguians)

By Thomas S. Roberts

Darlings of children and of bard,
Perfect kinds by vice immarred,
All of worth and beauty set
Gems in Nature's cabinet :
These the fables she esteems
Reality most like to dreams.

— Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Nature."

The sun-birds bear a similar relation to the oriental tropics that the huniming
birds do to the warmer regions of the Western hemisphere. Both have a
remarkably brilliant plumage which is in harmony with the gorgeous flowers
that grow in the tropical fields. It is probable that natives of Asia first gave
the name sun-birds to these bright creatures because of their splendid and shining
plumage. By the Anglo-Indians they have been called humming birds, but
they are perching birds while the humming birds are not. There are over one
hundred species of these birds. They are graceful in all their motions and very
active in their habits. Like the humming birds, they flit from flower to flower,
feeding on the minute insects which are attracted by the nectar, and probably
to some extent on the honey, for their tongues are fitted for gathering it. How-
ever, their habit while gathering food is unlike that of the humming bird, for
they do not hover over the flower, but perch upon it while feeding. The plumage
of the males nearly always differs very strongly from that of the females. The
brilliantly colored patches are unlike those of the humming birds, for they blend
gradually and are not sharply contrasted, though the iridescent character is just
as marked. The bills are long and slender, finely pointed and curved. The edges
of the mandibles are finely serrated.

The nests are beautiful structures suspended from the end of a bough or
even from the underside of a leaf. The entrance is near the top and usually
on the side. Over the entrance a projecting portico is often constructed. The
outside of the nest is usually covered with coarse materials, apparently to give
the effect of a pile of rubbish. Two eggs are usually laid in these cozy homes,
but in rare instances three have been found. The Philippine Sun-bird of our
illustration is a native of the Philippines and is found on nearly all the islands
from Luzon to Mindanao. The throat of the male has a beautiful iridescent
shaded with green, while that of the female, shown on the nest, is yellow.

Fly, white butterflies, out to sea.
Frail pale wings for the winds to try;
Small white wings that we scarce can see
Here and there may a chance-caught eye

Fly.
Note, in a score of you, twain or three
Brighter or darker of tinge or dye ;

822

.M.{

PHILIPPINE YELLOW-BREASTED SUN-BIRD.

(Cinnyris jugularis).

Life-size.

Some My li^'lit .'i> a lauj,'h (»f ^k't', ^ '

Sonic Hy soft as a lon^, low sigh :

All to the li.'ivfii where each would he —

I'ly. — SwiNBiRNE.

'J

Our Skylark

By Edward B. Clark

The ICngli.sh Skylark is tryiii}^ to hcconie an American citizen. Possibly it
is too early yet to call it our skylark, but it is said that the bird has shown
that it can stand the American climate and that the few larks now with us are
likely to become the forefathers and foremothers of a long and tuneful line of
songsters.

It is a sweet bird, this skylark, l^nglishmen who have come to our shores
to stay always have felt it a personal grievance that America had no skylark.
After the manner of John IjuH, the ICnglishman has seemed to feel that in
some way the American people were to blame for the absence of the lark from
the Yankee avifauna. Small blame to John for missing him. The bird is no
beauty. We have a thousand belter-dressed birds and a thousand as well be-
haved, but it is the characteristics of the skylark which ha\e made it dear to
the British heart.

There is in this country a bird called the western pipit, locally known as
the Missouri skylark, whose hal)it and sign are similar to those of its British
brother. The wonder has been that no poet has been found in this middle western
country to sing its praise. I'erhaps the fault lies in the extreme local distribution
of the species. But, surely there be poets in the Missouri River country.

Back almost as far as we can go in English poetry we find the lark. Lyly
wrote of the bird ; so did Shakespeare ; so did all the poets down to the very
moderns. Hogg said, "Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea," and but
few more graceful lines have been written. Burroughs in his book touching
on birds and poets say plumply that he prefers Wordsworth's words on the
lark to those of Shelley. This may sound like rank heresy, but Burroughs is
never anything if not blunt. The "Ode to the Lark" is too long, he says, in
effect. The lark's song itself is long, to be sure, but "the lark can't help it and
Shelley could."

Let others choose. Here are two of the better known extracts from two
great English i)oets. Wordsworth calls the skylark the pilgrim of the sky. He
says :

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood ;

A privacy of glorious light is thine.
Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood

Of harmony, with instinct more divine ;
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam.
True to the kindred points of heaven and home.

823

Shelley writes :

With thy clear, keen joyance

Langour cannot be ;
Shadow of annoyance

Never came to thee ;

Thou lovest ; but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.

Waking or asleep,

Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep

Than we mortals dream,

Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?

Now that the skylark is an American bird, the American poets may make
pilgrimages to the Long Island meadows, there to listen and then to hie them to
their closets to sing. Will one of them ever rise to the height of the master who
in one line put more of beauty and of truth than did all the poets who have gone
before or who have come and gone since? What a picture is this of a fluttering
form outlined against the zenith while the tinkling notes come showering down :

Hark, hark ! The lark at heaven's gate sings.
Like the bird, Shakespeare sang at heaven's gate.

To the Robin

By Grace W. Ballard

An early herald of the Spring,

With russet breast and glossy wing.

Is at my door. O ! Robin, dear,

How sweet your song of "Cheer up, cheer.

How can you sing when well you know.
Winter is here? Beneath the snow
No food for you, yet not a fear.
Is in your song of "Cheer up, cheer."

Cold are the days of rain and sleet;
Where can you rest those tiny feet ?
I hear you say that Spring is near.
In hopeful song of "Cheer up, cheer."

What hope and trust is in your note,
My little friend with scarlet throat.
Teach me your joy through smile or tear,
A song to sing of "Cheer up, cheer."

824

Friends of Our Forests

li\- I I('nr\- W. 1 Irnshdw

At e\cry >tagf oi their ^ruulli, troiii the stcd \o ilic adult tree, our forest,
shade and orchard trees arc subject to tlic attacks of hordes of insect enemies,
which, if imchccked, would soon utterly destroy them.

What the loss of our forest and shade trees would mean to us can better be
imagined than describe<l. Wood enters into so many products that it is diftlcult
to think of civilized man without it, while the fruits of our orchards also are of
the greatest imjjortance. Aside from the economic loss, which can hardly be
imagined, much less estimated, how barren the world would seem shorn of our
forests and beautiful shade trees !

Fortunately, the insect foes of trees are not without their (nvn persistent
enemies, and among them arc many species of birds whose equipment and habits
specially fit them to deal with insects and whose entire lives are spent in pursuit
of them. Many insects at one or another stage of their existence burrow deeply
into the bark or even into the living wood of trees, and so are quite safe from
ordinary bird enemies. Woodpeckers, however, being among the most highly
specialized of birds, are wonderfully equipped to dig into wood and to expose
and destroy these hidden foes.

Certain insects that largely confine their attacks to the smaller branches and
terminal twigs are sought out and preyed upon by nuthatches, creepers, titmice,
and warblers. Others, and their number is legion, attack the blossoms and
foliage, and here the nimble and sharp-eyed warblers render supreme service,
the number of plant lice and lepidopteroiis larvre they destroy in a single day
almost challenging belief.

Thus our woodland songsters are among the most important of all our
birds, and in their own field render man unequaled service. Moreover, very few
have any injurious habits, and the little harm they do, if any, weighs as nothing
in the balance when compared with the good. By reason of their numbers and
their activity in hunting insects, our warblers take first place as preservers of
the forest, and the following account, which treats of about half the total number,
is devoted to the more conspicuous, the more important, and the commoner species.

THE WARBLER FAMILY

Our wood warblers are assembled in a rather loosely defined family (the
mniotiltidae), embracing in all about 140 species, of which more than a third
are visitors to the United States. They are fairly well distributed over the
country at large, although more species make their summer homes in the eastern
half of the United States than in the western.

A number of notable species, however, summer in the West, as they do
also in the Southern States. Our New World warblers are quite unlike their
Old W'orld relatives, the Sylviidse, or true warblers, whose family includes some
75 genera and between 500 and 600 species.

825

Not only do our American species differ structurally in many particulars
from their Old World representatives, especially in possessing nine instead of
ten primaries, but they differ markedly also in appearance and habits. It may
be said in passing that while our warblers are brilliantly colored and many of
them sexually dissimilar, those of the Old World are not only small, but plainly
plumaged; moreover, the sexes are generally alike in coloration.

The larger number of our warblers, as well as the most characteristic, are
included in the one genus Dendroica, which is notable, since it includes more
species than any other genus of North American birds.

HAUNTS OF WOOD WARBLERS

Fortunately for the bird lover, our wood warblers are not recluses. They
are creatures of light and sunshine. Some of them, it is true, retire to the
mountain fastnesses or the depths of coniferous forests during the nesting period;
but the number of these is small and their withdrawal for only a comparatively
short time, while the majority at all times of the year favor the edges of the
forest, open woods, or brushy clearings.

Their preference for such situations brings many within the bounds of civili-
zation and renders it comparatively easy for any one so inclined to make their
acquaintance. As during migration they assemble in flocks, they are, on the
whole, pretty well known ; and since, as a rule, they are not shy, they have long
been favorite objects of observation and study.

WARBLERS AS SONGSTERS

Despite their name, which would seem to imply musical ability of no mean
order, our wood warblers, with few exceptions, occupy no very high place in the
musical galaxy. All sing, however, after a fashion, and the musical efforts of
some are pleasing, even according to human standards. While most warblers
are prodigal enough with their music and sing early and often, especially prior to
and during the nesting season, their music is frequently so faint as to be audible
only to the trained ear of the bird lover.

As if aware of their musical inferiority, few display much enthusiasm in
their vocal efforts, but sing while they work, or while pausing for a brief moment
as they move among the foliage hunting for food. With them, singing appears
to be an audible expression of general content and well being, and, no doubt, an
effort to please and attract their mates.

Certain members of the thrush and thrashes families, on the contrary, which
contain in their ranks the prima donnas of our bird world, as if conscious of
their supremacy, are wont to mount a commanding perch when about to sing,
and to pour out their melody for all the world to hear. With them, singing is
not merely incidental to the day's work. It is a conscious and supreme effort,
and is much too important to be slighted or shared with any other function. Ap-
parently they appreciate to a great extent and enjoy their own outpourings, and,
if we may interpret their feelings by human standards, are conscious that their
musical offerings entitle them to an audience.

826

TKOl'H AL OKKilN <>1" WAKIU.KKS

Xot only do tlu-ir l>rijL,'ht colors sup^cst a tr()j)ical orij^iii of <nir warhlcrs, i)ut
tlitir whole niakc'-u|i is in kcrpiii;; with trojiioal surrounding's. Warblers are
thinlv feathered and delicately orj^'anized and most of thcni incapable of with-
standinj,' any {,'reat decree of cold. They are also almost exclusively insect eaters,
only a few of the family beinj^ at all vej^eterian. an<l these only tf) a comparatively
small extent.

Hence, with them. mi},'ration is not a matter of choice, but is imperative.
Thev come to us on a particular errand for a few short months, and when
family cares are at an end, back they hie to the trojjics, the lands of warmth and
sunshine, which lend them to us for a brief season. Thus the true home of our
warblers is not where they nest, but where tiiey sjjend three-fourths of their
lives — not tlic north, but the south — not in the teiuperatc, but in the tropical
zones.

SFECTACL'L.SK .MK.KATION (»F WARIiLERS

That wonderful i)henomenon. bird migration, is illustrated by few birds so
clearly and convincingly as by our wood warblers. Assuredly no other birds —
unless it be the geese — migrate in such a spectacular manner. The stroller, in
late August or September, finds himself in the woods, the silence being broken
only by the drumming of a distant partridge, the chir])ing of insects, or other
familiar sounds which only emphasize the general quiet that prevails.

Presto ! The scene changes ! The woods, apparently almost tenantless but
a moment before, are now filled with life of the most animated and intense kind.
Every shrub, every tree, has its feathered occupant. Our observer recognizes
perhaps a dozen or twenty species, representing several distinct families ; but prom-
inent among them, by reason of numbers, variegated plumage, graceful forms,
and active motions, are the wood warblers.

Every individual is alert and busy, gliding from one twig to another near by.
or flying from one tree to the next, while from all sides come the soft calls and
notes of individual members of the flock, whose friendly converse has the effect,
if not the purpose, of keeping the individuals of the assemblage in touch with
each other and with the flock as a unit. In a few moments silence again reigns
where all was commotion and activity. The birds have passed on their seemingly
aimless course.

If the observer would learn the solution of the mystery of the birds' evident
hurry, he has only to follow them for a time, when he will find that, however
erratic may seem the course of individual members of the flock, the flock as a
whole is steering a tolerably straight course southward. In other words, he is
in the midst of a flock of birds en route to their winter quarters and, in order
to economize time, feeding as they go. This, however, is not the only way
warblers migrate, nor is it the most important, since the greater part of the
long journey of many is performed by night.

Anyone with good ears has only to listen on a clear, frosty nigiit in fall to
hear hundreds of warblers and other birds as they flit by, a few hundred yards

827

above the earth, the call notes coming incessantly out of the darkness. The
route of these flying hosts often carries them above cities, and one cannot be
insensible to the incongruity between his surroundings and the woodland scenes,
so vividly brought to mind by the lisping notes coming from the darkness over-
head. The subject of migration has not inspired our poets so often as might
be expected, but Longfellow, in his "Birds of Passage," gives us the following
wonderfully suggestive lines :

But the night is fair,

And everywhere

A warm, soft vapor fills the air,

And distant sounds seem near;
And above, in the light
Of the star-lit night,
Swift birds of passage wing their flight,

Through the dewy atmosphere.

I hear the beat

Of their pinions fleet.

As from the land of snow and sleet

They seek a southern lea.
I hear the cry
Of their voices high,
Falling dreamily through the sky.

But their forms I cannot see.

Probably because insects constitute such an important part of their food,
warblers, as a rule, migrate early in fall and late in spring. It is true that in fall
many linger till frosts nip the vegetation; but insects are abroad even later than
this, and it is only necessary to watch these late migrants for a short time to
learn that their search for insects is being well rewarded.

Only a few species come north early in spring, the great bulk of the warblers
evidently having been taught by bitter experience that in spring, at least, it is not
the early bird that finds most worms or finds them easiest.

FLOCKING OF SMALL BIRDS

Just why small birds, when migrating, congregate in large flocks and troop
through the woodlands has often been the subject of speculation. Juncos, several
species of sparrows, woodpeckers, nuthatches, chickadees, creepers, and, above
all, warblers, combine to swell the ranks of these migrating companies. As many
as a dozen or more species of warblers may often be seen in one flock, which, in
addition, may include 200 or 300 individuals, representing a number of families
whose tastes and habits in every-day life differ very widely.

Yet here are these incongruous elements mingling together on terms of the
utmost friendliness. Since birds are sociable beings, except during the short
time when family cares prompt to jealous vigilance, sociability alone may be the
bond of union ; added, however, to the kindly feeling of companionship probably

828

is a feeling of increased security which conies from numbers. Certainly no enemy
can approach one of these bird assemblages without being spied by at least one
pair of vigilant eyes, when the lUjck is immediately notified by a few sharp
chirps — warning for every individual to seek safety in flight or to scurry to cover.

WHAT MYSTERIOUS SENSE GUIDES TIIFCM IN TIIKIR LONG JOURNEYS?

In what manner warblers migrate — that is, how they are guided on their long
journeys — is a moot question. Little mystery attaches to their ability to find
their way north or south in daylight, since the recognizable landmarks are
many and prominent. As most birds, especially the warblers, choose starlight and
moonlii^'ht nights for their trips, perhaps they arc similarly guided by night, and
natural landmarks, as mountains, ri\crs, and the coastline may point out much, if
not all, of their way.

However plausible this explanation may sound in the case of birds migrating
over land, it utterly fails when applied to migrants whose journeys north and
south necessitate flight over long stretches of ocean, in some instances at least
2.000 miles, quite out of sight of land and all landmarks.

In seeking an explanation of the mystery of birds* ability to find their way
under such circumstances, many arc inclined to reject the one-time sufificient
answer, "instinct," in favor of the more recent theory, the possession by birds of
another faculty, the so-called "sense of direction." This added sense enables
birds to return to a known locality with no other aid than an ever-present knowl-
edge of the right direction.

But in the case of our wood warblers, there is little need of appealing to
another sense to guide them in migration, or, indeed, to anything out of the
ordinary save excellent memory and good eyesight. The five-hundred-mile flight
toward the tropics across the Gulf of Mexico is made by preference, and how-
ever it originated as a fly line, had it proved to be extra hazardous, it might have
been abandoned at any time in favor of the apparently safer West Indian route.

But, after all, the Gulf trip involves few hazards, other than those connected
with storms, since the flight across the water, even at a slow rate, would necessi-
tate a journey of less than 24 hours, and this, no doubt, is quite within the
capacity of even the smallest and weakest of the famliy. Moreover, the South
-American Continent is too big a mark to be easily missed, and an error of a few
hundred miles north or south would make little dift'erence in the safety of the
birds.

WHY WARBLERS MIGRATE

It may be set down as an axiom that all birds which travel south in fall do so
because they must migrate or freeze or starve. Why some of them leave early
when food in their summer home is seemingly so abundant, is indeed a puzzle.
Once the nestlings arc on the wing and ready for the journey, off they go, old
and young.

Nevertheless, by an apparently premature start they anticipate by a few
weeks the time of scarcity when they must go, and perhaps the lesson of bitter

829

experience in the history of the several species has taught them to go when all
the conditions are favorable. It is true that every winter a few birds, often a
few individuals of a given species, winter far north of the customary winter
home. Some of these are evidently stragglers or wanderers which, for some
unexplained reason, failed to accompany the rest of their kind on the southward
migration. They in no wise affect the general statement, being exceptional in
every way.

A few of our warblers in Florida and on other parts of our southern coast
do not migrate ; but the almost universal rule in the family is to abandon the
summer home when the care of the young ceases and to go far southward ere
they stop for the winter. Indeed, the males of many species do not trouble
themselves much with the care of the nestlings, but prepare to migrate before the
young are well on the wing.

A still more flagrant case is that of the hummingbirds. The male deserts the
female when she is still on her eggs, shifting the responsibility of caring for
the family entirely on her devoted head, while he disports himself among the
flowers, leaving for the south long before his exemplary mate and the young are
ready.

Some of our species, however, while migrating southward, are satisfied to
remain all winter within our boundaries. Thus the pine and palm warblers winter
in the Gulf states, while a greater or less number of individuals, representing
several species, winter in southern Florida. The great majority, however, winter
south of the United States, in Central and South America.

Thus Professor Cooke tells us : "The prairie, black-throated blue. Swain-
son's, Bachman's, Cape May, and Kirtland's warblers go only to the West Indies.
The worm-eating, myrtle, magnolia, chestnut-sided, black-throated green, hooded,
blue-winged, Nashville, orange-crowned, parula, palm, and Wilson's warblers, and
the chat, go no farther than Central America, while many species spend the
winter in South America, including some or all the individuals of the black and
white, phothonotary, golden-winged, Tennessee, yellow, cerulean, bay-breasted,
block-pol, Blackburnian, Kentucky, Connecticut, mourning, and Canada war-
blers, the redstart, oven-bird, and both the water-thrushes. Nearly all the warblers
of the western United States spend the winter in Mexico and the contiguous por-
tions of Central America."

VAST NUMBERS SUCCUMB

The northward journey in spring, away from the land of sunshine and plenty
to the land of uncertain spring weather, is another matter. Probably if all birds
that habitually abandon the north and winter in the south were to nest there,
their quota, added to the number resident in the tropics, would be too great for
the means of subsistence.

Nevertheless, birds are not forced away from their winter quarters by in-
clement weather or impending famine, but by the subtle physiological change which
warns them of the approach of the mating season and fills them with new desires,

830

among which is the coinpclUng one of a return to the spot ulieif they first saw
the hght, or where they reared last season's brood.

Whatever the cause, the birds arc not discouraged by the many and great
perils that attend migration, and vast numbers every year succumb to them.
Storms, especially off-shore storms, constitute the gravest peril, and there is
abundant evidence that millions of birds are annually blown out to sea to final
watery graves. Perhaps no family suffers more in the aggregate than the war-
blers. Thinly feathered, delicately organized, highly insectivorous, they are ex-
posed to uini>u:il dangers while Ijirds of passage to and from their nesting
grounds.

It is a matter of common observation that every few years in some given
locality, perhaps embracing a region of considerable size, a particular species of
warbler or other bird suddenly becomes rare where before common. After a
season or so, though sometimes not for years, the equilibrium is reestablished
and the numbers are as before. These changes very probably are the visible signs
of migration catastrophies, the result of the sweeping away of a migration wave,
composed of one or of many species, in the path of some sudden storm.

Again, many of us have witnessed the dire effects of a prolonged rain and
sleet storm in spring, when thousands of luckless migrants find only too late that
they have permanently left the warmth and plenty of their tropical winter
refuges. Under such circumstances thousands of migrants perish from the com-
bined eft'ects of cold and starvation, and among them are sure to be great numbers
of warblers.

ECONOMIC VALUE OF WAKBLERS

From the esthetic point of view, our warblers, as a group, occupy a high and
unique position. They also occupy no uncertain place in the list of our useful
birds. Preeminently insectivorous, they spend their lives in the active pursuit of
insects. They begin with the eggs, preying upon them whenever and wherever
found, and continue the good work when the egg becomes the larva and when the
larva becomes the perfect insect.

They are especially valuable in this respect because of the protection they
lend to forest trees, the trunk, bark, and foliage of which they search with tireless
energy. Their efificiency is vastly increased because the many different species
pursue the quest for food in very different ways. While some confine their
search chiefly to the trunks and large branches and examine each crack and
crevice in the bark for eggs or larvae, others devote their energies to the twigs
and foliage, scanning each leaf and stem with eager eyes. Still others descend
to the ground and examine the rubbish and grass for hidden prey, while nearly
all are adept at catching insects on the wing.

Each species, however, has a method of its own, more or less unlike that of
its fellows, and each excels in some specialty. Not only does the group as a whole
specialize on insects, but each individual member of the group still further spe-
cializes, so as to leave no loophole for the escape of the enemy.

The quantity of animal food required to drive an avian engine at full speed

831

IS so very great that it is no exaggeration to say that practically all the waking
hours of our warblers, from daylight to dark, are devoted to food-getting. What
this never-ceasing industry means when translated into tons-weight of insects, it
is impossible even to guess, but the practical result of the work of our warblers
and other insectivorous birds is that we still have our forests, and shall continue
to have them so long as we encourage and protect the birds.

In the case of orchards and shade trees, there are other means at our dis-
posal of controlHng the insect enemy, notably the use of sprays. Sprays are
very important, since birds are too few in number immediately to control insect
outbreaks, especially nowadays, when the number of destructive native insects
has been so greatly increased by importations from all quarters of the globe.
But for the preservation of our forests we must rely largely upon our birds,
since the use of sprays or of other agencies over our vast woodland tracts would
be too expensive, even were it not quite impracticable for many other reasons.

MEANS OF INCREASING THE NUMBER OF WARBLERS

Insects are very numerous, and there is reason to believe that much benefit
would result if we could multiply the present number of their enemies — the birds.
The erection of bird boxes and shelters is an easy way to increase the number of
certain species of birds, like swallows and chickadees. Unfortunately, with few
exceptions, our warblers do not build their nests in cavities, and hence can not
be induced to occupy bird boxes.

Many of them, however, nest in bushes, vines and shrubbery, and by planting
clumps of these near houses something can be done toward increasing the number
of certain species, as the yellow warbler and the redstart. Because our warblers
are chiefly insectivorous, their food habits bar them from the usual bird 1un-h-
counter in times of hard storms.

During migration, warblers are peculiarly exposed to the danger of prowling
cats. Many species feed close to or even on the ground, and then they are so
much concerned with their own business that any tabby, however old and lazy, is
equal to catching one or more individuals daily. The bird lover can do good
service by summarily disposing of vagrant cats, which, during migration, work
havoc in the ranks of our small birds.

They can also restrain the pernicious activities of their own pets, for these,
however well fed, are still subject to the predatory instincts of their wild ances-
try, which impel them to stalk a live bird with all the zeal and cunning of their
forebears.

PLUMAGES OF WARBLERS

Little difficulty is experienced, even by the tyro, in distinguishing warblers
from other birds, but to recognize the several species is not so easy, particularly
as the adult males and females of many species are markedly dissimilar, while
the young, both in the first and second plumages, often differ from the adults.
So far as possible the various plumages are shown in the illustrations of the
artist, which are so admirable as to do away with the need of descriptive text.
All are approximately one-half life size.

832

Our Night Hawk

By Edward B. Clark

Our bird friend the nif,'ht hawk is handicapped with a name .su^K*-*stive of
chicken thievery and nii(hiij,'ht marauding. In both ICngland and America the
word in its plural form has been used for years as one of reproach for vandals
who unhinge gates, hang the worthy doctor's sign over the door of the under-
taker and rcpkicc the mortar of the apothecary with the spade of the grave-digger.

The night hawk in some unenlightened country districts still is held to
be an enemy of the j)0ultry yard and is classed in the infamy calendar with the
sharp-shinned and the cooper's hawks. It would seem that everybody ought to
know, but everybody doesn't, that the night hawk is not a hawk at all, but on the
contrary, is a beneficial bird, making its chief prey the poisonous mosquito and
the pestiferous gnat.

Year by year the wild-bird colony of Chicago increases in numbers. The
night hawks squeak over the city's roofs and rear their young on the hard
gravel thereof. The birds are attracting the attention of the populace. Hundreds
of people watch them nightly in summer as they pass in rapid and easy flight
above the shore line of the lake on the North Side. Just how much the birds
do to keep down the plague of insects it is hard even to conjecture, but they
have cavernous mouths and capacious stomachs, and their pest-destroying work
ceases not from sunset until late night.

One summer the janitor of a Xorth Side apartment building who had climbed
to the roof to look for a leak was something more than startled by a large bird
which took to flight with a protesting cry from almost beneath his feet. The
janitor barely escaped stepping on two darkly marked eggs which closely resem-
bled the larger of the pebbles among which they were placed. There was not
a sign of a nest. The night hawk, the roof dweller, lacks either the art or
the inclination to provide a soft couch for its young. Theirs is a stony bed,
whether made in city or country.

The janitor told the story of his discovery to a tenant, who for once had
the temerity to give orders to the king of the flats. Xo one not properly accred-
ited as a bird lover was to have access to the roof. The janitor was of the
right sort. "No need to tell me that," he said ; "I wasn't going to tell anybody
but you. The man who robs that nest will lose his lea.^e, or I'm no janitor."

The night hawk hatched its young. The fledglings took their first flight
into a darkened world, but they saw their way well enough, for the night hawk
holds in contempt the creatures who need anything brighter than starlight to
make clear the path.

833

The Golden Eagle (AquUa chrysaetos)

By W. Leon Dawson

Description. — Adult: General plumage rich dark brown, sometimes paling
on wing-coverts, etc. ; the lanceolate feathers of occiput and cervix buffy-tipped
and tawny-edged (scarcely "golden," but the name arises here) ; wing-quills and
tail blackish, the latter clouded or obscurely barred for the basal two-thirds with
grayish brown and whitish ; tarsi, fully feathered to the toes, paler or whitish.
The birds become somewhat gray with age. Immature: Like adult, but basal
two-thirds of tail plain white contrasting with terminal black; tarsi still paler or
white. (Authorities flatly disagree as to whether the white-tailed bird is adult or
young; I follow Ridgway. There is a difference but for pity's sake let's not go
and kill off the rest of the Eagles for the sake of finding out who is in the right.)
Adult male length 30.00-36.00 (762.-914.4) ; wing about 24.00 (609.6) ; tail about
14.50 (368.3) ; bill 1.60 (40.6) ; tarsus 3.75 (95.3). Adult female length 35.00-
40.00 (889.-1016.) ; wing about 26.00 (660.4) ; tail 15.50 (393.7) ; bill 1.80 (45.7) ;
tarsus 4.18 (106.2). Extent of wing from six and one-half to seven and one-half
feet.

Recognition Marks. — Largest ; not easily distinguished at distance from
immature Bald Eagle ; feathered tarsi, of course, distinctive.

Nest, a bulky platform of sticks, on cliffs, or, more rarely, in trees. Eggs,
2 or 3, dull whitish, usually speckled, spotted, blotched or stained distinctly and
faintly with reddish brown. Av. size, 2.96x2.32 (75.2x58.9).

Range. — North America south to Mexico, and northern parts of the Eastern
Hemisphere. Breeding range in the United States practically restricted to the
mountainous parts of unsettled regions.

Because of the racial weakness for symbols and striking generalizations, we
have been taught that the Golden Eagle is the embodiment of all regal qualities,
including courage, magnanimity, and valor in defense of offspring. There is some
foundation for all this. Li his mountain home the majestic flight of the Eagle
truly befits the grandeur of the scene. Cradled on a beetling cliff and schooled in
the clouds, it is little wonder that the Eagle should have become for us the symbol
of both prowess and aspiration. Even in captivity there is something awful about
his piercing eye, and the unrest of the royal captive appeals to all that is chivalrous
in our natures.

But the reputation of the Eagle race, quite as in the case of our own, has
been made by a few individuals, and their feats are a revelation of the possibilities
inherent in the breed rather than chapters from common life. Never shall I
forget the pained disappointment of my first Golden Eagle's nest in the Cascade
Mountains of Washington. The situation was romantic enough — a ledge of rock
some three hundred and fifty feet uj) on the side of the gulch and seventy-five
feet clear of the talus below. At the time of my first visit. May 18th. the ne.'^t
contained two eaglets about six weeks old. Armed with a stout birchen staff I

834

o r
^ re

workctl my way over to a secure footiiij; witliin a doy.eii feet (jf the nest. Tlie
remaininjj distance was a nasty bit of climbing, aiul I preferred to await the first
oiislaiifjht of tlie outraged parents where there w<juld be some chance for defense.
I'udi^e ! The fire-eatinj; binls aj^peared once or twice in tlie middle distance, but
paid no more attention to the peril of their offspring than as if I had been a
Magpie, coveting the crumbs from the royal table.

Three weeks later I revisited the nest and jnit the eaglets to llight. One of
the old birds came up and superintended the gliding downfall of the least capable
child, but seeing her safely upon the ground immediately went away marmot-
hunting in jK'rfcct unconcern, if there is one bird above another of a gentle and
unsuspecting nature, I judge the Golden F,agle to be that bird. lUit doubtless this
also is a hasty generalization.

On the cliffs of I^occne formation near I-ossil, Wyoming, I once located a
( loldcn ICagle's nest. The material of which these hills arc composed is a kind
of volcanic ash, very friable, and the birds had chosen for their eyrie a cranny in
the very middle of one of the wildest of these fossil-bearing cliflfs and at a height
of some seventy feet. It was practically inaccessible even by rope, for the cliff
is perpendicular and deeply fissured by the action of the weather, so that the
flying buttresses thus formed are ready to part and crumble at a breath. A pair
of Prairie Falcons (quite similar to our Peregrines) had a nest in the "next block"
and they appeared to make a practice of persecuting the Eagles just for sport. I
saw one of the Eagles launch out from his nest for a course across the broad
valley. A Falcon took after him. although the Eagle had a big lead. "A race."
thought I. Woof, woof. woof, went the Eagle's wings; clip. clip. clip. cli[). went
the Falcon's. Inside of a mile the smaller bird made up the distance, scratched
His Majesty's crown with his noble toes, and was up in the ether a hundred yards
before the Eagle could do a thing. This process was repeated until the gentle
pair passed from sight, but a few minutes later the Falcon returned to his perch
chuckling hugely.

Tn Ohio the Golden Eagle is surmised to be only a winter visitor. As such
it is not infrequently seen in various parts of the state and is occasionally captured
in traps or shot while inspecting some poultry yard or pig-pen. The injuries
inflicted by the birds are usually trifling, but might become serious if they were
at all numerous.

Professor Jones, in his recent catalog, notes four records for Eorain County
within the last five years, and. on the authority of Mr. Harry B. McConnell, three
captured near Cadiz within the past three years. An api)arent exception to the
ranks of winter visitors was one seen by myself on the Lake ICrie shore near
Lorain on the 29th of August. 1898. The appearance is no evidence of a near
breeding range, however, since these birds wander far in search of food, and
especially after the young are able to shift for themselves.

835

Ruby-Crowned Kinglet {Reguius calendula)

By Juliette A. Owen

"What wondrous power from heaven upon thee wrought?
What prisoned Ariel within thee broods?''

— Cclia Thaxtcr.

"Thou singest as if the God of Wine
Had helped thee to a valentine ;
A song in mockery and despite
Of shades and dews and silent night,
And steady bliss and all the loves
Now sleeping in these peaceful groves."

— Wordsworth.

Like a bee with its honey, when the Ruby-crown has unloaded his vocal
sweetness, there is comparatively little left of him, and, ebullient with an energy
that would otherwise rend him, his incredible vocal achievement is the safety valve
that has so far preserved his atoms in their Avian semblance.

Dr. Coues says that his lower larynx, the sound-producing organ, is not much
bigger than a good-sized pin's head, and the muscles that move it are almost micro-
scopic shreds of flesh. "If the strength of the human voice were in the same
proportion to the size of the larynx, we could converse with ease at a distance of
a mile or more."

"The Kinglet's exquisite vocalization," he continues, "defies description ; we
can only speak in general terms of the power, purity and volume of the notes, their
faultless modulation and long continuance. Many doubtless, have listened to this
music without suspecting that the author was the diminutive Ruby-crown, with
whose commonplace utterance, the slender, wiry 'tsip,' they were already familiar.
This delightful role, of musician, is chiefly executed during the mating season, and
the brief period of exaltation which precedes it. It is consequently seldom heard
in regions where the bird does not rear its young, except when the little performer
breaks forth in song on nearing its summer resorts."

When Rev. J. H. Langille heard his first Reguius calendula, he said, "The
song came from out of a thick clump of thorns, and was so loud and spirited that
I was led to expect a bird at least as large as a thrush. Chee-oo, chee-oo, chee-oo,
choo, choo, tseet, tseet, te-tseet, te-tseet, te-tseet, etc., may represent this wonder-
ful melody, the first notes being strongly palatal and somewhat aspirated, the
latter slender and sibilant and more rapidly uttered ; the first part being also so
full and animated as to make one think of the water-thrush, or the winter wren;
while the last part sounded like a succeedant song from a slender-voiced warbler.
Could all this come from the throat of this tiny, four-inch Sylvia? I was obliged
to believe my own eyes, for I saw the bird many times in the act of singing. The
melody was such as to mark the day on which I heard it."

836

II. IJ. Minot says, "In aiilumn and winter tlicir only note is a fccljlc lisj*. In
spring, besides occasionally uttcrinjj an indcscrikihle querulous sound, and a harsh,
'gratinj^' note, which belongs exclusively to that season, the Ruby-crowned wrens
sing extremely well and louder than such small birds seem cajiable of singing.
Their song begins with a few clear whistles, followed by a short, very sweet, and
complicated warble, and ending with notes like the syllables tu-we-we, tu-we-we.
tu-we-we. These latter are often repeated separately, as if the birds had no time
for a prelude, or arc sometimes prefacc<l by merely a few rather shrill notes w ith
a rising inflection."

Messrs. Baird. Brewer and Ridgu.iv -as that "The song f)f this bird is by
far the most remarkable of its specific peculiarities,'' and Mr. Chapman declares,
"Taking the small size of the bird into consideration, the Ruby-crown's song is
one of the most marvellous vocal performances among birds ; being not only
surpassingly sweet, varied and sustained, but pos.scsscd of sufficient volume to be
heard at a distance of twf) hundred yards. Fortunately he sings both on the spring
and fall migrations."

Mrs. Wright describes the call-note as "Thin and metallic, like a vibrating
wire." and quotes Mr. Xehrling. who speaks of the "Power, purity and volume
of the notes, their faultless modulation and long continuance."

Mr. Robert Ridgway wrote that this little king of song was one of our very
smallest birds he also "ranks among the sweetest singers of the country. It is
wonderfully powerful for one so small, but it is remarkable for its softness anrl
sweet expression more than for other qualities. It consists of an inexpressibly
delicate and musical warble, astonishingly protracted at times, and most beauti-
fully varied by softly rising and falling cadences, and the most tender whistlings
imaginable."

Mr. Ridgway quotes from Dr. Brewer: '"The notes arc clear, resonant and
high, and constitute a prolonged series, varying from the lowest tones to the
highest, and terminating with the latter. It may be heard at quite a distance, and
in some re^^pects bears more resemblance to the song of the English skylark than
to that of the canary, to which Mr. Audubon compares it." Mr. Ridgway con-
tinues: "We have never heard the skylark sing, but there is certainly no resem-
blance between the notes of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet and those of the canary,
the latter being as inferior in tenderness and softness as they excel in loudness."

Mr. Audubon had stated: "When I tell you that its song is fully as sonorous
as that of the canary-bird, and much richer. I do not come up to the truth, for it
is not only as powerful and clear, but much more varied and pleasing to the ear.'

While the frequent sacrifice of the adult regulus and regina through their
reckless absorption in their own affairs and obliviousness to the presence of ene-
mies, lends color to the statement that "The spirits of the martyrs will be lodged
in the crops of green birds." yet by virtue of a talent other than vocal, they compel
few of the human family to echo the remorseful lament of John Halifax.
Gentleman,

837

"I took the wren's nest,
Bird, forgive me !"

For but few of the most ardent seekers have succeeded in locating the habita-
tion of the fairy kinglet, and the unsuccessful majority perforce exclaim with
Wordsworth,

"Oh, blessed bird ! The earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial, fairy place.
That is fit home for thee !"

Ihe Cradwall {ChauUlasmus streperus)

Synonym. — Gray Duck.

Description. — Adult male: Head and upper neck buffy, spotted or streaked
with dusky ; top of head darker brownish ; breast and lower neck all around dusky
and white, each feather with five to eight concentric half-rings of alternating
colors, presenting a handsomely scaled appearance; sides, back and scapulars
similarly varied with dusky and white, buffy, or ochraceous-white, in semi-con-
centric, zig-zag, or fine, wavy lines ; the posterior inner scapulars, not thus marked,
dull cinnamon-brown, darker centrally and edged with lighter, lanceolate ; lower
back dusky, becoming velvety black on lower tail-coverts and around on sides of
crissum ; middle wing-coverts bright chestnut ; the lesser dull brownish gray, the
greater velvety black ; speculum white, rather narrowly, the outer secondaries black
and dusky, the bounding tertials plain fuscous ; belly white or grayish, obscurely
barred posteriorly ; axillars and lining of wings white ; bill blue-black ; legs and
feet dull orange, the webs dusky. Adult male in breeding season: "Similar to
winter male, but colors duller, crown dusky, rump and breast tinged with rusty,
and under parts more spotted with dusky" (Ridgway). Adult female: "Head
and throat as in the male ; back fuscous margined with buffy ; breast and sides
ochraceous buffy, thickly spotted with blackish ; belly and under tail-coverts white,
more or less thickly spotted with blackish ; little or no chestnut on wing-coverts ;
speculum ashy gray and white ; axillars and under wing-coverts pure xvhite"
(Chapman). (No specimen in O. S. U. collection.) Length 19.00-22.00 (482.6-
558.8) ; wing 10.60 (269.2) ; tail 4.50 (114.3) ; bill 1.67 (42.4) ; tarsus 1.60 (40.6).
Female smaller.

Recognition Marks. — Something under Mallard size; ivhite speculiDn dis-
tinctive.

Xest, on the ground near water, of grasses lined with feathers. Eggs, 8-12,
pale buffy or clay-colored. Av. size, 2.09x1.57 (53.1x39.9).

Range. — Nearly cosmopolitan. Tn North ;\merica breeds chiefly within tht
United States.

838

rr

The apparent scarcity uf this species is doubtless to Ijc attril)ute(l in part to
its excessive timidity and cuniiinj^ sccrctiveiiess. I'ut pcrhajjs at best it is to be
regarded as the least coniinon of those river ducks whose ai)ii(ar:m< <• in f>nr st.it<-
is anything more than accidental.

The gadwall remains, for the most part, closely secreted by day in the rccds
or high grasses which border our lakes and river lagoons, venturing out only at
dusk and feeding throughout the night. Its food seems to be largely vegetable,
the kaves and roots of aquatic plants and river tlotsam, obtained by diving or
dabbling. It is not, however, averse to varying its diet with occasional insects and
small fish. Not infrequently it feeds at considerable distance from water, in
stubble-fields and the like, after the fashion of the Mallard. Such visits are, how-
ever, strictly nocturnal. lU-cause of its careful feeding the flesh of this duck is
highly prized for the table.

The nesting of the (ladwall has been reported by Mr. Charles Dury from the
Grand Reservoir. It breeds sparingly wherever found, but its better known
haunts are the sloughs of the northwestern prairie states. The nest is said to be
always placed on dry ground, but not very far from water. "A hollow is scooped
in the ground and well lined with strips or pieces of reeds, bits of dry grass and
weed stems, or whate\ er material can be most easily gathered in the vicinity, mixed
witli down from the bird's l)reast and profusely lined with dark gray down around
the eggs." Ten or eleven eggs are commonly laid. The birds are close sitters,
but even then great care must be taken to distinguish them from the more common
Baldpate.

Though seemingly as well fitted for the struggle for existence as any of its
fellows, the gadwall apparently was never very abundant in any part of its range.
Formerly it was not uncommon in New England and in the Middle and Eastern
States, but for a quarter of a century or more the bird has been practically un-
known to the sportsmen of the Atlantic seacoast, though still found in considerable
numbers in Texas, and other Western States. I have never seen the gadwell in
large flocks, but usually singl}' or by twos or threes in company with ducks of
other species, and such seems to have been the experience of many other observers.
It is a denizen of fresh water and is fond of shallow lakes and ponds, where its
habits somewhat resemble those of the mallard. It is a good diver when the need
arises, but usually finds little occasion for the exercise of its skill, since it frequents
the shallow margins of ponds and lakes in company with mallards and other
species. I have frequently seen the gadwall literally stand on its head in shallow
water grubbing for food on the muddy bottom, when only its feet and the tip of
its tail were sticking out. Its bill of fare is varied and includes aquatic grasses,
seeds, nuts, insects, mollusks. in short almost anv edible substance it can obtain.

.839

The Song Sparrow's Appeal

By George B. Griffith

Naturalists tell us that of all creatures below man, the largest animal brain in
proportion to the size of the body is found in horses and song-birds. Whatever
sense beyond instinct the little creature of whom we write may have had, some-
thing, at least, told it that it could obtain help at human hands.

A little sparrow the past season entered the kitchen of one of our country
homes, and perched upon the windowsill in evident distress. Its feathers were
ruffled, and its head ever and anon turned curiously around and up, as if looking at
something out of the house and above the window.

In and out it continued to hop, without intermission, regardless of all offers
of food, until the shutters were closed at twilight, and various were the surmises
as to the cause of its strange conduct.

Through the course of the following day the same scene was enacted, with-
out any clue appearing as to the cause of its distress.

At length, on the third morning, the mute petition for aid still continuing, one
of the family, bethinking herself of the bird's curious upturning of the head,
caught a new idea from it. Perhaps she might have a nest in the ivy that encircled
the window, and something might be amiss with its little household.

Going to the second story and looking down, the cause of the trouble was at
once manifest. A thick limb of the ivy had become loosened by the wind, and
fallen directly across the petitioner's nest. It was too heavy for the bird to
remove, and offered an insuperable difficulty in the way of her getting in to feed
her young — now almost lifeless.

The branch was quickly removed, when the mother-bird, pausing only for
a brief inspection of her brood, was on the wing in search of food. Her mate
soon joined her, and both were busy as quick wings, worked by hearty good will,
could make them.

Once only did the mother pause in her work — as if desirous to give expres-
sion to her gratitude, she reappeared upon the window-seat, and poured forth a
sweet and touching song, as of thankfulness to her benefactors.

She returned three successive seasons, to be noticed and fed at the same
spot where her acquaintance and familiarity with man first commenced.

We will add another similar incident, which is also absolutely true.

The correctness is vouched for by Mr. George Babbitt, late captain on Gen.
Gresham's staff, of which he himself was a witness.

During the fierce cannonading in one of the battles of the Civil War, a small
bird came and perched upon the shoulder of an artilleryman — the man designated,
we believe, as "No. 1," whose duty it is to force down the charge after the ammu-
nition is put in the gun. The piece was a "Napoleon," which makes a very loud
report, and the exact scene of this occurrence was at a place called "Nickajack."
The bird perched itself upon this man's shoulder and could not be driven from

840

its position by the violent motions of the j,'uniicr. \\'\nu llu- piece was discharged,
the poor httlc thing would run its beak and head up undrr tlic man's hair at the
back of the neck, and when the report (bed away would resume its place ui)on his
shoulder. Captain I'abbitt took the bird in hi> hand, but when released it imme-
diately resumed it^ \A:n:v (»n the shoulder of the smoke-begrimed gunner. The
singular and touching scene was witnessed by a large number of officers and men.
It may be a subject of curious iiujuiry, what instinct led this bird to thus i)lace
itself. Possibly, frightened at the violent commotion caused by the battle, and
not knowing how to escape or where to go, some instinct led it to throw itself
upon the gunner as a protector. But, whate\er the cause, the incident was a
most beautiful and pleasing one to all who witnessed it.

European Widgeon {Mareca penelope)

Range: Occurs occasional!) in winter and in migration from Wisconsin,
Michigan, New York, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Greenland south to
Nebraska, Missouri, Indiana, Ohio, North Carolina, and Florida, and in Alaska,
British Columbia and California.

In general appearance the European widgeon rather closely resembles our
baldpate. The males are easily identified, but a rather careful comparison is
needed to distinguish the females. For one thing the head and throat of the
female European widgeon are browner than the corresponding parts of our bald-
pate. A better distinguishing mark, however, is found in the axillars. or long
feathers under the wings of both sexes, as noted by Bangs. In our baldpate
these are white, while in the European widgeon they are gray. Particular atten-
tion is directed to these distinguishing marks, as sportsmen should know the
two birds apart, and thus be enabled to record the fact when they bring to bag
the European widgeon. The bird has long been known to occur in our waters,
but its presence has been thought to be only casual. Of late years it appears to
seek our shores in increasing numbers; at all events it is being reported oftener.
This is probably due less to an actual increase of numbers than to the fact that
sportsmen are becoming better acquainted with its aj)pearance. The bird may
indeed prove to be, as Forbush believes, a permanent resident of North America.
There are more records of its occurence along our Atlantic coast than elsewhere,
but the bird has been found also in Nebraska, California and Alaska. The habits
of the European widgeon while in our waters offer nothing particularly worthy
of note, as distinguished from those of our own baldpate. The call note of
the male. Saunders tells us, is a shrill whistling "whe'-you." whence the local
names "whewduck" and "whewer."

841

The American Dipper or Water Ouzel

{Cinclus mexicanus unicolor)
By C. Hart Merriam

No one who visits the mountainous region of western North America should
fail to visit some of the mountain streams with their cascades and pools and there
study the antics of the American Dipper or Water Ouzel. The song of this happy
bird — voiced even in winter — is well worthy the effort made to hear it. The
Dipper loves only the mountains ; it is not a bird of the level plains and it may
almost be said that is never visits these lowlands, even in the severest weather.
Its country extends from the Youkon Valley, on the north, to Guatemala, on the
south, and in the United States it may be found from near the Pacific ocean
eastward to the base of the eastern slope of the Rocky mountains. Mr. Lord, in
his "Birds of Oregon and Washington," says : "We all ought to know the thrice
fascinating ways of this bird, which belongs exclusively to our side of the
continent."

Our own country is not the only one that is favored with this interesting
bird, which belongs to a remarkable group that has sorely puzzled the ornitholo-
gist. He has been unable to place it in any family of birds with other species.
The Dippers form a distinct family (Cinclidse), which seems to have no very near
allies. There are perhaps ten or twelve species which inhabit the mountainous
regions of the northern hemisphere.

The name Dipper was first given to this bird by the English ornithologist,
Bewick, and refers to its habit of standing on some perch and tilting its body in
such a manner as to give a nodding motion to its head. Bewick himself says of
the Dipper : "It may be seen perched on the top of a stone in the midst of the
torrent, in a continual dipping motion, or short courtesy often repeated." Probably
because of its habit of seeking food in the water, as the common crow does upon
the land, the Dipper is sometimes called the Water-crow.

The Dipper has been called a "dumpy" bird, but it is surely the opposite of
what that word ought to mean. It is a bird of great energy and activity and in the
romantic places that it inhabits it seems to delight in leading an observer to fol-
lowing it along the banks of some canyon stream. Chirping, it will hop from stone
to stone as the observer follows. With a jerking motion of the tail it will con-
tinue leading until it reaches a pool, perhaps formed at the base of a cascade at the
upper end of the chasm. Here it will deliberately wade into the water and dis-
appear, to reappear some distance away, and probably on the opposite side of the
pool. -Mr. Lord says: "It is truly a 'queer' bird, and if one did not know its
habits and should some day see him plunge into a swift mountain stream and
disappear, he might su])pose he had witnessed a case of desperate bird-suicide.
But did he know this odd creature's ways, he would look for it to come up and
land on a rock at some point quite well below its place of plunge." Not only does
the Dipper enter the water for the purpose of gathering food from the bottom of

842

the stnaiii or pool. Imt appartiuly also to satisfy its love of water in the \hjo\, "the
rushing current and the (la>hinj^ cascatle."

Its nest is also built where not only the parents may enjoy the sound of the
falling waters, but also where the young may be trained and fed in the environ-
ment which they will occupy ever afterwards. The food of the Dij)per chielly
consists of the mollusks and fresh water insects, both in their larval and natural
states, that it finds as it makes its way along the Ixjttom by the combined action
of its wings and feet, it also feeds ujxju insect life upon the shore or that which
it may catch ujwn the surface of the water, as it stands ujKjn some stony perch.

The nest of the Dipper is usually placed in a niche of the rock slightly above
the stream or behind some cascade. The materials used vary somewhat and are
usually such as are to be found in the immediate vicinity. It is described as a
cup-shaped mass of grass and moss lined with dry leaves and fibers. It is covered
with a dome of moss arranged in such a manner as to completely cover the nest
excei)t for a small opening through which the bird passes in and out. The moisture
of the locality keeps the exterior of the nest green, causing it to look like a tuft of
moss — an excellent protection from enemies.

Mr. Cooke, in "The I5irds of Colorado," says: "The American Dipper re-
mains near open water all the year. In winter this brings it down to the foothills
and larger mountain streams, usually between six thousand and nine thousand
feet, but it has been noted clear down to the plains. Common all winter in the
Canyon of the Grand River as far down as Glenwood Springs, at about five thou-
sand five hundred feet, it moves back into the mountains as soon as the streams
thaw out in April and spends the summer from eight thousand feet to just below
the timber-line. There is no record of any nest being found lower than eight
thousand feet."

Steller's Eider {Polysticta stelleri)

Range: Breeds from Point JJarrow, Alaska, to northern coast of Siberia
and south to Aleutian Islands ; winters on Aleutian Islands and Kenai Peninsula.
Alaska, and south on the Asiatic coast to Kuril Islands.

Steller's hardy and beautiful duck is American by virtue of our possession of
Alaska, for even in winter it does not venture south as far as either the Atlantic
or the Pacific Coast States. According to Xelson the coast and islands of Bering
Sea constitute the eastern range of this eider, and it breeds by tens of thousands
on the North Siberian coast. Nelson found these ducks rather numerous in the
quiet waters of bays and fjords of the Aleutian Islands the last of May, but
they were very shy and he failed to secure a single individual. They winter
in such of the Alaskan bays as are free from ice. and at this season the natives
who depend upon them for winter food kill great numbers. This eider is a
true sea duck and Turner notes that it keeps well of¥ shore except in boisterous
weather. Needless to say then that its food consists of animal life gleaned
from the sea and that the bird is a skillful diver, reaching great depths and
staying under a long time, as do eiders generally.

843

The SwainSOn's Warbler (HeUnaia swainsoni)

By Mary Hyatt

Length : 5^ inches.

Swainson's Warbler has a peculiar and interesting history. This species
has the honor of being discovered, and then practically lost to sight for about
forty years.

In 1832, the Reverend John Bachman discovered this warbler, near Charles-
ton, South Carolina. The specimens were placed in the hands of Audubon,
who recognized that a new species had been found, and gave it the Latin name
that it now bears. In his "Birds of America," Audubon quotes the following
record of Mr. Bachman : "I was first attracted by the novelty of its notes, four
or five in number, repeated at intervals of five and six minutes apart. These
notes were loud, clear, and more like a whistle than a song. They resembled
the sounds of some extraordinary ventriloquist in such a degree that I supposed
the bird much further from me than it really was ; for after some trouble caused
by these fictitious notes, I perceived it near to me, and soon shot it.

"The form of its bill I observed at once to differ from all other known birds
of our country, and was pleased at its discovery."

Even at the present time, Swainson's warbler may be considered common
in only certain localities within its range, which may be given as including
the southern United States northward to North Carolina and Missouri and
east of Texas. It winters in the tropics.

The habits of this warbler make it a difficult bird to find. It is fastidious,
and as Mr. Brewster says, "four things seem indispensable to his existence,
viz. : water, tangled thickets, patches of cane, and a rank growth of semiaquatic
plants." Such localities are not only difficult to find, but also uninviting fields
to explore.

*Tt is ventriloquial to such a degree that there is often great difficulty in
tracing it to its source. You advance confidently enough at first, when suddenly
the sound comes from behind you. Retracing your steps, the direction is
again changed. Now it is to the right, shortly after to the left ; one moment
in the tree-tops overhead, the next among the bushes almost at your feet."

The Goldfinch

By Herbert Randall

Called also Wild Canary and Yellowbird.

Length : 5 inches. About 1 inch smaller than the English Sparrow.

Color: Winter: Male — Olive drab, shoulders and throat yellow, brownish
white underneath. Summer : bright yellow except on crown, frontlet, wings
and tail, which are black. Wings banded in white. Tail has white on inner webs.
Female — Brownish olive above, yellowish white beneath.

844

FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.

643

SWAINSONS WARBLER.

(Helinaia swainsonii).

Aliout Life-size.

COPTRIGMT I»04, BY «. W. MUMFOHD. CMC<

Hangc: Common in N'orlli America from the tropics to the lur countries
and west to California.

Migrations: May, October. Common summer resident, often seen ni
winter as well.

Does every ciiild know that the goldtinch has a si)arrowy look in the winter
season? And he should have, for he belongs to the same family. His jjlumage
in the winter months is a blending of dull grays and browns, quite unlike the
brilliant yellow and jet black of his summer suit. In April as he comes from
the thick woods, where he has wintered, he appears in breeding plumage. These
changes of plumage are eflfected by moults which take place in the autumn and
again in early spring. There is less change in the plumage of his mate; the olive
green and yellow of her '^ummer dress is replaced by the dull grays and browns
of winter.

Many boys and girls call the goldfinches wild canaries. They are not
canaries but finches; for their habits of .song, flight and food-getting are very
much like the sparrows and finches. They also are known erroneously as thistle
birds, and yellowbirds.

Watch a pair of them feeding upon the seeds of the thistle, wild lettuce
and mustard. Do you know of a prettier moving picture as they flit from one
stalk to another, illuminating each separate plant with the shining gold of their
well-formed bodies? Last summer a pair of them came almost daily to the
vegetable oyster plants that grew outside our garden fence. I loved to watch
them pull the slender, chafTy seeds from the long capsule, taking with each
billful the seed part and letting the chaff drop to the ground. Their food consists
chiefly of all kinds of weed seeds, especially the seeds of ragweed, muflein.
dandelion and sunflower. In summer they eat some insects, such as plant lice
and young grasshoppers.

Everybody loves the goldfinch's song. It is a sweet, spontaneous medley
of rippling slurs and trills that charms the most wayward ear. Listen to him
as he sits on the garden fence singing his mating song, and when he goes
bounding over the frozen fields calling "per-chi-o-re," and again when he settles
down in a patch of weeds uttering his feeding notes, "twee, twee, twee, twee."

Have you ever seen the gol Ifinch's nest? They build late; some time after
the fourth of July. Collecting some bits of bark, grass fibers and down, the
female forms them into a compact waterproof nest. This she lines with plant
down — thistle, lettuce and dandelion silk. What a beautiful thing it is! So
skilfully made and formed, as if it had grown into shape like the saucer of
an acorn ! In this almost water-tight, silk-lined nest from three to six bluish-
white eggs are laid. The eggs are quite small and a spotless white.

845

The Shoveler {Spatula clypeata)

Synonyms. — Spoon-bill Duck ; Broad-bill.

Description. — Adult male: Head and neck sooty black, overlaid, especially
above, with glossy green and glancing metallic blue or purple ; lower neck and
fore-breast pure white ; lower breast, belly, and sides purplish chestnut, the longer
side-feathers dusky-barred ; back, narrowly, greenish dusky, becoming greenish
black on rump and behind, and glossy green on sides of upper tail-coverts ; crissum
black, separated from belly anteriorly by white, finely undulated with dusky ; white
flank-patches ; inner scapulars white, and inner tertiaries white-striped ; wing-
coverts and outer webs of outer tertiaries light grayish blue ; the posterior row of
coverts greenish dusky at base, broadly white-tipped ; speculum glossy green
bounded on either side by dusky; primaries dusky; axillars and lining of wing
white ; bill spatulate, the upper mandible much broader at tip than lower and
enclosing it; lamellae prominent, deep black; feet orange-red; iris brown. Adult
female: Wings much as in male, but duller; scapulars like back and tertiaries not
striped ; upper parts, except head and neck, plain fuscous glossed posteriorly with
greenish ; remaining plumage buffy or bufify white, spotted with brownish fuscous ;
head and neck narrowly streaked with dusky ; lower breast tinged with brownish ;
bill brown above, orange below. Young male: Like adult female but colors
heavier, and belly tinged with chestnut. Young female: Similar to adult but
wing-coverts dull slaty gray, only faintly tinged with bluish or greenish ; speculum
not so extensively glossy green. Length 17.00-21.00 (431.8-533.4); wing 9.00-
10.00 (228.6-254.) ; tail 3.00-3.50 (76.2-88.9) ; culmen 2.50-2.90 (63.5-73.7) ;
breadth of bill near tip 1.20 (30.5) ; tarsus 1.50 (38.1).

Recognition Marks. — Smaller than mallard ; bill broadened at tip distinctive ;
male with white breast and rich chestnut belly.

Nest, on the ground in or near swamp, lined with weed-stalks and grasses, or
reeds. Eggs, 6-10, pale bluish or greenish gray. Av. size, 2.12x1.48 (53.9x37.6).

Range. — Northern Hemisphere. In North America breeding from Alaska to
Texas ; not abundant on the Atlantic Coast north of the Carolinas.

Fortunately the Spoonbill Duck bears about with it a ready mark of identifi-
cation, so that the diminishing numbers which appear in March or early April do
not escape the notice of the ornithologist. The broad flattened bill indicates that
its possessor is a gourmet of discriminating taste and unique opportunity. Most
of the river ducks are obliged to depend more or less upon the senses of touch
and taste rather than sight as they encounter food below the surface of the water,
but in the case of the Shoveler these senses are developed to an extraordinary
degree. The bird evidently feeds somewhat after the manner of the Right Whale,
by filling its mouth at random and then ejecting the water through the mouth-
parts, to retain in the lamell.'e whatever is of value. The tongue of the duck is
also modified, being provided with specialized taste papillae to enable it to dis-
criminate meat from poison; while as for plain dirt, the bird is probably willing
to take its traditional peck any given day. Insects and vegetable matter, as well as

846

luimitc forms (jf litr oi all kinds make up lliis lowly epicure's fare, and its flesh is
everywhere held in hijjh esteem.

Ourinj^' migrations the Shoveler appears usually in small llocks of its own
species, or in company with liluehiils. It is occasionally seen upon the smaller
ponds and rivers, and in its sumnu-r and winter haunts will explore the tiniest
ditches and pools.

Dr. W'heaton supposed that these hirds nesteil in the iKjrthern part (jf the
state, and they may have tlone so ; but their present breeding range lies almost
entirely within the northern tier of western states and further north to Alaska,
'he nest is an unjjretentious depression lined with grasses and d(jwn, an«l is
placed either near water or remote from it. on a tiny islet, in a convenient corner
of the swamp, or anywhere in open country.

The Shoveler is cosmoj)olitan in its range and, while no longer common in the
eastern states, it is still numerous in several states of the far west where it breeds.
The Shoveler likes reedy ponds and sloughs, where it grubs in the shallows, and
obtains a rich feast of insects, tadpoles, worms, and larvre of various kinds, which
its shovel-shaped bill seems expressly designed to enable it to scoop up and strain
out of the reedy ooze. I'y many it is accounted one of our best table-ducks. And
as it is not shy and is often killed in large numbers, it has suli'ered a notable de-
crease in mnnbcrs. The Shoveler is a swift flier and is capable of enduring flight,
as is apparent from the fact that amuially it finds its way from Alaska over the
2,000 miles of intervening ocean to the Hawaiian Islands. There it winters, and
the few that escape the ardent pursuit of the island sportsmen retrace their way
:icr(jss the tractless ocean in spring for the purpose of nesting.

Spectacled Eider {Arctonetta fischen)

Range: lirceds in Alaska from i'oint luirrow to mouth of Kuskokwim,
nd on the northern coast of Siberia west to mouth of Lena River; winters on
Vleutian Islands.

Nelson's observations show this .species to be strictly limited to the salt

. larshes bordering the east coast of Bering Sea, and thus favoring the shallow,

luddy. coast waters, which appear so distasteful to Steller's eider. The same

b^^erver estimates that, all told, the spectacled eider does not occupy over 400

miles of coast line in the breeding season, w^hile the w'idth of the breeding ground

will not exceed one or two miles. Writing as long ago as 1881, Nelson said

»f the struggle for existence the species was even then undergoing: "The species

has to contend against thousands of shotgims in the hands of the natives. The

diminution in all the species of waterfowl breeding along the coast is more

and more marked each season, and while this may mean a desertion of one region

'or another in the case of the great majority of geese and ducks, yet for such

narrowly-limited species as the spectacled eider, and to a less extent the emperor

^oose. this diminution is but the beginning of extermination ; moreover, the present

carcity of large game along the coast is having great effect in causing the natives

o wage a continually increasing warfare upon the feathered game."

847

The Rivoli Hummingbird {Eugenes fuigens)

By Lynds Jones

Length : 4 inches.

In that wonderful and magnificent book "A Monograph of the Trochilidse,"
the family of hummingbirds, Mr. John Gould, the author, writing of his expe-
riences with these mites of bird life, says :

"How vivid is my recollection of the first hummingbird which met my
admiring gaze ! With what delight did I examine its tiny body and feast my
eyes on its glittering plumage ! These early impressions, I well remember, grad-
ually increased into an earnest desire to attain a more intimate acquaintance
with the lovely group of birds to which it pertained. During the first twenty
years of my acquaintance with these wonderful works of creation my thoughts
were often directed to them in the day, and my dreams have not unfrequently
carried me to their native forests in the distant country of America."

These birds have ever been an inspiration to the poet. How beautiful are
these lines of Maurice Thompson, addressed to the hummingbird:

Zephyr loves thy wings

Above all lovable things,
And brings them gifts with rapturous murmurings.
Thine is the golden reach of blooming hours ;

Spirit of flowers !

Thou art a winged thought

Of tropical hours.
With all the tropics' rare bloom-splendor frought;
Surcharged with beauty's indefinable powers.

Angel of flowers !

It seems cruel and strange that any person should kill these tiny creatures
especially for ornamental purposes. They are the gems of nature, yet one day,
in the year 1888, over twelve thousand skins of hummingbirds were sold in
London. "And in one week during the same year there were sold at auction,
in that city, four hundred thousand hummingbirds and other birds from North
and South America, the former doubtless comprising a very considerable per-
centage of the whole number." When we remember that the hummingbird lays
but two eggs, the rapid extermination of some of the species is evident unless
this wholesale slaughter is stopped. Even the tropics, where bird life is won-
derfully abundant, cannot support such wanton destruction.

The Rivoli, or the Refulgent hummingbird, as it is frequently called, has
a very limited range. It is found in the "mountains of southeastern Arizona,
southwestern New Mexico and over the table lands of Mexico," southward to
Nicaragua. It is one of the largest and most beautiful of the hummingbirds that

848

rn Z

^00

frequent the United States. Its royal appearance led Lesson, in the year 1829,
to name it Rivoli, in honor of M. Massena, the Duke of KivoH. It is noted
"for tlie l)eauty of its coloring^ and the bold style of its markings."

Mr. Salvin, writin{.j of the pugnacious character of this species, says: "Many
a time have I thought to secure a fine male, which 1 had, perhaps, been follow-
ing from tree to tree, and had at last seen ([uietly perched on a leafless twig,
when my deadly inteiuion has been anticipated by one less so in fact, but to
all appearances equally so in will. Another hummingbird rushes in, knocks the
one I covet off his i)erch, and the two go lighting and screaming away at a pace
hardly to be followed by the eye. Another time this Hying fight was sustained
in miilair, the belligerents mounting higher and higher, until the one worsted
in battle darts away seeking shelter, followed by the victor, who never relin-
quishes the pursuit till the vanquished, by doubling and hiding, succeeds in mak-
ing his escape." Not only do they resent the presence of their own kind, but
also of other hummingbirds.

Mr. II. W. llenshaw, who was the first scientist to discover that the Rivoli
was a member of the bird fauna of the United States, thus describes its nest:
"It is composed of mosses nicely woven into an almost circular cup, the interior
possessing a lining of the softest and downiest feathers, while the exterior is
elaborately covered with lichens, which are securely bound on by a network of
the finest silk from spiders' webs. It was saddled on the horizontal limb of
an alder, about twenty feet above the bed of a running mountain stream, in a
glen which was overarched and shadowed by several huge spruces, making it
one of the most shady and retired nooks that could imagine."

The note of this bird gem of the pine-clad mountains is a "twittering sound,
louder, not so shrill and uttered more slowly than those of the small hummers."

As the Rivoli hovers over the mescal and gathers from its flowers the numer-
ous insects that infest them; or, as it takes the sweets from the flowers of the
boreal honeysuckle, one is reminded of the words of the poet:

"Art thou a bird, a bee, or butterfly?"
"Each and all three — a bird in shape am I,

A bee collecting sweets from bloom to bloom,

A butterfly in Ijrilliancy of plume."

849

The Spotted Sandpiper or "Peet-Weet"

By Thomas Nuttall

The Peet-weet is one of the most famiHar and common of all the New
England marsh birds, arriving along our river shores and low meadows about
the beginning of May. As soon as it arrives on the coast small roving flocks
are seen at various times of the day, coursing rapidly along the borders of
our tide-water streams. Flying swiftly and rather low, in circular sweeps alon^
the meanders of the rock and river, and occasionally crossing from side to
side, they now present a more sportive and cheerful mien than they assume at
the close of autumn when foraging becomes less certain. While flying out
in these wild circuits, agitated by feelings superior to those of hunger and neces-
sity, we hear the shore reecho the shrill and rapid whistle of 'weet, 'weet, 'weet,
'weet, the note usually closing with something like a warble as they approach
their companions on the strand. The cry then varies to peet, 'weet, 'weet, 'weet,
becoming high and gradually declining into a somewhat plaintive tone. As
the season advances our lively little marine wanderers often trace the streams
some distance into the interior, resting usually in fresh meadows along the
grass, sometimes even near the house ; and .1 have seen their eggs laid in a
strawberry bed where the young and old, pleased with the protection afforded
them, familiarly fed and probed the margin of the adjoining duck-pond for
their usual fare of worms and insects.

These birds have the very frequent habit of balancing or wagging the tail,
in which even the young join as soon as they are fledged. From the middle to
the close of May the pairs, receding from their companions, seek out a place for
the nest, which is always in a dry, open field of grass or grain, sometimes in
the seclusion and shade of a field of corn, but most commonly in a dry pasture
contiguous to the seashore. In some of the solitary and small sea islands several
pairs sometimes make their nests near each other, in the immediate vicinity of
the noisy nurseries of the quailing Terns.

On being flushed from her eggs the female goes off without uttering any
complaint, but when surprised with her young she practices all sorts of dissimula-
tion common to many other birds, fluttering in the path as if badly wounded, and
generally proceeds in this way so far as to deceive a dog and cause it to overlook
her brood for whose protection these instinctive arts are practiced. Nor are the
young without their artful instinct, for on hearing the reiterated cries of their
parents they scatter about and squatting still in the withered grass almost exactly
their color, it is with careful search very difficult to discover them, so that in nine
times out of ten they would be overlooked.

At a later period the shores and marshes resound with the quick, clear and
oft-repeated note of peet-zveet, peet-wcct, followed up by a plaintive call of the
young of pect, peet, peet, peet. If this is not answered by the scattered brood a
reiterated 'zveef, 'weet, 'weet, 'wait, 'wait, 'ivait is heard, the voice dropping on the

850

final syllables. The whole niar-<h and >hore at times echoes to this loud, lively
and sometimes solicitous call of the atTectiouate parents for their brood. The
cry, of course, is most frequent toward evening, when the little family, separated
by the necessity of scatterinjj themselves over the ground in quest of food, are
desirous of again reassembling to roost.

The young, as soon as hatched, run about the grass and utter from the first a
weak, plaintive peep, at length more fretjuent and audible, and an imitation of the
whistle of pcct-ii'cct is almost sure to be met with an answer from the sympathiz-
ing broods, which now throng our marshes. When the notes appear to be
answered the parents hurry and repeat their call with great quickness. Young
and old previous to their (lcj)arture frequent the seashores, but never associate
with other kinds, nor become gregarious, living always in families till the time of
their dejjarture, which usually occurs about the middle of October.

IvedhCtld (Marila americana)

Range: Breeds from southern British Columbia, central Alberta, central
Saskatchewan, and southwestern Keewatin south to southern California, Utah,
southern South Dakota, southern Minnesota, and southern Wisconsin ; winters
from southern British Columbia, Utah, Xew Mexico, Kansas, Illinois, Maryland,
Delaware, and Massachusetts south to southern Lower California, central Mexico,
and Florida.

In the minds of epicures and sportsmen the redhead is closely associated
with the canvas-back. Both species often frequent the same feeding grounds
and, as the redhead is as expert at diving as its cousin, it has no difficulty in
obtaining its share of the coveted wild celery. This naturally imparts to its
flesh the same highly prized flavor which constitutes the canvas-back's chief
claim to distinction, and he must possess a delicate taste indeed who can dis-
tinguish the difference. Yet, at times there is much in a name and our redhead
pays for his taste for celery and his general undesirable likeness to the canvas-
back by being sold in the market as bona fide canvas-back. The redhead is
much more numerous east of the Rocky Mountains than to the west of that
chain and, while many visit the bays and estuaries of the east coast, the duck's
preference appears to be for inland lakes and ponds where it subsists upon
various aquatic plants, as also upon insects, snails, acorns, beechnuts, and in fact,
upon almost anything that is edible by waterfowl standards. Under such cir-
cumstances its flesh is no whit better than that of a dozen other species. Of
late years a serious reduction of the numbers of this fine fowl has occurred,
but it is believed that the abolition of spring shooting will materially aid in
checking further decrease.

851

The Hermit Thrush

By Harry Edward Miller

Thou dweller in the quiet wood ;
Thou singer of ecstatic mood,

Not in thy pure theme is heard
The lark in song above his brood ;
The English blackbird's message good ;
Or the nightingale's interlude,

That have oft the listener stirred.

But here in forest land remote

The new world knows thy magic throat ;

That music of a soul serene;
That spirit which in tranquil note
Doth through the mystic forest float
In melody that always must denote

Word from a land no eyes have seen.

Under the lofty Druid trees.

No sweeter sound upon the breeze

Is borne like his lyric-anthem rare !
The lark is on the open leas ;
In clover field the hum of bees ;
But the woodland old this poet sees,

Who sings of a far country fair.

Who tells as one who has returned
From where celestial secrets learned,

He breathes upon the forest ways ;
He speaks as one far more concerned
Of countries we dimly have discerned ;
And his note our thought hath turned,

And lifted up our wistful gaze.

Audubon's Oriole {icterus anduhonU)

The name oriole is from the French word oriol, which is a corruption of the
Latin word aureolus, meaning golden. The name was originally applied to a
vire, but is now used in a much wider sense and includes a number of birds.

The true orioles are birds of the Old World and are closely related to the
thrushes. It is said that no fewer than twenty species from Asia and Africa have
been described.

852

The orioles of America belong to a very different group of birds and arc
related t(j our blackbirds, the bobolink and the nieadowlark. All these birds
belong to the family Ictcridac, the rc|)resentativcs of which are confined to the
New World.

The genus (jf (jrioles ( icteru.s; contains about fjjrty species, chiefly natives
of C eiural and South America. 'Ihe jilumage of nearly all the species is more or
less colored with shades of yellow, (jrangc and black.

.Audubon's Oriole, the male of which we illustrate, has a very limited range,
including the "valley of the Lower Kio (Irande in Texas and s(juthward in Mexico
to Oaxaca." It is more common in central and eastern Mexiio than in any other
part of its range. In the summer, it only frc(iuents the den>er ftircsts of its Texas
home, but during the winter months it will approach the inhabited regions.

The Mexicans capture these Orioles and offer them for sale. In captivity,
however, they seem to lose their vivacity and will n(it sing. "When free their
usual song is a prolonged and rej)cated whistle of extraordinary mellowness and
sweetness, each note varying in pitch from the preceding."

It is said that this beautiful bird is frequently called ujKjn to becoiue the foster
parents of the otYspring of some of those birds that have neither the inclination to
build their own nests or to raise their own families. The ingenious nests of the
orioles seem to be especially attractive tf) these tramp birds which possess parasitic
tastes.

The red-eyed cowbird (Collothrus robustus), of the Southern United States
and Central America, seems to be the pest that infests the homes of Audubon's
Oriole. It has been stated that the majority of the sets of eggs collected from
the nests of this Oriole contain one or more of the cowbird's eggs. It is also
probable that many of the Oriole's eggs are destroyed by the cowbirds as well as
by other agencies, and thus, though the raising of two broods the same season is
frefjuently attempted, the species is far from abundant.

Regarding the nesting habits of the .Audubon's Oriole. Captain Charles Ben-
dire says. '"The nest of this Oriole is usually placed in mcsquite trees, in thickets
and open woods, from six to fourteen feet from the ground. It is a semipensile
structure, woven of fine, wire-like grass used while still green and resembles those
of the hooded and orchard orioles, which are much better known. The nest is
firmly attached, both on the top and sides, to small branches and growing twigs
and, for the size of the bird, it appears rather small. r)ne now before me measures
three inches in depth inside by about the same in inner diameter. The rim of the
nest is somewhat contracted to prevent the eggs from being thrown out during
high winds. The inner lining consists of somewhat finer grass tops, which still
retain considerable strength and are even now', when perfectly dry, difficult to
break. Only a single nest of those found was placed in a bunch of Spanish moss
and this was suspended within reach of the ground ; the others were attached to
small twigs."

853

Violet Green Swallow {Tachydneta thalassina lepida)

By Lynds Jones

Length : About 6 inches.

The Violet-green Swallow is one of the most beautiful of the Hirundinidse,
or family of swallows. There are about eighty species of the family, and they are
world-wide in their distribution. These tireless birds seem to pass almost the
entire day on the wing in pursuit of insects, upon which they feed almost exclu-
sively. They can outfly the birds of prey, and the fact that they obtain their food
while flying enables them to pursue their migrations by day and to rest at night.

The Violet-green Swallow frequents the Pacific Coast from British Columbia
on the north, southward in the winter to Guatemala and Costa Rica. Its range
extends eastward to the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains.

Its nest, which is made of dry grass and copiously lined with a mass of
feathers, is variously placed. Sometimes the knot-holes of oaks and other de-
ciduous trees are selected. They have also been known to use the deserted homes
of the cliff swallow. Mr. Allen states that they "nest in abandoned woodpeckers'
holes, but at the Garden of the Gods and on the divide between Denver and Colo-
rado City, we found the building in holes in the rocks." This swallow is quite
common in western Colorado, where they have been observed on the mountain
sides at an altitude of eight to over ten thousand feet. In "The Birds of Colo-
rado," Mr. W. W. Cooke says : "A few breed on the plains, but more commonly
from six to ten thousand five hundred feet" above the level of the sea. He also
adds that they begin laying late in June or early in July and desert the higher
regions in August and the lower early in September.

The notes of this exquisite bird are described by an observer, who says that
they "consist of a rather faint warbling twitter, uttered as they sit on some low
twig, their favorite perch ; when flying about, they seem to be rather silent."

The violet-green swallows, like their sister species, usually nest and migrate
in colonies.

Hud soman God wit {Limosa haemasHca)

Range: Breeds from the lower Anderson River southeast to central Kee-
watin ; winters in Argentina, Patagonia and the Falkland Islands.

Nothing less than two continents suffice to satisfy the roving disposition of
the Hudsonian godwit which, according to Cooke, probably breeds on the
barren ground from the mouth of the Mackenzie to Hudson Bay. The species
winters in Argentina and Chile and after leaving our northeast coast probably
reaches winter quarters by an all-sea route. On the return journey in spring
the godwit reaches Texas in April, and follows up the Mississippi Valley, thus,
in a general way, duplicating the route of the golden plover. The Hudsonian
godwit has been greatly aided in its struggle with fate in the shape of merciless
sportsmen by the fact that its breeding grounds arc in a distant and desolate

854

X

500

VIOLET-GREEN SWALLOW.

(Tachycineta thalassina )

* :. Life-sizt^.

COFVRMmT IMS, lY '

region where its parental duties are little interfered with. Though today more
numerous than the marbled godwit, its destiny is equally sure and almost as
imminent. Nothing short of absolute protection for a term of years will save
the species from extinction. L'nder the I'edcral regulations, the liudsonian
godwit, like some of its relatives, is given a close season till 1918. Such regula-
tions are easy to enact, but arc difficult of enforcement, especially in remote
districts, and unless the cordial co-oj)eration of the devotees of the shotgun can
be secured, the fate of this species, and some others as well, is only too certain.

To a Woods Wren

By W. F. Lcavell

Tiny bird, so wee, ])ut friendly.

As you hop about so near.

With your ])laintive notelet clear;
It is well the woods are quiet.

Else I had not known you here.
Miles from human habitation,
How so free from trepidation ?
Why your pert investigation,

And for me your lack (jf tear?

You, of birds, if not the smallest.

Are most wonderfully frail :

But the jiride that you exhale
Worthy is of something larger.

If criteria do not fail,
You're indulging in reflection :
"Smallness is itself protection ;
But take note of my perfection —

It tooks years to grow this tail.''

Animated, feathered atom,

As a bluffer you excel ;

How you perk and strut and swell.
As you look askance, so knowing.

From the brush heap where you dwell !
Though, in truth, your look pedantic
Seems to me a joke gigantic.
And I smile at each brave antic ;

Little bird. I wish you well.

— Dumb Animals.

855

Pacific Elder {SomateHa dresseri)

Range: Breeds from southern Ungava and Newfoundland to southeastern
Maine, and on southern half of Hudson Bay; winters from Newfoundland and
Gulf of St. Lawrence south on Atlantic coast regularly to Alassachusetts.

The American eider is the eider of northeastern North America, and differs
only slightly from its European representative, the "northern eider," from which
is derived much of the eiderdown of commerce. The female anticipates the needs
of her ducklings for a warm and soft bed by lining the nest with down plucked
from her own breast. But this downy lining is coveted by the Icelanders, who
regard the summer's crop of down as a substantial addition to their annual harvest
and who accordingly appropriate it. The male, equally solicitous for the welfare
of the nestlings, in turn denudes his breast of its down and replaces the lining.
This also is taken, after which the pair are allowed to rear their brood in peace.
Needless to say, the eider is carefully protected in Iceland, and hence the crop of
down is a perennial one. This duck was formerly abundant and indeed nested
along the coast from Maine northward. Eiders are much less numerous than
formerly within our territory, for the sufficient reason that they have been ruth-
lessly killed. No doubt they would soon be extinct were it not for the fact that
they breed in the north far from harm. The eider is a true marine duck and well
deserves the title of "sea duck" bestowed upon it by gunners. So hardy are these
birds that they choose to keep to the open sea during the severest storms, and rely
for their preservation on their unsurpassed powers of swimming and diving.
Eiders live largely upon mussels, which they secure in fifty feet or more of water.
Dependent in no wise upon man and doing him no harm, they ask only for the
universal boon of life.

Ring-Necked Duck {MarUa coiians)

Range : Breeds from southern British Columbia to northern California, and
from northern Alberta and Lake Winnipeg south to North Dakota, northern Iowa,
and southern Wisconsin ; winters from southern British Columbia, New Mexico,
northern Texas, southern Illinois, and New Jersey south to Porto Rico and Gaute-
mala.

So much alike are the ring-neck and the lesser scaup in size, flight, and general
appearance that it is only when the sportsman has bagged his bird that he can
fully assure himself of its identity. Without doubt the ring-neck is much more
uncommon in the Atlantic States than formerly, though Chapman states that in
winter it is still abundant on the Florida fresh-water lakes. It is fairly numerous
in migration in the far West in the marshes of large ponds and lakes, and still
continues to breed in considerable numbers in Minnesota and North Dakota and
perhaps elsewhere in our northern frontier states. I have never seen the ring-
neck in large flocks, so characteristic of the scaups, and usually have observed it

856

either in small ccjiiipanies consisting exclusively of its own species, or associated
in large Hocks of other species, and such, I believe, has been the experience of most
other observers. The ring-neck has no fondness for salt water, but is pre-emi-
nently a fresh-water species. Like other members of the genus it is an excellent
diver, and where wild celery is to be had, gets its share of the coveted grass. In
point of excellence for the table it may be ranked with the two scau|)s, but does not
equal the redhead or canvas-back.

Great Scaup Duck {Mariia mariia)

Range: lireeds from .\lculian Islaiuls, northwestern Alaska, Great Slave
Lake, and central Keewatin south to southern liritish Columbia and northern
North Dakota; winters from Maine to Florida aii<l tin- Bahamas, and from
Aleutian Islands, Nevada, Colorado, and Lake (Ontario south to southern Cali-
fornia, southern New Mexico and southern Texas.

Both on the east and west coast the scaup duck is emphatically a bay or
estuary species and prefers salt or brackish water. I'ormcrly it frequented such
localities in flocks of thousands, often associated with the lesser scaup from which
it is not readily distinguishable at a distance. Notwithstanding the fact that both
scaups breed chiefly in the far North, their numbers have been greatly depleted
of recent years, and the immense rafts that formerly used to gladden the heart
of the sportsman are things of the past. The greater scaup used to winter in great
numbers in the estuaries of the Gulf States, and in the troubled waters of Lake
Borgne. In heavy gales, I have seen "rafts" of bobbing, black heads that appa-
rently extended for miles. Even in those days (1871) the scaup had learned
wisdom, and in open water it was only with great difficulty that a shot was to be
obtained from skilT or sail boat. As the craft approached nearly within range
the birds rose in dense masses and settled down a safe distance ahead, to repeat
the performance till the patience of the sportsman was exhausted. Both scaups
are expert divers, and are formidable competitors of the canvas-back and redhead
in their quest for the rootstocks of wild celery. In the interior their food is much
hke that of other ducks, and many of the insects, snails, and other food they eat,
including wild rice, are obtained without the trouble of diving.

857

Nesting of the Gadwall

By Gerard Alan Abbott

The Gadwall is more southerly in its breeding range than most ducks of its
genus. Although they nest commonly in Alberta, Assiniboia and Manitoba, a large
percentage of Gadwalls breed south of the Canadian border. Near Los Angeles,
California, the Gadwell has been known to lay her eggs as early as the first of
April.

Among the small lakes of North and South Dakota and Minnesota it is one
of the commonest of ducks during the nesting season. Northern Wisconsin and
Michigan are the summer homes of the Gadwall, but it becomes scarcer west of
the Mississippi River. In the above mentioned states this duck arrives from the
South in the latter part of March or in April. During the month of October it
departs from its breeding grounds, gradually wending its way southward as the
cold weather approaches.

The Gadwall is usually a bird of the open country, such as the prairie regions
of the northwest. It nests at Shoal Lake and Lake Manitoba, Canada. About
Devils Lake, North Dakota, the Gadwall commences to lay her eggs about the
first of June, sometimes earlier, and fresh "sets'' are not uncommon up to the
first of July.

The nest is placed near water, preferably on high ground, and generally con-
cealed by tall weeds or brush. The parent bird sometimes selects a tuft of grass
or clump of rushes in an open place, which would seem to offer very little protec-
tion were it not for the dull colored female who so closely harmonizes with her
surroundings that she allows herself to be almost stepped upon before leaving her
eggs. One writer refers to the Gadwall as sometimes nesting in trees, but I can
find no records that verify his statement. Let her leave the nest voluntarily and
so deftly will she conceal her eggs by covering them with down and grass that
even the trained eye of the naturalist is often baffled while searching for the hidden
treasures.

The eggs average two and five-hundredths inches long by one and fifty-hun-
dredths inches wide and range from seven to twelve in number. Their color is
creamy buff, elliptical in shape and with a moderately polished surface. Gad-
wall's eggs have a richer, warmer hue than those of the baldpate with which they
are often confused, but those of the latter are a paler buff, approaching white.

In certain localities where the Gadwall is known to breed, they show a
decided preference for islands in small lakes, or a slight elevation in a bayou or
lagoon. In such situations several nests of the Gadwall may be found within a
radius of a few rods and frequently the baldpates take up their abodes in close
proximity to their near relatives.

Among the many wet depressions, pot-holes and ponds of North Dakota, few,
if any, appear complete without the characteristic muskrat houses. I have passed
such places on the hottest days of June and have seen the rat house literally cov-

858

crcd with dinks, mostly drakes, and aniun;,' llicin were a goodly number of
Gadwalls, all dozinp in the sunshine and expressing no fear whatever at my
intrusion.

The nest and nine e^j^s slunvn in the illustration were taken on the fifteenth
of June, 1900, near Graham's Island, Devils Lake, North Dakota. The eggs rested
in a slight hollow in the earth, which was snugly lined with down and sheltered
hy the weeds and grass which covered the island upon which the ne.st was located.

American Merganser {Mergus amerkanus)

Range: Breeds from southern Alaska, southern Yukon, Great Slave I^ke.
central Keewatin, southern Ungava, and Newfoundland south to central Oregon,
southern South Dakota, southern Minnesota, central Michigan, northern New
York and northern New England ; winters from Aleutian Islands, British Colum-
bia, Idaho, northern Colorado, southern Wisconsin, southern Ontario, northern
New England, and New Brunswick south to Lower California, northern Mexico,
Texas, Louisiana, and Florida.

The narrow, serrated bill of the goosander as contrasted with the broad,
smooth bills of most ducks would suggest to the merest tyro that its habits
must differ wi<icly from those of most of its kin. In fact, the goosander's bill,
with its saw-like teeth, is specially adapted to seizing and holding slippery prey
of various kinds including small fish which, though not its sole food, constitute
the most important part of it. Water insects, frogs, and crawfish, are by no
means disdained. The goosander's long, narrow body eminently fits it for swift
progress under water where it spends much of its time. Cold weather and ice
have no terrors for it. and the bird may winter wherever open water is assured,
provided only that food is abundant. Not many goosanders remain within our
territory to breed, and these retire to the mountains where they find along the
foaming mountain torrents the surroundings they prefer. The merganser fol-
lows the general custom among ducks and nests on the ground, but unlike
many it nests also in hollows of trees. As it does not associate in large flocks
and has learned to care well for its safety, the bird is holding its own ver>' well.

859

Red -Breasted Merganser (Mergus serrator)

Range: Breeds from Arctic coast of Alaska, northern Mackenzie, Cum-
berland Sound, and Greenland (lat. 73°) south to southern British Columbia,
southern Alberta, southern Minnesota, central Wisconsin, northern New York,
and southern Maine ; winters in southern Greenland, Commander Islands, and
from southern British Columbia, Utah, Colorado, southern Wisconsin, southern
Ontario, and Maine south to southern Lower California, Louisiana and Florida.

The red-breasted merganser is the second of our mergansers in size, and
while its habits in general correspond well with those of the larger goosander,
they differ in some important respects. The red-breast, for instance, frequents
salt water far more than its relative, though it, too, inhabits the interior lakes
and pounds. It swims and dives with wonderful skill, and in clear, rapid moun-
tain streams, even the swift and wary trout is not safe from its prowess. This
merganser used to breed rather commonly in New England, and it still nests in
the northern parts, though in diminished numbers. Apparently it never breeds
in hollow trees, but conceals its nest on the ground among rocks or bushes.
Like its larger relative, this duck does not "flock," and the little parties of five
or eight probably represent parents and young, which from motives of attach-
ment or safety, keep together. Eaton ascribes to this merganser a habit which
would argue unusual intelligence and co-operative ability. He says, "These
mergansers are often observed to hunt in company, a large flock sometimes
advancing with wide, extended front, driving the fish before them and diving
simultaneously, so that whichever way their prey may dart there is a serrated
beak and capacious gullet ready to receive them."

JN4earn S CJuail {Cyrtonyx montezumae mearnsi.)

Range : From central Arizona and central New Mexico east to central Texas,
and south to the mountains of northern Coahuila, Chihuahua, and eastern Sonora.

Mearn's quail is a Mexican species which crossed our borders long before
there were political boundaries, and established itself in the low mountain ranges
of our western border States, where in time it changed somewhat from the parent
stock. Although I have spent considerable time in the country it inhabits, chiefly
in eastern Arizona, I never found it numerous, and though I searched persistently
only occasionally discovered a small covey. If I am to judge by my rather
limited experience, Mearn's quail is the tamest of its kind, and well deserves
the epithet of "fool quail" locally bestowed on it. So closely does the bird lie
after being once started that I found it almost impossible to flush one a second
time unless I marked it down to the foot. I have observed one sitting motionless
on a log by the side of the trail, within riding-whip distance of a passing mule
train, apparently so petrified with astonishment as to be incapable of motion.

860

The Kn^lish Sparrow

By T. (jilbcTt Pearson

Many kinds of foreign birds have been introduced into the United States
with the hope of having them become acchniated to their new surroundings. In
many cases this action was taken by persons who doubtless were actuated by the
desire to have around them certain forms of bird-life that they had been accus-
tomed to see and enjoy about their European homes before migrating to these
shores.

Linnets, I'.ullinches, Skylarks, and many other birrls interesting on account
either of their singing, or of the striking character of their plumage, have been
liberated in the Tnited States and Canada. Game-birds, especially liungarian
Partridges, the little pAiropean Quail, and various species of Pheasants go to swell
the list of foreign birds that have been brought here to mingle with our native
bird-population. As a rule these imported species did not thrive in their new
surroundings, and after a short time were seen no more.

The most striking exception to this rule has been the House Sparrow of
Europe, which in this country has acquired the incorrect title of "English" Spar-
row. The first importation of these birds appears to have been made in the year
1850, by the directors of the Brooklyn Institute. Eight pairs were that year
liberated in Brooklyn, New York. In a bulletin on the English Sparrow, issued
by the Department of Agriculture in 1889, a statement by the Hon. Nicholas Pike
is quoted, in which he gives an account of this early attempt to naturalize English
Sparrows in this country-. He writes :

"It was not till 1850 that the first eight pairs were brought from England
to the Brooklyn Institute, of which I was then a director. We built a large cage
for them, and cared for them during the winter months. Early in the spring of
1851 they were liberated, but they did not thrive.

"In 1852 a committee of members of the Institute was chosen for the re-intro-
duction of these birds, of which I was chairman. Over $200 was subscribed for
expenses. I went to England in 1852, on my way to the consul-generalship of
Portugal. On my arrival in Liverpool I gave the order for a large lot of Sparrows
and song-birds to be purchased at once. They were shipped on board the steam-
ship 'Europa,' if I am not mistaken, in charge of an officer of the ship. Fifty
Sparrows were let loose at the Narrows, according to instructions, and the rest on
arrival were placed in the tower of Greenwood Cemetery chapel. They did not
do well, so were removed to the house of Mr. John Hooper, one of the committee,
who olTered to take care of them during the winter.

"In the spring of 1853 they were all let loose in the grounds of Greenwood
Cemetery, and a man hired to watch them. They did well and multiplied, and 1
have original notes taken from time to time of their increase and colonization over
our great country."

This appears to have been only the first of many importations that followed.

861

For example, Colonel William Rhodes, of Quebec, Canada, introduced Sparrows
at Portland, Maine, in 1854. Other men brought some to Peace Dale, Rhode
Island, in 1858. In 1860 twelve birds were liberated in Madison Square, New
York City; and four years later they were introduced into Central Park. In 1866
200 were -set free in Union Park, New York City. Forty pairs were brought to
New riaven, Connecticut, in 1867. Twenty Sparrows were turned loose in Boston
Common in 1868. In 1869 the City Government of Philadelphia bought over one
thousand Sparrows. In the same year twenty pairs were brought to Cleveland,
Ohio, and sixty-six pairs were taken from New York to Cincinnati. Shortly after
this they were introduced in San Francisco.

It will be seen, therefore, from the above records, which are not at all com-
plete, that the present population of English Sparrows did not develop in this
country from a single importation, as has sometimes been stated.

Their appearance seems to have been hailed with delight by the people of
the country generally, for many records tend to show that after they once became
fairly well established in the East, there sprang up a regular Sparrow craze, for
the birds were captured and taken to scores, if not hundreds, of places in different
parts of the country.

Not only were they distributed artificially, but the birds also spread rapidly
by their own initiative. Their progress was made chiefly along the highways,
where the droppings of horses furnished an abundant supply of half -digested
grain, and along the railroads where the grain-cars, particularly in autumn, were
continually scattering food along the right-of-way.

At the present time there are comparatively few communities in the United
States or in southern Canada where the English Sparrow is not well known, and
probably it is the most numerous species of bird in North America. It is chiefly
a bird of the cities and towns, and is usually not found in abundance in the thinly
populated parts of the country. In the autumn, however, when the Sparrows are
most numerous, owing to the recently reared broods, and in cities where the Spar-
row population is already at its maximum, many of these birds are naturally forced
out of the cities and towns in quest of food.

In no way does the English Sparrow show its fondness for living near human
habitations more than in its nesting-habits. Unlike other Sparrows, it rarely, if
ever, constructs its nest in woods, thickets, or fields at any considerable distance
from a house. During the breeding-season the birds swarm in the towns and cities
and there, in crevices about buildings, in water-spouts, or in boxes put up for the
convenience of other birds, it makes its home. The hollow of trees are frequently
used for this purpose. When such nesting-sites are no longer available, owing to
overcrowding, they will build bulky, covered, and ill-looking nests among the
branches of shade trees. The nesting material used consists of straw, grass, twigs,
rags, fragments of paper, or feathers ; in fact, almost any substance that may easily
be carried seems to be regarded by these birds as suitalile material for nest-making.

The eggs are spotted, and usually range in number from four to six. Two or

862

more broods arc often rt-arecl in a season. The Si)arro\v is extremely prolific, and
one evidence of its wonderful ability to avoid danj^'crs and thrive is shown in the
fact that in large cities, where destructive natural enemies are reduced to a
minimum, albinism has become more and more noticeable. I have observed here
in New York City in recent years that the number of Sparrows showing white
feathers in the wings or on the body has a|)[)arcntly increased. If these unusually
marked birds lived in the country they would, of course, be shining marks for
predatory enemies.

While primarily a seed-cater by nature, the I'nglish Sparrow is nevertheless
quite omnivorous in its food-habits, and it annually destroys many insects. I recall
some years ago talking with two farmers in Onslow County, North Carolina, who
were lamenting the fact that the law did not protect the English Sparrow, for
they stated that these birds were among the most valuable species on their farms
because of their great fondness for the caterpillars that infested their tol^acco
plants.

An observer in the L'nited States Department of Agriculture recently found
that in I'tah these Sparrows were feeding their young largely on the cut-worms
and other insects that were then a scourge of the alfalfa fields of northern Utah.
Other observers in various parts of the country have pointed to instances where
the English Sparrow was of decided economic value. These cases, however,
appear to be comparatively isolated ones, and are regarded by our agricultural
experts in Washington as being greatly overbalanced by the injury these birds do
to the general interests of mankind.

Most persons who have tried to cultivate gardens or small fruits in the neigh-
borhood of towns or cities are ready to testify to the annoyance they have expe-
rienced by English Sparrows eating tender plants, such as new peas and young
lettuce, as well as by the destruction of such fruits as cherries, pears, grapes, and
peaches. They also frequently destroy buds and flowers.

The United States Department of Agriculture scientifically investigated the
contents of the stomachs of a large number of English Sparrows, and reported
that aside from the destruction of weed-seeds, very little is to be said in the
English Sparrow's favor. In reference to the insects destroyed this statement is
made: "Out of five hundred and fifty-two stomachs inspected by the Biological
Survey, forty-seven contained noxious insects, fifty held beneficial insects, and
thirty-one contained insects of little or no importance."

There is a widespread feeling that the country' would be better ofif if the
English Sparrow had never been brought here. This sentiment against this
bird, whether justified or not, has arisen because of the annoyance it gives to
gardeners and fruit-growers; its tendency to destroy the nests of small native
birds and thus drive them out of our towns; the loss caused by fires due to the
nests placed about buildings catching sparks ; its uncleanly habits spoiling sculp-
tures on the fagades of buildings ; its noisy chatter about the house and yard where
once the songs of other birds were heard, to say nothing of the petulant calling

863

and fighting in the early morning heard about the bedroom windows where
late risers are taking their "beauty sleeps."

Resentment against the bird is reflected in the laws of our country, for in
no state in the Union is the English Sparrow protected by statute. Every little
while there are discussions in the public press about starting "Sparrow-wars" with
a view to exterminating these birds. Now and then we hear of some community's
eflforts looking to this end. Such attempts, however, have virtually been futile, as,
the English Sparrow can take care of itself so successfully that only by continuous
warfare against them, year after year, can their numbers be kept down in any
particular community.

Sometimes the experiment is made of offering a bounty on the heads of Spar-
rows. One objection to this procedure is that inexperienced persons, who are not
able to distinguish between the English Sparrow and one or another of our native
Sparrows, immediately become active in such a campaign, and our native birds
suffer as a result. Within the past month an agent of this Association visited a
western town where a bounty was being paid on dead English Sparrows. This
agent examined the dead birds brought in during three days, and found that only
one out of every eleven birds brought in, on all of which the bounty appears to
have been paid, were English Sparrows ; the others were all useful native birds.

"What shall we do with the English Sparrow?" is a question which this
AssQcia-tion is probably asked once a day on an average throughout the year. I
confeis my inability to answer this question. The Department of Agriculture at
Washington has attempted to answer it by issuing bulletins advising people to
poison 'and trap the birds. Whether this course is wise, it may at least be said
that all such attempts in a public way instantly produce strong opposition by many
hundreds of men and women who, perhaps in lieu of more interesting bird-neigh-
bors, regard with pleasure the presence of the English Sparrows, and often feed
them upon their window-sills, or provide boxes for their accommodation.

864

The Black-Billed Cuckoo

By Mdiccnt Eno Humason

iliis aftcriKKMi 1 was leisurely lyiii^ on the couch in my den, listening to the
gentle |)urr of a cooling shower, when I heard a guttural voice outside my window,
and hastilv arising, I perceived in the ajjple houghs, scarcely three feet helow me,
the long, graceful swaying tail of a hird, which seemed to hang on hinges from
the leafy bough.

As my eyes steadily follcjwed the line of his tail, and I c<jnjecture(l where the
head might be, my gaze lighted upon a nest of tent-cateri)illars, and the slight
wriggling of a grub betrayed the location of a brown head, and a curved black bill.
Need I say that the bill was intensely busy?

A sudden twist, and the black-billed cuckoo was entirely exposed — iiis beau-
tiful sleep shoulders ; his rounded wings ; his soft and pale-toned breast.

He finished his meal with much smacking of bill, then glided silently to an
open place in a dying apple tree near by, where he could dry his feathers in the
sunlight — for the little shower had stolen away as swiftly as it came.

To procure a better view of the bird, I entered an upper south balcony, where,
selecting a front seat, I watched his performance, by the aid of my opera glasses,
with ])rofound enjoyment.

He was perfectly silhouetted against the pale blue sky — his black bill sharp
and severe ; the red line around his eye glistening with bloody fire ; his pearly breast
fluffy and full as though he balanced a cotton bale under his chin ; his coat velvety
and serene.

Once he wrapped his two curved wings about his breast as an old lady draws
her shawl around her. and shivers a bit, murmuring to herself: " 'Tis cold, 'tis
cold" ; and once again he unfolded those exquisite wings of his as a young girl lifts
her gown and curtseys low.

He preened himself, and shook himself, and intermittently sat quiet as a marble
dove in an old cemetery, and then, when he was quite dry and smooth again, he
stealthily stole to the next apple tree, where he alighted upon a bough, but his siesta
was brief, for lo ! he was near a robin's nest, and the father-bird who was guard-
ing on a neighboring fence, furiously flew to attack him, with loud and shrieking
cries.

But the cuckoo flitted away like a ghost, and when the robin ceased his angry
chatter, all was silent, and the curtain dropped upon one scene, and I wondered
what the next would be.

865

The Varied Thrush {ixoreus naevius)

By Lynds Jones

The Varied Thrush is one of the most beautiful members of the family of
thrushes. Its range is somewhat limited as it frequents only the coastal regions
of the northwestern part of North America. In winter, however, it may be found
in California and is occasionally seen as far south as Lower California. As a
straggler, it is sometimes noticed in the New England states.

Mr. Mitchell says that the Varied Thrush reached the Columbia river in its
southward flight some time in October. He also states that "at this time they flit
through the forests in small flocks, usually frequenting the low trees, on which
they perch in perfect silence and are at times very timorous and difficult to ap-
proach, having all the sly sagacity of the robin." In fact this bird, which is often
called the Western Robin, is not only much more shy and retiring than our
well known eastern friend, but their song is also very different, "consisting only
of five or six notes in a minor key and a scale regularly descending." Mr. Town-
send speaks of the song as being louder, sharper and quicker than that of the
robin and adds that its song just before its northward flight, in the spring, is
pleasant. Its song is seldom heard except from the tree tops, and in summer,
as a rule, only from the deeper forests.

Dr. Suckley describes the Varied Thrush as he studied it in Oregon and
Washington. He says: "In winter it is a shy bird, not generally becoming
noticeable in the open districts until after a fall of snow, when many individuals
may be seen along the sand beaches near salt water. They are at such times tame
and abundant. I suppose that they are driven out of the woods during the heavy
snows by hunger. It may then frequently be found in company with the robin,
with which it has many similar habits. At this time of the year it is a very silent
bird, quite tame and will allow near approach. It appears to be fond of flying
by short stages in a desultory manner, sometimes alighting on the ground, at
other times on fences, bushes or trees."

Mr. Cooper, speaking of the bird as he found it near San Francisco, says that
they begin to appear in October, when "they are usually timid, but toward spring
come more familiarly around houses and utter their shrill, low notes, which
seem much more distant than the bird itself really is. If pursued they hide, and
sit unmovable among the foliage."

The bird is also known by several other names, such as the Spotted, Golden,
Painted or Columbia Robin or Thrush, and sometimes it is called the Thrush-like
Mockingbird. A marked characteristic of the male is the black crescent on the
breast.

Mr. Davie describes the nest as found by Dr. Minor in Alaska: "Its base and
periphery are composed of an elaborate basket-work of slender twigs. Within
these is an inner nest consisting of an interweaving of fine dry grasses ana long
gray lichen." The eggs are said to be a light greenish-blue, slightly sprinkled
with spots of a dark umber-brown.

866

490

VARIED THRUSH

'Hesperocichla naevia.)

About li Life-size

COPVniMMT 1f02, tT A. w MUWFOnC CMICAGG

The White-Breasted Nuthatch

By Harry Edward MilKr

Call ami note like scjiiic one lau^^liing : '.

Like some jester with his chaffing ]

Echoes with court jester's style ;

I'Vom orchard tree or woodland aisle;

Or with hilarious vein doth greet

The stroller through the village street.

To hring again as hring they must

The court jester whose bones are dust ;

The castle and all the castle throng *

That to the clouded past l)elong. i

The door is opened and lifted the latch

By this old jester, the gray nuthatch.

Who does on tree-trunk bob and tilt, ;

Asking the dreamer if he wilt

To walk through Fancy's guarded door

To those lost ages gone before ;

To live again in stout castle keep

With people who long ago went to sleep ;

To hear again in the master's court j

The song of jester and his quick retort ;

The jester whose sole place on earth

Was to drive out old care with mirth :

So once his mirthful journey ran —

Now- there be none of his old clan {

Of merrymakers in thick wood or grove, \

.Vor in the field where we may rove : ''

Lest some such spirit did incarnate .

To make the nuthatch laughter's mate.

867

Our Wood Pewee

By Edward B. Clark

It is better to hear the wood pewee than to see him, unless you be a student
of character and can look beneath the ughness of externals to find the internal
charm.

Ill-shaped and with neither beauty of dress nor grace of manner to commend
him to the eye, the wood pewee goes apart as if feeling that his appearance
is an ofifense. He does not, however, resent human intrusion into his solitudes.
His manner plainly is: "I took myself out of your paths, but if you come to
me the pain of my presence be yours."

And there in the leafy hermitage the pewee, after one sidelong glance and a
moment's pause in his work, will again take up his trade, which is that of a
snapper-up of unconsidered insect trifles. The boundaries of his hunting grounds
are not ten yards removed from the nest where broods his mate. His hunting
methods are those of the deerslayer who watches at a runway until the game is
passing and then strikes it down.

It is a luckless winged insect that makes thoroughfare near the perch of the
wood pewee. The bird's eye detects the tiniest of the quarry and he launches out
from the limb, and snap! the thing is over and an unfortunate is done for.

Probably not even the close friend of this solitary bird would claim for him
the gift of song. The wood pewee has only two notes, and they give him his
name, for he syllables "pe-wee" all the day long and at times when his shad-
owed home has fallen under the deeper shadow of night.

In truth, the bird has no song, but no songster of the whole feathered range
can put into so small a compass a sweeter utterance. True enough, it is melan-
choly, but it is in close keeping with the dim surroundings and with the subdued
sound of the wind in the forest. The wood pewee is known to many persons
as a voice rather than as a bird. They have heard the plaintive call time after
time, but have never traced the sound to its source. No question oftener is put
to the student of birds than that which asks the identity of the owner of the
voice which almost invariably is described as possessing above all other qual-
ities those of sweetness and melancholy.

As another compensation for denying anything of grace of form or manner
to the bird, nature taught him to build a nest that has no rival for beauty and
delicacy save the house of the ruby-throated humming-bird.

The wood pewee's domicile is built of lichens woven into a fabric with fine
craft. In shape and size it is a small teacup, cut ofif midway of its height.
The nest rests upon the upper side of a horizontal limb, and a keen eye is needed
to detect it so closely does it resemble the lichen-covered base of a severed
branch. The method of its building the wood pewee holds as a secret that is
beyond the cunning of man to discover.

868

The Maryland Yellow-Throat

To Margey Christine Ennine

Airy, cheery, little fay!

He goes warbling all the day —

"Margey, Margey, Margey!"
Thank you for that mellow note.
1 lapjjy-hearted Yellow-throat ;
My heart sings the same sweet song.
O'er and o'er, the whole day long —

"Margey, Margey. Margey!"

In the dawn, by babbling rill,
There I hear him gayly trill —

"Margey, Margey, Margey!"
When the sunset's purple cloud
Folds the rose in dewy shroud,
Still I hear him pil)ing low.
In the twilight's tender glow —

"Margey, Margey, Margey !"

Then, in sleep, I hear him call,
By some Dreamland and waterfall,

"Margey, Margey, Margey !"
Sweetest word was ever sung
Ry mortal or immortal tongue ;
Sweet as Love's first sacrifice :
Sweet as love in Paradise —

"Margey, Margey, Margey !"

Ray Ron.

869

The Worm-Eating Warbler {HelmUheros vermlvorus)

[By W. Leon Dawson

Description. — Adults: Head striped above; a narrow black stripe from either
nostril, broadening behind; and a stripe of the same color through either eye;
alternating stripes, and sides of head dingy bufif ; remaining upper parts dull olive ;
below dingy buffy, brighter on breast ; bill dusky above, pale below ; feet pale.
Length 5.50 (139.7) ; wing 2.86 (72.6) ; tail 1.91 (48.5) ; bill .58 (14.7).

Recognition Marks. — Medium warbler size ; black and buff stripes on head ;
dingy coloration.

Nest, on the ground, often sheltered by bush clumps, roots, projecting stones
and the like ; of leaves, bark, and trash, lined with grass, moss, or hair. Eggs,
4-6, of variable shape, wliite, lightly or heavily spotted and blotched with lavender
and chestnut. Av. size, .68 x .54 ( 17.3 x 13.7) .

General Range. — Eastern United States, north to southern New York, and
southern New England, west to eastern Kansas and Texas ; south in winter to
Cuba and northern South America. Breeds throughout its United States range.

DAMP woods, shady hillsides, and heavy undergrowth are required to attract
this modest Warbler even in the southern part of our state, where alone it is
common. Here the bird glides about over fallen logs, scuttles under brush-heaps
or projecting stones, scratches vigorously among the fallen leaves, or clambers
about the bushes, pursuing always a relentless search for the spiders, grubs, and
worms, which form its almost exclusive diet. It is mainly a silent bird, and apart
from nesting considerations regards your intrusion into its dusky haunts with little
concern. Given, however, a sitting mate, or babies in the vicinity, and the bird's
expostulations are most emphatic. Chip — chip — chip, it says with an energy which
shakes the little frame; and presently every bird on the hillside joins in berating
you.

There is little danger, however, for the bird. The nest is lodged somewhere
upon the hillside, half buried by festoons of running vines and mosses, or else
tucked away under the shadow of a log amidst a riot of dead leaves. Mere search
is useless. The bird will guide you to her nest — perhaps. If not, why try again
next year.

If caught upon the nest the. bird sits close and braves the threatening hand, or
else flutters out and tumbles down the hill with every symptom of acute and most
inviting distress. Of course the distress is only mental, and the invitation is with-
drawn in the nick of time.

The nest consists of a copious swathing of bark-strips and dead leaves, open
at the top or side, according to the nature of the ground, and carefully lined with
fine grass, hair, or moss.

Upon one occasion only does the Worm-eating Warbler avail himself freely
of the more elevated perches which his forest home affords. In singing the bird
mounts a limb twenty or thirty feet high and pours forth a torrent of notes not

870

■iol

WORM-EATING WARBLER.

iHelmitherus vermivorus.)
About Life-size.

unlike those of the ChipjjinK Sparrcjw. So close is the resemblance that one \a
almost sure to be dcceivetl by them the first time ; but closer attention discloses
their more rapid utterance and somewhat finer quality. One individual heard near
Sugar Grove wound up his trill with an odd musical quirk quite out of character,
and which he had borrowed, 1 faiuy, from a Hooded Warbler nesting near.

Communion

By Meliccnt Eno Hiimason

< 'ne afternoon, as 1 was returning through a meadow, after tramping in
the mountains, I spied, sitting on the barbed wire fence directly before me, five
baby barn swallows.

Why must we insist upon calling these beautiful creatures of salmon and
blue, such a raw, uncouth appellation ?

They were all looking straight at me, but did not attempt to fly, though
surely old enough.

I was reflecting upon their hesitancy, when, through the mellow glow of
an hour before twilight, I beheld the mother dart down from the sky with food
for her babies.

She swooped to the first and fed him : then to the second and fed him ;
then to the third, but just here she noticed me, and with anxious little cries
and excited whistles of warning, she scurried those youngsters from the fence, to
the nursery of the sky as fast as they could plane the air.

I have always wondered if the other three babies were fed as much as the
rest that day, or if they were all mixed up, in the eyes of the mother, as soon as
they felt the fence.

A simple little incident, this, but it left a strange impression upon me.

In that beautiful, late afternoon glow, much like the reflection cast from
stained glass windows in a cathedral — though, somehow, I prefer to vision the in-
terior of a little Episcopal chapel — the parent swallow appeared to me like a rector
in vesture of the sacred blue ; the little swallows represented his flock ; while the
hour of feeding merged into the holy hour of communion.

I think I, too. would have knelt before that beautiful creature, if she had not
swept away, with her brood, to the sky.

871

The Veery

By T. Gilbert Pearson

The Thrushes are rated very high as song-birds, and each has a song so
distinct in itself that, once perfectly heard, it need never be forgotten nor
confused with the song of any other. One of America's most popular members
of this family is the Tawny or Wilson's Thrush, usually known as the Veery.
It was called Wilson's Thrush by Prince Lucien Bonaparte, who was a great
admirer of Alexander Wilson, and the editor of his "Ornithology." The name
"Veery" is an imitation of its ringing call. To the novice in bird-study the va-
rious small Thrushes are somewhat confusing. The Veery has often been mis-
taken for the Wood Thrush, despite the difference that the latter has distinct
rounded black spots on its breast, and the Veery has small and somewhat indis-
tinct arrow-shaped spots on its breast and sides.

There is no mistaking the Veery's song, however. It is one of the most
melodious notes of the northern woodlands, and during the spring migration is
frequently heard on still days in the forests and groves of the South. It begins
singing shortly after its arrival in May and usually stops early in July. There
have been many attempts to describe the Veery's song, and numerous writers have
tried to spell it out in words. To my mind all such attempts are woefully inade-
quate. Perhaps the best description of its song is that given by Ridgway, who
refers to it as "an inexpressible, delicate, metallic utterance of the syllables ta-weel-
ah, tzvil-ah, twil-ah, accompanied by a fine trill." The first part of the song is
louder than the ending — in fact the song seems to start off with a burst of energy
which diminishes before the end of the performance. To me the song has always
suggested a sort of etherial trill, as if the notes came through a spiral, silvery pipe,
and there is something suggesting infinite space and vast distance in their exquisite
quality. Although the song carries well, it frequently happens that when one is
near the performer, but does not see it, one may think the bird a considerable dis-
tance away.

The Olive-backed Thrush has a song which may be described as a poor
imitation of that of the Veery, but once listen to a Veery on a long summer even-
ing and you will never afterward mistake the Ohve-backed Thrush for the Veery.

This bird knows well how to hide her nest and unless, perchance, you should
see her carrying building-materials, or should discover one of the parents taking
food to the young, you are not likely to learn her secret. Probably the majority
of nests that are seen are found by flushing the bird from her eggs as the observer
makes his way through the woodland.

On June 18, 1914, I found myself in a good Veery country along the western
shore of Lake Champlain. The constant singing of these Thrushes, especially in
the early morning and late afternoon and evening, awakened a strong desire to
learn more of the private life of these particular birds. Just as you always feel
that you know a man better after having seen his home, so do you feel on much

872

more iiitiniatc terms with a wild Ijird after having looked upon the cradle it has
built for its yomijj. W'c were in the midst of the woods and X'eerics sang on every
side. So I started gaily forth to hunt a nest, but the day ended in failure, as also
did the next and tlie next. In desperation I wrote to a very wise gentleman of my
acquaintance and asked him Ikiw in the world I was to find a X'eery's nest.

"It is a simple matter," he wrote, 'if you will keep your eyes ojx^n. The nest
is always on the ground or very near it. Look at the foot of trees or stumps, espe-
cially in growths of young sprouts, on logs dr stumps, in thick places, or among
plants on a steep hillside. Search only in the woods and especially where it is
<lamp."

I read this and fi)Uii(l 1 knew just exactly as much as I did before, for I had
seen all this in bird-books over and over again. So I thanked him for his kind-
ness and went out into the woods once more. For two or three hours every day for
two weeks the search went on. and not the slightest sig^i of a nest could I fuid.
Yet the \'eeries had nests, or had had nests, for during this time I came upon no
less than fourteen young, as yet scarcely able to fly. All were perched in the
bushes a few feet from the ground, and usually one or both of the parents at once
discovered me.

This recalled Miss Florence Mcrriam's sa>ing in her "IJirds of \'illage and
Field," that the \'eery is a peculiarly companionable bird to those who live near its
haunts. "It will become so tame,'' she tells us, "as to nest close to a house if not
disturbed, and when sought in its natural woodland home will meet your friendly
advances with confidence, answering your whistle with its own sweet wavering
whee-u, till you feci that the woods hold gentle friends to whom you will gladly
return."

The next sunimer found me again in these woods, jirying into every thicket
and clump of sprouts where a \'eery might hide, and then at eight o'clock on the
morning of June 19 I came upon a bird sitting on her nest. With the greatest
caution I withdrew, only to go again the next day. and the day following, hoping
to find her away. On the fourth trip, when I peeped into the hiding-place, I found
her gone. Drawing the buj^^hcs aside. I advanced and looked into the nest. It was
empty. On the ground I found three eggs. They were deep blue, unspotted, and
resembled the eggs of a Catbird, but were smaller. Every one had a large section
of the shell cut away and there was no sign of its contents. Surely the red squirrel
I had frequently seen near by had wrought this mischief — at least, in my disap-
pointment, I laid the blame at his door.

873

The Roseate Spoonbill (Aiaja ajaja)

By F. M. Woodruff

Length : 32 inches.

In the words of Audubon, "the Roseate Spoonbill is to be met with, for the
most part, along the marshy or muddy borders of estuaries, the mouths of rivers,
on sea islands, or keys partially overgrown with bushes, and still more abundantly
along the shores of the salt-water bayous so common within a mile or two of the
shore. There it can reside and breed, with almost complete security, in the midst
of an abundance of food." I find that these words, quoted from the "Water Birds
of North America," very truthfully describe the home of this bird. Its range
extends from the southern Atlantic and Gulf States southward to the F"alkland
Islands and Patagonia. Its range at one time, many years ago, extended north-
ward in the Mississippi Valley to southern Illinois.

When I first saw these Spoonbills it almost seemed as if Nature had made
some mistake in the creation of this grotesque combination of an almost repulsive
looking head and the exquisite shading of crimson and pink of the plumage on its
graceful body. In studying the Spoonbill in life, as it wades in the shallow pools
in the bayous and salt marshes, one is surprised at the wonderful dexterity with
which it uses its light spoon-shaped bill. It is a persistent and rapid worker,
moving its bill from side to side on the surface of the muddy bottom for small
mollusks and sea weeds. It is amusing to see the Spoonbills at times walking one
behind the other, and often the one in front is pushed ahead causing it to go
through sundry antics, and occasionally the maneuvers end in a fight, '^he antics
of these thirds are so interesting that I am afraid that my engagement in watching
them has often caused me to neglect work in other lines of nature study.

The lonely bayous between Brazos, Texas, and Matagorda Bay are excellent
places to observe the habits of this and many other species of birds. If one is
so fortunate as to find a locality where the birds have not been molested, a light
blind may be erected within a few feet of the water's edge and all of the waders
may be decoyed to close range. The numerous bayous along the Gulf coast wideu
out inland forming large lakes which are left bare, or nearly so, by the outgoing
tide. One of the most beautiful sights I ever witnessed, while in my blind, was a
time when I had a large flock of white-faced glossy ibises, wood ibises, snowy
herons and Roseate Spoonbills all within fifty yards from me. The combination
was dazzling. The Spoonbills and the glossy ibises would sail in and away at an
easy angle, while the wood ibises would circle and sail until almost out of sight.

The Spoonbills are always gregarious at all seasons in coveys of a half dozen
or more. "At the approach of the breeding season these small flocks collect to-
gether, forming immense collections, after the manner of the ibis, and resort to
their former breeding-places, to which they almost invariably return. In flight
the Spoonbills resemble the herons with easy flappings of the wings. Their necks
are thrown forward to their full length and their legs are stretched out behind.

874

149

ROSEATE SPOONBILL.
J Life-size.

WPORO. CHICAGO

They sccni to depend on the lKr()n>, with which they associate, for warning of any
approadiing daii}^cr, for tlic herons arc very vigilant and watchful.

The three to five white eggs which are spotted with shades of olive-brown arc
laiil in a nest which is a mere platform of sticks hiiilt in hushes, chiefly the man-
grove, or in small trees.

Band-Tailed Plf^eon (Colnmba Jasdata Jasciata)

Range: I'reeds from southwestern I'.ritish Columbia, western Washington,
western Oregon, northern L'tah, and north-central Colorado south through south-
western United States and Mexico to Nicaragua, and east to western Texas;
winters from southwestern United States southward.

Though bearing no very close resemblance to the passenger pigeon, the band-
tail may be said to represent that bird on the Pacific coast. Like the pigeons
generally, the band-tails are sociable, and flocks of hundreds used to be common
in the oak groves of southern California.

They are extremely fond of acorns, and although of late years persecution has
made them wary they will risk much to obtain their favorite food. When they
find a well-laden oak tree they will swallow acorns till they are full to the very bill.
.\s their soft bills are totally inadequate to hull the acorn, they swallow shells and
all, and such are their powers of digestion that they can dispose of at least two full
meals every day. They are said to breed in Arizona nearly every month of the
year, and \'ernon Bailey found them nesting in the Guadalupe Mountains, Texas,
as late as August. Their note in the breeding season is a hoot singularly like an
owl's, but most of the year they are silent. On the west coast for years they have
been persistently hunted, and as they breed in the mountains, which are much
resorted to by summer campers, the limits of the close season are by no means
always observed. It is high time to take active measures for the preservation of
the band-tail : otherwise it will soon meet the same fate as the passenger pigeon.

875

The Olive-Sided Flycatcher {Nuttaiiomis boreaiis)

Description. — Adult: Upper parts brownish slate with a just perceptible tinge
of olivaceous on back ; top of head a deeper shade, and without olivaceous ; wings
and tail dusky-blackish, the former with some brownish gray edging only on
tertials; flank-tufts of fluffy, yellowish or white feathers, sometimes spreading
across rump and in marked contrast to it, but usually concealed by wings ; throat,
belly and crissum, and sometimes middle Hne of breast, white or yellowish white;
heavily shaded on sides and sometimes across breast with brownish gray or olive-
brown, — the feathers with darker shafts-streaks; bill black above, pale yellow
below; feet black. Immature: Similar to adult, but coloration a little brighter;
wing-coverts fulvous or bufify. Length 7.00-8.00 (177.8-203.2); wing 4.16
(105.7) ; tail 2.64 (67.1) ; bill from nostril .53 (13.5).

Recognition Marks. — Sparrow to Chewink size ; heavy shaded sides ; bill yel-
low below; tezv-teiv note; keeps high in trees during migrations.

Nesting. — Not known to breed in Ohio. Nest, a shallow cup of twigs, bark-
strips, etc., lined with grass and moss ; saddled upon horizontal limb of coniferous
trees, often at great heights. Eggs, 3-5, creamy-white or pale buff, spotted dis-
tinctly with chestnut and rufous, and obscurely with purplish and lavender, chiefly
in ring about larger end. Average size, .85 x .63 (21.6 x 16.).

'General Range. — North America, breeding from the northern and the higher
mountainous parts of the United States northward to British Columbia, and the
Saskatchewan River. Accidental on the Lower Yukon and in Greenland. In
winter south to Central America, Columbia and northern Peru.

A familiar resident in the mountains of the west and not uncommon in New
England, this large Flycatcher is known to us only as a rare migrant passing to
and from its home in the Laurentian highlands. It is not a sociable bird, but
migrates in solitary fashion, and roosts high in some scantily clad or dead tree,
wherever night may chance to overtake it. At such times it expresses its distrust
of the bird-man, craning his neck from below, by occasional alarm notes of singu-
lar resonance and penetrating quality, tezv-tew, tew-tezv, tezv, teiv, tetv. Besides
this he has a loud call, swee-chetv, which is one of the characteristic notes of the
dense evergreen forests in which the bird spends its summer. "Three Cheers," he
seems to say — as a gold-miner in the Cascade Mountains of Washington once put
it. And, truly, for one who has been delving all day in the bowels of the silent
earth, the greeting which this bird shouts down from the topmost twig of some
giant fir is most welcome and enspiriting.

876

484

iil.l\ K-SIDED FLVCATCHKK
AI>out Life-size.

COPYRIGHT 1901. BY 4. w. MUUFORD, CHICAGO

Barrow's Golden-Eye (^cianiiitia ishuuUca)

Range: Breeds from south central Alaska and northwestern Mackenzie to
southern ( )rcgf)n and soutlicrn Colorado, and fr(;ni northern Ungava to central
Quel)ec ; winters from southeastern Alaska, central Montana, the Great I^kes,
and (.iulf of St. Lawrence south to central ("alifornia, southern Colorado, Nebras-
ka, and Xcw England.

The resemhlance which Ijarrcjw's golden-eye bears to the common whistler
is extraorilinarily close. The males, as a glance at the illustration will show, are
easily enough distinguished when close by, but to tell the females and young apart
with absolute certainty is impossible. It comes to us as a migrant in the late fall
and .sojourns along our northern borders, where it is often shot and sent to market
with the more numerous common whistler.

Snow OoOSe iChcn hyperboreus hyperboreiis)

Range: lireeds from the mouth of the Mackenzie east probably to Coronation
Gulf and Melville Island; winters from southern British Columbia, southern Colo-
rado, and southern Illinois south to northern Lower California, central Mexico,
Texas and Louisiana.

For all practical purposes, the snow goose or white brant may be considered a
western bird. It is, however, so much like the greater snow goose, except in size,
that the eastern records of the two species are much confused, and it is difficult to
determine to which bird any particular account applies. Xo doubt varying num-
bers of the lesser snow goose used to visit the eastern states where, however, the
larger goose was and is more numerous. The smaller snow goose breeds in north-
ern latitudes, and in fall migrates in great numbers to our southwestern states.
In the early days of California it was no uncommon sight in winter to see stubble
fields and pastures so covered with white brant as to seem like great snow-fields.
.\nd very beautiful these snowy tracts appeared under the bright mid-winter sun
of California. The ranchmen, however, looked with no friendly eyes on these
multitudes of geese, since the tender leaves of wheat are greatly relished by them.
When they nip ofif the blades of the growing grain, little damage is done, and many
claim, indeed, that the crop stools the better for it. No doubt, however, great
damage sometimes resulted from too frequent cropping, and it was no uncommon
practice to hire men to ride from grain field to grain field and keep up a constant
fusillade to kill or scare away the geese. Though the multitudes of earlier days no
longer visit California, the bird is still numerous there.

877

The California Thrasher {Toxostoma Rediviva)

By F. E. L. Beal

Thrashers are eminently birds of the underbrush. While they occasionally
alight on trees at some height from the ground, they are more frequently seen
under bushes or skulking out of sight in some almost impenetrable thicket of briars.
When, however, the thrasher wakes in the morning and feels his soul overflowing
with song, he perches on the topmost twig of a tree and lets the world know that
he is there and believes that life is worth living.

The food of the thrasher is obtained on or near the ground. The long curved
bill of the California species is probably used much as many birds use their claws
to dig among dead leaves and other rubbish for insects. The bird is not fastidious
in its diet, and examination of the stomachs reveals a good many bits of dead
leaves, rotten wood, plant stems, which are carelessly taken along with more nutri-
tious morsels.

An examination of 82 stomachs of this species shows that vegetable food
exceeds the animal in the proportion of 59 to 41. In the eastern species {T. rufwn)
the ratio is 36 to 64. This result is rather surprising, for, as a general rule, Cali-
fornia birds eat a larger proportion of animal food than do the most nearly
related eastern species.

Animal food. — As the thrasher is eminently a ground forager it would
naturally be expected to find and eat many ground-living beetles. Of these the
Carabidse are the most important, owing to their predaceous habits ; so a separate
account of this family was kept. The result shows that they enter the food of
the thrasher to the extent only of 3.8 per cent, while all other beetles amount to
nearly 6 per cent. Of these, the darkling beetles (Tenebrionidae) are the most
mimerous, and the May beetle (Scarabaeidae) next. But very few weevils or other
species that live on trees or foliage were found. Of all the insects, Hymenopetera
are the most abiindant, as they are also the most constant element of the thrasher's
food. About half of these are ants, the rest wasps and bees. Ants naturally are
the insects most often found by this bird, as many species live on the ground and
among rubbish and rotten wood. The occurrence in the food of wasps and bees,
on the contrary, is somewhat of a surprise, as they are mostly sun-loving insects
more often found on flowers or the leaves of trees than under bushes or thickets
where the thrasher delights to forage. Together they make up something more
than 12 per cent of the food of the year. Two specimens of worker honey-bees
(Apis mellifera) were found in one stomacli. None of the other Hymenopetera
was of specially useful species.

Caterpillars, cocoons, and moths amount to a little more than 8 per cent of the
food, and the greater number were eaten during the winter months. It is probable
that they were hibernating and were raked out from under dead leaves or other
rubbish. A few bugs, flies, grasshoppers, and spiders make up the rest of the
animal food — about 6 per cent. Spiders and myriapods amount to a little more
than 6 per cent.

878

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• P- JO
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N'egetable food. — The vegetable food may be divided into three parts: Iruit,
poison-oak seed*^, and miscellaneous vej^etablc matter. Fruit represents nearly
18 per cent, but it jirobably is not of much value. Several stomachs contained
pulp that could not be identified with certainty, an<l mij^ht have been that of some
cultivated variety. Seeds of Kubus fruits (blackberries or raspberries^ were
found in 12 stomachs out of the K2. These, however, are as likely to have been
wild as cultivated. Elderberry seeds were discovered in 10 stomachs, Cascara,
or coffee berries { Rhattiuus calif ornicus), in 5, and man/.anita berries in 1. The
seed of poison oak and a few of the nonj)oisonous species of Rhus were eaten to
the extent of 14 per cent of the food. They were not found in many stomachs,
but appear to be eaten in considerable quantities when eaten at all. The thrasher
must be added to the list of birds that assist in the dissemination of the seeds of
this noxous plant.

The miscellaneous part of the vegetable food amounts to over 26 per cent, and
is made up of mast, weed seed, galls, and rubbish. The mast was not further
identifiable. Most of the seeds were so broken and ground up that only a few
species were identified. Two stomachs contained remains of grain — wheat in one
and corn in the other. Leaf galls were found in several stomachs, and rubbish
in (juitc a number, though here again it is difficult to draw the line between food
proper and stuff that is accidentally picked up with it.

The song of the western thrasher is exquisitely sweet, and by some it is con-
sidered far superior to that of any of the numerous songsters that frequent the
woods and brush of the Pacific Coast.

Because of its short wings, the movements of this thrasher are rather heavy.
Its flights arc short, and usually from bush to bush, while constantly opening and
shutting its tail. Its favorite haunts seem to be the regions of scrubby oak and
greasewood brush of the deep mountain gorges. Here it builds its home, which
"is a coarse, widely constructed platform of sticks, coarse grass, and mosses, with
but a very slight depression. Occasionally, however, nests of this bird are more
carefully and elaborately made. It is always well hid in the low scrub bushes."

Both the sexes assist in the care of the eggs, though the male, as befits the
father of a family, usually stands guard over the nest, giving a quiet note of
warning on the approach of danger.

879

The Broad-Winged Hawk {Buteo piatyptems)

Synonym, — Broad- winged Buzzard.

Description. — Adult: Above sooty brown and fuscous, with much ill-con-
cealed or hidden white on head, hind neck, wing-coverts, and inner margin of
wings; some ochraceous margining of feathers, but less than in the two preced-
ing species; wing-quills plain-colored externally; primaries blackening on tips,
broadly white on inner webs; the three outer primaries deeply emarginate; tail
black with two decided white or light gray bars, besides narrow terminal gray
and basal white ; cheeks finely streaked with dusky and fulvous on whitish ground ;
throat white narrowly streaked with blackish; remaining under parts whitish or
pale fulvous, heavily and widely barred and streaked with yellowish brown or
dusky ochraceous ; sometimes nearly solid colored on breast ; lower belly and cris-
sum nearly immaculate; shanks sparingly fine-barred; axillars barred, but under
surface of wing nearly white, black-tipped; bill dark, or yellow-spotted below;
feet yellow; claws black. Immature: Like adult, but tail grayish brown crossed
by five or seven narrow dusky bands; under parts white or bufify, streaked and
spotted with dusky ; longitudinal pattern more distinct than in adult. Adult male
length about 14.00-16.00 (355.6-406.4) ; wings about 10.50 (266.7) ; tail about 6.7b
(171.5) ; culmen from cere .75 (19.1) ; tarsus 2.50 (62.5). Female from two to
three inches longer and proportioned accordingly.

Recognition Marks. — Typical Crow size; the white under surface of wing,
with black primary tips, affords quickest field recognition mark ; wings rounded ;
bird shorter and more compact in build than Accipiter coopcrii, with which it is
most likely to be confused.

Nest, of sticks, in trees ; often a deserted Crow's nest. Eggs, 2-4, bufify white,
spotted and blotched with reddish brown or ochraceous. Av. size, 2.00x1.58
(50.8x40.1).

General Range. — Eastern North America from New Brunswick and the
Saskatchewan region to Texas and Mexico, and thence southward to northern
South America and the West Indies. Breeds throughout its United States range.

Professor Jones is right in calling this a little-known Hawk in Ohio. Its
fondness for the deeper woods, together with its small size, leaves one little
opportunity to distinguish it clearly from the more abundant Cooper Hawk on
the one hand or the rare Sharp-shin on the other. On only one occasion have I
positively identified it in Ohio. On March 5th, 1898, a male bird with black
primary-tips contrasting sharply with the white of the remaining under-wing sur-
face, flew low overhead as I stood in the street in Oberlin. The bird held a
straight course north, and moved with the alternating flap and sail so characteristic
of the Buteos.

According to Dr. William L. Ralph, who has studied the species closely in
northern New Work : "When one is driven from its nest it at once utters a shrill
call which soon brings its mate to the spot, and together they will keep up their

880

4t^.S

15K().\U-U INGKI) HAWK.

I Kiiteo latissiMiu»)

'a Li(e-sJ7e.

CO'VRIOmT HOO. •»

UMFO»: ■-■c*oo

noise as long as there is anyone in the vicinity. Tlicy arc very tame in this locaHiy
(Utica), and freqnently wlien one is started from its nest it will not even leave
the tree, but alight on a limb near by. They are gentle in disposition and never
attempt to strike at a person, although they are very solicitous about their eggs
and young. For days after they have been robbed these birds will utter their com-
plaints when anyone approaches their homes."

"Their food consists to a great extent of small rodents, such as mice, gophers,
and squirrels ; shrews, small snakes, frogs, grasshoppers, beetles, larvse of insects,
and very rarely small birds. It is one of the most harmless of our Raptores and
of great benefit to the farmer" (Bendire).

Knot {Tringa canutus)

Range : Breeds from northern ICllcsmere Land south to Melville Peninsula
and Iceland ; also on Taimyr Peninsula, Siberia ; winters south to southern Pata-
gonia, and from the Mediterranean to South Africa, India, Australia, and New
Zealand.

The knot is cosmopolitan in range and occurs on every continent and on many
islands, large and small. It is strong of wing, and when migrating appears not to
regard distance, for it spans the territory that separates Grinnell Land and the
Straits of Magellan. It is a characteristic bird of the sea beach, and its food is
obtained by following the receding waves and seizing the minute crustaceans and
mollusks momentarily uncovered by the surf. Apparently, the robin snipe never
was so abundant on the Pacific coast as along the Atlantic, but the species promises
to last longer on the Pacific because less persecuted there. Enormous bags were
formerly made on the eastern coast, more particularly during the last of May and
early June. Thus the birds were pursued not only in fall but till near the opening
of the nesting season, a sufficient cause of their diminution. In further explana-
tion of the present small numbers of the knot, however, the fact counts for much
that until recently there have been practically no bag limits for our shorebirds.
and many gunners have shot as long as the birds and their ammunition lasted. All
shorebirds that associate in large flocks are unsuspicious, as though safety lay
in numbers. W'hen the sportsman is to be reckoned with the reverse is true.
Easily decoyed by wooden stools, or by the whistled imitation of their own note, or
that of the black-bellied plover, a flock of robin snipe will swing in to within gun-
shot, and repeat the dangerous experiment two or three times, or until the flock
is reduced to a few survivors.

881

o3gC OCn {Centrocercus urophasianus)

Range : Sagebrush plains from middle southern British Columbia, southern
Saskatchewan, and northwestern North Dakota to middle eastern California, north-
western New Mexico, and nort|iwestern Nebraska.

To make the acquaintance of the sage hen, the largest of the grouse family
in the United States, one must leave the region of forests and greenery and betake
himself to the barren plains country where grows in abundance the Artemisia or
sage brush. This aromatic plant furnishes the bird not only safe cover, but also
food. Indeed, sage leaves constitute such a large part of the regular fare of the
old birds that their flesh becomes strongly tainted, and he must be hungry indeed
who relishes it. The flesh of the young, however, is excellent. Owing to its large
size and its tameness it makes the easiest of marks, and unless special attention
is given to its preservation the bird will before long become rare. The yellow air
sacs on the neck of the male as inflated to enormous size during the mating sea-
son, and together with his curious antics no doubt suflice to render him irresistible
to the female.

oluC-r rOnted J3,y{Cya?iocitta stelleri and sub-species)

Length, 11^ to 13 inches. Easily distinguished from its fellows by its high
crest, brownish slaty fore-parts, dark blue wings and tail and blue or whitish
streaks on forehead.

Range : Resident in western North America from southern Alaska and Mon-
tana to Mexico.

The blue-fronted jays, of which the Steller jay may be taken as the type, are
common inhabitants of the piny woods of both the Rocky Mountains and the
Sierra Nevada States. They are among the handsomest of the family, the beauty
of their plumage, their long erectile crests, and their insistent voices compelling
the attention of any who invade their retreats. Not being residents of cultivated
districts, although they eat grain and small fruits, they do comparatively little dam-
age. On the other hand, they do not do much good, for, although they are insect
eaters, insects do not constitute a large part of their food, nor are the kinds they eat
very important economically. Probably their most serious fault is a fondness for
the eggs and young of small insectivorous birds of which they destroy many in the
course of the year. They share this failing with all other members of the family,
and bird lovers must deem it a pity that such bold, dashing, handsome birds as the
jays should be so destructive to small but useful birds. This habit is all the more to
be deplored, inasmuch as when unmolested jays readily respond to invitations to
be neighborly, and willingly take up their abode near houses, where they never
fail to excite admiration and interest.

882

Franklin's CiroUSe {Camickitcs Jraukmi)

Range: Southern Alaska, central British Columbia, and west-central Alberta
south to northern Oregon, central Idaho, and western Montana.

IVanklin's grouse was first described by Lewis and Clarke, who saw it in Idaho
while on their memorable trip to the Pacific coast. While thus known for more
than a century, surj^risingly little has been recorded concerning its mode of life.
I'Voni tiie close similarity it bears to the spruce partridge of the cast, it no doubt
possesses very similar habits. At least it has the same confiding disposition as that
^ird, as is attested by the fact that its habit of standing in amazed curiosity to watch
liie movements of an approaciiing foe intent on its destruction has earned it the
contemptuous epithet of "fool hen." Like our rufTed grouse, this bird is a drum-
mer, but instead of sounding the roll from rock or log, the male drums, according
to Dawson, by rapidly beating the air with his wings as he slowly sinks from some
elevated station or mounts upwards to it.

Spruce Grouse {Canaclutcs canadeyisis canace)

Range : Manitoba, southern Ontario, and New Brunswick south to northern
parts of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, New York, and New England.

The history of the spruce partridge must be written mostly in the past tense,
so far at least as the United States is concerned. It used to be common in Michi-
gan, the Adirondack region of New York, and in northern New England, but in
all three districts is now either rare or altogether wanting. The unsuspicious
nature of this grouse and its total obliviousness to danger from human beings, or
rather inhuman beings, probably had more to do with its sad end than anything
else. It is said that when a flock was surprised in trees, one after another could
be shot down till the last one was gone. As the grouse is practically non-migratory,
its preservation depends solely on the states in which it lives, and upon them
must rest the responsibility for its fate.

883

Black-Bellied Plover (Squatarola squatarola)

Range : Breeds on the Arctic coast from Point Barrow to Boothia and Mel-
ville Peninsula; also on the Arctic coast of Russia and Siberia; winters from
California, Louisiana, and North Carolina to Brazil and Peru.

The "beetle-head" bears a rather close superficial resemblance to the golden
plover, with which it sometimes associates, but the sportsman with quarry in hand
can instantly distinguish them by a glance at the toes. If there are three toes in
front and one behind, his bird is the beetle-head. The golden plover has only
three toes. Like the golden plover the beetle-head breeds in Arctic lands, but
unlike that bird it uses practically the same fly lines summer and fall. It inhabits
both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts and also a wide strip of the interior, including
the Mississippi Valley. The black-belly was formerly very abundant over most
of its range, but has sufifered a marked decrease in the past fifty years. It is pos-
sible that the abolition of spring shooting in a few of the Atlantic states has had
an effect in retarding its decrease. It is to be hoped that this is true and that, as
all shooting of this species is prohibited until 1918, the beetle-head will make sub-
stantial gains. If sportsmen and others interested can be convinced that protec-
tive measures are effective, and that under them some of our more important game
birds are materially increasing, it may be possible to secure their co-operation in a
really effective enforcement of protective regulations, not only in favor of the
present species, but of shorebirds generally.

The House-Wren

Alexander Wilson

This well-known and familiar bird arrives in Pennsylvania about the middle
of April. About the 8th or 10th of May it begins to build its nest, sometimes
in the wooden cornice under the eaves or in a hollow cherry-tree, but most com-
monly in small boxes fixed on the top of a pole in or near the garden. It is
partial to such situations because of the great numbers of caterpillars and other
larvae which may be found in the vicinity.

If all these nesting conveniences are wanting, the wren will even put up with
an old hat, nailed on the weather-boards, with a small hole for entrance. If
even this be denied him he will find some hole, corner or crevice about the house,
barn, or stable rather than abandon the dwellings of man.

The twigs with which the outward parts of the nest are constructed are
short and crooked that they may the better hook in with one another. The hole
or entrance is so much shut up to prevent the intrusion of snakes or cats that it
appears almost impossible that the body of the bird could get in. On the inside

884

llicrc i> a layer ut line dritil stalks of grass, and lastly of feathers. There are six
or seven, and sonietitnes nine eggs, of a red-purj)lish flesh color, innumerable
fine grains of that tint being thickly sprinkled over the whole surface. Two
broods arc generally raised each season, the first leaving the nest about the 1st of
June, the second in July.

The little bird has a strong antii)athy to cats; for having frequent occasion
to glean among the currant bushes and other shrubbery in the garden, those lurk-
ing enemies of the feathered race often prove fatal to him.

The immense number of insects which this sociable little bird removes from
the garden ami fruit trees ought to endear him to every cultivator, even if he had
nothing else to recommend him. But his notes, loud, sjjrightly, tremulous and
repeated every few seconds with great animation, arc extremely agreeable. In
the heat of summer, families in the country often tlinc on the piazza unrler green
canopies of vines and creepers, while overhead the trilling vivacity of the Wren,
mingled with the warbling mimicry of the Mockingbird and the distant softened
sounds of numerous other songsters, form a soul-soothing music, breathitig jx^ace,
innocence and repose. In strength of tone and execution the song of this species
is far superior to that of the Kuroi:>ean Wren.

The food of the House-wren consists of insects and caterpillars. While sup-
pl\ing the wants of its young, it destroys, on a moderate calculation, many hun-
dreds of these pests a day, thus greatly reducing their ravages. It is a bold
and insolent bird against those of tiie Titmouse or Woodpecker kind that venture
to build within its jurisdiction, attacking them without hesitation, though they be
twice as large, and generally forcing them to decamp. Even the Bluebird, who
claims an equal and, as it were, hereditary right to the box in the garden, when
attacked by this little impertinent, sometimes relinquishes the contest, the mild
placidity of his disposition not being a match for the fiery impetuosity of his
little antagonist. With those of his own species, who settle and build near him,
he has frequent squabbles.

In summer the I louse-wren is found throughout the eastern United States,
west to Michigan and Indiana, and north to southern Ontario and Maine. It
migrates southward in autumn, and is found throughout the year in southern
•States east of Louisiana.

885

The Northern Phalarope {Phaiaropus lobatus).

By W. Leon Dawson

Description. — Adult female in summer: Above and on sides of breast and
sides (narrowly) slaty with a drab cast, blackish on back and scapulars, and edged
here with light ochraceous ; wings darker slaty gray, the greater coverts broadly
tipped with white, forming a transverse bar ; sides of neck and lower throat rufous,
— pure on sides, more or less mixed with slaty gray on throat; chin and under
parts entirely white ; bill black ; feet yellow, lobate and semipalmate, most exten-
sively between middle and outer toes. Adult male: Similar, slightly smaller, and
of duller coloration, save that the black of back is more decided, and the ochraceous
edgings of upper parts deeper. Adults in winter: Without rufous; more exten-
sively white; crown and auriculars (connecting below eye with a similar spot in
front of eye) and median stripe of hind-neck dusky gray; the rest white; remain-
ing upper parts blackish (centrally) and dusky gray, extensively edged and striped
with cream-bufT and white ; wing-bar as before ; sides of breast grayish clouded.
Immature: Similar to adult in winter, but with more black above; breast usually
tinged with buffy or brownish. Length 7.50 (190.5) ; wing 4.53 (115.1) ; tail 2.02
(51.3) ; bill .85 (21.6) ; tarsus .77 (19.6) ; middle toe and claw .80 (20.3).

Recognition Marks. — Chewink size ; slaty gray, rufous, and white of head
and neck in spring plumage ; slender, black bill, less than one inch long, ivith
scalloped feet distinctive in any plumage.

■ Nesting. — ^Boes not breed in Ohio. Nest, a slight depression in the ground,
lined with moss and grass. Eggs, 3 or 4; olive-buff or pale olive-gray, heavily
speckled, spotted or blotched with dark brown. Av. size, 1.19x.83 (30.2x21.1).

General Range. — Northern portions of northern hemisphere, breeding in
Arctic latitudes ; south in winter to the tropics.

NOTHING can exceed the exquisite grace of this delicate bird as it moves
about, not at the water's edge, like other waders which it so closely resembles in
appearance, but up the surface of a pool or even on the bosom of the deep. As it
swims it nods with every stroke.

This Phalarope belongs to the shore birds and to a family that contains but
three known species. Two of these are sea birds. The other, Wilson's phalarope,
is an inhabitant of the interior of North America. Their feet are webbed, and
usually the two marine forms, or sea snipe, as they are sometimes called, migrate
in flocks far from land. Mr. Chapman says : "I have seen it in great numbers
about one hundred miles off Barnegat, New Jersey, in May. For several hours
the steamer passed through flocks, which were swimming on the ocean. They
arose in a body at our approach, and in close rank whirled away to the right or
left in search of new feeding grounds."

It is not an exaggeration to say that it is one of the most beautiful of our
aquatic birds. All its motions are graceful. It possesses a quiet dignity and
elegance while swimming in search of food, which it frequently obtains by thrust-

886

inj,' its bill inl(» the water, in this inauiicr it ^Jl>taill^ a Iav^v nimilur of marine
animals and llics that may be on the surface of the walir. \\ bni on the shore it
may l)e seen waihn^ and swimming in ponds near the oj^ast.

Dr. Cones wrote in an interesting^ maimer of this bird. 1 le said that the Xorth-
ern I 'halarope is "a curious comjjound of a wader and swimmer. Take one of our
common little sandpipers, fit it for sea by makiu}^' oars of its feet, and launch it
upon the great deep, you have a Xorthern Thalarope. Vou may see a flotilla
of these little animated cockle-boats riding lightly on the waves anywhere off
the coast of New ICngland."

Its habits at the mating season are most interesting, and no words can better
describe them than those of Mr. K. W. Xelson : "As the season comes on when
the tlamos of lo\e mount high, the dull-colored male moves about the pool, ap-
jxirently heedless of the surrounding fair ones. Such stoical indifference usually
api)ears too much for the feelings of some of the fair ones to bear. A female
coyly glides close to him and bows lier head in pretty submissiveness, but he
turns away, pecks at a bit of food and moves off; she follows and he quickens
his speed, but in vain ; he is her choice," and she fjroudly arches her neck and in
mazy circles passes and repasses close before the harassed bachelor. He turns
his breast first to one side, then to the other, as though to escape, but there is
h's gentle wooer ever pressing her suit before him. I-'requently he takes flight
to another part of the pool, all to no purpose. Jf with affected indift'erence
he tries to feed she swims along side by side, almost touching him, and at inter-
vals rises on wing above him and, poised a foot or two over his back, makes a
half-dozen quick, sharp wingstrokes, producing a series of sharp, whistling
noises in rapid succession. In the course of time it is said that water will wear
the hardest rock, and it is certain that time and importunity have their full effect
upon the male of this Phalarope, and soon all are comfortably married, while
mater familias no longer needs to use her seductive ways and charming blandish-
ments to draw his notice."

Then after the four dark and heavily marked eggs are laid the "cai)tive male
is introduced to new duties, and spends half his time on the eggs, while the fe-
male keeps about the pool close by."

887

The Golden-Crowned Kinglet {Reguius satrapa)

By W. Leon Dawson

Description. — Adult male: Crown-patch (partially concealed) bright orange
or flame-color (cadmium orange) ; a border of plain yellow feathers over-lying
the orange on the sides ; these in turn bordered by black in front and on sides ;
extreme forehead white, connecting with white superciliary stripe; a dark line
through eye ; above bright olive-green, becoming olive-gray on nape and side of
head and neck ; wing-quills and tail-feathers much edged with light greenish
3'ellow, the former in such fashion as to throw into relief a dusky spot on middle
of secondaries ; greater coverts tipped with whitish ; underparts sordid white, some-
times dusky-washed, or touched on sides with olivaceous. Adult female : Similar,
but with crown-patch plain yellow instead of orange. Immature : Without crown-
patch or bordering black, gradually acquiring these through gradation of color.
Length about 4.00 (101.6) ; wing 2.26 (57.4) ; tail 1.71 (43.4) ; bill from nostril
.21 (5.3).

Recognition Marks. — Pygmy size; orange, or yellow, and black of crown
distinctive.

Nesting. — Does not breed in Ohio. A^est, pensile, but receiving auxiliary
support from sides ; of moss, lined with fine inner-bark strips, black rootlets, and
feathers; in coniferous trees, usually at considerable heights. Eggs, 8-10, in two
layers, creamy white or sordid cream-color, dotted, spotted, and blotched with
pale wood-brown, and sometimes obscurely with lavender. Av. size, .54 x .40
(13.7 X 10.2).

General Range. — North America generally, except Pacific Coast, breeding
in the northern and elevated parts of the United States, and northward ; migrat-
ing southward in winter to Guatemala.

Our artist has done well to picture the royal midgets among the autumn
leaves. It is when the crimson and gold are being lavished on every hillside
and the year is sinking in sumptuous splendor that these little whisperers steal
in upon us almost unnoticed. But when the transient glory of the trees has
turned to sodden mold, the cheerful company of Kinglets is still to be found —
ungarnered leaves too full of sap for October's vintage, staunch potentates un-
shaken by the winter winds.

It is passing strange that bits of birdanity no bigger than Hop-o'-my-Thumb
should prefer to spend the winter with us, but so it is, and we are mightily
cheered by their presence. Zero weather has no terrors for them and the good
fellowship of winter seems in no wise marred by storms.

Kinglets go in troops which keep a little to themselves, but which are still
enrolled in the membership of some larger bird-troop of winter. Brown Creep-
ers, especially, affect their company with a persistence which must sometimes
l)e a little vexing to the more vivacious birds ; but there is no complaint or hauteur

888

on the part uf the latter, only royal tolerance. ICvergrcen trees arc most fre-
quented by Kinglets, and here they are almost invariably to be found during the
severest weather. With tirele«^s energy they search both bark and twigs for in-
sects' eggs and larva; scarce visible to the human eye. They flutter about at ran-
dom, hang head downward if need be, dart and start and twist and squirm, until
one frequently despairs of catching fair sight of the crown for the necessary
fraction of a second. Of course it's a Golden-crown ; but then, we want to
see it.

And all the time Cutikins is carrying on an amiable conversation with his
neighbor, interrupted and fragmentary to be sure, but he has all day to it — tss-
tss-tisp-chip-tscck. If you draw too near, chip can be made to express vigorous
disapproval. Only now and then does one hear snatches of the northern song.
It has something of the quality and phrasing of the better-known Ruby-crown's,
but lacks distinctness, and is perhaps not so loud. One May morning a large
company of Golden-crowned Kinglets held a concert in the trees of the Oberlin
College campus. The fresh-leaved maples fairly resounded to their spirited
music for a space of fifteen minutes ; then all was silent. The Kings recollected
themselves.

889

The Broad-Tailed Humming-Bird

(Selasphorus Platycercus)
By Gerard Alan Abbott

If we desire to study the Broad-tailed Humming-bird in the regions that it
frequents we must journey to the mountainous district of western North Amer-
ica. Here it may be found in large numbers, for it is the most common of all the
species that frequent the mountains. It seeks its food of insects and honey from
the flowers of a prolific flora extending from Wyoming and Idaho southward
through Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Texas, and over the table lands of
Mexico into Guatemala. It is pretty generally distributed throughout the various
mountain systems between the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains and the
Sierra Nevadas.

The broad-tails are very abundant in the balsam and pine belts of the San
Francisco Mountains of Arizona, where their principal food plants are the scarlet
trumpet flower and the large blue larkspur.

It seems strange and unnatural that so delicate a bird and one so highly
colored should frequent localities where periods of low temperatures are com-
mon. Yet the broad-tailed humming-bird prefers high elevations and has been
known to nest at an altitude of eleven thousand feet, and it seldom breeds at
places lower than five thousand feet.

The males leave for their winter home very early in the season. Usually this
migration takes place very soon after the young birds leave their nests. Mr.
Henshaw attributes this movement of the males to the fact that their favorite food
plant, the Scrophularia, begins to lose its blossoms at this time. He says : "It
seems evident that the moment its progeny is on the wing and its home ties severed,
warned of the approach of fall alike by the frosty nights and the decreasing supply
of food, off go the males to their inviting winter haunts, to be followed, not long
after, by the females and young. The latter, probably because they have less
strength, linger last."

890

4fi7

BROAD-TAILED HUMMINGBIRD.

(Selasphorus plalycercus.)

Life-size.

The Tufted Titmouse {Baeolophiis bicolor)
By \V. Leon Dawson

Description. — Adult: Above ashy K^'iy. "Ici'iicst on to]) of head; forehead
sooty black ; a conspicuous crest ; sides of head and below ashy white, stronply
washed with rusty on sides and flanks; bill plunibeous-black ; feet plumbeous. In
winter: The back and. usually, edgings of wing and tail more or less tinged with
olive; the lower parts tinged with brownish, especially on brest. Imwature:
Less distinctly black on forehead ; not so rusty on sides ; bill light, except along
culmen. Length. 5.75-6.50 (14r,.l-165.1) : wing 3.13 (79.5); tail 2.67 (67.8);
bill .43 (10.9).

Reco(jnition Marks. — Sjjarrow size; black forehead and a-^hy bhu- crest;
plain coloration in ash, whitish, and rusty.

Xcst. in a hole in stump, beech-stub, or tree, of leaves, bark, corn-pitch and
trash, lined with hair or feathers. Ef/gs, 5-H, white or creamy-white, evenly
spotted and speckled with reddish brown. Average size. .71 x .55 (18. x 14.).

General Range. — Eastern I'nitcd States to the Plains, north to northern
Xew Jersey and southern Iowa ; casual in southern Xew England. Resident
throughout its breeding range.

"I don't know for the life of me what the fuss is all about, but I know
there is the greatest commotion going on right under my nose. On a single
branch of a scraggly hillside tree — said branch being horizontal, twelve feet
long, and fifteen feet above the ground — there were gathered at practically one
and the same time the following birds: Tufted Tits, three to six, Blackcapped
Chickadees, three or four, Carolina Wrens, three. Downy Woodpeckers, three,
Wood Pewees. two or three, one Rey-eyed Vireo, one Yellow Warbler, one
Phoebe, an Indigo Bunting, a Redstart, one very small Crested Flycatcher and
several English Sparrows — some twenty or more birds of at least twelve species
— each vociferating, scolding, denouncing or at least anxiously inquiring, and
many, for the lack of better employment, fighting withal. It only lasted half a
minute after I arrived, but it was a stirring time while it was on. and I am all
a-tremble with excitement myself. What does it all mean, anyway? The Tufted
Titmice, I think, started the hubbub ; but w'hether one of their youngsters was
choking on a June bug. or had up and slapped its mother, I cannot tell." So
runs the writer's note-book under date of June 17, 1902, in recording one of the
most intense little episodes of bird life ever witnessed. It was just like those
Titmice, anyway — inquisitive, irascible, hysterical, always kicking up a shindy
among the birds. In some of their antics they are like spoiled children, but their
very sauciness is their salvation.

The Titmouse is the major domo of the winter bird troop. His militar>' crest
marks him out for such an ofifice. and his restless way of fussing up and down the
line gives him a show of authority over the Nuthatches, Creepers, Woodpeckers,
Chickadees, and Cardinals, which compose that motely company. He is. indeed,

891

a most important personage, in his own eyes ; but on one else takes him over
seriously, and his pretentions are slyly encouraged by the knowing ones, as
affording a prospective diversion amidst the tedium of winter.

The Tufted Tits come of. hardy stock; although somewhat less common in
the northern portion of the state, there is no other evidence that they mind the
severity of winter. The average Titmouse family, too, approaches near the pro-
portions that our grandfathers believed in. With six or eight youngsters in a
brood and two broods in a season, it is a wonder that they do not overrun the
land.

Nests consist of well-lined cavities like those of the Chickadee, but the ex-
cavations more frequently follow natural lines ; and for the sake of getting an
easy start through an inconspicuous knot-hole, the birds will range up to thirty or
forty feet in height. Less frequently deserted Woodpeckers' nests are used, and
fresh holes are dug in green or rotten wood.

The cheevy, cheevy call of the Titmouse is one of the most familiar sounds
of the woods and village groves. More loud and clear is the Peter, Peter, or
peto, peto note of springtime. As a distinct modification of the first named note
there is a rare musical choo-y, choo-y, which has in it much of the flute-like
character of the Wren's song. The latter bird is very apt to answer this cry with
his "Richelieu" note, as though he were challenged to utterance. If one is ac-
customed only to these clear whistled calls, it comes as a great surprise when the
Titmouse bursts out with a Chick-a-dee, Chich-a-dee-dce, almost precisely like
that of his black-capped cousin.

Undtr date of March 31st I find: "The neighboring woods are haunted, and
have been for a week or more past, by a love-lorn Titmouse who repeats Peto,
peto, peto, peto with rapid enunciation and wearisome iteration. The bird utters
this cry in groups, as above, on an average of about thirteen times a minute, and
keeps it up all day long. During these days he ranges high in the trees, but stops
only ten or fifteen seconds in a place, — about long enough to repeat his burden
four or five times. Then comes a hiatus of a few seconds, during which time he
is flitting to another perch. At a casual glance it looks as though Mary Ann had
retired to the depths of some unknown knot-hole to escape this silly chap, and we
heartily wish that we might follow suit."

[ 892

Rlue-Win^cd Teal iOnm/ucdula discors)

Range: Breeds from central liritish Columhia, Great Slave Lake, central
Ungava, and Newfoundland south to central Oregon, northern Nevada, northern
New Mexico, central Missouri, southern Indiana, northern Ohio, western New
York, and Maine; winters from southern British Columhia, Arizona, southern
Illinois, Maryland, and Delaware south to the West Indies and South America
as far as Brazil and Chile.

I'ormerly ahundant and nesting uwr much of eastern I'liited States, the hlue-
wing still inhabits most of its former range, hut is numerous only in the Middle
West. Though found west of the Rockies, it is there replaced for the most part
by the cinnamon teal. Its habits may be described in much the same terms as
those of its congener, the green-wing. Like that bird, it also is a lover of fresh-
water ponds and streams with grassy banks. The blue-wing migrates south early,
and teal shooting in early September in some localities is one of the sporting
events of the year. Extremely fond of wild rice, this duck is generally regarded
as a tidbit, and it is at its best when it has fattened on this nutritious seed. Though
extremely swift of wing, its speed avails it little in the long run, since it is tame
and unsuspicious, decoys well, and is easily approached and potted when feeding
in its grassy coverts. How much the abolition of spring shooting will accomplish
for this and the green-wing remains to be seen. Should it fail, then the most
stringent protective measures as to short open season and bag limit will have to
be adopted if these attractive little teal are to rcmc in with us.

893

The House-Wren {Troglodytes aedon Vieill)
By Lynds Jones

Description. — Adult: Above, grayish rufous-brown, duller and lighter on
fore parts ; brighter and more rufous on rump, which has concealed downy white
spots ; back indistinctly barred with dusky ; wings on exposed webs and tail all
over distinctly and finely dusky-barred; sides of head speckled grayish brown,
without definite pattern; below, light grayish brown, indistinctly speckled or
banded with darker brownish on fore parts ; heavily speckled and banded with
dusky and whitish on flanks and crissum; bill black above, lighter below, cul-
men slightly curved; feet brownish. Length 4.50-5.25 (114.3-133.3) ; wing 2.08
(52.8) ; tail 1.67 (42.4) ; bill .47 (11.9).

Recognition Marks. — Warbler size ; brown above, lighter below ; everywhere
more or less speckled and banded with dusky, brownish, or white.

Nest, of sticks and trash, lined with fine grasses or chicken-feathers, placed
in bird-boxes, holes in orchard trees, crannies of out-buildings, etc. Eggs, 4-8,
white, heavily speckled, and usually more or less tinged with pinkish brown or
vinaceous, with a wreath of a heavier shade about the larger end. Average size,
.64x.51 (16.3 X 13.).

General Range. — Eastern United States and southern Ontario, west to In-
diana and Louisiana. Resident from the middle districts southward.

Many years ago this cunning little bird gave up its woodland retreats and
adopted the white man. The unconscious lure which led to this result was doubt-
less the abundance of toothsome worms, which had already adopted man's apples
and currants and cabbages. Since that time the discerning have always put out
boxes and gourds or cans to encourage the residence of this sprightly and valu-
able friend. The mutual benefit association thus formed worked admirably,
until the advent of the English Sparrow, but since that evil day the Wren has
fought a losing battle. If one could beHeve in the survival of the "sassiest" the
odds would still be in his favor, but the Wren alas ! has not learned the value of
co-operation, and his tiny beak, however valiant, is no match for the concerted
action of the aliens. The American Wren must go.

For some reason, too, the near presence of its cousins, the Carolina and
Bewick Wrens, does not seem to be congenial to this bird, and it has retired
before the latter species, apparently without dispute, from the southern third
of the state; and one finds it commonly only where neither of the others is to
be found.

Arriving about the middle of April, the House Wren — or Jenny Wren, as
it is fondly called — proceeds immediately to renovate last year's quarters, and
to season the task with frequent bursts of song. In singing his joyous trill the
bird reminds one of a piece of fireworks called a cascade, for he fills the air with
a brilliant bouquet of song, and is himself, one would think, nearly consumed by

894

the violence of the ttVort. Hut the next niomeiil the singer is carrying out hl>^l
year's feather-bed hy great beakfuls, or Uigging into some cranny sticks
ridiculously large for him.

Uuring the nesting season lioth birds are jR-rfect little spitfires, assaulting
mischievous prowlers with a fearlessness which knows no caution, and scolding
in a voice which expresM-s utmost contemi)t. The rasping notes produced on such
an occasion remind oiu- of the energetic use of a uutnieg-grater by a fletermincd
housewife.

In providing a nest tiie binls usually seek to Idl up the chosen cavity, what-
ever it be — an old cofTee pot, a peck measure, a sleeve or jacket of an old coat,
or a mere knot-hole — with sticks and trash. Within this mass, or preferably
on the top of it, a heavily-walled cup of chicken feathers is i)laced, and these arc
held in shape by a few horse-hairs. I once found a set of Wren's eggs in the
deserted nest of a Barn Swallow. Even here the second tenants had relined the
nest, until there was barely room to insert the fingers between the edge of the ne^t
and the roof of the building.

No infrequently, whether because of the incessant persecutions of the Spar-
rows, or from a recurrence of ancestral tastes, nests are found far from any
human habitation, in a crevice of a worm fence or in a decayed stump at the
edge of the swamp.

Eggs are deix)sited at the rate of one each day, and incubation lasts four-
teen days. Two and often three broods are raised in a season, the eggs of
each succeeding set usually being less in number.

895

The Woodpecker

He's the sassiest critter that ever I see!
An' he sets there a-peekin' an' bobbin' at me,
While he's carvin a notch in the wind-shaky crotch
O' that moss-covered hickory tree.
Dinged if ever I see such a tormentin' bird !
When I woke up this mornin', the first thing I heard
Was his "rubby-dub-dub" on an ol' holler stub —
'Fore the other fowls twittered 'r stirred.

See im set there a-peckin' that worm-eaten limb,
An' a-winkin' at me as I'm talkin o' him ;
While his hard bullet head shinin' glossy an' red
Drives a bill like a thorn, black an' slim.
Seems in teasin' a feller he takes a delight ;
An' he'd rather be killed in a one-sided fight,
Than to give up the grub he has found in that stub —
'R to show the white feather, in flight.

He's the beatenest bird — an' he don't care a straw !
W'y, he takes what he wants, without license 'r law,
An' he chatters with fun at the crack of a gun —
While he's fillin' his famishin' craw.
I'll be hanged if I don't kind o' fancy 'im though —
He's so blamed independent an' keerless, you know ;
An' I'd feel sort o' bad — an' consider'ble sad.
If he'd mind by complainin' an' go.

James Ball Nay lor.

896

SlatC-Colorcd JunCO (Jkhco kycmalis)

Lciij^lh .ihoiit ()J4 inches.

rrevailinjj color prayish slate, l)rlly white; outer tail feathers tipperl with
white.

Rau^'e : ilreeds in nnich (jf Ala>l<a and Lanada and in the ni<nnUain.s ui .\c\v
N'»»rl<, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, wiiile a nearly related f(irni (the Carolina
Junco) breeds in the southern .MIeghenies ; winters throughout the eastern states
to the Gulf.

( )nly one junco inhabits the eastern I'nited Statc>. but >c\irai -jk^.^- ,.,.
in the west. .Ml of the members of the group resemble each other in a general
way and all have similar habits. Most of us know the junco only in the fall and
when, after having summered in the mountains of the more northern districts,
the birds gather in large Hocks and forsake high altitudes for more congenial
surroundings. The junco associates with other sparrows, usually far outnum-
bering them, but its slate-colored plumage and white tail feathers reveal its pres-
ence unmistakably. Its familiar "tsip" may be easily recognized among the
medley of notes, but its low sweet song is to be heard at its best only in its Alpine
home. Nevertheless, as the late migrants shape their course for the northern
woods, it is not uncommon to hear the males of a flock burst into song, as if they
really could not be content to remain silent any longer. When snow is on the
ground the juncos are often hard pushed for food and on such occasions a flock
will readily respond to an invitation to visit the dooryard and dine on t:d)lc
crumbs or small seeds of any kind.

The junco is one of our most persistent grass and weed seed eaters and in
winter and spring seeds constitute much the greater part of its fare. Taking the
year around, about, one-fourth of its food consists of insects, including leaf beetles,
weevils, caterpillars, grasshoppers and many others.

897

The Arctic Towhee {PipUo Maculatus ArcUcus)

By I. N. Michell

The Arctic, or Northern, Towhee is a bird of high altitudes and latitudes. Its
breeding range is somewhat restricted, including the plains of the Platte, upon
Missouri, Yellowstone and Saskatchewan rivers and the regions westward to the
eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. In the winter it passes southward, finally
reaching the state of Texas. Throughout its range it frequents streams and
shores that are bordered with bushy underbrush. In some localities, as in the
valley of the Great Slave Lake, this species is very abundant.

"The Arctic Towhee appears in the vicinity of Idaho Springs about the
middle of May and in the course of a week or two becomes rather common, though
never very abundant. It becomes rare above 8.500 feet, and above 9,000 feet dis-
appears altogether, being most numerous from 7,500 feet down to the plains. In
habits and appearance it is quite similar to the eastern towhee, but is much shyer
and is easily frightened, when it hides in the bushes until all appearance of dan-
ger has passed by. It utters the 'chewink' of the eastern towhee, or a note almost
exactly like it, though a little lower and more wiry."

The towhees obtain a large share of their food by scratching among the
fallen leaves that lie upon the ground under the underbrush that they frequent.
The Arctic towhee will respond to a Avhistled call, though it is not as inquisitive
as the eastern species.

Its nest is placed on the ground, in a slight depression scratched out by the
bird, and is usually under the protecting shadows of shrubs. The nest, the rim
of which is flush with the ground, is "strongly built of bark strips, blades of dry
grass, and usually lined with yellow straw."

Enormous Number of Robins

The immense concourses of passenger pigeons, remembered by manv now
living and so graphically described by Wilson, Audubon, and other early or-
nithologists, are common knowledge. But that the robins of America are today
far more numerous than the passenger pigeons ever were, and that many other
species outnumber them also — perhaps three to one — is not generally appreciated.
The gregariousness of the pigeons, causing them to unite in a few great flocks,
made the number much more manifest than do the scattered small bands and
individuals of other birds. Yet when we reflect that robins nest over an area
extending at its farthest limits from Mexico to the Arctic ocean and from the
Atlantic to the Pacific, and that in much of this vast territory they are fairly
crowded, it is easy to conjecture what an immeasurable army they would make
if gathered into one flock. — Henry Oldys in "Bird-Lore."

898

563

ARCTIC TOWHEE.

(Pipilo maculatus arcticus).

* 5 Life-size.

tafrfttMi IMft, IT «. <

Courtin' Tarn In Dc W'oodlan'

( A I' ii-iuli ( aiKuliaii I'.allail.;

\\\ I AW K. S.iri-tt

( )Ii. cet's courtiii' tain' in <\v wctodlan' I

De sap she's in dc trct's ;
Wit' love (Ic birds dev're seenj^in'

( )n de wil" ( "anadiaii l»reeze.
De r-redliead uoodpecks flr-rnnunin'

( )n de top-nios' hollow leenih.
\\ ile he Ictok to see so h-anxioiis

Met hees lady come to heeni.
An' de hermit t'rush he's fifin*

( )n de swamp lak he don't care
Xo more to l>c wan hermit.

W'cn di' sprccnj^ she's in de air!

Oh. eet's courtin' tam' in de woodlan' !

Hear de pa'tridge dr-rum all day !
W'ile hees ladies gadder 'roun' heem,

An' admire how he play !
De r-redweeng blackbird's sweengin',

Wile he pipe hees "Gug-le-gee !" —
Dat's hees fenny way of callin'.

"Please, lady, look on mc!"
An' de cr-row, wile he aint sweet seenger,

h'or tunes he aint got no han'.
Lak me he mak' for hees music,

De beegcs' noise he can.

Oh. cet's courtin' tarn' in de woodlan' I

How de lark flute ev'ryw'cre.
W'ile hees ma'm'selle hide in de willow,

An' play lak she don't care!
De vi'let look her sweetes'

For to catch dose bomble-bee ;
An' Jomp-op Johnny dressin'

Lak he's goin' on gran' ol' spree.
An' now de ev'nin's fallin, —

Jus' hear dose wailin' loon !
-An' de lonesome wolf he's howlin'

For hees lady in de moon !

899

Oh, eet's courtin' tam' in de woodlan' !-

Ba Gosh ! Dat's good idee !
I'm dress np — me — lak de bkie jay,

An' court ma gairl Marie!
An' dough ma voice seengs fonn\-,

Lak saws cut de knots in pine,
I'll tak' ma ol' accord'yon,

'Cos I mak' dose music fine.
Eef de sparrow, cr-row an' cow-bird,

So homely as can be.
Can win som' gairl in de spreengtam',

Ba Gar ! dere's chance for me !

Wood Duck i^ix Sponsa)

Range: Breeds from southern British Columbia, central Saskatchewan,
northern Ontario, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia south to central California,
southern Texas, Florida, and Cuba ; winters chiefly in the United States from
southern British Columbia, Kansas, Illinois, Indiana, Pennsylvania, and New
Jersey south to southern California and the Gulf of IMexico.

However divided the sportsmen of America may be on the many questions
affecting their rights and privileges, they should one and all unite in an attempt
to preserve the existence of the wood duck, perhaps the most beautiful of the
duck tribe. It is true that in some sections of the country the wood duck is still
far from uncommon, but no one conversant with the present state of affairs
can examine the records of its former range and abundance without being con-
vinced that the danger threatening the species is real and imminent ; nor need
recorded evidence alone be relied upon, for there are many sportsmen alive today
whose memories go back to the time when this beautiful bird abounded in most
of the wooded sections of eastern United States, where today few, if any, remain.
A regulation under the Federal migratory bird law provides a closed season for
the wood duck until 1918, and if this prohibition is faithfully observed, there is
every reason to believe that the species will materially increase, more particularly
as in states where it is wholly protected, or protected in spring, an increase in
numbers has already been noted. It will be to our everlasting shame if this, one
of the most perfect of Nature's creations, is allowed to meet the same fate as the
passenger pigeon. Practically all the wood ducks nest and winter within our
own boundaries and it is for us to sav what shall l)c their fate.

900

Kllldcer (Oxycc/iKS voci ferns)

Range: Breeds from central British Columbia, soutlicrn Mackenzie, central
Kcewatin. and central Quebec south to Gulf coast and central Mexico; winters
from California. Arizona, Texn", Indiana, New Jersey, and P>crmuda poiith to
Wnezuela and Peru.

The killdccr is unquoniiiKuiiy oik- (jf tht- most widely ilistributed and oii<* of
the best known of the phner tribe. The bird student who makes its acquaintance
need not ask its name, for the birtl never tires of re])eating it at all seasons. Its
vociferous iteration of "kill-deer, kill-deer" brings dcjwn on its olTending head
the wrath of the sportsman whose cherished plans for a successful stalk of a
flock of duck-^ arc upset by its excited cries, rightly intcrj)ret('d l)\- the flucks as
signals of danger not to be neglected.

Though the killdccr is a plover, he cares \ery little for the seacoast, nor
overmuch for the neighborhood of water, but finds all his wants supplied in
upland pastures and plowed lands. I lis bill of fare is a long and varied one, and
includes many pestiferous kinds of insects. As the bird's flesh is little esteemed
and its services are of decided value to man, no very good reason appears why
the species should not flourish. But though the bird is still numerous, it has been
exterminated in many localities. As it is now protected under the Federal law
we may look to see it again occupy territory from which it has been long absent.
There is the more reason to expect this since the killdeer responds quickly enough
to decent treatment, as is evidenced by the fact that a pair has nested for three
sucessive seasons on a golf course near Washington, D. C. Despite the fact that
the location of the nest was known to at least a hundred players and caddies,
and that the piece of "rough" in which the next was located was invaded scores
of times daily, the birds were successful in bringing out their young each year,
though plovers never had a more exciting time doing it.

901

The Great-Tailed Grackle {Megaqmscaius Major

Macrourus)
By W. Leon Dawson

The Great-tailed Grackle belongs to a family of birds that is "eminently
characteristic of the New World, all the species being peculiar to America." It
is the family of the blackbird and oriole, of the bobolink and the meadowlark. It
is called the Icteridae, from a Greek word ikteros, meaning a yellow bird. The
majority of the one hundred and fifty or more species that are grouped in this
family make their home in the tropics where their brilliant colors are emphasized
by the ever green foliage and the bright sunshine.

The family is interesting because the species, though closely related, vary so
widely in their habits. They "are found living in ground of every nature, from
dry plains and wet marshes to the densest forest growth," Here are classed some
of the birds which are among- the most beautiful of our songsters. Here, too, are
classed some species that never utter a musical sound, and whose voices are
harsh and rough. The sexes are usually dissimilar, the female being the smaller
and generally much duller in color.

The Great-tailed Grackle is a native of Eastern Texas, and the country
sowthward into Central America. The Crackles are sometimes called Crow
Blackbirds. There are five species, all found in the United States. The Bronzed
and the Purple Crackles are the most generally distributed and best known.

The Great-tailed Grackle, as well as the other species, usually builds rude and
bulky nests in trees, sometimes at quite a height from the ground. It will also
nest in shrubs and it is said that it will occasionally select holes in large trees.
The males are an iridescent black in color and the females are brown and much
smaller. Both sexes spend most of their time on the ground. Their feet are
strong and large, and, when U])on the ground, they walk or run and never hop.

902

Birds as IVescr\ers of \^e^etation

Jiy ].. W. i;n.wiH-ll

It 'i> fairly safe to assert that were it not for the birds this world would very
shortly he entirely bereft ()f its vej^etation for it is almost certain tiiat man alone
without the aid of the birds could not wajje a winning war against the immense
armies of vegetation destroying insects. ICven with the aid of the birds the
insects frequently gain the upper hand and cause tremendijus loss to the agri-
culturist as is evidenced by the reports of Dr. Marlatt of the United States
Department of Agriculture. In 1904 he made extensive and most careful investi-
gation and estimated that the loss to agriculturists, and consequently to the world,
for that year from insect depredations reached the grand total of .seven hundred
and ninety-five millions of dollars. This seems almost incredible but it was
thought to be a conservative estimate and the losses have increased rather than
decreased since then.

Many of my readers may think that by my statement I am exaggerating
tlie importance of the birds as to their value to mankind, but now let us see what
the birds actually accomplish as insect destroyers.

The young of the majority of our birds are fed upon insects and nothing
else for the first few weeks after they are hatched and many are insect eaters
all their lives. The young are voracious eaters and are fed by their parents
on an average of every five or six minutes during the day, and their day begins
at daylight and does not end until dark. At each visit of the old binls they
bring from one to a dozen insects and this does not take into consideration those
that they eat in the meantime. Thus it will I)e seen that a single family of birds
will consume several hundred insects in a day. In fact it has been estimated
by careful observation that a family of young birds will destroy from five to
twelve hundred insects daily. Besides the actual insects themselves many birds
destroy great masses of insect eggs often reaching into the thousands in a day.
When we think of the really great army of birds that are being reared, and inci-
dentally fed. at the same time throughout the country we can gain some idea
of the stupendous number of insects that are daily destroyed by them.

These facts, taken into conjunction with the facts concerning the destruction
done by the insects in' spite of the birds, will serve to show us what would
inevitably happen if we did not have the birds to hold the insects in check.

To offset the good that they do a few birds on the farm may eat a few
cherries or berries, but can we not well afford to pay this small price for the inesti-
mable services which they perform for us?

903

The Knot or Robin Snipe {THnga Camuus)

By C. Hart Merriam

The Knot or Robin Snipe is a bird of several names., as it is also called the
Red-breasted Ash-colored Sandpiper, the Gray-back and the Grap Snipe. It is
quite cosmopolitan, breeding in the far north of. both hemispheres, but in winter
migrating southward and wintering in the climate of the southern United States
and Central America. The Knot belongs to the Snipe family (Scolopacidae),
which includes one hundred or more species, about forty-five of which are inhabit-
ants of North America. Nearly all the species breed in the higher latitudes of the
northern hemisphere. These birds frequent the shores of large bodies of water
and are seldom observed far from their vicinity. Their bills are long and are
used in seeking food in the soft mud of the shore.

The Knot visits the great lakes during its migrations and is frequently ob-
served at that time. Its food, which consists of the smaller crustaceans and shells,
can be as readily obtained on the shores of these lakes as on those of the ocean,
which it also follows.

Dr. Ridgway tells us that "Adulty specimens vary individually in the relative
extent of the black, gray and reddish colors on the upper parts ; gray usually pre-
dominates in the spring, the black in midsummer. Sometimes there is no rufous
whatever on the upper surface. The cinnamon color of the. lower parts also
varies in intensity."

Little is known of the nest and eggs of the Knot owing to its retiring habits at
the nesting time and the fact that it breeds in the region of the Arctic Circle, so
little frequented by man. One authentic report, that of Lieutenant A. W. Greely,
describes a single egg that he succeeded in obtaining near Fort Conger while
commanding an expedition to Lady Franklin Sound. This egg was a little more
than an inch in length and about one inch in diameter. Its color was a "light
pea-green, closely spotted with brown in small specks about the size of a pinhead."

904

z

c

c" ^ _

o ::. O
S^ ^

»? »> JO

r 3 o

r: 3 03

(T c i-i

In IVaise of Swallows

i5y R»»l>cil Sparks Walker

.\o oiluT j^roiii) of birds contriljiitcs more than do tlu- swallows to im \m h.im
of llic human race. They constitute a well (k'liiied Kroup, and they won this
hiijh rank as benefactors both to man and beast by their jjcrsistent work in rithlin^
the atmosphere of annoyins^ and dangerous insect ])ests. It is difficult indeed
correctly to imaj^ine just what mijijht be the fate of man in many parts of the
world, if these busy creatures should fail to appear at the i)roper season when
llies, gnats, mosquitoes and other dreaded insects make their appearance. Whether
it is providential, or accidental, it is certainly an inlcrestin}^ coincidence that the
faithful little swalhnvs make their appearance simultaneously with tlie pestiferous
insects upon which they feed. And where do these birds come from? As if
by magic, they appear and disappear with the cominj^ and j^oinj,'' of warm weather.
\'ery swift in flight, these graceful birds may be observed high in the heavens,
tunu'iig graceful curves, darting here and there in pursuit of insect pests, and
then in an almost shockingly short time may be observed skimming along at a
rapid rate of speed down near the surface of the earth. The mouth of the
swallow is very broad, beak short, which makes it an easy matter for it to gulp
ui> the insects while flying at a rapid rate. From tlie habit of sj)ending the most
of their time on Aving, they have developed two very short and rather weak legs.

The number of species of swallow is around eighty, and they are found in
all parts of the world, excepting that portion uchy the poles. Those that inhabit
the colder jiortions of the earth are migratory in habits. In the United States
no person has ever found out just where our common swallows go to sj)cnd the
winter. .A-s cold weather comes on, they begin to move southward, stopping along
the way to visit rivers, lakes or ponds, and then they finally disappear over the
Tiulf of Mexico. It is the general belief that the swallow spends its winters
sonicwhcrc in South .\merica.

Of the eighty species of swallow found in the world, only seven inhabit Xorth
America, and these range as far north as the Arctic Ocean. The largest swallow
is the i)urple martin, and the smallest is the bank swallow! The latter is a wonder-
ful little bird wdien it comes to performing work which seems utterly impossible.
I or its nest it digs out tunnels in sand banks which end in a large chamber. Just
how it can construct these long tunnels with a poor set of tools is not well
understood. Some will even utilize the abandoned holes made by neighboring
birds.

The most common swallow found in North America is the barn swallow.
The clifT or eaves sw-allow is another familiar bird that also commonly visits the
barnyard. The former difTers from the latter in that it possesses a \ery pro-
nounced forked tail. Common throughout the United States is the white-bellied
or tree swallow. It is a beautiful bird that wears a steel blue coat above and
white beneath. The little violet -green swallow found in the western part of the

905

United States much resembles the tree swallow, but it measures only about five
inches in length. The seventh and last species found in the United States is
the rough-winged swallow.

The species of swallow found in South America by far outnumber those in
the United States. As the country has become populated, these birds have left
their wild places of abode, and have taken up life near the houses and barns, where
they find great delight in nesting. Throughout the world the swallows have
shown this gentle spirit of yielding to semi-domestication and it has made them
a pleasing neighbor to man in far-ofif Africa, Asia, Australia, Europe and every-
where. Their pleasing habits have created a great growth of folk-lore, rich
sentiment, and poetry in many lands.

The Dovekie {Aiie Aiie)

By Edward B. Clark

Length : 8 inches.

The Dovekie, commonly called Sea Dove or Little Auk, is a little fellow
with short bill and legs, inhabiting the Atlantic Ocean from the Gulf of St.
Lawrence northward. Dovekies probably do not breed south of Greenland ; in
winter they occur in New Brunswick, Newfoundland, and Labrador, becoming
abundant off Exeter Sound and along the west coast of Baffin Bay.

Probably the most accessible breeding grounds are in Iceland. Many European
bird lovers find that northerly spot much more accessible than any similarly
located place to be reached from either side of the American continent. Iceland
is a veritable bird paradise. Myriads of gulls, sea ducks, shore birds, and boreal
land birds, such as the ptarmigan, gyrfalcon, and finches, haunt the bleak regions
of this island. The Dovekie deposits her single large pale-greenish-blue egg in
crevices of the sea cliffs.

In the far arctic, where all other birds perish, the Dovekie survives.

906

A Little Song

Warm ami Wft \va> that <lay in June.
The swt'cl air thrilled with a r«ihin's tunc

Carolled oNcr and over.
The younj^ k^'rl's cheek was pink as the rose
Tiiat hy the i)|ieii ddorway ^lows
At the <,'azi' of lu-r hashful lover.

A playl'iil hand held a perfect rose

Close to the maiden's fairness
And challenj^ed the gazing, hashfnl ho\-
In a rippling tone of purest joy,

"Which one excels in rareness?"

Xow sundered far are the happy thre<-,
And the home is only a memory

With its doorway framed by roses ;
The hashful boy and the rosy maid
Are old and dignified and staid

As the tale of the years uncloses.

P)Ut I love to think of that day in June.

The girl and the bashful lover.
The wet i)ink rose and the robin's tune

Carolled over and over.

.Ml I.I.IK XoEL Long.

OCTOBER.

October's garb with splendor glows
Ere buried by the winter snows,
As a long life, well-spent, that goes
Radiatit and glorious to its close.

MiLLii-: XoEL Long.

907

The Blue Mountain Lory

By Gerard Alan Abbott

This bird inhabits the vast plains of the interior of New South Wales. It
is one of the handsomest, not only of the Australian parrots, but takes foremost
place among the most gorgeously dressed members of the parrot family that are
to be met with in any part of the world. It is about eleven or twelve inches in
length. The female cannot with certainty be distinguished from her mate, but
is usually a very little smaller. The lory seldom descends to the ground, but
passes the greater part of its life among the gum trees, upon 'the pollen
and nectar'of which it mainly subsists. In times of scarcity, however, it will also
eat grass seeds, as well as insects, for want of which, it is said, it often dies pre-
maturely when in captivity.

Despite his beauty, the Blue Mountain Lory is not a desirable bird to keep,
as he requires great care. A female which survived six years in an aviary, laying
several eggs, though kept singly, was fed on canary seed, maize, a little sugar,
raw beef, and carrots.

Like all the parrot family, these lories breed in hollow boughs, where the
female deposits from three to four white eggs, upon which she sits for twenty-
one days. The young from the first resemble their parents closely, but are a
trifle less brilliantly colored.

They are very active and graceful, but have an abominable shriek. The
noise is said to be nearly as disagreeable as the plumage is beautiful. They are
very quarrelsome and have to be kept apart from the other parrots, which they
will kill. The feathers of the head and neck. are long and very narrow and lie
closely together, the claws are strong and hooked, indicating their tree-climbing
habits.

908

18

BLLK MOUNTAIN LORY.

(Psittacus swainsonii).

Ji Life-size.

COPTRICHT 1*00, ev *. fi. UUMFORO, CHICAGO

The Wood Thrush

By \V. Leon Dawson

l\an«4c. l-.;i>tcrii L'niti'tl States to the I'lains, north to southern Michigan,
Ontario, and Massachusetts; south in winter to Guatemala and Cuha. FJrccds
from \"ir^inia. Kentucky and Kansas northward.

.\hh() all of our Thrushes are retiritiij in di^i)ositioii, the Wood Thrush,
perhaps because of his larger size, is the least sm. Tiie depths of the forest,
indec<l, claim him. Init so too do the shaded lawns of village streets and city
l>arks. In his woodland homo this Thrush does not tlee as tho a price had
been ^^t•t upon bis head, but often comes forward — not too close — with a pit of
iufjuiry and greeting.

The Wood Thrush spends considerable time on the ground looking for
beetles and worms, but he is ready at a moment's notice to flutter up on a log
or low branch, and stand there surveying you, flirting, or twinkling, the wings
occasionally to indicate his perfect readiness for further retreat, or else ruffling
and shaking his feathers as tho to shake off the memory of the mold. A false
step now and he may disappear irrevocably down some forest isle ; a quiet glance
of admiration serves to reasure him, and he may resume his feeding.

There is an air of gentleness and good breeding about the bird, which goes
a long way to disarm a wanton enemy, and one studiously hostile there could
not be. Brighter than the other Thrushes in color, and marked unmistakably
with heavy spots upon breast and sides, the Wood Thrush is further dis-
tinguished in a gifted family by its wonderful voice. The chanting of the W^ood
Thrush is one of the choice things in bird music. In the freshness of the undried
morning the bird mounts a low limb and takes up a part in the grand anthem
of nature, whose complementary voices may be lost to any ear less fine than his.
The birds listens to the retreating foot-steps of the morning stars, and sings "Far
azcay — far azcay." Zephyr stirs the unfolding leaves with his boyish alto and our
matchless tenor responds, "Come to mc — Here in glee — bide a zvec," in cadences of-
surpassing sweetness. Altho the singer's voice is rich and strong, so that he may
be heard at times for half a mile, there are at the same time grace notes and
finer passages which only a near-by listener can catch. The notes, I am told
by musical critics, are, of all bird notes, the most nearly reducible to ordinary
musical notation ; but the peculiar timbre of the bird's voice, the rich vibrant
quality of the tones, is of course inimitable. Their utterance at morning and
evening is something more than a clever musical performance ; it is worship.

The typical situation for a nest is upon an overarching sapling, as shown in
the nearest illustration. To secure a romantic site stability is sometimes sacri-
ficed, and the nest, loosely saddled upon a narrow branch, may be toppled over
by the wind or by a careless hand. At other times the nest is securely lodged
upon the forks of a horizontal limb or upright sapling, and may prove very
durable.

909

Upon a foundation of dry leaves are laid grass, fibres, and weed-stems; these
are held in place by a matrix of mud or rotton wood, and the nest lined with
rootlets or dead leaves. The mud-working must be disagreeable business for
such dainty birds. I once came upon a mother mason at her task. Her bill and
breast were all bedaubed with mud, and she cut such a sorry figure that she
fled precipitately upon my approach and would not come back again.

According to Dr. Jones the same nest is occupied during successive seasons,
especially if securely placed. Repairs are made each year, and consist either
of a new matrix and lining or of the latter alone. He has one in his collection
which shows four distinct yearly additions.

The brooding female is unusually devoted to her eggs, and altho in mani-
fest terror of the "infernal machine" thrust up close to her nest, bravely returns
to her charge again and again.

The Chickadee

By Thomas Nuttall

This familiar, hardy and restless little bird chiefly inhabits the northern
and middle States, as well as Canada. In the latter country it is found even in
winter around Hudson's Bay.

During autumn and winter families of these birds are seen chattering and
roving through the woods, busily engaged in gleaning food. Along with the
Creepers and Nuthatches they form a busy, active and noisy group, whose
manners, habits and food bring them together in a common pursuit. Their diet
varies with the season ; for besides insects and their eggs, of which they are
particularly fond, in September they leave the woods and assemble familiarly in
our orchard and gardens. Sometimes they even enter cities in quest of food.
•Large seeds of many kinds, particularly those which are oily, are now sought
after. Fat of various kinds is also greedily eaten, and the Chickadees regularly
watch the retreat of the hog-killers in the country to glean up the fragments of
meat which adhere to the places where the carcasses have been suspended. At
times they feed upon the wax of the candleberry myrtle. They likewise pick up
crumbs near the houses, and search the weather-boards, and even the windowsills
for insect prey. They are particularly fond of spiders and the eggs of destructive
moths, especially those of the canker worm, which they greedily devour in all
stages of its existence.

In winter, when hunger is satisfied, they will descend to the snow and
quench their thirst by swallowing small bits. In this way their various and frugal
meal is always easily supplied ; atid hardy and warmly clad in light and very
downy feathers, they suffer little inconvenience from the inclemency of the sea-
sons. Their roost is in the hollows of decayed trees, where they also breed,

mo

making a soft nest of moss, hair and feathers, and laying from six to twelve
eggs, which are white, with sjjecks of hrown-red. They hegin to lay ahout the
middle or close of April, and though they commonly make use of natural or
deserted holes of the woodpecker, yet they frc(|uently excavate a cavity for them-
selves with much lahor. The first brood takes wing ahout the 7th of 10th of
June, and there is sometimes a second hrood toward the end of July. The y<iung,
as soon as fledged, have all the external marks of the adult, the head is equally
hlack. and they chatter and skip ahout with all the agility and self-j)ossession of
their parents, who appear nevertheless very solicitous for their safety.

I'Vom this time on the whole family continue to associate together thrcjugh
the autumn and winter. They seem to move in concert from tree to tree, keeping
up a continued 'tshc-dc-dc-dc-dc and 'tshc-dc-dc-dc-dait, preceded hy a shrill
whistle, all the while husily engaged picking around the huds and branches, hang-
ing frf)iu their extremities and ])rocecding often in reversed ])osturc. head down-
ward, like so many tumblers. l)rying into every crevice of the hark and searching
round the roots and in every possible retreat of their insect prey or its larvt'e.
If th.e object chance to fall, they industriously descend to the ground and glean it
up with the utmost economy.

Almost the only note of this bird which may be. called a song, is one which
is frequently heard at intervals in the depth of the forest, or from the orchard
trees. Although more frequently uttered in spring, it is now and then whistled
on warm days even in winter; it may be heard, in fact, in every month of the
year. It consists of two. or, less frequently, three clearly-whistled and rather
melancholy notes, like the syllables phcc-hcc, not drawled like the song of the
wood Pewee. and sweeter and more even than the cry of the Phoebe.

The Chickadee is found in summer in dry, shady and secluded woods, but
when the weather becomes cold, and as early as October, roving families, pressed
by necessity and failure of their ordinary insect fare, now being to frequent
orchards and gardens, appearing extremely familiar, hungry, indigent, but in-
dustrious. i)rying with restless anxiety into every cranny of the bark or holes in
decayed trees after dormant insects, spiders and larva;. The Chickadee adds
by its presence, indomitable action and chatter, an air of cheerfulness to the silent
and dreary winters of the coldest parts of Xorth .America.

The Chickadee is very generally distributed throughout the northern part
of eastern Xorth .\merica. Its nest is built as far south as Illinois and Pennsyl-
vania, and as far north as Labrador. High up in the .Mleghany Mountains it
nests still farther south. In the South and West occur closely related forms with
similar habits.

911

Yellow-Throated Toucan {Ramphastos erythroynchus

Rhaniphostidae)

By Gerard Alan Abbott

Length : 18 inches.

The Yellow-throated Toucan, a large billed bird found in tropical America,
bears some resemblance to the hornbill of Asia and Africa. The most striking
feature of this handsome bird is the monstrous bill, and the bird's chief mission
seems to be to care for it, as it frees its beak from every stain and carefully tucks
it away among its feathers or rests it on its back while sleeping. The bill seems
entirely out of proportion to the size of the bird, but it is of a light honeycombed
structure and is not so heavy as it appears. It has been suggested that the bill
masticates the food since the bird has no gizzard. The awkward hopping gait is
in striking contrast to the easy graceful flight. It feeds on fruits principally, but
eggs, fish, and even small birds may enter into the diet. While feeding a sentinel
is stationed to give the cry "Toucano," from which the name is derived. Toucans
live in flocks in forests, nesting in hollow trees. These birds are killed not only
because of their beautiful plumage but also as food.

??

"Old Head Hunter'

By Bert G. Hochwalt

It was a brilliant, starry night, in early autumn. A full moon rode high in
the vaulted heavens and shed its rich, mellow rays over fields and forests, where,
filtering through the leaves of the dark and silent trees it cast fantastic splotches
of white light upon the woodland paths. The chirp of crickets and the monotonous
drone of numerous other nocturnal insects still filled the air, while the occasional
call of some night bird startled the intruder with its weird and mysterious
sounds.

During a lull in the insect serenade there came floating slowly upon the crisp
night wind the hoarse, discordant hoot of a great horned owl from somewhere in
the distance. Scarcely audible at first, it rose in sound and volume until all
the furry nightfolk of the forest scampered in terror to places of safety, and
well they might, for they knew the prowess and hunting ability of "Old Head
Hunter," as the folks in the neighboring village called this wraith-likc bird, be-
cause of the numerous depredations he committed in their poultry yards and
dove cotes ; taking only the heads of his victims, as the brains were the tid-bits
he delighted in. Again "Old Head Hunter" was preparing to exact his nightly
toll from among the smaller denizens of the forest.

In almost uncanny silence, on swift hawk-like wings he came sailing through
the woodland and alighted on the dead branch of a towering oak, from where
he made his sallies upon his unfortunate victims. A deep-toned "to-whoo-hoo-

912

YELLOW-THROATED TOUCAN.
'■'. Life-sii-e

uuMrtmo, CHICAGO

lio(}. to-uhoo-lioo"! that souiuk-d like a muftk-d roll of llmiKkr startled the furry
folk, antl aj^'ain sent them scampering to i)laces of safety. But one poor unfor-
tunate little mouse, prohahly a bit holder than the rest, ventured too far from its
place of safety, and before it had time to escape, the sharj) claws of "< )!,|
Head Hunter"' had sunk into its back; with a squeak of terror the moi
borne in triumi)h to the ilead oak limb, where the great horned owl, fur .-^ucii
"Old Head Hunter"' was, began to devour his victim. With his powerful beak
he ripped the head from the body, which he cast to the ground. Another rip and
he laid bare the brains, which he guljjcd down with evident relish.

"Olil Head Hunter," unlike the rest of his tribe, was not content with
dt\ci:rirg his victims, but only delighted in eating their brains, so that he
always kept up a relentless attack upon quail, grouse, snipe, rats, .squirrels, mice,
chickens, turkeys, in short about evcryting he could kill. His nightly toll was
between ten and twenty victims, and the neighboring villages, unwilling to tamely
submit to his maraudings upon their poultry coops, offered rewards for his body.
But "Old Head Hunter" was too wary for all them and invariably eluded their
most cunning schemes to capture or to kill him.

In another i)art of the forest all. was serene and calm. .\ break among
the stately trees permitted a flood of rich yellow light to silver tlie ground. In
this spot a mother rabliit was giving her half-erown children their evening
exercise. Running about, gamboling over the rich carjiet of fallen leaves, the
young cotton-tails, probably soon to be food lor the hunters' guns, w^re having,
oblivious to all impending danger, a delightful time. Suddenly a great ominous
shadow poised over them. The mother rabbit squeaked her call of alarm, but too
late! A short scuffle, a clapping of huge wings and one of her little family fell
victim to the ravenous maw of "Old Head Hunter,'" who sailed silently back
to his perch to devour his latest prize. Where only a few minutes before peace
and freedom dwelt, now a poor mother was mourning the loss of one of her
voung, powerless to avenge its untimely death. The brains of the young rabbit
only served to whet "Old Head Hunter's" appetite, and with another long and
weird hoot he was off in search of another victim, which this time happened to be
a large rat that momentarily exposed himself as he ran across a moonlit space near
a farm yard. In a few seconds the rodent was beheaded and the brains devoured.
A pigeon straggler in a dove cote near the scene of the last tragedy wai the
next to fall a prey to the rapacious bird of the night. "Old Head Hunter" was
fairly gloating in blood. The terror of the woods was in his glory.

Having feasted on pigeon brain, "Old Head Hunter," not wishing to take
any more chances in such close proximity to a human habitation, sailed back
toward the woods in search of another variety of brain special. He had not
long to wait.

In a marshy bog that bordered his domain, a small flock of ducks had
paused for rest and food on their long migration southward. His sharp ears
caught their squawks of contentedness as they settled for the night; his piercing

913

eyes discerned them among the reeds and swooping with a rush he descended
upon the flock and his sharp claws tore into the soft back of a mallard duck.
With a sqawk of terror the unfortunate bird was borne to ''Old Head Hunter's"'
perch, where he speedily went the way of his predecessors.

Just as "rosy-fingered dawn" was tinting the eastern sky the Great Horned
Owl disposed of his last victim, a song sparrow that had stirred out a little too
early. As the darkness of the forest began rapidly giving way to the grey
twilight of the early morning, he slowly and silently sailed away to his home,
somewhere in the depths of the tamarack swamp, where he still lives unmolested
and unavenged, for he has builded wisely, as the approach to his castle, owing
to the tangled undergrowth and insecure footing, is almost impossible for human
pursuers.

Ruby -Crowned Kinglet {Regulus Calendula)

By W. Leon Dawson
Range. — North America at large, south to Guatemala, north to the Arctic
Coast, breeding chiefly north of the United States and in the higher ranges of
the West.

"Where's your kingdom, little king?
Where's the land you call your own?
Where's your palace and your throne?
Fluttering lightly on the wing
Through the blossom world of May,
Whither lies your royal way?
Where's the realm that owns your sway.
Little King?"-
Dr. Henry Van Dyke is the questioner, and the little bird has a ready answer
for him. It is "Labrador" in May, and

"Where the cypress' vivid green
And the dark magnolia's sheen
Weave a shelter round my home"
in October. I'ut under tlie incitement of the poet's playful banter the Kinglet
enlarges his claim :

"Never king by right divine
Ruled a richer realm than mine !
What are lands and golden crowns,
Armies, fortresses and towns.
Jewels, scepters, robes and rings,
What are these to song and wings?
Everywhere that I can fly
There I own the earth and sky ;
Everywhere that I can sing
There I'm happy as a king."

914

And sun-ly iIutc is no om- wIki laii iniit this dainty nionaiili in oni- of
his ha|)|)y ninods without payin}^ instant hoinaj^r. \\\> iniptrium is that of the
spirit, and those who boast a soul ahovc* the elod must swear feahy to this most
dehcatc expression of the creative Inlinite. tliis thought of ( iod made hnninous
and vocal, and own him kinjj by rij^ht divine.

it was only yesterday I saw him, I'"aster day. The significant dawn was
stiujj^linf; with jj;reat masses of heajjed-up clouds, the incredulities an<l fears
of the world's ni^ht ; but now and again the invincible sun found some tiny
rift and poured a flood of tender <jold upon a favored spot where stood some
solitary tree or expectant sylvan company. Along the river bank all was still.
There were no signs of spring save for the modest springing violet and the pious
buckeye, shaking its latc-prisoncd fronds to the morning air, and tidily setting in
order its manifold array of I-laster candles. The oak trees were gray and hushed,
and the swamp elms held their peace until the fortunes of the morning should be
decided. Suddenly from down the ri\er path there came a tiny burst of angel
music, the peerless song of the Ruby-crown. Pure, ethereal, without hint of
earthly dross or sadness, canu' those lini])i(l. welling notes, the sweetest and the
gladdest ever sung — at least by those who have not suffered. It was not, indeed,
the greeting of earth to the risen Lord, but rather the ;mniiiui:ition of the glorious
fact by heaven's own appointed herald.

The Ruby-crowned Kinglet has something of the nervousness and vivacity
of the typical Wren. It moves restlessly from twig to twig, Hirting its w'ings
with a motion too (|uick for the eye to follow, and fre(|uently. uttering a titter
of alarm, chit-tit or chit-it-it. During migrations the birds swarm through the
tree-tops like Warblers, but are oftener found singly or in small companies in
thickets or open clusters of saplings. In such situations they exhibit more or less
curiosity, and if one keeps reasonably still he is almost sure to be inspected from
a distance not exceeding four or five feet. It is here too that the males are
found singing in spring. The bird often begins sotto voce with two or three
high squeaks, as though trying to get the pitch down to the range of mortal ears
before he gives his full voice. The core of the song is something like "tci\.', tew,
tew, tew, sweet to eat, swcet-oo eat," the last phrases being given with a rising
inflection, and with an accent of raxishing sweetness. The tones are so pure
that they may readily be whistled by the human listener, and a niusical contest
provoked in which one is glad to come out second best.

I once saw a Kinglet in a royal mood. .\ young Ruby-crown was carolling,
and (|uite prettily, in the lower jjranchcs of an old oak tree hard by. I was watch-
him closely to see if I might catch a glint of red. when uj) darted an old rival
and flashed a jewel so dazzling as to fairly smite the eye. Tiie youngling felt
the rebuke keenly, and retired in great confusion. It seems that when the bird
is angry it has the power of erecting its crest and so unveiling the full glory of
the rubv crown.

91;

The Canada Grouse {Branta Canadensis)
By Seth Mindwell

Length: 15 inches.

The Canada Grouse, also called the Spruce Partridge, frequents the ever-
green forests and swamps and the shrubby areas of British America east of
the Rocky Mountains, and in Alaska it is a resident of the Pacific coast. In its
southern flights it seldom passes beyond the latitude of the northern portion of
New England and Minnesota.

This bird is an interesting member of the bird family Tetraonidae, which also
includes the birds variously called bob-white, quail and partridge, the ptarmi-
gans and the prairie hen. The family includes about two hundred species, about
one-half of which belong to the Old World. There arc twenty-five distinct
species of the subfamily of grouse. . These are practically confined to the higher
latitudes of the northern hemisphere and are strictly speaking non-migratory. In
fact, nearly all the birds of this family are resident throughout the year in the
localities where they are found.

They are terrestrial in their habits, and when frightened they usually depend
on hiding in places where their dull colors will least attract attention, but they
will, occasionally, fly into trees when flushed.

The Canada Grouse, like all the related species, is a bird of rapid flight. The
feathers of their small wings are stiff, causing a whirring sound during flight.
The male during the mating season gives a great deal of attention to his appear-
ance. He is quite black in general color and more or less barred with white un-
derneath and above with gray or reddish brown. The female is not quite as large
as the male, and is not as dark in color. Above the eye of the male there is a
small area of bare skin, which is a bright vermilion color.

These gentle and retiring birds mate in the early spring and remain together
through the breeding season. Captain Bendire states that he has good reason
for believing that the mating may last for more than one season, as he has fre-
quently found a pair, in the depth of the winter, when no other individuals of the
same species were near. The nest, consisting of loosely arranged blades of grass
and a few stalks and twigs, is built by the hen on a slight elevation of ground,
usually under the low branches of a spruce tree.

The number of eggs varies greatly. Mr. Ridgway says that they vary in num-
ber from nine to sixteen. The eggs also vary greatly in color from a pale, creamy
buff through various shades of brownish buff, and arc irregularly spotted with a
deeper brown, though occasionally they are spotless.

During the spring and summer months the food of the Canada Grouse con-
sists very largely of the berries of plants belonging to the Pleath family, such as
the blueberry, the huckleberry and the bcarberry, as well as the tender buds of the
spruce. In the winter it feeds almost entirely on these buds, and the needle-like

916

leaves of the spruce, the fir or the tamarack trees. At times they seem to show
a preference for certain trees, and will nearly strip the foliage from them.

As a food for man their flesh is far from satisfactory. It is dark-colored
and stron^'ly flavored with the odor of their natural food. However, certain
Indian tribes arc said to relish them and hunt them extensively.

Mr. Bishop, in "Forest and Stream," relates the folluwinjj very interesting
account of the strutting of the male Canada (Irousc when in captivity. He says,
"I will describe as nearly as I can his conduct and attitude while strutting: The
tail stands almost erect, the win.^s are slightly raised from the body atid a little
ilrooped. the head is still well up, and the feathers of breast and throat are raised
and standing out in regular rows, which press the feathers of the nape and hind
neck well back, forming a smooth kind of ca|ie on the hack of the neck. This
smooth cape contrasts beautifully with the rufUled black and white feathers of the
throat and forebrcnst. The red comb over each eye is enlarged until the two
nearly meet over the top of the head. This comb the bird is able to enlarge or
reduce at will, andw bile he is strutting the expanded tail is moved from side to
side. The two center feathers do not move, but each side expands and con-
tracts alternately with each step the bird walks. The movement of the tail pro-
duces a peculiar rustling, like that of silk. This attitude gives him a very dignified
and even conceited air. He tries to attract attention in every possible way, by
flying from the ground up on a perch, and back to the ground, making all the noise
be can in so doing. Then he will thump some hard substance with his bill. I
have had him fly up on my shoulder and thump my collar. .At this season he is
very bold, and will scarcely keep enough out of the way to avoid being stepped on.
He will sometimes sit with his breast almost touching the earth, his feathers erect
as in strutting, and making peculiar nodding and circular motions of the head
from side to side ; he will remain in this position two or three minutes at a time.
He is a most beautiful bird, and shows by his actions that he is perfectly aware
of the fact."

There seems to be a diversity of opinion regarding the method followed by
this grouse to produce the drumming sound. Mr. Everett Smith, as quoted by
Captain Rcndire. says, "The Canada Grouse performs its drumming upon the
trunk of a standing tree of rather small size, preferably one that is inclined from
the perpendicular, and in the following manner: Commencing near the base of
the tree selected, the l)ird flutters upward with somewhat slow progress, but
rapidly beating wings, which produce the drumming sound. Having thus ascended
fifteen or twenty feet it glides quietly on the wing to the ground and repeats the
maneuver." According to this and other authorities a tree, usually spruce, hav-
ing a diameter of about six inches and inclining at an angle of about fifteen degrees,
is selected. Frequently these trees are used so extensively and for so long a time
that the bark on the upper side will be much worn. Other authorities, and among
them Indians, who live in the regions frequented by this grouse, claim that the
drumming is produced while flying from the branches of a tree to the ground,
repeating the operation several times in succession, .\nother authority describes

917

the drumming of the male as follows: "After strutting back and forth for a few
minutes, the male flew straight up, as high as the surrounding trees, about four-
teen feet ; here he remained stationary an instant, and while on suspended wing
did the drumming with the wings, resembling distant thunder, meanwhile drop-
ping down slowly to the spot from where he started, to repeat the same thing
over and over again."

The Canada Grouse is easily domesticated and would make an interesting and
amiable bird pet, because of their peculiar habits.

The Brown Thrush or Thrasher the King

of Singers

By W. H. Pomeroy, Stamford

As I was sitting on a stump by the beautiful Rippowam, one Sunday after-
noon early in May, listening to the purling of the waters as they hurried toward
Long Island Sound, suddenly to my ears came an exquisite melody filled with
joyous gladsomeness, gurgling, trilling, warbling, lilting, rollicking along in an
abandoned fashion. Recognizing the singer by his song, I made my way through
the brush and soon reached an opening, across which, perched on the tip of a
forty foot tree, and in the midst of his joyous fanfare of melody, sat a beautiful
specimen of North America's famous song bird, the brown thrush or "thrasher."

South of Mason and Dixon's line you will be told that the mocking bird
is the world's most famous singer. I have listened to him in his gilded cage
and in his native wilds, and I note this difiference between him and his northern
cousin. When one has listened to the mocking bird for ten or fifteen minutes,
one has heard about all of his repertoire. Listen to the brown thrush for half
an hour today, and again tomorrow, and again the day after, and you will have
only just begun to appreciate his marvelous versatility as an imitator of other
birds, to say nothing of hi?; own variations which he adds ad libitum, never seem-
ing to tire.

In the order of the excellence of their singing, the brown thrush should be
accorded first place, while his modest little cousin, the catbird, easily takes second
place, and the mocking bird stands third on the list. All three are "mockers"
and seem to be distant cousins. They have many characteristics in general. The
brown thrush however has one trait that dififerentiatcs him from the other two,
a characteristic which concerns his domestic relations and is not generally known
even by bird lovers. In fact I have seen no reference to it in the difi'erent books
that I have consulted on the subject.

For several seasons I was puzzled by the name "thrasher" given to him by
country people. Numerous inquiries elicited nothing by way of explanation,
except that one bewhiskered old fellow said, "They thrash the ground, and that

918

is why \vf call tlifiii thrashers." This soiiiKk-d "lishy" to inc. and was not satisfv-
\ng. I resolved to ohserve personally and larcfnlly The result of my ohserva-
tions may he of interest to your readers.

When making love to his lady fair he selects a level hit of j^roun<l closely
screened by overhan^'inj:^ hushes. IVom this he removes all leaves and ^rass
and ruhhish sweepiufj the j)lace clean. If conditions are favorahle he will some-
times prepare two or three of these thrashing places adjacent to one antjthcr.
Hither he calls his sweetheart, and on her arrival he hegins a grotesfjue dance,
ho|)pin}^ and cavorting; in a fantastic manner, and. jtnnpin}^ up a foot or two, he
strikes the earth with cupped wince's, making^ a sound out of all proportion to his
size. This may he distinctly heard at a distance of from two hundred to three
hundred feet.

There is douhtless some analogy hctween this performance, the strutting of
the turkey gohbler and the drunmiing of the male grouse. It seems to be an
attempt to charm his lady fair. I do not know that a full-grown man could
succeed in witnessing it. hut 1 am sure that a small, barefoot boy could do so.
lUit any one may hear his marvellous song.

It should he remembered, however, that the i)eriod during which the thrush
sings is brief indeed, covering in Xew Kngland scarcely more than two or three
weeks in May. The catbird sings longer. He may he heard on almost any
morning, w-elcoming the sunrise with his sweet and joyful music. Again in the
late- afteriioon he delights in speeding the .jiarting day with his t,dorious song.
He often continues to sing through June and even into July.

He is a willing assistant to the maternal catbird, acconi|)anying her on all
her journeys in search for food for their hungry family, yet he is a happy-go-
lucky sort of fellow ; good cheer is his middle name. On his account the world
is a brighter place to live in. Human husbands might well learn a lesson from
him.

The paternal thrush takes life more seriously, hrom the time when the
first brown splotched eggs are laid in the nest under the birch tree, he devotes
himself to the mother thrush, and later on to the little thrushes, not even taking
time to sing, and you will not have the privilege of again hearing his wonderful
music until next year. This may be the reason why so few become acquainted
with him and learn to know and love his wonderful song. He is also one of the
first birds to migrate to the south, leaving us as soon as the young are strong
enough to imdertake the journey.

When waves of Summer heat roll o'er the land.

Is Nature robed in coolest, freshest green ;
But when cold nights and frosts are near at hand.

Her raiment is the brightest to be seen.

Emma Peirce.

919

The Great Blue Heron

By John James Audubon

Few of our waders are more interesting than the birds of the Heron family.
Their contours and movements are always graceful, if not elegant. Look on the
one that stands near the margin of the pure stream ! See his reflection dipping
as it were into the smooth water, the bottom of which it might reach had it
not to contend with the numerous boughs of these magnificent trees ! Flow calm,
how silent, how grand is the scene ! The tread of the tall bird himself no one
hears, so carefully does he place his foot on the moist ground, cautiously sus-
pending it for a while at each step of his progress. Now his golden eye glances
over the surrounding objects, in svirveying which he takes advantage of the
full stretch of his graceful neck. Satisfied that no danger is near he lays his
head on his shoulder, allows the feathers of his breast to droop and patiently
waits the approach of his finny prey. You might imagine what you see to be
the statue of a bird, so motionless it is. But now he moves ; he has taken a
silent step and with great care he advances ; slowly does he raise his head from
his shoulders, and now what a sudden start ! His formidable bill has transfixed
a perch, which he beats to death on the ground. See with what difficulty he
gulps it down his capacious throat, and then opens his broad wings and slowly
flies to another station.

The Great Blue Fleron is met with in every part of the Union. Although
more abundant in the low lands of our Atlantic Coast it is not uncommon in
the country west of the Alleghany Mountains. It have found it in every State
in which I have traveled, as well as in all our territories. It is well known
from Louisiana to Maine, but seldom occurs farther east than Prince Edward
Island, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and not a Heron of any kind did I see
or hear of in Newfoundland or Labrador. Westward I believe it reaches to
the very base of the Rocky Mountains.

It is a hardy bird and bears the extremes of temperature surprisingly,
being in its tribe what the Passenger Pigeon is in the family of Doves. It is
not rare in the middle States, though more plentiful to the west and south of
Pennsylvania.

Extremely suspicious and shy, this bird is ever on the lookout. Its sight
is as acute as that of any Falcon, and it can hear at a considerable distance,
so that it is enabled to mark with precision different objects it sees, and to judge
with accuracy of the sounds which it hears. Unless under very favorable cir-
cumstances it is almost hopeless to attempt to approach it. I have seen many
so wary that on seeing a man at the distance of half a mile they would take
to wing, and the report of a gun forces one off his grounds from a distance at
which you would think he could not be alarmed.

The Blue Heron feeds at all hours of the day, as well as in the dusk and
dawn and even at night when the weather is clear, his appetite alone dctcnnining

920

liis actiuus III till- n-iif. t . Win I am certain that when (hslurhed during,' dark
nights it ftfls hcwildt-rcd and ahghts as soon as possible. When jjassing from
one pari of the country to another at a (hstance the case is dilTerent. and on
such occasions they fly at night high above the trees, continuini,' their movements
in a regular manner.

1 he crjnimcncement of the nesting season ni the Circat Blue Heron varies
according to the latitude, from the beginning of March to the middle of June.
In I'lorida it takes place about the first of these periods, in the middle States
about the 15th of May, and in Maine a month later.

It is at the approach of this period only that these birds associate in pairs,
they being gejicrally quite solitary at all other times. E.xcept during the nesting
season each individual seems to secure for itself a certain district as a feeding
ground, giving chase to every intruder of its own species. At such times they
also repose singly, for the most part roosting on trees, although sometimes taking
their station on the ground in the midst of a wide marsh, so that they may be
secure from the approach of man. This unsocial temper pro1)ably arises from
the desire of securing a certain abundance of food, of which each bird requires a
large quantity.

The nest of the Blue Heron is large and Hat, externally composed of dry
sticks and matted with weeds and mosses to a considerable thickness. \\ hen
the trees are large and convenient you may see several nests on the same tree.
Three eggs are laid in the nest. They are very small compared with the size of
the bird, measuring only two and a half by one and a half inches. They are of
a dull bluish white color, without spots, and of a regular oval form.

The male and female sit alternately, receiving food from each other, their
mutual affection being as great as it is toward their young, which are provided
for so abundantly that it is not uncommon to find the nest containing a surplus
of fish and other food.

As the young grow older they are less frequently fed, although still as
copiously supplied whenever opportunity offers. But now and then I have
observed them, when the nests were low, calling for food in vain. The quantity
which they now require is so great that all the exertions of the old birds appear
at times to be insufficient to satisfy their voracious appetites. They do not pro-
vide for themselves until fully able to fly. when their parents chase them off and
force them to shift as they can.

This species takes three years in attaining maturity, and even after that
period it still increases in size and weight. When just hatched the young birds
have a very uncouth appearance, the legs and neck being very long as well as
the bill. By the end of a week the head and neck are sparingly covered WMth
long tufts of silky down, of a dark gray color, and the body shows young
feathers, the quills large with soft blue sheaths. At the end of four weeks the
body and wings are well covered with feathers of a dark slate color, broadly
margined with brownish-red ; the bill has grown wonderfully, the legs are quite

021

strong and the birds are able to stand erect on the nest or on the objects near it.

They are now seldom fed oftener than once a day, as if their parents were
intent on teaching them that abstinence without which it would often be difficult
for them to subsist in after life. At the age of six or seven weeks they fly off,
and at once go in search of food, each by itself. These birds feed on fish, frogs,
lizards, snakes, shrews, meadow mice and other animals.

The Great Blue Heron occurs throughout North America south of the
Arctic regions. It extends through the West Indies and the northern part of
South America. It winters from the middle States southward.

The Habits of the Wilson's Phalarope

(Phalaropus tricolor)
By F. M. Woodruff

The family Phalaropodidse has a very restricted membership, comprising
only three species, two of which are found principally along the sea coasts of
the Northern Hemisphere. Wilson's Phalarope, unlike its relatives, is distinctly
an American bird. Its range is chiefly inland, extending from the Mississippi
Valley and Great Lake Region westward and north into the British provinces.

Few persons aside from those who are closely in touch with Nature can claim
even a passing acquaintance with this beautiful creature, the Phalarope. Its
soft, delicate plumage consists of various shades of chestnut, black, gray and
white, giving an elegant and symmetrical appearance to the bird, which is equaled
only by its graceful and gentle demeanor. Fortunate is he who can survive an
attack from mosquitoes and venture among the mossy bogs and quagmires to
study the Phalaropes in their nature haunts. After such a visit one can scarcely
refrain from admiring their unsuspicious and peaceful conduct. Well do I re-
member my initial experience with this little shore 'bird. It is only one of the
many anecdotes which are jotted down in the note book of the field ornithologist,
but it formed a vivid impression upon my mind. In company with a friend I
was traversing a prairie marsh, near Chicago, where bobolinks and meadow larks
abounded. Our destination was a dense copse, resorted to annually by warblers
and flycatchers during the breeding season. We were admiring the aerial per-
formance of a marsh hawk, when we were greeted on either side by a male
Phalarope and a pair of Bartram's sandpipers.

Both species were entirely new to us in the wild state, and so complete was
this surprise that we were unable to account for their sudden and unexpected
appearance. The sandpipers hovered about on quivering wings, continually
uttering their long-drawn-out plaintive yet melodious whistle.

The Phalarope displayed no less an amount of uneasiness as he darted back
and forth in an undulating manner. His voice was a feeble "onk. onk," and
lacked the distinctness of the Bartram's clear whistle, which was audible at the

922

§"? =

Co'/

** T C

? ~ c/.

~ o' ~
•so —

distance ul half a iiiilc. Il was aboiil llic iniiMlc ul June-, rather a late date for
finding eggs of either riialarojH.' or sandpiper, and after an extensive search we
abandoned the place, baflled in our atteiu])ts to discover either nest or ycnuig.

Svveral years later, while in North Dakota. I formed a more extensive ac-
cjuaintance with Wilson's I'halarope. an<l ha<l the pleasure of meeting not only the
male, hut his better half. Contrary to the laws of Nature in general regarding
other families of the feathered congregation, the l'halar(jpes possess peculiar
characteristics decidedly their own. The female is superior in size and more bril-
liantly colored than her mate. She also shirks the domestic tasks so far as her
sex i)ermits, and the household responsibilities are assumed by the male. Mrs.
IMialarope does the courting, displaying her plumage to the best advantage before
the shy and indifferent male, who Hies from pond to pond. .She f(jllows per-
sistcntlv and endeavors by a scries of bows and gesticulations to win his favor.
The male hollows out a small place in a mossy bog or damp meadow, sufficient
to hold four eggs, which are ashy yellow in color and densely marked and streaked
with rich brown and black. The eggs average one and twenty-eight-hundrcdths
inches in length by ninety-four-hundredths of an inch in width, and are usually
very pointed. Some nests are .scantily lined with grass blades or stems, but,
judging from their usual appearance and the exposed situation in which the
eggs arc often found. I doubt if the male exerts himself when constructing their
domicile. Nevertheless he sits patiently upon the eggs until three weeks have
elapsed, when the voung leave the shell to follow their father about in search of
food.

The little fellows are chestnut-brown, streaked with a darker shade.

In the meantime the females have congregated in small groups and may be
seen running about the water margin or swimming buoyantly upon the tranquil
surface of pond or lagoon. These birds excel other waders in swimming, because
their toes are scalloped, or semipalmated. and well adapted for such purposes.

Twenty years ago Illinois was a favorite summer home for the Wilson Pha-
larope. but they are becoming scarce, and from what I can learn, the bird is now
regarded as a rare breeder east of the Mississippi River, except perhaps in Wis-
consin, where thcv still gather during June to rear their young around the bor-
ders of isolated lakes.

923

Marsh Hawk {Circus Hudsonius)

The ashy upper parts, white rump and long tail of the adult male sufficiently
distinguish this hawk; while the fuscous upper parts and buff under parts much
streaked with brown distinguish the female and young.

Range : Breeds through much of Canada, south to the middle United States ;
winters in the United States, especially in the south.

Though not exclusively a marsh frequenter, as its name might seem to imply,
this hawk prefers open country, and its favorite hunting grounds are meadow
and marsh, in which it nests on the ground. It flies rather low, the better to
see and drop suddenly upon the luckless meadow mice — its favorite food. Un-
fortunately small birds form part of its fare, and there are localities, like Cape
Cod and Martha's Vineyard, in Massachusetts, where this hawk has earned a
bad reputation as a destroyer of poultry and game. However, over much the
larger part of the vast territory it inhabits, the marsh hawk is a rodent eater, and
the debt of gratitude it lays upon the farmer is large. This debt should be fully
discharged by preserving the bird and encouraging its presence unless it is
caught committing overt acts. In other words, as this hawk is very beneficial
over most of its range, individual hawks should be presumed to be innocent
unless detected in transgression.

The Abandoned Nest

By Melicent Humason Lee

Slight structure, woven to a birchen bough,
What memories hast thou
When winter breezes blow, and furry snow
Clings to the sedges of thy withered brow?
Dost thou remember how, in spring, a bride
Brought bits of bark and tucked them in thy side,
And quilt from hornet's nest, and lacey foam
From spider's web to decorate, her home ?

What tenderness, what ecstasy, what zest
Inspired her young breast

To tear from cloistered couch the cat-tail seeds,
And meet the warmth a little birdling needs!
How many feeble chirps have filled thy cave?
How many beaks have begged the food she gave ?
Now, but a blast explores thy cradle crude,
Where once a mother reared her little brood.

924

Pectoral Sandpiper (I'isohiu niacniatu)

Ranfjc: Breeds on the Arctic coast frcjin iiortlicrn Alaska l<j mouth of
Yukon and northeastern Mackenzie; winters in South Anieriea from Peru and
l?oHvia to northern Chile, Arjjentina, and central l'ataj,Mjnia.

The "grass l)ird." or "krieker," does not share the predilecti(jn of many
of its relatives for the sea beach, hut prefers mud Hats and marshes. In late
fall the grass on the salt-water marshes is high enough to hide the krieker,
and yet not oflfer resistance to its progress, and it is suri)rising how difficult
it is U) see one as it stands motionless watching the enemy with unalarmed
eyes. This sandpij)er arrives on the IJcring Sea coast to breed in May, and
Xelson's account of its song will surprise those who know the species only
when migrating. Si)eaking of a night passed in the Yukon delta, he says:
"As my eyelids began to dr(»op and the scene to become indistinct, suddenly
a low. hollow, booming note struck my ear. Again the sound arose nearer
and more distinct, and with an effort 1 brought myself back to the reality of
my position and, resting upon one elbow, listened. A few seconds passed and
again arose the note ; a moment later and, gun in hand, I stood outside the
tent. The open tlat extended away on all sides, with apparently not a livin"-
creature near. ( )nce again the note was repeated close l)y, and a glance
revealed its author. Standing in the thin grasses ten or fifteen yards from
me, with its throat inflated until it was as large as the rest of the bird, was a
male .i. maciilata. The note is deep, hollow, and resonant, but at the same
time liquid and musical, and may be represented by a repetition '■•' t'^^- sylla-
bles too-u, too-u. too-u. too-u. too-u, too-u, too-u, too-u."

White-Winged Scoter {Oidcmia dcrjiamU)

Range : Breeds from the coast of northeastern Siberia, northern Alaska,
:iorthern Mackenzie, and northern Ungava south to central British Columbia.
Alberta, northern North Dakota, and southern Quebec ; winters on the Asiatic
coast to Bering Island, Japan, and China, and in Xorth America from
I'nalaska Island to San Quintin Bay, Lower California, the Great Lakes, and
the Atlantic coast from the (iulf of St. Lawrence south (rarely) to Florida;
non-breeding birds occur in summer as far south as Rhode Island and Mon-
terey, California.

The general habits of this scoter correspond closely with those of its
relatives. It winters in great numbers in company with other roots on the
coasts of the New England and Middle States, and also along our west coast,
especially in Oregon and Washington. Scoters are denizens of the sea and
are almost as much at home there as the fish, crustaceans, and shell fish upon
which they feed. So large are some of the shell fish that have been found in
their stomachs that it is difficult to understand how the birds manage to
swallow them.

025

Bird Notes

By Clara Kern Bayliss

When the cradles are deserted and the young no longer need care, —
what? From the middle to the last of July the nests are rapidly closing out
and a strange silence falls upon birddom. For a time there is some chirping
of the young who still beg for food though they are as large as their parents ;
but the great jubilee of the springtime is hushed and the birds which were
so omnipresent seem to have vanished.

In the hot days of August almost the only bird notes heard are the
JVichify, ivichity, luichify, 7\.'ich of the Maryland Yellow-throat, the ]Vheche-
chcchee of the never-tiring Wren, and the noisy Thief! TJifcf! of the Jay
which strikes on our ears more disagreeably now that there are no other
sounds to engulf it. At the noontide there is the strident rasp of the Cicadae ;
but never a morning now are we awakened by the inspiring call of the
Meadowlark or the clear, ringing medley of the Brown Thrasher which in
the early days of spring made us glad to be alive.

As the silence deepens we begin to hear the IVJicc-liec of the Titmouse
and the lively See me and Per-chick-o-py of the 'Wild Canary" or Goldfinch.
Perhaps these calls have been with us all along, unheard in the general chorus,
as the flight-song of a single bee claims our attention in winter while that of
a whole hive passes unnoted in summer.

But although so cjuiet, the birds have not yet gone. They have hidden
away to change their clothing. Some day you may see a Brown Thrasher
drop out of a tree and steal in and out along the rose hedge searching for
food and trying to keep out of sight. (Are birds really vain of their looks?)
No wonder that he doesn't want to be seen, for he is not the sleep creature of
earlier days, but a forlorn, ragged tramp who would tell you very meekly
that "he doesn't feel able to work." Or perhaps you find him among the
1)rush of a sheltered hollow where the winds of heaven may not fan him too
roughly in his semi-nudity. And he will not fly up, nor utter his saucy Quirt,
nor do anything but hop weakly from twig to twig of the low tangle and
make a faint, wheezy sound in his throat. And you say, "Can it l)e that this
's the same creature which the farmers call the Planting Bird, because when
they planted their corn he perched audaciously on the topmost bough and
sang in imperative tones. J^rop it! Drop it! Pick it up! Pick it up! Come here!
Come here! Cover it up! Vll pull it up!

All birds moult in the fall. Goldfinches and Tanagers moult the body
feathers again in the spring. Bobolinks, Tanagers, Goldfinches, Bay-breasted,
Redpoll, and Myrtle Warblers wear the dull colors of the female until the
pre-nuptial moult. Orchard Orioles and Redstarts breed the first year with-
out acquiring adult plumage, which does not come to some birds until the

926

third yc;ir. I he chaiij^i- oi color in lh(j>e who do not moult in spriu;; is due
to the brcakiu^ olT or wrarinj^ oft of the feather ends where they are saw-
toothed to the main feather; (jr to a real chan;^e of color hy fading which
begins at the outer edges ant! gradually extends in toward the (|uill.

Some morning in the early i>art of September you may see your hrown
Thrasher in his new coat preening himself on a dead limb of a pear tree. —
and dead liml).s are convenient things to have for bird study, fie takes a long
time for his toilet, spending a half hour in getting the new feathers arranged
to suit him; and when it is done he makes crazy flights into the air and back
to see if he can fly as well as in the old suit.

.\ few days later if you go about cautiously, you may hear a low (Jiiirt,
Quirt, in the little cherry tree. It is not the defiant note of the summer when
you ventured near his haunts, but a low sound as if he were speaking to himself.
And presently you may hear a strange thing: a Thrasher's whole song, note
for note, whispered sotto voce, with bill closed, as if he didn't want any
one, — not even his nearest and dearest, — to hear him. I ie is trying to find out
if his voice as well as his plumage has come back to him. It makes y<ju feel
queer to witness this private rehearsal. When you sj)ied upon his young in
the nest you never felt so much like a conscienceless intruder: and yet yoii
are glad to the marrow to have heard and seen it.

.\nd that is about the last you will see of him until he returns to yt)U in
the spring. Hut where will he and the other birds si)end the winter." And
v.hat will become of the Bronze Grackle with the leg broken and standing at
right angles to his body? He can fly and can jicrch ; but will he be able to
keep up in that tiresome journey of the multitudes?

Manv of the birds slip away unnoticed; but everyone observes the migra-
tion of the Canadian Cicesc because they fly low and keep up a loud honking,
and because the sharply defined form of the flock impresses itself on your
mind. The farmer says they shape themselves into a "drag" as they follow
the patriarch of the flock ; and their lines are as straight as those of soldiers
on parade. Once only, have we known them to break ranks in disorder, and
that was one night wdicn they were terrified and confused by an oncoming
storm which flashed blinding lightnings in their i)atli whichexer way they
wheeled.

In our childhood an(»ther migration forced itself upon the attention of
all. Every autumn the skies were darkened and the newly sown wdieat fields
were covered by immense flocks of wild Pigeons; but that spectacle is a thing
of the past and no one seems to know w hat has become of the Pigeons.

927

Surf Scoter {Oidemia perspicillata)
Range: Breeds on the Pacific coast from Kotzebne Sound to Sitka, and
from northwestern Mackenzie and Hudson Strait to Great Slave Lake, cen-
tral Keewatin, and northern Quebec; winters on the Pacific coast from Aleu-
tian Islands south to San Ouintin Bay, Lower California, and on the Great
Lakes.

The surf duck is possibly the most abundant of the three species of
scoter ducks, and in fall and winter it visits the northern parts of the United
States on both coasts in great numbers. Tt appears off the coast of Massa-
chusetts early in September. Some idea of the vast numbers of these birds
may be gained from the observations of Nelson who, late in the breeding sea-
son of 1878, saw near Stewart Island, Alaska, a continuous raft of them about
ten miles long and from a half to three-fourths of a mile in width. All these
appeared to be males and therefore represented only half of the birds of this
species breeding in the locality. The surf scoter is a powerful swimmer and a
superb diver and is almost as much at home in the surf as a fish. It lives on
various kinds of shellfish, chiefly mussels. Naturally, having no means of
breaking open the bivalves, it has to swallow them whole, and such are the
bird's powers of digestion that it has no difficulty in disposing of the thick-
shells.

Sanderling (Calidris leucopkaca)
Range: Breeds from Melville Island, Ellesmere Land, and northern
Greenland to Point Barrow, Alaska, northern Mackenzie, Iceland, and in
northern Siberia; winters from central California, Texas, A^irginia, and Ber-
muda to Patagonia.

The sanderling breeds on the far-away Arctic coast, and in early fall be-
gins its wanderings southward. These take it much over the known world.
Even the Hawaiian Islands, in mid-ocean, more than 2,000 miles distant from
the bird's nearest breeding grounds, are not too remote to attract it, though
it is never numerous there. The sanderling is well named "beach bird," for
sandy beaches are its favorite places of resort. No prettier sight can be imag-
ined than a flock of these little white birds when l)usily engaged hunting for
food. As the foam-topped breakers rush up the l)each, and retreat to gather
force for another dash, they plough up the sand, and expose for a few brief
seconds multitudes of sand fleas and minute shell fish. These jre the chosen
food of the sanderlings, and to gather their harvest they keep pace with the
progress of the waves, now advancing, now retreating, ever ready to snatch
any hapless creature less nimble than they. Sanderlings fly in small com-
panies, and often a few individuals mingle with flocks of larger species. Though
naturally so tame and unsuspicious as hardly to recognize the ]")resence of
man, they associate in such small numbers that they are not greatly exposed.

928

The \\ hitc-Eyed Vireo

Uy Juliii James Audubun

This iiiUTcstii)g little bird enters the Slate of Louisiana often as early as
the first of March. Indeed, some individuals may now and then be seen a week
or ten days sooner provided the weather be mild. It throws itself into the
thickest part of the briars, sumachs and small evergreen bushes, which form
detached groves in abandoned fields, where its presence is at once known by
the smartness of its song. This song is composed of many difTerent notes emit-
ted with great spirit and a certain degree of pomposity, which makes it differ
materially from that of all other Vireos. It is frequently repeated during
the day.

These birds become at once so abundant that it would be more ditlficult not
to meet one than to observe a dozen or more during a morning walk. Their
motions are as animated as their music. They pass from twig to twig, upward
or downward, examining every opening bud and leaf, and securing an adult
insect or a larva at every leap. Their flight is short, light and easy.

Their migrations are performed during the day, and by passing from one
low bush to another. Like all our other visitors they move eatsward as the
season opens, and do not reach the middle States before the end of April or
the beginning of May. Notwithstanding this apparently slow progress, they
reach and disperse over a vast expanse of country. I have met with some in
every part of the United States which I have visited.

Many remain in Louisiana, where they rear two broods, perhaps sometimes
three, in a season. Of this, however, I am not quite certain. I never saw them
alight on the ground, unless for the purpose of drinking or of procuring fibrous
roots for their nests. They are fond of sipping the dewdrops that hang at the
extremities of leaves- Their sorties after insects seldom extend beyond the
bushes.

About the first of April the White-eyed \'ireo forms a nest of dry slender
twigs, broken pieces of grasses and portions of old hornets' nests, which have
so great a resemblance to paper that the nest appears as if studded with bits of
that substance. It is lined with fine fibrous roots and the dried filaments of the
Spanish moss. The nest is cup-shaped and pensile, and is fastened to two or
three twigs, or to a loop of a vine. The eggs are from four to five, of a pure
white, with a few dark spots near the larger end. In those districts where the
Cowbird is found it frequently drops one of its eggs among them.

I have seen the first brood from the nest about the middle of May. Unless
disturbed while upon its nest, this bird is extremely sociable, and may be ap-
proached within a few feet, but when startled from the nest it displays the
anxiety common to all birds on such occasions. The difference of color in the
sexes is scarcely perceptible.

The White-eyed Vireo is found through a large part of the United States^

929

ranging from the Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic Ocean in one direction and
from southern New England and Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico in the other.
In winter it extends beyond our southern borders into Guatemala and Honduras.

The Tufted Titmouse {Baeoiopkus bkoior)

By W. W. Woollen

The subfamily Parinse, of which the tufted titmouse is a member, contains
about seventy-five species. Of these thirteen belong to North America. The
range of the tufted titmouse extends throughout the eastern United States, north
to the Connecticut valley and southern Michigan and west to central Nebraska
and Texas. Comparatively few of them are found in New England, and this
perhaps accounts for the fact that not much has been written about them in the
•east- In some of the books no mention is made of them. They are irregular
migrants. Most of them remain throughout the year when they have taken up
their abode. They mate in April and May and breed until midsummer. They
nest in woodpecker and knot holes and other cavities, generally five to thirty feet
from the ground.

Some of the names of the tufted titmouse are crested titmouse, crested tom-
tit, Peter-peter, and sugar bird. The adult male and female are alike in size,
contour, color and appearance. Both have conspicuous crests and a bill which is
black ; tongue very short, truncate and ending with three or four sharp points ;
eye dark hazel ; lores white ; gray above, whitish below with sides of reddish
brown; wing feathers relieved with dusky on their inner vanes ; tail a little forked,
considerably concave below, and of the same color as the back.

Their food consists entirely of insects, their eggs and larvae, and for this
reason they are of our most useful birds. At Somerleaze they have shown them-
selves to be very busy workers in our orchard and I have been much interested in
watching them going over our elms for insects and worms on the leaves. In
doing this they catch a limb with their feet and swing with their heads downward,
so as to be able to inspect the under side of the leaves. One Sunday afternoon
in 1900 a pair of them brought their young ones to the trees on our front lawn
and this gave me an excellent opportunity to observe them from the veranda with
a glass. The young ones seemed larger than their parents, and such voracious
appetites as they did have ! The parents worked faithfully all that afternoon,
and did nothing but feed their hungry progeny. One of the trees was the very
large wild cherry and in it was a nest of tent caterpillars. The titmice discovered
it, attacked it, and destroyed every caterpillar in it. It was interesting to watch
them do it. They would fly to the nest, catch a caterpillar and fly with it to a
limb close by, mascerate it, and then fly to one of their young and give the cater-
pillar to it. During that afternoon I think they went over every tree on the

930

2S3

TUFTED TITMOUSE.

( Parus bicolor).
About Lifesiire.

CO^VRIGMT HOO, Br

rORD. CMlf«r,0

lawn, aiul there were- many <>t tlu-ni, huntiii}^ for insects and worms for tlieir
yoimg ones.

Mr. I'.askett, in "Tlu" Story of the Birds," says that "In the old days when
smokehouses of the rural ret^ions were of logs unchinke<l, these little fellows dug
into the hams and middlings, and the crested tit is especially known as the 'meat
eater' among some of the southern folk." In the country, at my father's log
.cabin home, was one of those unchinked log smokehouses, and how well do I
remember when the cold winter days came how the titmice would visit it- And
this is suggestive. Now that the old smokehouses have disappeared, why not put
out some scraps of meat for the birds in winter, whcTi the insects an<l worms are
scarce and hard to find?

One who has not been reared in the country and has not enjoyed the many
pleasures of sugar making, is without some of the things which help to make the
after memories of life most delightful. It is in sugar making time that every-
thing is opening into new life. Spring is getting ready to put on the green that
makes May and June the most delightful months of the year. .Vs to this conclu-
sion, some may difTer with me, giving the preference to September and October.
To me the one speaks of fresh life and budding youth ; the other of old age, decay
and death. It is in spring, in the language of the Psalmist, that we have "showers
that water the earth." And who has not enjoyed these showers? It is at this
time that the drops of water falling into the pools and rivulets make air globules
like halves of soap bubbles, and our shadows are reflected mirror-like in the water.
It is at this time of the year that the drying leaves rustle as we walk through them
gathering the sugar water. And how delightful the memory of the neighborhood
parties at night about the furnace of the sugar camp from which the stirring off
was being made for the wax pulling that was to follow. It is in sugar making
time that we as children go hunting for that delicious bulbous edible, the turkey
pea or pepper and salt. Among the plants it is the pretty little harbinger of
spring. It is in sugar making time that the tufted titmouse is in full song. It is
then, as Mr. Baskett tells us, that his song "is that sugary sap-rising call to 'I'eter-
peter-peter' to get out his spiles and water troughs." It is then that their clear,
loud whistle of "peto-peto-peto" may be heard at Buzzard's Roost, for we have
many of them there.

These delightful birds are very inquisitive and sociable. They rather enjoy
the company of man. At Somerleaze an elm tree stands so close to the house that
the limbs almost overhang the back porch. Here I have frequently sat in the
afternoon and whistled to the titmice to come- They would be over in our
orchard, and hearing my whistle, would come in answer to it. getting as near to
me as the closest limbs would permit, and look inquiringly at me, as much as to say,
"Here we are, what do you want with us?'' And then I wished that I could tell
them that I wanted their companionship. I sometimes feel that it is a hardship
that all animal life cannot communicate with each other. \\'ould there not be
less wrong inflicted then? Would a man kill a bird if it could say, "Sir, will you
not spare my life? Have I done you any wrong? Have T not been your
friend?"

931

The Dove Not a Peace Bird

Doves, according to popular tradition, are the last things in the world to
•connect with war. Doves and pigeons are, or were, pacifists of the most viru-
lent type. Another cherished yarn has to go by the wall, for an authority says
that "five minutes in a pigeon-cote . . . will result in a lifetime of wonder-
ing why the idealized bird was chosen as an emblem of peace, for this stout-
hearted little bird, once called the "dove of peace," is now known and cherished
as "the war-pigeon."

There "being nothing new under the sun," one is not surprised to find that
the ancient Egyptians and Persians used pigeons, just as to-day, as messengers
in war-time. Then from the Orient to Holland and Belgium and Merrie England
came the birds, the ancestors of the pigeons that have played so important a
part in driving the Huns to their lairs.

It brings the subject close home to us when we remember that in the Pigeon
Division of the Signal Corps Louis Wahl and William Smead, of the New York
"Zoo," are in charge and that Corp. Donald Carter, once in the Gardens, is in
active service in France, among "the doves."

Mr. Lee S. Crandall, in The Zoological Society Bulletin (New York), has
interesting things to say about the birds. After speaking of Smerles, "Owls,"
Dragoons, Horsemen, Skinnums, Cumulets, etc., he proceeds:

From this seeming chaos, after many vicissitudes, the racing homer, un-
equaled in speed, endurance, and intelligence, finally was evolved. These three
characters have remained the great objectives of the breeder, and color mark-
ings, and other points commonly sought among dometsic pigeons have been
ignored. Many derivatives, bred for exhibition points only, have risen to popu-
larity, but the racer, not always uniform in type and color, though never failing
in courage and love of home, still remains the pigeon of pigeons.

Having proved its value as a flier in Belgium, the newly evolved breed was
quickly imported into England, and later was brought to America. The sport
of pigeon-racing soon became popularized, and its devotees now number thou-
sands. In America hundreds of races are flown yearly, under the auspices of
local clubs and the larger national organizations with which they are affiliated.
With the overrunning of Belgium by the German hordes of pickers and stealers,
the great majority of the famous studs of racing pigeons were seized and sent
to Germany. However, the blood of these great strains is widely spread and
strongly cherished in England and in America, so that they will not become
lost to civilization.

Through a confusion of names, which has become wide-spread, the homing
pigeon is almost invariably referred to in news reports as the "carrier." He is
a carrier so far as service performed is concerned, but, unfortunately, that name
was long ago preempted by an entirely different bird, closely related to the
Dragoon and Horseman, and known as the English Carrier. This pigeon, while

932

perhaps ori^Miially used for Hying, now is useless for that purpose and is kept
for exhiljition only. It is a large bird, with extremely long neck and legs, and
carries a Inige mass of flesh about the eyes and on the beak. This misuse of
names has caused much of the credit due the true homer to be given a pigeon
which would not home from a distance of a mile.

Many misunderstandings have arisen as to the homing abilities of the war-
pigeon. Many persons apjx^ar to believe that it is merely necessary to whisper
a few directions in the bird's ear, toss it into the air, and watch it strike out for
the destination indicated. Other fancies, still wider of the truth, are numerous.
There is nothing supernatural about the homer. It simply has a strongly devel-
oped love of home, a wonderful sense of direction, and the strength and courage
to return to its loft when released at a distance.

Sense of direction is strongly developed in most birds. We have only to
consider the marvelous migration flights of many species to realize that this is
true. In domestic pigeons this sense, doubtless native to the wild rock-dove,
from which they are descended, has degenerated through countless generations
of life in captivity. Only in the homer has it been retained and magnified by
long-continued breeding and selection for this point alone.

All sorts of theories have been advanced as to how a homer finds its way,
extraordinary sight, electrical influences, and so on, and so on. It would seem,
however, that it is simply that mysterious sense direction, common to all birds,
strengthened and developed by "the intensive training to which the young homer
is subjected," One important part of this is, that, from the very first, the bird
learns well its home surroundings. To continue:

When free flying is begun, four hundred miles is the greatest distance birds
of the year usually are asked to accomplish, but exceptional youngsters occa-
sionally have done six hundred. Five hundred miles is the most popular long-
distance race for old birds, but contests up to 1,000 miles are flown yearly.
Eight hundred miles were accomplished in one day by a famous bird, but dis-
tances over five hundred miles usually require more than a single day.

The speed at which homing pigeons fly is one of the first questions that
comes to the mind of the inquiring layman. This varies greatly with the distance.
the shorter distances naturally being flown in much faster time. Flights of one
hundred miles with a favoring wind, often are made at the rate of a mile a
minute, or even better. Recent tests under the supervision of the Signal Corps
showed that held messages sent by means of homing pigeons were delivered in
much shorter time than by automobile or motorcycle.

The longest oflicial distance flown by a homing pigeon was a flight from
Denver, Colorado, to Springfield, Massachusetts. 1,689 miles. A little more than
twenty-three days were required for this feat, the bird flying only by day,
gleaning its food from fields and poultry yards as it came.

The fastest time for 1.000 miles is one day and eleven hours, a truly remark-
able performance. This bird, rejoicing in the name of "Bullet," still lives in

933

Fort Wayne, Indiana. It is a satisfaction to know that both these world's cham-
pions were produced in America, giving assurances that the heritage of the
now scattered lofts of Belgium has not been neglected in this country. Grand-
children of both these famous birds are included in the flock recently installed
in the New York Zoological Park. Others of almost equally illustrious descent
complete the new exhibit, which is proving of great interest to our visitors. —
Literary Digest.

The Fulvous Tree -Duck (Dendrocygna hicolor)

By I. N. Mitchell

The Tree-ducks are natives of tropical or semi-tropical countries. Two
species are found in the United States, the bird of our illustration and the Black-
bellied Tree-duck. The range of the fulvous species extends from the southern
border of the United States, and in Nevada and California, southward through
Mexico, and reappears in the southern portion of Brazil and in the Argentine
Republic. It has also been reported as a visitor to the States of North Carolina
and Missouri.

Mr. Frank M. Woodrufi^, in speaking of his experience while on a collecting
tour in Texas, says : "I found the Fulvous Tree-duck in small numbers resident
on Galveston Island, but found them abundant and nesting in the heavy timber
along the Brazos River, sixty miles from Galveston. In the early morning, as
we would leave our boat and make our way to our blinds, on some small inland
pond where we had prepared for collecting, we would flush immense flocks of
this duck, which would fly over our heads at rather a low altitude, and continuously
calling. On several occasions we obtained specimens by firing into a flock while
it was still so dark that we could scarcely define the outlines of the individual
birds. The fulvous tree-duck generally feeds in the night, and usually at a place
several miles from the nesting site. They leave the feeding grounds on the first
sign of approaching day- During my stay of three months in the Brazos River
region, only on one or two occasions did I have an opportunity to observe this
bird by the light of day. In form it resembles a miniature swan. It stands very
high on its legs and presents a wonderfully curious and graceful appearance as
it walks along the shore, feeding on shellfish and decaying matter.

"Owing to the nature of its diet, which consists chiefly of grain, roots, and
water plants, the flesh of this bird is esteemed as an article of food, and many are
killed for such.

"Nest: Located in the hollow of a tree, the bottom of the cavity usually
being lined with feathers. They lay from ten to fifteen pure white eggs, and as
many as thirty-two have been found in one nest, but these were probably laid by
two or more females."

934

FULVOUS TREE-DUCK.

iDendrocygna fulva )

Nearly ,'i Life-size-

copym&MT 1900. Br

» VUMFORS, CHIC'-.'.

Valley Qliail {/^ophortyx califontica calif uniica)

Range. — I'acific coast rcgicjii trum ^oiitlnvc^tirii ( )regoii south to Monterey
County, California; introduced mU) X'ancouver Island, Washington, and Colo-
rado.

The two f(jrnis of (|uail inhabiting the coast and valley regi<jns of Oregon
and California, though differing enough in i)lumage to constitute races, are very
similar in habits- As its name imj)lies, the bird prefers valleys to movnitains,
although it may range ui)\vard as high as four thousand feet, at about which
point it meets the habitat of its larger relative, the mountain quail. The valley
quail is widely distributed, and being very i)rolitic, it is, or was, exceedingly
abundant over most of its range. ICastern sportsmen, knowing only our Bob-
white, would find it dithcult U) credit tales that might be told of the numbers
of valley qiiail that formerly congregated in favorable localities. Flocks of over
two hundred were common enough, but in the late seventies and eighties I have
occasionally seen several thousand assembled together near water. When flushed,
successive bands of hundreds rose simultaneously with an extraordinary whir
of wings, and the air was filled with their flying forms- Such sights are of the
past, although the valley quail is still numerous in many regions. It is on good
terms with civilization and is prone to frequent cultivated tracts, especially vine-
yards and gardens, even on the outskirts of populous towns. Its fondness for
grapes does not endear it to the vine grower, and he often has to resort to
extreme measures to protect the bunches of ripe fruit which probably furnish
the quail not with food but with water, for this quail discovered the virtues of
grape juice long before it was put on the market.

Baby Birds

By Archibald Rutledge, Jr.

TF.X VF..\RS OI'" AGE

Baby birds are in the nest.
In the cast and in the west ;
Now the sun is going down
In her red and yellow gown.

When morning breaks with rosy light,
So very different from the night ;
When clouds are sailing overhead,
.\nd when the baby birds are fed,

The mother bird begins to try
To teach the little birds to fly.
And then at last they fly away.
They venture further every day

935

Notes on the Lyre Bird (Menura vktoriae)
By A. E. Kitson

The \'ictoria lyre birds are restricted to the densely timbered, moist, hilly,,
and mountainous parts of eastern Victoria, for they must have abundance of
moisture, and food consisting of insects, grubs, worms, etc. The jMelbourne to
Sydney railway may be taken as the approximate western limit of these birds.
They have not been found to the west of that line, nor even nearly up to it in
many parts. The reason apparently is that no densely timbered and scrubby
humid ranges, with permanent creeks in them, occur to the west of this line on
the northern side of the main divide, for neither Putter's Range nor the Mokoan
Range near Benalla possesses these characteristics- The main divide itself,
where the railway crosses it at Kilmore Junction, at an altitude of 1-,145 feet, is
rather low, and is not — apparently never was — densely scrubbed. Again, although
eminently suitable country for these birds is comprised by the Macedon Ranges
and those in the Blackwood district, near and on the main divide, also by the
Otway Ranges, no lyre birds are found there. In the case of the last, the reason
is undoubtedly its isolation. It is completely cut ofif from the other hilly and
mountainous districts of Victoria by the great volcanic plains of the western dis-
trict, which would form an effectual barrier to the dispersion of the lyre bird
southward, even if it were present on the main divide to the north. The bird is
so shy that, unless abundant cover be quite close at hand, it will not, under ordi-
nary circumstances, venture into the open forest country, much less cross wide
tracts devoid of arboreal vegetation. It is not so obvious why the lyre bird is not
present in the thickly timbered and scrubby country of the Macedon Ranges, but
apparently this also is due to its comparative isolation. On the east it is separated
by a wide dissected volcanic plain, forming a natural barrier. The only prac-
ticable bridge of dispersion exists in the main divide itself, which from Wandong^
on the railway takes a general northwesterly course- to Mount William, thence
southwesterly and southerly to Mount Macedon. About Mount William itself
there was, in its original state, a small area which might have been suitable for lyre
birds, but on the portions between Wandong and Macedon the want of sufficient
moisture and scrub is perhaps the reason of their absence. The birds seem to
have spread over southeastern Australia from New Guinea by following through
Queensland and New South Wales the mountains that form the watershed
between the Darling-Murrumbidgee basin and the Pacific Ocean ; and this within
comparatively recent time, considered from a geological point of view.

It is a matter for wonder that in suitable country lyre birds have existed in
such numbers as they have done. The native carnivorous fauna destructive to-
them comprise the dingo or wild dog (Canis dingo), the "tiger cat" (Dasyurus
rnaciilatus), and the "native cat" {D. vivcrrinns). These animals, especially the
first two — which are much less numerous than the "native cats" — frequent lyre-
bird country. These birds build their nests in spots usually accessible to dingoes,.

936

lii».3

LVKE BIKU.
I Life-si/e.

and lasily so U) the clinihiiijj "cats." They have ahnost invariably only one young
one a year, and yet in most of Gippsland and the northeastern district lyre birds
exist in much greater numbers than many of the other larger birds which nest in
much less dangerous situations, such as the gray magpie, king lory, wonga-wonga,
and bronze-winged pigeons, laughing jackass, and black cockatoo. The lyre bird
is a day bird anil roosts in trees at night, so except at nesting time it is jiractically
safe from attack. It is a strong, active bird, and couM, even if attacked by a "cat"
in a tree, either free itself or drag the "cat" to the ground in its first struggle. But
it is comparatively helpless when in the nest, and certainly the young are com-
pletely so. One fact, however, aids in its protection- The nest is usually not
easily seen, especially if the female bird is insitle with her tail raised over her
head, as is her wont, thus nearly filling up the entrance and breaking the noticeable
black cavity of the empty nest.

Near the source of the King River I have seen the birds going to roost in tall
green trees. They can not fly upward like an ordinary bird, but rather partially
jump upward in a slanting direction with their outspread wings aiding them by
soaring, not flapping. To get into these tall young trees, ranging up to nearly 100
feet in height, they went up by stages, taking advantage of short and long tree
ferns and the branches of smaller trees.

But the days of the lyre bird are numbered unless it develops the habit of
nesting in trees or spots inaccessible to its far more dangerous enemy, an intro-
duced one, the European fox. Scattered feathers and occasional feet are fre-
quently met with in some parts of the country and attest the depredations of the
fox, which has now spread over nearly the whole, if not the whole, of the State,
and has moreover, developed the faculty of ascending slightly leaning trees.

.\s regards South Gippsland the lyre bird is doomed to extinction, and that
by- the agency of man. The mass of hilly country between the valleys of the
Latrobe on the north ; the Tarago, Lang Lang, and the Bass on the west ; the
Powlett and Tarwin and the narrow strip between Foster and Merriman Creek
on the south and southeast, was a large tract, covered with an extremely dense
vegetation and in a continuously moist or wet state before settlement took place.
It was united to the main mass of the mountain system of eastern Victoria by a
narrow elevated tract of volcanic and similarly timbered country between Warra-
gul and Longwarry. In every gully and on every spur the lovely notes of the lyre
bird could be heard, and evidence of its occupation could be seen on every hand.
Thousands of these birds must have sported about this country, making the other-
wise rather silent forest a huge natural concert hall. Now, alas, the march of
settlement, w^ith its breechloaders, forest spoliation, and bush hres, has brought
about a sad change from a naturalist's point of view. With the disappearance of
the scrub goes the lyre bird, and as the country gets cleared from various sides,
so patches only of scrubby country are left. These become the temporary home
of such of the outcasts as have escaped the gun, the clearing, and the fire, till they,
in their turn, become felled and burnt, when the lyre birds disappear.

93;

The Yellow-Headed Blackbird

(Xanfhoccphalus xanthocephalus)

By W. Leon Dawson

Description. — Adult male: Head, neck all around, and breast orange yel-
low ; lores and feathers skirting eyes and bill, black ; a double white patch on
folded wing formed by greater and lesser coverts, but interrupted by black of
bastard wing ; usually a little yellow about vent and on tibiae ; the remaining
plumage black, dull or subdued, and turning brown on wing-tips and tail. Female:
Dark brown; line over eye, throat, and upper breast dull yellow. Length 10.00-
11.00 (254.-279.4); wing 5.30-5.60 (134.6-142.2); tail 4.00-4.50 (101.6-114.3);
bill .90 (22.); tarsus 1.25 (31.8). Female smaller, length 8.00-9.50 (203.2-
241.3).

Recognition Marks- — Robin size ; yellow head and breast.

''Nest, a light but large, thick-brimmed fabric of dried reeds and grasses slung
to growing ones, 5-6 inches in diameter and about as deep. Eggs, 3-6, 1.00-1.15
(25.4-29.2) long by 0.75 (19.1) broad; grayish-green, spotted as in Scolecophagus,
with reddish-brown, not scrawled as in Agclahis" (Coues).

General Range. — Western North America from Wisconsin, Illinois and
Texas to the Pacific Coast, and from British Columbia and the Saskatchewan
River southward to the Valley of Mexico. Accidental in Middle and Atlantic
States.

This Blackbird is essentially a bird of the Prairies, and it is eminently fitted
for obtaining its living on the ground, since its legs and feet are strongly devel-
oped as if by and for scratching. Large numbers spend the winter sociably in
the tule swamps of Texas* and California, breaking up into smaller companies
after the migration has been accomplished, and distributing themselves among
the inland marshes of the Great Plains, and locally throughout the West, where
they breed much after the fashion of Redwings. The species is of a rather roving
disposition, one specimen having been taken in Greenland in 1820. Small bunches
have several times been recognized on the wing by competent observers here in
Ohio, and Wheaton cites the. instance of a pair being seen in a low meadow near
Groveport, in Franklin County, where it was thought to have bred, in the summer
of 1873.

938

299

VELLOW-HEADED BLACK BIRD.

=^ Life-size.

COPVRIOMT l»00. BV A,

UMFORD CHICAGO

Scaled Qliail U (///'>f/>/(7 squamata SijKuiiuiUi )

Range. — From central Arizona to western I'exas, north to southern Colo-
rado and over most of the I'anhandk- of Texas, east nearly to central Texas,
and south to the Valley of Mexico.

The cottontop, as the scaled (|uail has been dubbed from its conspicuous
whitish crest, has a restricted range in the United States along our southern
border. The country it frequents is dry and barren, and chaparral and mesquite
form its favorite cover. On account of the dry nature of quails' food they are
greatly dependent upon water, and hence the presence of large numbers of
cottontops may be taken as a i)retty sure indication that a stream or watcrhole
is not far away. Western (|uail of whatever species have learned to trust to their
legs rather than their wings to carry them out of harm's way, and the cottontop
forms no exception to the rule. When alarmed, a bevy will scatter hither and
yon among the rocks or brush, to come together again when the supposed danger
is past. When hard pressed it is an adept at close hiding. The bluish gray
plumage of the cottontop harmonizes well with its usual surroundings and no
Joubt the confidence the bird reposes in its protective coloration is justified by
long experience. Protected by the remoteness of its desert home this quail
should long survive the fate of some of its less fortunate relatives, though the
automobile, with its power to annihilate distance, is a new danger which it has
yet to meet.

The habits of the chestnut-bellied scaled quail arc so similar to those of ihe
present species as not to call for separate mention. The bird ranges from the
lower Rio Grande X'alley in Texas to Coahuila and Xuevo Leon, Mexico.

939

Marbled Godwit (Umosa fedoa)

By Howard Jones

Synonym. — Brown Marlin.

Description. — Adult: General color pale cinnamon or ochraceous-buff ; the
head and neck all around streaked and spotted with brownish dusky ; the back, etc.,
heavily and irregularly barred with the same — a typical feather from the scapulars
has a broad dusky center shaped like a dandelion leaf, the complementary spaces
being ochraceous-buff, or irregularly white ; the primary coverts, and outer webs
of three outer primaries brownish dusky; the breast (especially on sides), the
sides, flanks and lower tail-coverts, with fine wavy bars of dusky; the superciliary
line and throat immaculate ; the axillars and lining of wings darker — say pale
cinnamon-rufous; bill, slightly upturned, yellow at base, blackening toward tip;
V^ feet and legs blackish. Immature: Similar to adult, but immaculate on breast;
sides and flanks less distinctly and extensively barred. Length 16.50-21.00 (419.1-
533.4) ; wing 9.15 (232.4) ; tail 3.13 (79.5) ; bill 4.28 (108.7) ; tarsus 2.74 (69.6).

Recognition Marks. — Crow size ; large size ; long, slightly upturned bill ; pale
cinnamon coloration ; "marbled" appearance of upper parts.

'Nesting. — Nest, on the ground. Eggs, 3 or 4, light olive-brown, finely speckled
and spotted with dark brown and purplish gray. Av. size, 2.18 x 1.64 (55.4x41.7).

General Range. — North America, breeding in the interior (from Iowa and
Nebi^ska northward to Manitoba and the Saskatchewan), Migrating in winter
to Guatemala, Yucatan, etc., and Cuba.

This good wight has wit enough at least to avoid our coasts of late; and
Professor Jones in his recent catalog is able to add nothing to Dr. Wheaton's
records. The bird cannot be blamed exactly, since one of the last records was
of thirty-three, which were "shot in one day, near the mouth of the Little Miami,
some years ago by , Esq."

According to Dr. Coues, the center of the bird's abundance in summer in-
cludes the northwestern prairie states and the region of the Saskatchewan. "It
breeds in Iowa," he says, "and in Minnesota and eastern Dakota, where I observed
it in June, and where the eggs have been procured. I found it on the plains
bordering the Red River, in company with Long-billed Curlews and great num-
bers of Bartramian Sandpipers, nesting like these species, on the prairie near the
river, and about the adjoining pools, but not necessarily by the water's edge. In
its habits at this season it most nearly resembles the Curlew, and the two species,
of much the same size and general appearance, might be readily mistaken at a
distance where the difference in the bill might not be perceived. On intrusion
near the nest, the birds mount in the air with loud piercing cries, hovering slowly
around with labored flight in evident distress, and approaching sometimes within
a few feet of the observer."

940

••Of*!

w d

The Prairie Hen {Tympanuclius amcyicanus)
By Amos Butler

Synonyms, — Prairie Chicken; Pinnated Grouse.

Description. — Adult male: Above dusky-brown to blackish, narrowly barred
and spotted with ociiraceuus-butT of several shades; crown blackish, less spotted
with biUT; an elongated tuft of feathers on each side of the neck, brownish-black,
the uppermost feathers rufous-and-bufl'y-strijicd on the inner webs; tips of
feathers rounded or truncated ; beneath the neck-tufts a bare space of orange-
colored skin, largely concealed at rest; wing-quills, light fuscous, spotted with
whitish or ochraceous-butT on external webs; tail, rounded, fuscous, blackening
toward the tip, the central feathers narrowly white-tipped ; chin, throat, and sides
of head, buffy or ochraceous with a blackish malar stripe and an obscure spot of
same color on side of throat; remaining under parts evenly barred with light
grayish-brown and white, tinged more or less with ochraceous on sides and some-
times on breast; nearly unmarked on lower belly and crissum; tarsi fully
feathered, plain ochraceous. .Idiilt female: Similar, but neck-tufts smaller and
shorter; tail regularly and narrowly barred with ochraceous-bufT or tawny. Ivt-
maturc: Brownish above, with medial white streaks and heavy blotches of black;
chest, brownish-tinged and spotted rather than barred. Measurements of six
Monroeville Prairie specimens in O. S. U. museum. — Two males : length 18.25
(463.6) ; wing 9.25 (235.) ; tail 3.85 (97.8) ; bill from nostril .52 (13.2) ; neck-
tufts, 3.30 (83.8). Four females: length, 17.15 (435.6) ; wing, 8.32 (211.3) ; tail
3.50 (88.9) : bill from nostril .49 (12.5) ; neck-tufts 1.65 (41.9).

Recognition Marks. — Crow size ; general barred appearance ; elongated,
erectile tufts on side of neck ; distensible air-sacs distinctive.

Nest, on the ground in open fields or in the edges of swamps, lined with
grasses and feathers. Eggs, 8-15, usually about a dozen, dull buffy-drab or olive,
usually unmarked but sometimes speckled with brown. Average size, 1.70 x 1.27
(43.2x32.3).

General Range. — Prairies of the Mississippi Valley; south to Louisiana and
Texas, east to Kentucky, Indiana, Ohio, Michigan and Ontario, west through east-
ern portions of North Dakota, Indian Territory and intervening states, north to
Manitoba ; general tendency to extension of range westward, and contraction cast-
ward ; migration north and south in Minnesota, Iowa and Missouri.

The life histor>' of the Prairie Hen of Ohio will probably never be written ;
certainly not unless some one is at great pains to interview the older hunters of
the passing generation, and succeeds in piecing together scraps of information
which have lain long dormant in memory. Having become quite extinct within
twenty years, the bird was confined to a few restricted localities in the north-
central and north-western parts of the state for as many more, and it has been a
half century since it was common even in those regions. So far as known the
last survivors were seen during the early '80s in Erie and Huron counties. The
last record for Franklin County is that given by Dr. J. M. Wheaton ; November
16, 1878.

941

It is idle at this late date to bewail the loss of this noble game-bird. Its ways
were to a certain extent incompatible with those of civilization. Experience has
amply proven that the rural portion of a community will not stand the sole burden
of support of a grain-eating bird, which genteel sportsmen from the city are
allowed to slaughter at periodical seasons — and there is an end of discussion.
Apparently the only alternative lies in imported birds of various sorts (the tamer
the better), and in private game-preserves.

Fortunately the species under consideration has been fully studied in the
prairie states farther west, and the brief sketch which follows is based chiefly on
observations in Illinois and Iowa.

During the first days of April a mellow rolling boom comes over the prairies
in the early morning or late afternoon hours. If the birds are plentiful the soft
ook-ah-oom-hoo-hoo-oo-oo may sound from several scratching-grounds or
"walks" at once. In the corner of some large meadow or on some prairie knoll
a company of twenty or thirty cocks and hens are gathered, the former bustling
and bursting with excitement, the latter affecting utter indifference.

The cocks ruffle all their feathers, throw forward the erectile feather-tufts
of the neck, inflate the distensible air-sacs until they look like ripe oranges ; then
rush forward across the ball-room floor with lowered heads and scraping wings
while the air escapes in that tender, penetrating sob which reverberates a mile
away. As the show proceeds the ladies get interested, yield somewhat of their
frigid manner, and move about coyly among the strutting gallants. At the first
few dances only pleasant mutual acquaintance is promoted, but on subsequent
occasions, as attentions become more serious, conflicting interests are sure to be
developed among rival cocks, and fierce and bloody battles ensue. To the victor
belongs the choice of maidens, and that, too, on a generous scale. Of course,
under such circumstances conjugal fidelity is a thing unknown, and it becomes a
marvel that the females will pay daily visits to the scene of these disgraceful
scrimmages.

The female hides her nest in some grass tussock of the open prairie, or in a
deep, feather-lined depression at the edge of a swale, and sits closely upon ten or
a dozen eggs. When thoroughly frightened from her nest she is not likely to
return, or if she does, and finds the eggs handled, she will break them up in dis-
gust. Incubation is completed in from three to four weeks, and the little brood
is promptly led off to forage or hide at the behest of the wary and devoted
mother.

The flock follows its mother until nearly full grown. As fall comes on sev-
eral family troops are merged, and the company thus formed is joined by the
hitherto exiled males. Under the contingency of persecution by gunners the flock
scatters to right and left, each member rising in turn and making off rapidly with
a vocal rattle which adds to the excitement of whirring wings. The bird is capa-
ble of sustained flights of several miles, much of which is accomplished by stiff
downward sails of long duration. In the prairie states west of the Mississippi
the females and young-of-the-year retire several degrees south in winter, but the
hardier males usually endure the rigors of the season in the North.

942

W'hltC-Kyed \^rC() d'irco nozrboraccnsis)
I'.y j. A. Wlicalon

Description. — .Unit: Aboxc l)ii^,'lit <)li\f-|^ria'n. tlullcr on cervix; brighter
on forehead ami runii); wings aiul tail dusky, with bright edgings of olive-green;
two yellowish white bars forniet! by tij)s of middle and greater coverts; spurious
quill nearly half as long as second jjriniary ; second shorter than sixth; point of
wing formed by third, fourth and fifth; below white or sordid; sides and flanks
wasiied with bright yellow ; lores and a ring around eye bright yellow ; bill and
feet dark; iris white. — hazel in young. Sj)ecimens differ chiefly in the yellowness
or sordidness of under parts. Length 4.50-5.25 ( 114.3-133.3) ; wing 2.45 (62.2) ;
tail 1.92 (48.8) ; bill from nostril .28 (7.1).

Recognition .Marks. — Warbler size; yellow lores and eye-rings and yellow
sides; yelk)wish white wing-l)ars, as distinct from / '. gih'us, which it nearest
resembles in point of size ; white irises-

Xest, of usual \ ireo construction, susjjended from forked twigs, thrCe or
four feet high in underbrush or thickets. I'-gus, 3 or 4 white, dotted sparingly
with reddish brown or dark i)urple. Av. size, .76 x .56 ( 19.3 x 14.2 j.

General Range. — Eastern United States west to the Rocky Mountains,
north to southern New England and Minnesota ; south in winter from I'Morida to
Guatemala and Honduras. Breeds from Florida and the Cjulf States northward.

The manners of this "well-connected" bird have evidently suffered through
close association with that "prince of mountebanks," the Yellow-breasted Chat.
Like the larger mime the Vireo frequents brushy ravines and thickets at the
edge of the woods, where he prowls and pries and practices all the tricks of
the lightning change artist, and is ready at any time to join his voice in a volley
of abuse levelled at the chance intruder. If you are not apprised of his presence
by a sharp click heard in the depths of the thicket, the feathered farceur will
mount a nodding wand and throw the succession of vocal somersaults which he
calls his song. Tup to li'cc-o, chipiti burtuck, comes with surprising energy and
distinctness from so small a throat and you are ready to follow at once upon
the chase to which the wary bird invites you.

Mimicry is the White-eye's specialty. He follows it not only from a desire
to be tuneful Init from siiecr love of mischief. Once, in Lawrence County, we
heard a remarkable succession of sounds coming we knew not whence. The
ravine was full of birds and we surmised Chat and Catbird and Mockingbird,
until we came at last upon the center of attraction. .\ White-eyed X'ireo was
hopping to and fro upon a willow branch and singing vociferously while birds
of half a dozen other species were ranged about him giving rapt attention, —
among them a jealous Catbird, who listened with bill agape and drooping wings.
The Punchinello paused froni time to time to think up new coinbinations while
the audience shifted uneasily. Then he would break out with a new production,
a iuml)le of three or four phrases from different artists, an<l this he would repeat

943

over and over with slight modifications at intervals of four or five seconds.
The Chat note, a nasal aoun, was a favorite preface, but we recognized also
Towhee, Summer Tanager, Song Sparrow, Catbird, Carolina Wren, English
Sparrow, Wood Thrush, and Warbling Vireo, in the order named.

But while the bird is a good deal of a wag and something of a scold, we are
always ready to applaud his humor, and we may as readily condone his "nippy"
tongue when we remember that it is wielded in a good cause. The White-eyed
Vireo builds low, seldom above seven or eight feet from the ground, and it is
naturally anxious for the safety of its eggs or little ones. It is only when the
welfare of these is threatened that the bird becomes disagreeable and personal,
and not always then.

The nest shown in the near-by illustration was pointed out to me by a
friend, Mr. C. H. Morris of McConnelsville. The bird was on but she occupied
the center of a little bower which was guarded by a wall of drooping vines and
bristling blackberry stems. With fear and trembling I cut an entrance way,
removing the stems one by one, and glancing apprehensively at the sitting bird,
but she sat on, unmoved. Next, the camera was brought in and advanced by
slow stages toward the watchful bird. Many twigs required to be cut away,
and there was much flapping of camera-cloths, gesticulating of unmanageable
"legs," and clicking of shutters, but the white-eyed beauty sat nicely for her
portrait, — once, twice, thrice, until the strain became too great for her. Next
the nest and eggs were photographed, and after removing the Cowbird's egg
(which appears in the picture just above the nearer rim) the rest were left to
be gathered later in the day.

Returning some five hours later, the bird-man pressed eagerly into the copse,
intending to collect the set of eggs for a well-known museum. The bird was
on and happy now in a new-found confidence. Nearer — nearer — came the col-
lector. The bird sat on. Finally moved by some strange impulse the man
brought his face down close to hers, not above a foot away, and gazed wist-
fully, searchingly, into those trustful eyes. Then that old hard heart of mine
melted within me and I turned and fled.

The Surf Scoter {Oldemia perspicillata)
By Frank M. Woodruff

The Surf Scoter is also known by several other popular names, such as the
Surf Duck, the Surf or Sea Coot and, not infrequently, the Booby. The name
Velvet Duck, though more commonly applied to the white-winged scoter, is
also sometimes used to designate this species.

This Scoter is an American species and is only an accidental visitor to
European coasts. Its range includes the "coasts and larger inland waters of
northern North America; in winter, south to Florida, to the Ohio River and to
San Quentin Bay, Lower California."

944

Our illustration is that of a male bird. The female is a sooty brown,
silvery gray below ami with much white on the sides of the head.

Immense llocks of the younjj of this species winter on San Diego Bay,
California. Here the adult birds are of rather rare occurrence for they are able
to withstand the rigors of an arctic winter and stay far to the northward where
they are a common resident. In the vicinity of San Uiego there was about one
adult to every seventy-five or one hundred juvenile birds. The former may
be easily distinguished by their very striking velvety black plumage, the white
markings on the nape and forehead standing out in bold contrast. These white
markings remind one of the white bull's eye on a target. Because of this
striking color characteristic the Surf Scoter is frequently called the Target
Head by the California hunters.

They are wary birds and it is often necessary to make a long detour in
order to reach a spot near to a flock without attracting their attention, as they
ride the crest of the waves in a heavy surf. The younger birds will remain
in the surf so close to the shore that frequently they are cast high and dry upon
the beach- When this haiipens it is ver>' amusing to watch them awkwardly
scramble back and enter the water again. The older birds are usually much more
shy, remaining far out on the water where they congregate in pairs, though some-
times there may be six or eight together.

As the tides enter San Diego Bay they carry in the loose seaweeds in which
are entangled numerous dead starfish and other forms of marine life. These form
the principal food not only of the Scoters, but also of all the water fowls, such as
other species of ducks, the cormorant, the pelican and the beautiful California
gull.

The note of the Surf Scoter is to me the most pleasing of all the ducks. It is
a soft, mellow whistle ending in a cluck ! cluck !

Mr. Xelson states that the Surf Scoter appears in the vicinity of St. Michaels,
Alaska, about the middle of May and nests commonly in the marshes of the delta
of the Yukon river. It also nests in large numbers on the Atlantic coast from
Labrador northward.

Dr. Coues, speaking of these birds as he observed them in Labrador, says:
"Thov are tough birds and remarkably tenacious of life and require a heavy charge
to kill them. They are known as Bottle-nosed Coots, a name given in allusion to
the very peculiar shape and color of the bill.

Its nest, usually placed on grassy knolls, in fresh-water marshes near the
sea, is made of dried weeds and grasses and lined with the down of the bird. It
is evident that the female performs all the duties of incubating the eggs and carry-
ing for the young, for during the nesting period large flocks are observable that
consist entirely of males, constantly feeding in their accustomed haunts.

This ocean duck feeds "on small mollusks and fishes, for which it dives al-
most constantly, both in the sandy bays and amidst the tumbling surf, sometimes
fishing at the depth of several fathoms and floating buoyantly among the surf of
the rao-ino- billows, where it seems as unconcerned as if it were on the most tran-
quil waters."

945

Black-Throated Green Warbler {Dendroka virens)

By W. Leon Dawson

Description. — Ad it It male: Throat and breast above and on sides glossy
black ; sides of head and neck bright yellow ; a hne through eye, expanding
behind, olive-green; above bright olive-green, clearing to yellow in front and on
sides of crown; spotted or streaked with black on middle back, and sometimes,
minutely, on crown ; upper tail-coverts ashy or olivaceous-edged ; wings and
tail dusky with ashy edgings on external webs ; two broad white wing-bars ; outer
pair of tail-feathers almost entirely, and succeeding pairs decreasingly white on
inner webs; middle of breast, belly and crissum pale yellowish white; bill black;
feet dark brown. Adult female: Similar, but with less black streaking on back,
and with black of throat and sides extensively veiled by yellowish skirtings of
feathers. Immature: Like female, but with more yellow below, and with black
of throat still more thoroughly concealed by yellow tips. Length 4.50-5,40
(114.3-137.2) ; av. of ten Columbus specimens: wing 2.49 (63.2) ; tail 1.91 (48.5) ;
bill .38 (9.7).

Recognition Marks. — Medium size; bright yellow of cheeks and forehead
contrasting, or not, with black of throat.

Nest, of twigs, bark-strips, grass, moss and feathers, placed ten to fifty feet
high in coniferous trees. Eggs, 4, white with creamy or buffy tints, speckled and
spotted with lilac-gray and rufous-brown, usually gathered in loose wreath about
larger end. Av. size, .63 x .49 (16. x 12.5).

General Range. — Eastern North America to the Plains, north to Hudson
Bay Territory, breeding from Connecticut and northern Illinois northward, and
south along the Alleghenies to South Carolina. In winter south to Cuba and .
Panama. Accidental in Greenland and Europe.

If we are sometimes disposed to envy the ornithological pioneers, Wilson,
Audubon and the rest, because of their unique opportunities for observing birds
now rare or extinct, we may comfortably reflect upon the fact that that most
fascinating and distinctively American family, the Mniotiltidae, is yearly mar-
shalled before our eyes in a way that was denied the fathers. The chief reason
for this is one which we deplore otherwise, viz., the continued denudation of the
forests. It is probably safe to say that in Wilson's day, that is, during the opening
decade of the last century, eighty-five per cent of the area of our state was covered
with timber. In such a forest even of the great Warbler army, whole regiments
might pass year by year unnoticed, and many species be held rare which were
really abundant. But as early as 1885 the forest acreage was estimated at only
seventeen per cent of the whole. These are the latest statistics available, but
the percentage, without doubt, has steadily decreased since then. In this respect,
'■'■''^n. we are favored; for if tlie birds would forage at all, they must needs avail

946

43«

BLACK THROATED GREEN WAkl.i 1
(l)endroica virenst.
Life-si7e.

themselves of our restricted food-lots and swarm through our fenced orchards.
V\'e are unmasking hidden beauties, and compelling relunctant fays to show
themselves.

The Pilack-throated Green Warbler, as an indivi<lual, is little troubled over
our ingenious compulsion, for it is not at all unwilling to show itself, and has
never learned a wholesome fear of man's presence. It is one of the commonest
warblers both in spring and fall, and seems in no hurry to get on, but there is
no recent evidence that it ever fails to make the passage of Lake Eric. Confined
for the most part to the tops of trees, it not infrequently ventures down to
inspect you, hopping daintily from branch to branch, and leaning forward to peer
at you inquiringly as the distance decreases.

The song is an odd little affair of lisping, squeaky notes, but as innocent
as the upturned face of a questioning child. Its delicacy defies vocalization,
but Mr. burroughs has proposed a graphic representation which is quite unfor-
gettable, " V •"

Family groups of six or seven individuals may be seen early in the fall
hunting close together, but as the season advances the weakening bonds of
kinship are lost in the sense of clanship, and this in turn is blended with the
sense of racial consanguinity, which more or less affects all warblers. Rev.
W. F. Henninger reports a remarkable occurrence which took place near South
Webster, in Scioto County. He says, in substance: On September 28, 1899,
I ran into a company of Warblers which I would place conservatively at two
thousand individuals. It was like a regular army as it moved up a long, sloping
hillside, and with wonderful rapidity. The wind was blowing almost a gale
from the north, and the birds allowed themselves to be urged before it in the
direction of their ultimate retreat, like half-stubborn autumn leaves. Lisping,
chipping, whirling, driving, they hurried on and I after at full speed, panting,
and wishing devoutly for a better chance to identify the fleeing forms. Arrived
at the top of the hill the army suddenly halted and when I arrived breathless
I had time to note the arrangement by species, not rigid indeed, but sufficiently
striking to command attention. In the center were seen Hooded Warblers and a
sprinkling of Chestnut-sides. On either side of these in turn were Black-
throated Greens and Sycamores, about two hundred of each : while the wings
proper were held by Bay-breasts and Black-polls in enormous numbers. The
order, as I say, was not strictly maintained, but the specific grouping within the
general ranks was at least remarkable. As the birds deployed to feed the
specific lines were not quite obliterated.

947

The Killdeer

By Alexander Wilson

This restless and noisy bird is known to almost every inhabitant of the
United States, being a common and pretty constant resident. During the sever-
ity of winter, when snow covers the ground, it retreats to the seashore, where
it is found at all seasons ; but no sooner have the rivers broken up than its shrill
note is again heard, either roamnig about high in air, tracing the shore of the
river, or running amid the watery flats and meadows. As spring advances it
resorts to the newly plowed fields, or level plains of bare grass, interspersed
with shallow pools ; or in the vicinity of the sea, in dry bare sandy fields. In
some such situation it generally chooses to lay its eggs, about the beginning of
May. The nest is usually slight, a mere hollow, with such materials drawn in
around it as happen to be near. In one instance I found the nest of this bird
paved with fragments of clam and oyster shells, and very neatly surrounded
with a mound or border of the same, placed in a very close and curious manner.
Tn some cases there is no vestige whatever of a nest.

The eggs are usually four, of a bright rich cream or yellowish clay color,
thickly marked with blotches of black. They are large for the size of the bird,
measuring more than an inch and a half in length, and a full inch in width,
tapering to a narrow point at one end.

Nothing can exceed the alarm and anxiety of these birds during the nesting
season. Their cries of killdeer, killdeer, as they winnow the air overhead, dive,
and course around you, or run along the ground counterfeiting lameness, are
shrill and incessant. The moment they see a person approach, they fly or run
to attack him with their harassing clamor, continuing it over so wide an extent
of ground that they puzzle the pursuer as to the particular spot where the nest
or young are concealed. In this respect they very much resemble the Lapwing
of Europe.

During the evening and long after dusk, particularly on moonlight nights,
their cries are frequently heard, both in the spring and fall. From this circum-
stance, and from their flying about both after dusk and before dawn, it appears
probable that they see better at such times than most of their tribe. They are
known to feed much on worms, many of which rise to the surface of the ground
during the night.

The Killdeer is more abundant in the Southern states in winter than in
summer. Among the rice fields and even around the planters' yards, I observed
them very numerous during J""ebruary and March. Their flight is something
like that of the Tern, but more vigorous ; and they sometimes rise to a great
height in the air. They are fond of wading in pools of water, and frequently
bathe themselves during the summer. They usually stand erect on their legs,

948

and rim ur walk with tlu- budy in a .stitT horizontal position; ihc-y run witli great
swiftness, and are also strong and vigorous in the wings.

During the extrcinc droughts of summer, these birds resort to the gravelly
chamiel of brooks and siiallow streams, where they can wade about in search
of a(|uatic insects. At the close ot sununer they generally descend to the sea-
shore in small flocks, seldom more than ten or twelve being seen together. They
are then more serene and silent, as well as difllcult to approach-
In summer the Killdeer is found in Xorth America as far north as New-
foundland and Manitoba. In winter it migrates southward, wintering from the
lower Mississippi X'alley and Virginia to Central and South America.

The Killdeer has become very rare in New England, so that in many states
Wilson's opening sentence is no longer true.

Mountain Quail {Oreorty.v /^icta plcta)

Range. — Pacific coast from southwestern Washington south to Monterey
County, California.

All our American quail are heaulitul, but this superb denizen of the moun-
tain sides bears away the palm. Its elegant form, rich coloration, its long, nod-
ding black plumes, its brown gorget, and its alert carriage lend the bird an air
of rare distinction. Our plumed knight of the mountains loves not the low-
country with its dry watercourses, its heat and dust, but chooses for his perma-
nent home the mountain valleys and hillsides with their pure air and numerous
streams. This quail, with its two varieties, is strictly limited to the west coast
where it ranges from Lower California into Washington. Formerly it was
abundant over most of its range, and it is yet numerous in many localities. In
Oregon it used to be trapped in great numbers, and as long ago as 1880 was
commonly exposed in the city markets in crates containing twenty or more.
Even the market men decried the practice, but nevertheless cheerfully sold the
birds at three dollars per dozen. A sad sight it was to see these beautiful crea-
tures captive and exposed for sale. My own experience with the mountain quail
dates back many years. All the covies I saw in California and Oregon were
comparatively small, always less than ten, and the bird appears rarely, if ever,
to associate in great gatherings composed of several or more independent covies.
as does the valley and Gambel's quail. \\'hen in their ordinary mountain haunts,
plumed quail are tame enough, altogether too tame for their own safety, but I
am told that where much pursued by sportsmen with or without dogs, they
rapidlv lose their unsophisticated ways and learn to take good care of themselves-

949

The Habits of the King Rail (Raiius ciegans)

By Gerard Alan Abbott

The family Rallidae includes nearly two hundred species and sub-species
of birds. They are distributed over the greater portion of each continent,
the coots, gallinules and rails being the American representatives of this
interesting family.

The rails, whose feet and legs are remarkably developed for the purpose,
traverse the almost impenetrable swamps and quagmires with unequaled agility,
taking wing only as a last resort. Rails are less aquatic that coots or galinules,
and though not gregarious are seldom found breeding in isolated pairs. Fre-
quently several varieties of rails occupy their respective nests within a few yards
of each other, and again all three species will deposit their eggs in a single nest,
which is usually that of a King Rail, the largest of the genera.

The Marsh-hen, King, or Red-breasted Rail, is brown in color of varying
shades, and the feathers are streaked or mottled with black. The sexes are
indistinguishable and the young are covered with down which is jet black. The
body is very slim and compact, enabling its owner to pass through tangled vegeta-
tion without hindrance.

The restricted breeding range of the King Rail includes the eastern portion
of the United States, westward to the states- bounded on the east by the Mississippi
River. In Wisconsin, southern Canada and Maine this Rail is known only as a
casual visitor. The states bordering on the Great Lakes — Illinois, Indiana, Ohio,
Michigan and New York — probaljly contain the most popular resorts of the King
Rail, where it nests abundantly in suitable localities. South of the Ohio River
the King Rail occurs in limited numbers and is undoubtedly a permanent resident
wherever found. On the sea-coast the King Rail is replaced by a salt water
variety known as the clapper rail. The two species are closely allied, but the
latter may be identified by its smaller size and paler colors.

I have devoted considerable time to the study of the King Rail — both during
its migrations and in its domestic life — and I consider it one of the m.ost bold,
shrewd and fearless of water fowls. No one should be surprised at the antics
of a rail. A neighbor discovered one in her front room after leaving the door ajar
one morning. King Rails have been observed about the barnyard in company
with the poultry. On several moonlight nights, between the hours of eight and
ten, during the months of May and June, I have heard and seen this droll looking
bird strolling about the streets of Chicago, perhaps one-half mile distant from
the nearest marsh. This may be called one of its nocturnal escapades, and as it
wanders from yard to yard its curiosity increases. It ventures upon the side-
walk and poses under the light of a street lamp and suddenly becomes hilarious,
"clucking," "cackling" and "creeking," its hoarse voice breaking the silence of
the calm spring atmosphere, and then it vanishes as if by magic.

Nest building begins in April and often requires a week for completion.

950

l-resli f^gs may be IoiiikI from the tir>t day (jf April to July, the time var\ing
according to locality and season. On or about the eighteenth of May is the best
period to study the nesting habits of this rail in northern Illinois and Indiana.
Usually a complete set of eggs, ranging from eight to fourteen in number, has
been laid and the parents have begun the duties of incubation, which cover a
period of three weeks.

Clumps of tlead rushes, fallen reeds or tussocks of marsh grass are favorite
nesting places, and so attached do the birds become to some selected corner of the
marsh that the same pair return annually to their chosen spot. The nest proper
is generally built of those materials which surround and conceal the site, and is
so constructed, with an opening on the side sufficient in size to admit the owner,
that it is almost impossible to see from al)ove the silting bird or her eggs without
first parting the vegetation. In several instances I have been obliged to lift the
incubating bird from her nest that I might obtain a view of her treasures.

The eggs exhibit considerable diversity in size, shape and color. Typical
eggs resemble those of the domestic fowl in shape. The background of the egg
may be bluish white, creamy bufT or light brown. The markings consist of specks,
spots, blotches and scrawls of numerous shades of red. brown and lilac. In size
the eggs range from one and fifty-hundredths inches to one and ninety-hundredths
inches long by one and twelve-hundredths inches to one and twenty-eight-
humlrcdths inches wide.

95\

Clcipper Rail (Rallus crepitans crepitans)

Range. — Breeds from Connecticut to North Carolina; winters mainly south
of New Jersey.

The distribution of the clapper rail complements that of the king rail, for
the clapper inhabits the salt-water marshes as its relative does he fresh-water
meadows. Though occasional as far north as Massachusetts, the clapper rail
does not begin to be numerous until Long Island is reached. Farther south it
inhabits the salt marshes in great numbers. It used to nest abundantly on Cobb's
Island and other sandy islands along the Atlantic coast which are fringed on
the landward side by dense beds of rushes. When on Cobb's Island, I once
offered a small boy a quarter apiece for some of the young clappers, as I had
never seen them. In about an hour he returned and to my astonishment turned
out of his cap more than a dozen of the quaint, black, fluffy youngsters, some of
which apparently had just chipped the shell. It appeared that an uncommonly
high tide had driven the birds from their usual haunts, and the nestlings were
to be had by the dozen by wading through the reeds and picking them off the
piles of floating debris. I had the pleasure of returning most of them to their
native haunts, and the rapidity with which they lost themselves among the reeds
showed that they needed no parental lectures on the art of concealment.

A closely allied species, the California clapper rail, represents the eastern
bird on the Pacific coast of Oregon and California. As the name implies, clapper
rails are noisy birds, and their harsh notes are often heard coming from the
thick reeds when the callers are invisible. They lay from seven to a dozen eggs
and are so prolific that with a decent regard for seasons and bag limits, they
should hold their own to the end of time.

Rusty Blackbird {Scolecopkagns caroUnus)

By Lynds Jones

Synonyms. — Rusty Crackle; Thrush Blackbird.

Description. — Adult male in breeding plumage: Uniform glossy black, with
bluish green reflections ; iris pale straw. At other seasons the plumage bears
rufous or "rusty" tips above, especially anteriorly, and rufescent or buffy tips
below, in varying proportions ; a light line also over the eye. The full nuptial
dress is seldom seen in Ohio, but may be found by narrowly observing the latest
migrants in spring. Adult female in breeding plumage: Blackish slate, lustrous
above, duller below. At other seasons the general cast of plumage is lighter,
and the overlay of rusty or buffy is similar to that of the male. Adult male,

952

length 9.00-9.60 (228.6-243.8) ; wing 449 (114.) ; tail 3.68 (93.5) ; bill .76 (19.3).

I'cnialc smaller.

Rcco^'iiiiion Marks. — Robin size; plumage usually rusty-tinged during mi-
grations in Ohio. If in full plumage they are the only pure black birils of the
size. In the common tlocks of "blackbirds" in early spring, the high whistling
notes belong to the Rusties.

Nesting.— ^ Does not breed in Ohio. Nest, of slicks and coarse grasses held
together with mud, lined with hue grasses and rootlets, placed in bushes or high
in coniferous trees. E(j(js, 4-7, grayish or pale green, speckled and mottled
with purples or reddish browns, and without streaks or lines. A v. size, 1.00 .x .76
(25.4x19.3).

General Range- — Eastern and northern North .America, west to Alaska and
the Plains. l^)rceds frcim northern United States northward. Winters from
Kentucky and Tennessee southward.

The great roving hordes of "Blackbirds" in early spring are likely to con-
tain at least a sprinkling of "Rusties," but usually they are not so eager to press
on as are the impulsive Redwings, and so they fall out of the ranks by dozens
and scores. Succeeding platoons composed of these birds alone keep arriving
from the south during the last weeks in March and the first in April, while
many do not depart for their summer home in the far north till the first or even
second week in May.

Rusty Blackbirds are to be found chielly in damp woods and along streams.
While with us they are rather retiring, partly because they are pilgrims — and
it behooves all such to be modest — and partly because they undergo the spring
moult en route. The last trace of rusty edging must be removed from the
feathers before the breeding ground is reached, though such as have attained the
full dignity of dress suits may declare their hearts to the ladies before they
quit Ohio.

In some tiny glade in the heart of the budding forest it is that one comes
upon a company of these sojourners, feeding perhaps upon the ground. They
walk about with easy grace or shift by little flights, males and females flocking
together, and all engaged in a subdued but voluble chatter. An instant hush
follows the signal of alarm and the flock rises silently to the neighboring tree-
tops or passes to a distant spot, where their conversation is gradually resumed.
As the alarm decreases the birds come gradually dropping down, one by one,
until confidence is completely restored again.

The notes of the Rusty Blackbird consist of a bubbling medley of I's and
r's through which clear, high-pitched whistles or squeaks are interspersed at
will. Gonuliillier conveys some idea of the liquid quality of the former, and
expresses also in part the effort which is required to produce them. The eft'ect
of a full chorus is really quite pleasing. If not "music" it is at least among the

less disagreeable of noises.

953

Winter Birds*

To know birds, to love birds, to know how to have birds love you is a great
trio of educational achievements.

Scholarship is knowing about nature and human nature, education is know-
ing nature and human nature.

Scholarship is crystallized knowledge, education is knowledge in action.

The easiest and most beautiful way to know nature in action is through birds.
The easiest way to know birds most completely is to know them in winter.

In spring, summer and autumn birds have no need of you and they care little
for you except as a by-product of experience.

All nature is catering to the birds and they crave bird comradeship from
early spring to late autumn.

But in winter nature often plays them false. Then they are liable to be
absolutely dependent upon human nature.

Anybody can love birds in their song days and nesting time. Then the
whole bird world is on dress parade, but in winter all is changed. The birds
in winter are like a bride in kitchen attire, while in summer they have a party
dress and have party manners.

Frank M. Chapman is one of the birds' best friends, or rather he helps all
people, children especially, to befriend birds.

The coldest, wildest days in winter are the coziest days in the home. When
it is possible or undesirable to brave the rigors of a northern winter, we love home
and indoor life most, but those are the days that spell terror for birds.

If the winter birds could talk a human language they would give Frank M.
Chapman a nobler and more glorious reception than America will give Foch
when he comes to us, for he has done more to make the winter world safe
for birds in civilized communities than Foch has done toward making the world
safe for democracy.

In our "Winter Birds'' Mr. Chapman has done more for us and for the birds
in proportion to the price of the book than he has done elsewhere. I lis chapters
are on home birds, field birds and forest birds, and in vivid and brilliant descrip-
tion and through illustration he makes it delightful to think about winter birds, to
know them, to serve them, to have them appreciate the human side of us.

*"Our Winter Birds: How to Know and How to Attract Them." By Frank AI.
Chapman.

954

Index to \ Olunics I, II, III, I\, \'

Star (*) Indicates Color Plate

About Tarrots. IV O'JS

About a Sparrow. IV C4:i

Address to the Woodlark. IV 59T

A Few of tlic Rird Family. V 78.") •

A Little Song. V 'J07 •

April Rain. Ill 44.T

At Morn and at Eve. II ~G7

Audubon, John James. Ill 40G

Audubon's Resting Place. II 34 4

Autumn Beauties. Ill 50.'j

Autumn Day. An. II .'!44

*Avocet, The. Ill •. 410

Baby Birds. \' 935 •

Back Up the Game Law. 1 172

Baldpate. Ill 3s9

Behold the Birds ! II 305

Before and After Summer. II 20.]

Bird. The. 1 175

Birds. II 2S'!

Birds. Ill 499

Birds and Their Young. IV (■)S9

Birds and Seasons in My Garden. III... 411

Bird and the Farmer. II 225

Birds and the Citizen. Ill 502

Birds and Their Songs. I G2

Birds as Preservers of Vegetation. V... 903 »

Bird Calendar by the Poets. IV G55

Bird Citizens in" Winter. II 204

Birds Christmas. V 781 •

Birds Common to Field and Orchard.

Ill 520

Bird Day. II 272

Birds Destroy Cotton-Boll Weevil. 11... 274

Bird Family, A Few of. 1 95

Bird Houses and Mow to Build Them.

IV 740

Birds in Cemeteries. 1 113

Birds in Orchard. 1 65

Birds in Winter. IV 605

Birds in Winter Fields. 1 9

Birds in Southern Hoosier Hills. II.... 21.=j

Birds in the Lost River Valley. II 251

Bird Law, New. 1 59

Birds. More. Ill 480

Birds' Names. IV 620

Bird Neighbors. II 278

Birds' Nests. 1 123

Bird Notes. V 926 *

Birds of a Smoky City. II 218

I'.irds of Killingworth. II 215

l'>irds t)f Town and Country. Ill .106

Birds of the Prairie. 1 183

Birds That Hunt. II 289

I'.ird That Sing in May. 1 77

Birds Sing. 1 154

I'.irds. Two Little. Ill 465

* Bittern, The Least. II 282

♦Blackbird, The Red Winged. II 202

The Rusty. V 953 •

* The Yellow Headed. V 938.

♦Bluebird. 1 48-160

The. Ill 545

The. V 799 '

* The Mountain. IV 579

Blue Jay, Song of. Ill 544

♦Bobolink. 1 22

*Bob-White. 1 141

II 352

Eulogy. II 209

Brant. The Black. II 353

* The Black. IV 756

BufHehead. Tiio. Ill 469

* The. IV 592

^^Bunting, The Indigo. Ill 550

The Lazuli. Ill 387

* The Painted. HI 387

* The Snow. II 360

P.urroughs, John. 1 129

Bush-Tit, The. II 344

* The. V 818 •

Buzzard. The Turkey. II 363

Canary Bird. The Biography of a. II.. 376

*Canvas Back. Ill 477-562

♦Cardinal. 1 176

The. Ill 453

♦Cassowary. V 792 •

♦Catbird, The. II 253

Census, Bird. II 239

♦Chat, Yellow-Breasted. 1 144

♦Chickadee. 1 20-47

The. II 200

The. HI 388

The. V 910 •

Chicken. The Prairie. Ill 423

♦Cockatoo. The Rose-Breasted. IV 681

Comedy and Tragedy in Bird Life. III.. 444

955

Communion. V 871'

Coot, The. Ill 505

The American. IV COT

Courtin Tarn, In De Woodlan. V 899»

*Cormorant, Brandts'. IV 718

* The, Double-Crested. V : . . 788 '

*Cowbird, The. Ill 450

*Crane, The Sandhill. Ill 495

The Whooping. IV 584

*Creeper, Brown. 1 110-119

^Crossbill. 1 44

* The White-Winged. Ill 510

*Crow, The. II 266

The Wise. II 345

Cuckoo, A Study of. IV 617

Cuckoo, The Black-Billed. V 865 v

* The Yellow-Billed. II 326

*Curassows, The Crested. IV 642

*Curlew, The Eskimo. Ill 442

The Hudson. Ill 551

* The Long-Billed. Ill 546

*Dipper, The American. V 842 '

Do Birds Have Sense. 1 24

Dove Not a Peace Bird. V 932 ;

*Dove, The Mourning. II 338

*Dovekie, The. V 906*

Dowitcher, The Crested. IV 634

Duck, The Black. Ill 483

The Fulvous Tree. IV 619

* The Fulvous Tree. V 934 •

The Great Scaup. V 857 '

The Harlequin. Ill 519

* The Harlequin. IV 664

The Labrador. V 793 ^

* The Lesser Scaup. IV 729

The Ring-Necked. V 856 •

The Ruddy. IV 766

* The Wood. II 236

The Wood. V 900 •

Each in Its Own Way. IV 645

*Eagle, The Bald. II 208

* The Golden. V 834^

Early Autumn Days. IV 708

Early Spring. II 275

Echo of the Heart. V 791 '

Economic Value of Birds. 1 97

Eggs of Birds. IV 667

Egret, White Protecting. II 210

Eider, The King. V 790 l

The Pacific. V 856 ♦

The Spectacled. V 847 x

The Sleller's. V 843 .

English Wild Birds for British Colum-
bia. II 299

Far-Away Days. IV 753

Feathered Folks Are Worth Knowing.

Ill 449

Feather, Cost of. V 808 •

Feeding Winter Birds. II 223

Feeding Winter Birds. HI 397

Feeding Wild Birds. IV 609

Few Interesting Facts About Bird Mi-
gration. Ill 536

Fifty Kinds of Birds Winter in New

York. IV 582

Finch, The House. Ill 399

* The House. V 784-*

The Purple. II 375

* The Purple. Ill 394

*Flicker, The. 1 168

Red-Shafted. Ill 557

*Flycatcher, The Ash-Throated. III.... 526
The Black. V 789 »

* The Olive-Sided. V 876.

* The Scissor-Tailed. Ill 492

* The Traill. V 726

Food Habits of Birds. IV 725-750

Friends of Our Forest. V 825 »

*Gadwall, The. V 838*

* The Nest. V 858 •

^i^Gallinule, The Florida. IV 625-748

* The Purple. II 223

Getting Ready to Welcome the Birds.

Ill 417

Geographical Distribution of Birds. IV. 598

Glow-Worm and Mockingbird. Ill 424

Gnatcatchers. The. Ill 421

Go to the Birds, Thou Sluggard. III. . . 513

Godwit, The Hudsonian. V 854*

The Marbled. IV 736

* The Marbled. V 940 •

*Golden-Eye, The. 1 126

The Barrow's. V 877 i

*Goldfinch, The. I 6

The. V 844^

The Arkansas. Ill 549

* The Nest. V 820 ^'

Goose, The Blue. V 785 »

The Canada. II 369

* The Canada. Ill 490

The Snow. V 877%

The White-Fronted. IT 1 426

* The White-Fronted. IV 580

^Goshawk, The American. HI 524

956

•Crackle, The Bronzed. I J4

* The Great-Tailed. V y02 -

•Grebe. The Horned. Ill 4.'iS

* The Picd-Bilied. IV 594

Grosbeak. The Black-Headc.l. 1 37

* The Black-I leaded. Ill .. 4:!7
The Blue. IV 651

* The Pine. II 3.14

* The Rose-Breasted. 1 133

The Rose-Breasted. V 775 •

Grosbeaks, The. Ill 486

*Grousc, The Canada. V 916 •

* The Dusky. II 346

The Franklin. V 883 /

* The Prairie Sharp-Tailed. Ill 430

The Spruce. V 883 /

* The RufTcd. 1 58

Gull. The Franklin. Ill 549

The Herring. IV 715

* The Ring-Billed. II 3.54

The Sea. V 778 .

Haunts of Coot and Heron. Ill 470

*Ha\vk, The American Sparrow. IV.... 612

* The Broad-Winged. V 880'

The Cooker's. 1 57

* The Marsh. 1 75

The Marsh. V 924 •

* The Red-Shouldered. 1 146

* The Red-Tailed. 1 120

The Red-Tailed. IV 758

* The Sharp-Shinned. Ill 552

The Sparrow. II 353

* The Western Red-Tailed. IV 746

Helping the Robin to Nest. IV 665

Hen. The Heath. IV 736

The Prairie. V 941*

The Sage. V 882 «

Heron, The Black-Crowned Night. III. 517

* The Great Blue. II 302

The Great Blue. V 920,

Hollyhocks, The. IV 633

How Birds Find Their Way Home. II. 261

How Birds Protect Trees. II 216

How Library May Stimulate Local

Bird Study. 1 134

How Our Birds Spend the Winter. III. 541

How the Bluebirds Came Back. Ill 428

How the Woodpecker Knows. II 297

How to Attract Birds. II 328

How to Go A-Birding. II 257

How to Study Birds. 1 155

•HumminKbird, The Black-Shinned. IV. 742

* The Broad-Tailed. V 890 '

* The kivoli. V 848'

* The Ruby-Throated. II 268

The Rufous. 1 164

Hummingbirds, The. I\'.. .. 030

* I I)is, The White-Faced Glossy. IV 616

In Defense of Our heathcred Friends.

II 354

I Used to Kill Birds. II 211

*Jay, The Blue. 1 3S-41-140

The Blue. HI 481

The Blue-Fronted. V 882^

* The Canada. IV 033

The California. II 271

Jays, Pacific Coast. HI 511

*Junco, The Slate-Colored. 1 14

The Slate-Colored. V 897 •

Killdeer, The. II 301

The. V 901-948 .

♦Kingbird, The. II 276

The Arkansas. II 341

* The Arkansas. Ill 523

♦Kingfisher, The Belted. II 195

Kinglet, The Golden-Crowned. \' S38»

* The Ruby-Crowned. II 198

The Ruby-Crowned. V 836-914 •

♦Kite. The Everglade. V 802*

* The Swallow-Tailed. IV 632

Knot, The. V SSI .

* The, or Robin Snipe. V 904 •

♦Lark, The Horned. 1 31

♦Longspar, The Lapland. Ill 438

Looking Toward the Light. IV 743

♦Loon, The. II 248

♦Lory, The Blue Mountain. V 903 *

Lunch for Winter Birds. IV 765

♦Lyre Bird, The. V 936 •

Magpie, The. II 335

* The. IV 654

♦Mallard, The. II 322

Martin, The Purple. II 197-305

* The Purple. HI 400

Martyrs of the Woods. IV 661

Maytime. IV 646

♦Meadowlark, The. 1 102-103

The. V 779 •

Merganser, The American. V 859 "

* The Hooded. Ill 570

The Red-Breasted. V 860 .

957

Migrating Birds. II 337

Migration of Birds. IV 640

*Mockingbird. 1 106-107

Mockingbird, The. IV 585

*Mot Mot, The Mexican. Ill 426

*Murre, The Brunnich. IV 694

*Murrelet, The Marbled. IV 634

My Birds. 1 127

Nests, Where to Look. V 803 1

Abandoned. V 924,

*Nighthawk. 1 174

Our. V 833-

Nighthawk and Its Ways. Ill 568

^Nightingale, The. II 364

Nightingale and Glow-worm. 1 147

Night Flying Birds. V 783 .

*Nutcracker, The Clarke's. V 812".

*Nuthatch, The White-Breasted. II 298

The White-Breasted. V 867 i

Old Head Hunter. V 912 »

Oriole, The Audubon. V 852i

* The Baltimore. 1 180

The Bullock's. 1 96

* The Golden. II 216

* The Orchard. II..... 234

Ornithology, Romance of. 1 165

Osprey, The. II 239

* The. Ill -..484

Our Bird Neighbors. 1 33

Our Grosbeaks and Their Value to

Agriculture. Ill 454

*Oven Bird, The. Ill 498

*Owl, The American Barn. IV 622

The Barn. 1 145-173

* The Burrowing. IV 744

* The Great Gray. HI 410

* The Great Horned. II 230

* The Hawk. IV 706

* The Screech. 1 82

* The Snowy. II 207

*Parrot, The Double Yellow Headed.

IV 674

*The Owl. IV 626

*Peacock, The. II 296

♦Petrel, The Wilson's. II 342

♦Pewee, The Wood. 1 154

The Wood. V 867.

*Phalarope, The Northern. V 886 i

* The Wilson. IV 596

* The Wilson Nest. V 922 >

^Pheasant, The Golden. II 290

* The Impeyan. V 771 ^

* The Ring-Necked. II 312

*Phoebe, The. II 260

Pictures of Yesterday. IV 675

Pigeon, The Band-Tailed. V 875 ►

* The Passenger. II 270

The Passenger. IV 721

*Pintail, The. IV 644

Plea of the English Sparrow. II 201

*Plover, The Belted-Piping. HI 482

The Black-Bellied. V 884 -•

The Golden. V 791 '

* The Snowy. IV 590

* The Upland. II 314

Protect Our Migratory Birds. Ill 540

Protection of Birds a Farm Asset. IV.. 646

♦Ptarmigan, The White-Tailed. V 776*

* The Willow. Ill 398

*Pufifin, The Tufted. HI 436

Quail, The California. HI 540

* The Gambel's. HI 518

The Merns. V 860 ♦

The Mountain. V 949 '

The Scaled. V 939 »

The Valley. V 935 »

Rail, The Clapper. V 952 •

* The King. HI 466

* The King Nest. V 950 »

* The Yellow. IV 658

Red-Bird, The. 1 189

Redhead, The. V 851.

*Redstart, The. II 228

Return of the Birds. V 782 ^

Return of the Birds. V 821*

Road-Runner, The. II 341

* The. V 786 »

♦Robin, The. 1 42-87

The. IV 591

Robin, To the. IV 621

Robin, To the. V 824 ^

Robin, Our Cornrade. V 794^

Robin's Counat% 807 «

Robin's Song, The. IV 705

Sanderling. V 928 •

Sandpiper, The. 1 133

The Pectoral. V 925 i

The Spotted. HI 509

The Spotted. V 850 •

♦Sapsucker, The Yellow-Bellied. II.... 212
Save the Birds. IV 757

958

*Scoter. The Surf. \ ..92S-944 .

The Whitc-WinKL.l. \' 92j •

Shall America's Songsters Be Slaught-
ered' II 324

Shall \Vc Feed the Hirds?. Ill .'.4s

Shall \Vc Kill Ilim? Ill S.'.s

Shall \Vc Save the Quail from I'.xtermi-

nation? Ill 440

•Shoveller. The. V 846?

♦Shrike. The Loggerhead. IV RIO

* The .Northern. Ill :tlto

Siskin. The Pine. IV 710

Skylark. Our. V 823'

* The. II 244

To A. 11 232

♦Snipe, The Wilson. IV 602

Some Beneficial Birds and Their Pro-
tection. Ill 401

Some Odd Bits of Bird Life. 1 49

Some Wonders of Bird Migration. II.. 364

Song of the Poplar. Ill 543

Songsters of the Skokie. II 2S4

Sora. The. II 300

Sparrow. V 801 •

Sparrow, The English .Xs a Pest. III.. 494

Sparrow, The. IV 627

The Ciiipping. I\' 635

* The Chipping. II 2S3-3G6

The English. 1 101-173

Sparrow, The English. V 861 •

The English. Ill 443

* The Field. IV 628

* The Fox. 1 56

* The Harris. V 816 »

The House. Ill 431

The Lark. 1 153

* The Urk. V 774.

* Tlie Leconte's. IV 7:58

* The Savanna. Ill 464

* The Song. 1 178

The Song. V 840 1

* The Vesper. 1 118

The White Crowned. 1 103

* The White Throated. II 281-336

Sparrows and Sparrows. 1 148

Spirit of Nature Study. IV 761

♦Spoonbill. The Roseate. V 874'

Spring. II 281

Spring Birds on the Kankakee. 1 70

♦Starling. The. II 374

Story of the Wren. IV^ 648

Study of Birds, The. IV 713

Summer Haunts of Birds. Ill 533

•Sun Bird. The Philippine. V «22 •

•Swallow. The Barn. 1 17

The ClifT. Ill 483

♦ The Tree. Ill 476-566

The N'iolet Green. V ft.'>4 •

Swallow, In Praise of. V 905 •

Swan. The Musical. IV 731

*Swif t. The Chinuiey. 1 80

•Tanager, The Scarlet. 1 16

Taiiager Pe()i)le, The. Ill 572

Teal. The I'duc-Winged. V 893 •

♦Tern. The Black. I . . .96-148

♦ The Caspian. IV 652

♦ The Common. II 280

Thaw. The. Ill 530

They Didn't Think. Ill 469

Things Divine, The. IV 636

Thoughts for the Discouraged Farmer.

IV 722

♦Thrasher, The Brown. 1 8

♦ The California. V 878 |

Thrush, The. II 161

The. II 291

♦ The r.ray-Cheeked. Ill 468

♦ The Hermit. II 310

The Hermit. V S52 .

The Russet-Backed. V 7^0-

The Varied. II 256

♦ The Varied. \' 866 «

♦ The Wood. 1 170

The Wood. V 909 •

Thrush, The Brown Singers. V 918 »

Titmouse, The. Ill 571

♦ The European Crested. IV 716

♦ The Tufted. V 891-930*

To a Sea-Bird. IV 653

To a Waterfowl. II 373

♦Toucan, The Yellow Throated. V 912 ♦

♦Towhee, The. 1 131

♦ The .\rctic. V 893 •

♦ The California. V 780 •

The California Brown. \' 781 »

♦ The White-Eyed. IV 760

Tragedy in Birdland. 1 121

Trail of Pokagon. II 356

♦Turkey. The Wild. 1 162

Utility of Birds in Nature. II 89

Valentine, My. Ill '. 389

♦ Veery. The. 1 84

The. V 872 •

959

*Vireo, The Red-Eyed. 1 88

* The Warbling. Ill 560

The White-Eyed. V 929-943'

The Yellow-Throated. 1 137

Warbler, The Audubons. II 199

* The Bay Breasted. II 340

* The Black and White. 1 190

The Blackburnian. IV 723

* The Black-Poll. Ill 405

* The Black-Throated Blue. Ill 500

The Black-Throated Green. IV.... 717

* The Black-Throated Green. V.... 946 «

* The Blue-Winged. 1 94

* The Canadian. 1 136

The Cape May. IV 711

* The Chestnut-Sided. IV 586

The Connecticut. IV 747

The Golden-Winged. IV 707

* The Hooded. IV 720

* The Kentucky. IV 686

* The Magnolia. Ill 556

* The Myrtle. 1 46

The Nashville. IV 641

The Northern Parula. IV 693

* The Orange-Crowned. Ill 478

* The Palm. Ill 514

* The Parula. Ill 536

The Pine. IV 665

* The Prairie. IV 688

* The Prothonotary. Ill 420

* The Swainson's. V 844 '

* The Tennessee. IV 673-754

* The Townsend's. Ill 533

The Worm-Eating. IV 675

* The Worm-Eating. V 870 »

* The Yellow. 1 104

The Yellow. II 214

Warblers, The. 1 85

Warblers, The. IV 659

*Water-Thrust, The Louisiana. Ill 422

The Northern. IV 746

*Waxing, The Cedar. Ill 427-460

* The Bohemian. IV 676

We Thank Thee. 1 40

What Bird Life Means to Us. Ill 516

*Wheatear, The. IV 712

When Sir Oriole Comes. II 321

Where the Black Tern Builds. II 347

Whip-Poor-Will, The. II 240

*Whip-Poor-Will Time. II 243

Widgeon, The European. V 841 »

*Willett, The Western. IV 660

Winter Birds. IV 739

Winter Birds. V 772 ►

Wisconsin Bird Convention. II 292

Woodcock, The. IV 714

Woodpecker, The California. 1 188 >—

The California. V 813 «

* The Downy. 1 112

* The Green. V 8144

* The Hairy. II 370

* The Pileated. IV 662

* The Red-Headed. 1 66

Woodpecker. V 896 \

*Wren, The Bewick's. V 806 •

* The House. 1 78

The House. V 884-894 I

* The Long-Billed Marsh. II 238

* The Short-Billed Marsh. Ill 452

* The Winter. II 372

Wren Family, The. II 279

Wren, Little Brown. V 790^

Wren, To a Wood's. V 855 •

Yellowhead, The. IV 608

*Yellow-Legs, The. Ill 538

* The Greater. IV 696

Yellow-Throat, The Maryland. 1 137

* The Maryland. II 362

The Maryland. V 787-869 \

Your Bird Friends. IV 678

960

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VJ1 (-' v^ CJN

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QL681

.B5T
1913
V.5

Birds and natiire.